— you mean to say, rafe cameron; the arrogant, conniving, borderline psychotic, kook prince that has everyone on the island, especially pogues, residing in fear of his next plot, scheme or even murder— has a soft spot?
and it’s a girl? a chatty, soft, smiley girl— who goes out of her way to please people, who would go to the ends of the earth for the people she loves, the one who skips around town, dressed in sweet skirts and summer dresses?
you can put your fucking money on it.
he’d stop at nothing to keep her happy, to keep that room-lighting smile on her face. — even if that meant cancelling plans the second tears fell from her glassy eyes.
rafe spun on his feet the second he heard your feet padding down the stairs, his focus on topper’s phone call dwindling by the second. and when his eyes met your tearful, bloodshot ones, he was already wracking his brains for an excuse. “shit, somethin’s come up top’ — i’ll text you later” he spoke, with little to no intention of texting topper later.
tossing his phone aside, he rushed towards you, hands snaking over your shoulders as you sobbed into his chest, pulling you into a deep hug. allowing you to cry for a moment, rafe’s brows knit together as he thought of anything and everything that could’ve possibly happened in the last fifteen minutes, when he’d last been upstairs with you.
“wha’s goin’ on doll?” he mumbled, pulling away slightly to lift your chin gently, stroking your skin as he held your jaw in his palm.
struggling to catch your breath, you frantically wiped at the flowing tears. “i— i don’t— don’t know rafe” you babbled, waving your hands vigorously in frustration.
“m’kay, alright— c’mere, hey— shh, s’okay” he cooed, leading you towards the lounge to lay you on the couch, immediately wrapping you in bundles of blankets.
“stay here alright? m’gonna get changed, n’d you can tell me about it yeah?” he hummed, stroking the tear soaked strands of hair out of your face before pressing a kiss to your forehead.
i love s1!rafe, fratboy!rafe — because he has the most predictable moves and yet they work.
arriving to his house, you’re sure to be met with “where’s my hug, huh? you shy now?” but he’s so hot you can’t help but fall into his embrace of course, even going the extra mile to push your tits against his chest because you know that’s what he really wanted.
he’s got nothing interesting planned for the two of you, hitting you with the “shit, you wanna watch a movie or…?” and yes! you’d love to watch a movie! except you’re not really watching, you’re waiting for his inevitable “why you sittin’ so far away? i don’t bite.” but he’s a gentleman so he holds back the ‘unless you want me to, aha’ that he had stored up.
once he’s got you pressed to his side, the games begin. “damn uh, the material of this skirt it’s like… thick as hell. what is— is that not uncomfortable? you can totally take it off if you want.”
he’ll take your hand in his own, tell you how small it is compared to his, makes you laugh. it works like a charm, and you combat this by telling him how big his arms are and just how weak you are in comparison. telling him you bet he could lift anything.
and suddenly you start to notice how the AC is switched off, his body feeling warmer and warmer against your own. “shit, it’s fuckin’ boiling. don’t mind if i take my shirt off right?” of course you don’t mind.
it seems like no time has passed before he’s got you on his lap, wincing as he lifts his hips in quick successions to pound his cock inside your needy hole. “yeah i know what you fuckin’ want. i know what you fuckin’ want you wanna cum on it don’t you? don’t you?” he’s spitting out through grit teeth and you’re a mess of moans, but no matter how quiet he’s talking you through it you can always hear him — because the TV’s gone quiet, netflix taking the time to ask if you’re still watching.
WANTED: JOHN BOOKER ROUTLEDGE - SUSPECTED MURDER - $1000 REWARD - DANGEROUS! IF SPOTTED DO NOT APPROACH!
pairing: outlaw!johnb + sheltered!reader ⋆₊⊹♡
synopsis: your wishes come true when a beautiful boy is found sleeping peacefully in your barn. much to his surprise, you don’t care about who he is or what he has or hasn’t done — you just want to ensure he stays forever.
cw: mentions of prayer, religion and god (for plot purpose) reader has two parents, western!au, innocence kink, slight manipulation, mentions of crime, breeding kink, smut ♡
“Please deliver me a man, save me from this loneliness. Make him kind, and strong, and handsome. I vow to make him the happiest man alive.”
Your forehead rests against your clasped hands where you kneel beside your bed, speaking out loud as there was no one else to speak to. Your parents had gone on a trip for two weeks, leaving you in charge of the farmhouse all by your lonesome.
Isolated didn’t feel like the correct term. You were grateful, happy to live off the fat of your father’s land in the middle of nowhere, but sometimes you wished you had someone to share it with. Someone your own age who was there to see you. You had become the perfect host, thrilled when your parents would bring home guests once in a blue moon. You’d tie ribbons in your hair and pick the perfect dress and set the table like your mother taught you. You often imagined setting the table for a family of your own.
Your own farm house. The thought sent you off to sleep each night, walking through the home in your mind as if it were really real, feeling the creaking of the painted wooden porch beneath your feet as you enter, the distant cooing of your baby being comforted by your husband in the next room. White shabby-chic panels across the walls with oak furniture and knitted throw pillows and lots and lots of warm light. The kitchen table would have the perfect lace floral embroidered table cloth draped across it which you’d serve the heartiest dinners on each night. The babies room would be painted mint green, no— maybe pastel yellow, with handmade toys and a music box that played your song and oh, the master bedroom… where you and your husband rest your head would be flooded with natural light. A haven. All yours.
The details to the decoration often changed, new inspiration plucked from the papers that father would bring home and new favourite colours integrating themselves into your home plans but one thing remained the same each time. Your husband. He never had a face, but it wasn’t important. He was warm, strong without having to prove just how macho he was, kind— you could feel his love from the next room on. That was all you really wanted. You could forget the house, forget the land, live in a barn for all you care — you just wanted to experience a love like the ones in the fairytale books stacked high in your room.
It had been a week already of this routine you’d grown used to. You wake up, feed yourself and then the chickens, come inside, clean yourself and then the house, paint, crotchet or read — however the mood takes you, eat lunch, tend to the crops, brush the horses, maybe milk a cow, come inside and cook dinner, bathe, think about your dream husband and grind your wet messy cunt into a pillow, feel guilty, beg for forgiveness and then sleep. It was an easy life, and you couldn’t complain— but you couldn’t help feel the world had more to offer.
Your mother often told you that gifts from above come when you least expect it, you just had to keep your eyes open. You always wondered how one might find these gifts with no idea where to look.
Your gift arrived bright and early the next morning.
Well, not technically as early as it should have been, infact you probably nearly missed it. The roosters calls at 6AM each morning, but on that very day you had decided to sleep in. A few hours wouldn’t kill them, you think as you pull a plush white pillow to lay over your ear— it’s not like the chickens would starve.
At 11:45AM, you stumble bare foot onto the grass outside, setting out on your walk to the barn a little way up the land. Your pert nipples harden, awakened by the cool morning breeze as the thin white fabric of your nightdress blows in the wind. With the sunlight shining directly on it, it was sure to be totally and utterly see through— and you suppose that was one upside to living in the middle of nowhere, yards upon yards from civilisation. No one would see you. Sigh.
You feed the chickens, totally blind before it even occurs to you that anything might be astray. Infact, you don’t even seem to notice that the barn door was left ajar, as opposed to how you usually leave it bolted by a wooden slab to prevent the animals from wandering off or being massacred by foxes. You suppose that’s the price you pay for sleeping in, you live in dreamworld for the next few hours.
The Earth seems to stop turning for a moment when you see him.
You’re more curious than anything, wide eyed, holding your breath as to be totally silent despite having been humming and speaking to the chickens only a moment prior. You tiptoe through the hay, shards of straw sprouting between your painted toes and pin-needling your sole as you draw closer to the man. A fallen angel, your first thought.
He’s half curled up onto his side in the hay behind the stable for your white pony. He has thick-ish arms crossed over his chest, his hat laying over his face seeming to be serving as a purpose to block out the light. You figure as you hadn’t woken up him before, a closer inspection couldn’t hurt. Unhurriedly, you sink down into a squat beside him, knees pointed upwards and feet taking your balance. A real man, in your barn? It couldn’t be. You chew on your bottom lip, goggle-eyed and inquisitive as you cautiously lift the hat away from his face.
He doesn’t wake and you’re for some reason thankful. It gives you time to observe him, the breath all but knocked from your body as you take in just how beautiful he is. He was perfect, and just like what you were hoping for when you wished to be delivered a husband.
Dark eyelashes kissing at the rim of his closed eyes, pale lips and freckles, sunkissed across his nose. Your eyes trail over and across him, now with his face in mind taking in account what he looks like as a whole. You were still in disbelief, a real man sleeping in your barn. But then again, as your eyes skim lower and you notice the blood seeping through his shirt over his stomach — you wonder if he was sleeping. Surely he wasn’t dead? Only God could be so cruel to deliver you the perfect man without a pulse.
So, you press two cold fingers to his neck, searching for the rhythmic beats signifying life. As soon as you do so, the man jolts awake — wide brown eyes meeting yours.
“Jesus.”
This is where the stare off commences— you were sat in a squat giving him a straight shot up your night dress with dome like eyes and parted lips, observing him like he was some sort of alien life form that had happened upon your barn infront of your very eyes. Your chest rises and falls, and his gender fails to betray him as his eyes fall there for a moment, subconsciously noticing the way your bare tits strain against the thin fabric with each exhale. Somewhere in the back of his mind he can’t help but acknowledge that you’re a pretty thing, totally his type. In any other scenario, he might’ve seen you at a local tavern and introduced himself, getting you tipsy and loose, making you giggle beneath his soft gaze and coarse hands in some dimly lit booth before realising he’s far too respectful to take advantage of you like that.
With his eyes open, the picture is complete — and he truly is as beautiful as you thought. He had a puppy like quality to his eyes, they were big and brown but from the sunlight streaming in you could see specks of orange which intrigues you. You wish to look closer, but you feel it’s not the time. His adam’s apple bobs with a thick swallow and he tears his eyes away from yours to look around, still disorientated from sleep. He touches his wound with gentle fingers and he winces, going to push himself up on his elbows.
You open your mouth to speak but he beats you to it, warm deep voice raspy from rest as he dives into a sequence of begging.
“Does anyone know I’m in here?”
“No, I—”
“Okay, that’s— okay, please — hey, please don’t tell anyone. I won’t lie to you, I’m in a little bit of trouble with the law, nothing super bad I swear just — I needed somewhere safe to sleep so I ended up here. Didn’t take anything and uh— and I’ll be out of your hair now that I’m up.” He rambles, continually glancing at the barn doors, expecting Sheriff Shoupe to bust them down and take him in at any moments notice. You say nothing for a moment and he pushes himself to his feet, eyes squeezing shut at the soreness of his injury. “Think it’s easiest if I just—”
He cuts himself off this time, because you slip your hand into his— stopping him from going anywhere. His eyebrows jump up and he freezes on the spot, staring down at your doe eyes with a wide and confused gaze of his own.
“…Hi?”
“You just got here? Why’d you have to go?” You sound sad, and he actually can’t believe what he’s hearing. Not only did he break into your barn, on private land — but he’d totally overstayed his non-existent welcome, and now you didn’t want him to leave?
“P—pardon me? Ma’am?” He tries to be respectful, when what he really wants to ask is along the lines of ‘What the fuck?’.
You scramble to stand up and he helps you using the hand that you’re grasping. “Well, you won’t get far with a wound like that. It could get infected. Maybe you could come inside, let me dress it. You can refuel… maybe stay a few days?” The last part sounds wrong coming from your mouth. He’s a stranger for goodness sake— everything your parents had taught you about safety went against this and plus you were practically begging. You might have been embarrassed, if there wasn’t such a nagging feeling in your stomach telling you that this was meant to be.
He scoffs out a chuckle, because he thinks there’s no way you’re serious— but when he sees your wide eyes bouncing between his own, searching for something he couldn’t quite put a finger on— he realises you’re being completely genuine and his expression melts into a more worried gaze, shuffling a little closer on his feet.
“Look, I really appreciate your hospitality, but you have done more than enough, really. Just the fact you didn’t have the sheriff busting in to drag me away is something I will be very grateful for. Believe me. But I can’t drag you into this. Anyway, don’t you have family? That you live with?”
You sigh, looking down at your intertwined hands that you had yet to release, staring as if you were trying to memorise the feeling of a man’s touch incase you really couldn’t convince him to stay.
“Well yes, but they’re on a trip you see — and they’re going to be away for another week and I’m not sure how much more I can take. I’m awfully lonely, and I know you’re a stranger and all but I could really use the extra set of hands… plus it’s the least you could do… for breaking in…” You feel you’re pushing it with that last part, but decide to proceed with it anyway, any means necessary to get him to stay. He bites his bottom lip in thought as you stare up through your lashes and he thinks screw it. He’s sure you’re not setting him up, a little thing like you would be far too weak to pull that off.
“Okay, I… don’t see why not then.” He doesn’t sound certain, but you make such a good offer he’d be a fool not to accept. He bends down and swoops his hat off the floor, holding it to his chest and you take his hand once more, guiding him out of the barn.
He presses his lips together in an awkward smile at the way you confidently lead him, almost having to break into a jog to match your eager pace. Once nearing the house, you tell him your name and he nods — taking in the scenery.
You’re sitting him down in the living room before he can blink, and he takes in the setting around him. A real cozy place, a family home for sure — with a pale blue couch, a scratchy patchwork blanket draped over the back and floral cushions. There’s photos of you in multiple spots around the room, an only child — he gathers. The main photo sits on the mantelpiece, framed, a set of parents curtaining your smiling face in the image. You seem to be a few years younger, fuller in the face, still cute as a button.
He doesn’t quite realise you’d gone anywhere until you’re returning — the contents of an old first aid box rumbling in your grip. You give him a reassuring smile and lower to kneel by his feet, opening up the container and fishing around for some cotton pads.
“Do you have a name, mister?”
He clears his throat, trying to gage your reaction once he speaks, attempting to work out if the name rings any bells. “Uh, yeah. John B. John B. Routledge. You might’ve… actually heard of me. If you have, uh— I’m sorry.”
You don’t seem to react in any kind of alarming way, a smile grazing your face as you pour rubbing alcohol onto a soft white pad.
“Heard of you how? Are you famous?”
“…You’ve never seen those big ‘Wanted’ posters up in town? Kinda got my picture up on one of them.”
You peel up his shirt revealing tanned, toned skin and a wound that had crusted over with blood. You press the pad to it and he winces, knuckles turning white in his lap and head lulling back against the seat for a moment.
“Sorry.” You furrow your brows apologetically before continuing to mop up all the dried blood. “Oh, and I’m not allowed up in town. Not by myself anyway. So, I don’t keep up to date with all that… stuff.” You pull away, rifling through the box for another clean pad. He nods, eyes jumping to look at his wound and then back to you, watching your face for any discomfort regarding his presence. Oddly, there was none. If it wasn’t clear before, it’s wildly apparent now that you’ve truly been sheltered your whole life. There was this innocence you carried that was hard to come by, a lack of judgement that was sweet but made him worry for you slightly. You were lucky he had a good heart.
“That’s… probably for the best, actually. You know, they like to tell lies. I’m being falsely accused.” He speaks a little slower, and enunciates the last part as if you might not understand, and as expected— you hang onto every word, lips a little parted and wide eyed. It’s pretty cute, albeit inappropriate considering he’s a stranger.
As he speaks, you wrap his wound, pressing the sticky part down onto his skin before gently pressing the cotton covering his injury. “Well I’m really sorry about that John B. You don’t have to worry about that anymore.” You chirp, before leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss over the dressing, pulling back to offer him a sweet smile. The lines on John B’s forehead smooth out, his concerned expression melting into his own gentle smile of disbelief.
He wonders what the odds are that he’d stumbled upon a real life angel. Well, it was that — or you wanted to chop his body into tiny pieces whilst he slept and add it to your cauldron. He couldn’t quite figure it out yet, but you were pretty — and he was a total loverboy, so stupidly he was willing to take that risk.
He pulls his shirt back down over his now dressed wound and you begin to clear your things back into the first aid box.
“Is there anything I can do for you? Like, anything you need help with around here?” He offers and you look up at him, brows furrowing with adoration.
“Goodness, no— I couldn’t ask that of you.”
“Said you needed an extra pair of hands earlier.” He challenges with a smile.
“I only said that to get you to come inside. With your injury, I couldn’t possibly put you to work.”
He scrunches his face a little with a half scoff, half smile and shrugs one shoulder. “Please, this thing? It barely even stings. Come oooon.” He croons with a smirk, and you really feel the full effects of his charm now— the warm timbre of his voice headed straight to your clit giving it a heartbeat of its own.
“Fine.” It comes out airy with a giddy smile and you take his hand yet again, almost getting distracted by the coarseness against your palm, the sight of bulging veins along the backs of them.
Your bare feet are treading lightly over soft wood chip once more as you lead him toward the destroyed fence round the left side perimeter of the farm.
“So… I suppose you could carry all the planks back from the fence that fell down in that awful storm last week. I was gonna wait for my daddy to get home to get him to do it ‘cus I’m much too weak for something like that.” You point, and John B’s brown fluffy head follows your finger to the destination at hand. He nods, a doable task.
“Well a girl like you shouldn’t be lifting a finger anyway.” He turns his head back to face you with a smile, eyes squinted in the sun. He looks radiant, no sign of pain anymore and you look down at your night gown, scrunching it in your clammy hands with an uncontrollable grin at the floor, harbouring such an innocent crush on the boy already that you didn’t know what to do with yourself.
His gaze stays on you for a tick whilst you step quietly and he speaks up again, tilting his head a little inquisitively. “I really, really hope this doesn’t sound rude… ‘cus I don’t mean to be. But… are you not… married?” He trails off, thinking of all the times he’s been walloped round the head in taverns for asking questions of a similar nature. Your smile doesn’t go away, your gentle nature not retiring for a moment.
“Oh no, no. I don’t meet boys often. Thats why I’m happy you came!” You chirp, hand reaching out to softly squeeze his arm. “Can be like husband and wife whilst you stay round.”
He just laughs in response. Not necessarily in a mean way, but the same way you laugh when a child tells you they’re going to be an astronaut when they grow up.
The brutal beating of the sun does nothing to stop the honest work you’d put the self proclaimed outlaw up to, he seems to be deep in thought often — carrying the planks to and fro. You slip inside for a while to change into something more appropriate, a sweet and floral sundress that ties up at the straps and hugs you in a more womanly way. You’d rubbed your lips together as you fixed your hair in the mirror before bringing him a sandwich in the early afternoon. “You are adorable.” He grins when you do so, and it wasn’t quite the reaction you’d hoped for on your dress but it still made you warm in the face. He simply brought out a true primal bodily reaction from you— that’s why you’d skipped the panties under your dress. He was making you excited and slippery down there and you just didn’t see the point. You stay out for hours at a time to chat with him. Your affections grow.
John B. Routledge finally returns back to the house when he’s all finished and you let him lay down for a nap on your couch, finally getting some real rest in. Whilst he does so, you spend hours preparing a hearty meal — the type you reserve for when mama and papa have guests round. As the pie browns off just a moment longer in the oven, you come to the man’s side, kneeling beside him and stroking his fluffy hair back.
“I made dinner. Sure you’re really hungry.” You whisper and his eyes flutter once more, the arms that were crossed over his chest stretching out as he wakes. You sit back to give him space, and when he opens his eyes you’re there with a smile — the orange beam of sunset haloing your head. Something about an angel drafts through his mind once more and he stretches.
“Oh boy, I slept longer than I was meant to huh?” He sits up and you shrug, leading him through to the kitchen where you’d laid the round table. Steaming seasoned vegetables in a bowl, freshly picked by you. Warm bread, baked and scored by you with flowers the centrepiece of the table. A jug of gravy there too. There’s a tray of mashed potatoes waiting, creamy and delicious looking. Routledges stomach audibly growls and he chuckles at this as he sits down, taking in the scenery you’d laid out. “You… have spoiled me. All this for someone who breaks into your barn?” He chuckles as he lowers himself into the seat.
You follow him round the table with a giddy smile. “Told you I like havin’ guests.” You perch your bottom on his leg, an arm wrapped around his neck as your feet swing. It felt right. You’d always wanted to sit with a man this way, you’d seen it before in the picture shows. Man and wife, domestic bliss. His brows jump up and he clears his throat awkwardly.
“Oh… sweetheart, you shouldn’t do that. I am a— a stranger, after all.” He tries to do the responsible thing, even though there was something about your innocent brashness that was turning him on beyond belief. Your eyebrows knit in the centre, a line between them and your bottom lip seems to have doubled in size from how it pushes out.
“But I like you?” You mewl, rejected. It all seems so simple to you, which is probably feels super unfair. No one had taught you how to address men because you were so sheltered, and now it was giving you all of these complicated feelings that John B would have to deal with.
“And I like you — a whole bunch. You know I’m super grateful for you taking me in and… all that good stuff. But sitting right here is gonna… make me excited. Because I’m a guy. Go ahead and hop off for me.” He taps your lower back gently and you huff, feeling upset and rejected about the whole thing. His eyes are all wide and hopeful as he stares at you, like he wanted to make sure you were okay. The way he handles you so sweetly made your stomach stir despite your current mope.
You drag your feet to the oven comically and he stifles a chuckle at how dramatic you were, despite his sympathy. You place your hands into oven gloves and take out the pie— perfect and golden. You walk it to the table and John B sits up a little straighter, eyes darting between you and the food.
“Did this all by yourself? You have got a real knack for cooking. Should put you on the TV.” He grins, switching on the charm to attempt to loosen up your silent sulk. You nod, eyes casted down childishly and he reaches out to touch your arm. “Thank you, pretty girl.”
A small smile slips out, and he flickers his eyes over to the heart shape you’d scored onto the pie, his own lips twitching up into a smirk. “That for me?”
“Maybe.”
“Hmm.”
You end up giggling, his smile too infectious and your bad moment is all forgotten as you serve him a slice, plating up for him and then yourself before you eat. John B digs in ravenously, it’s almost erotic — the way he’s groaning at how good it all tastes, gravy dripping from his lips as he licks more off his fingers. He was clearly less proper-mannered than you, but you liked that. Table manners were for boring old people anyway. Maybe everything about him got you going, but you had to really concentrate on getting some food inside you instead of just watching the show of eating he was putting on.
Once you’re finished, and he’s finishing up on his third helping — you let your giggles die down from the wild goose chase story he relayed for you, one where he of course wound up the hero which only made your heart beat harder for him. Your socked foot begins to prod at his ankle, sliding up his leg until it rests in his lap. He doesn’t seem to mind, the food having lowered his guard just that bit as he leans back in his chair, undoing his belt. He adjusts his hips on the seat as he does so and your thighs clench.
“So what did you think?” You ask, though you think it’s clear that he liked the meal from the empty plates and unbuckled belt. He lets out a long satisfied sigh, gazing at you for a moment with a kind smile.
“I think, whoever gets to marry you is a lucky son of a bitch.” He presses his lips together, almost like he was disappointed about the idea of you with another. You blink, the hands resting beneath your chin dreamily slowly falling to play with eachother on the table.
“Why not you, John B?” You question sadly, giving him those eyes again. The ones that tug on his heart and made him wanna give you everything and anything you ask for. He lifts a napkin, bringing it to his mouth as he shakes his head dismissively, closing his eyes with a frown.
“Mm—mm.” The tissue fabric muffles the sound. “You don’t wanna marry me, believe me — okay, I’m an outlaw. Your parents would never in a billion years accept me. Anyway you… you deserve someone less rough and tumble, you know? Like a prince from a storybook. A bubblewrap life. Not… whatever this is.” He gestures to himself, more so the browned blood stain on his shirt.
You sigh, determined. “My parents would understand. They’re — they’re generous people.”
“Really? ‘Cus they don’t even let you leave the house.” He quips quickly in response, smirking at your naivety and you fall silent for a moment. His face flattens just a tad from guilt. You were far too soft for that kind of tone.
When you look up at him again, your face is more solemn — wide eyes searching his for a shred of understanding. “You don’t understand, John B. There are actual scary, dangerous men out there that would take me and do terrible things to me.”
The outlaw leans his elbows on the table, his lips stretched into an amused smile at the irony. There wasn’t an inkling of threat about the gesture, pure amusement coursing through the energy between you from his side alone. “And how do you know I’m not one of those scary, dangerous men. Hm?” His voice is warm, it seems to rumble straight from his chest. You release a shaky sigh.
“Well you haven’t hurt me yet?” Your voice lilts out, and you engage in a long stare off. There’s a different kind of tension in the air now, it’s hot and feels heavy on you. It oozes into the nooks and crannies of your balmy skin and slithers between your thighs. You can’t take the heat and you stand, beginning to bring his dishes to the sink to wash. It’s quiet for a while, John B watching you with this thoughtful and almost knowing smile as you tidy up around him. Even he couldn’t run from how good ‘domestic bliss’ felt.
You let yourself indulge in the fantasy too. Wife cleans up, husband sits behind at the table and sips at the drink she poured him. You wanted nothing more than to experience this everyday, and your heart sinks sadly at the fact that this will probably be the last. You lose yourself to thoughts and daydreams as you scrub away, to the point you nearly don’t hear him stand up, slowly walking to lean against the sink beside you.
You smile at him politely as he eyes you, and return your gaze to the plate in your hand. You mustn’t dwell. He moves, and soon he’s behind you, a hand resting against the sink beside your hip, head craning round to look at you from the other side. “You’re really serious about this husband and wife thing, aren’t you?”
“Very serious, sir.” You bat your lashes at him earnestly and his cock stirs in his pants at the title, unexpected but not unwelcomed. Bless your heart, you were only being courteous. He presses his lips together in thought and the side of your face warms with his slow exhale. Turning your body, you face him fully now. “I just think it was divine intervention that you wound up in my barn. You’re like an angel sent to take away my loneliness.” You’re shy, a little bashful about your beliefs and without thinking he cups your cheek in reassurance, thumb swiping slowly over the skin.
His eyes take in your every detail, and your lips part with a wobbly breath, nervous. “May I kiss you, John B?” You address, just as his thumb strokes the delicate skin below your eye. He grins, slightly amused by your formality and simply nods his head.
You stand on tip toes to reach him, socked feet almost knocking at his boots as your body presses to his, lips meeting. You’re a little messy, inexperienced— which comes as no surprise to the boy as he tilts his head, welcoming your mouth at another angle and taking control in order to guide you. You’re mostly a quick learner, slowing your pace to something much more sultry and he nearly can’t contain his excitement. He wants to be a gentleman, but as soon as he introduces his tongue — you lose composure, needy and all but panting into his mouth right then and there in the kitchen. He pulls away and breaks the string of saliva that connects your lips with his thumb, stroking it over your moist bottom lip as you stare at him readily.
He tilts his head, eyes wide and almost innocent as he gestures away. “You… want me to show you what husbands do with their wives?”
You nod so hard your eyes nearly roll back like one of those baby-dolls.
John B is the one to take your hand this time, leading you slowly and carefully through the house. You partially think he’s giving himself time to rethink what he’s about to do, but from the way your pussy is drooling into your panties — it feels set in stone. He finally reaches your bedroom and you watch his head move left and right as he takes it in, cheek lifting with a smile at the China dolls on the wall and the frilly white bedsheets. It’s clear your room hasn’t changed since you were a little girl. The sun is just starting to disappear behind your lace curtains and he switches on the lamp, sitting you down.
The man joins you, easing himself down at your side and cupping your cheek as he begins to kiss you again. He takes it slow, but the passion and need only grows as the splayed hand on your back begins to slide upwards until its cupping the back of your head and he’s beginning to slowly lower you to lie down like you’re made of glass.
Naturally you shuffle up the bed and he follows, hovering over you and leading with his tongue this time — the wet muscles wrapping around eachother languidly making you moan, legs falling wider apart.
“I wanna make you feel really good, okay? That okay with you?” He asks gently and you nod, sucking in a breath. You’d waited for something like this since you knew what pleasure was, craved the touch of a man with strong coarse hands and a wet mouth. Routledges thumbs swipe across your tits through your dress, massaging them until your nipples were poking painfully through the fabric as he burrows into your neck, licking and sucking.
Your whole body feels like it’s on fire as he tugs gently at your dress, eyes meeting yours once more.
“Let’s get this off, yeah?”
He tugs the garment up and over, puffing out his cheeks as he blows air out his mouth, brows raised at the sight of your naked body. You look so soft, so pliable beneath him. He was already hard just from kissing you, but this made him feel like he might combust. “Took your underwear off?” He smirks, pressing kisses to your stomach and between your tits before bringing his face up to eye level with you, same kind but teasing smile on his face. “Have you been needing me aaall day? Hm?”
You turn your head to the side, flustered and clammy with a whine— eyes screwed shut. He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Oh, now you’re shy?”
“No, s’just — when you speak like that— n’say stuff like that… makes me hurt…” You’re breathless, hips twitching and bucking slightly as he grins, pearly whites showing.
“Aw.” Is all he manages before continuing his descent down.
He’s a real tease, spending an ungodly amount of time on your tits— sucking, licking and biting your nipples until you’re arched off the bed, teary eyed and wincing from sensitivity. It’s then, and only then he starts to kiss lower, pushing himself down your pristine sheets until he’s settling between your legs, gently easing your ankles upwards so that your knees faced the sky, your cunt fluttering and open right infront of his face.
“Well she’s very pretty.” He smiles up at you, thumbs coming up to spread you. He leans in slowly, hot breath fanning over your heat before he simply presses the softest kiss to your clit. He draws back again as you whimper, running the pads of his thumbs up along your spread folds. “Hear that? So wet, pretty girl.” He marvels in a whisper.
“Just want you to make it better.” You mewl and he nods slowly in understanding, tongue swiping over his lips as he observes you.
“That I can definitely do.” He confirms before leaning in, licking and sucking at your clit as his thumb automatically rolls downwards to massage your hole. You gasp, knees shooting up towards your chest as he eats you, similarly to the pure fervour and passion he only recently devoured the meal you cooked for him. You wondered how any appetite remained.
When he sinks his middle finger inside you, your stomach tenses — a high pitched noise of relief and utter devastation leaving you. You had no idea how badly you’d craved fullness to this very moment, and you weren’t even halfway there. He’s smiling against you, glancing up as you flutter around his single digit and make plenty of noise for him. “Yeah? Think you’ve really been needing some of that, little girl.” He nearly laughs at your extreme reaction. He had to admit, it was fun doing this with someone so inexperienced. Everything to you seemed like the best thing ever.
He eats and eats away, proving himself to have quite the monstrous appetite for your slick . Your feet rest on his shoulders at one point, lost in pleasure as you whine and writhe and to keep you out of the way, the outlaw pushes your legs up and pins them there, nose deep in your gloss.
“Feels too good— feels— hurts!” You cry, because you don’t know how to put that you’re simply aching to cum.
“Doesn’t hurt, sweet girl. Just let it happen.” He corrects in that low reverberation that you’ve grown to love. After a series of ‘Uh’ and ‘Mm’s, you feel yourself hitting that peak — the one you usually reach all over the soft cotton of your pillow, but ten times the strength.
As soon as he senses this happening, he doubles down and continues repeating the same action with his mouth over and over until you’re squealing and pushing him away, curling into a ball as your completion dribbles out of your quivering hole.
He grins, real proud of himself as he pushes up on his hands to near you, gently shushing you the same way you would to soothe a baby to sleep. “I know, that was a lot huh?” He coo’s, rubbing your back with his warm hand as you suffer the aftershocks, clenching and whimpering, a smaller clammy hand reaching out to his shirt to grab a fist of it.
He forces you softly onto your back, stroking a hand over your warm forehead. For someone so convinced the two of you shouldn’t be together, he sure did look at you like you were his entire world. By the gaze shared, you would never know the two of you only met that morning.
“What now, hm?” He smiles, quiet. You open your mouth to speak, and your voice rasps from the loud and explosive release that had you calling out.
“Wanna… make you feel as good as you made me feel, John B.”
He licks his lips, thinking over it. If it wasn’t already clear, his dick was throbbing in his pants just from pleasing you— and had you wanted to end things there he would be sure to take a trip to the bathroom to finish in his hand. Maybe swipe a pair of your underwear from the basin for inspiration, but that made his stomach tense with guilt.
“Think I can manage that, yeah.” He nods before reaching slowly for his belt. “Sure?”
“Mhm.”
“Good, good.”
His belt is still undone from after dinner so he slides the snakey leather from its loops with one hand, the act more attractive than you anticipated which made you clench once more with need. He sits on the edge of the bed and you usher up beside him, pressing your naked body to him and ghosting your drooly lips over his jaw line as he sighs, working his length out of his pants.
“Oh my.” You breathe, as soon as you look down. Now you hadn’t had much experience in dealing with the male anatomy, clearly — but you knew for certain John B had to be miles larger than the average man. His cock stood tall, straight — slightly mauve towards the tip with a beautiful blue vein drifting down his shaft like a river on a mountain. His balls sat beneath, heavy and pink — inviting in a way that made your mouth water primally.
“Yeah? This is… what m’working with.” He chuckles, sounding a little nervous.
“How do I…” You mutter after a moment and he’s quick to take your hand, pressing your fingers so that it forms a cup and bringing it to your mouth.
“You wanna spit for me, pretty? Right here.” He encourages and whilst you don’t understand, you do as he wishes, letting a bubbly glob of saliva drool out into the cupped crevice of your hand. You look up at him with wide unsure eyes, searching for praise or reassurance that you’d done as he asked. He presses his lips together at the sweet and submissive expression, shifting his hips a tad in excitement. “Mm, fuck.” He punctuates with an airy chuckle, ticking his head in a single shake.
He brings your hand down and begins to smear it all over himself, releasing a shaky exhale as he does so. “So, uh… you’re gonna wanna move your hand. Just like this.” He sighs as he works your hand up and down his shaft, slowly jerking him off. Your eyes flicker between his face and pretty dick to make sure you were doing it right. As you do so, he presses a lingering kiss to your lips, muttering a “So sweet, bubba.” Against your mouth.
This only encourages you to gain confidence, doing whatever feels right. You twist your hand— squeezing just a tad harder towards the tip as that seemed to be what made him release that heavenly groan, jaw constantly agape as he watches your hand.
“Theeere you go sweetheart. Easy right? Like milking a cow.” He kisses your temple briskly once more before his eyes screw shut, chest heaving with quicker breaths. You get carried away, fascinated by the pearly precum that seeps from his slit as you work him with your hand and following your own judgment you lean down. You figure if he used his mouth on you, you could return the favour.
His eyes open with a loud shudder when you tentatively wrap your plush lips around his tip, working your hand up and down to try and squeeze more of the interesting salty flavour from him. You let out a long drawn out moan of your own as you feel your clit throbbing with desire, liberating his precum from your mouth to let it dribble back down his shaft in messy bubbles.
He winces, placing a hand on your shoulder and removing you with such an abrupt speed that you nearly flew off the side of the bed. You sit up straight, slick mouth pouting as your eyes flicker between his, worrying that you’d done something wrong. There’s a second of just looking at eachother, before you stumble over some words.
“S—Sorry. Did I hurt—”
“No, no God no. I uh— I just wasn’t sure if I should make a mess all over that pretty face just yet.” His wide eyed expression melts into a reassuring smile, thumb rising to swipe lovingly at your cheek. You lick your lips, savouring the taste of him and nod — not quite sure where to go from there.
Your silence makes him question, and he eyes you. “Is there… anything in particular you want now?”
You think, blinking your doll-like eyelashes off into the distance before nodding once more— pushing off away from him and scurrying to the head of the bed where you lay yourself gently on the pillows.
“Hm?” He follows up in confusion, craning his neck round to watch you.
“Would… like a baby now, please.” You spread your legs a little, shy and bashful in your request like you wasn’t sure if you’d asked impolitely. His face falls as he stares at you for a moment before closing his eyes, rubbing over his face with an exasperated chuckle, elbows on his knees.
As you stare at him with with an upset little pout, already ashamed by your forwardness. “Like husband and wife?” You try to justify and he sighs out his nose, turning his body fully to you.
“Oh sweet girl.” He tugs you gently lower toward him by your hips, rubbing his thumbs at your waist. “We just met.”
You launch into full fledged begging, whiny and high pitched with tears threatening to dive over their trough. “I’ll make you so happy John B, I’ll make all your problems go away and you won’t have to run anymore. Please?” You were deadset on this man giving you your dream life, and you’d officially pushed shame to the side in order to get this. His brow is permanently creased, staring with those big wide puppy dog eyes, continually stroking your skin in hopes to calm you.
“Are you… sure that’s what you want? You’re still young. So much time for all that.”
“Just want it now. I’d never be lonely again.” You sound defeated, staring down away from him now. He felt bad, he’d always hated disappointing people. Once upon a time he was a fixer, always running to his friends aid to make their problems go away. That urge never died, just burned low and quiet like an old candle flame. He wanted to make your problems go away too.
“Okay.” He presses his lips together. “I’ll give you what you want, sweetheart.”
He watches your devastated expression lift into a radiant grin, and it was like watching the sun appear from behind a grey cloud after weeks of downcast weather. “Yeah?” You chirp toothily as he crawls over you, leaking tip grazing your tummy and then your folds as he buries his face into your neck.
“Uh-huh.”
When he pushes his tip inside, John B says a prayer for the first time in his life.
He’d never really followed any religion. His father had been the type to say it was all a bunch of ‘Mumbo jumbo’ and that he should believe in the human psyche instead, or something like that. But as your wet folds swallow him and you release that high pitched mewl at the inevitable stretch — he finds himself asking God — please, please don’t let me knock this young girl up.
There’s a warm blanket of chills that cover his spine as he slowly sheathes inside of you, feeling like he was pushing deeper and deeper into a black hole that would selfishly keep sucking him inside for the rest of his life. It felt too good, calming — like falling asleep. He was euphoric.
“So — so big inside me!” Your cry knocks him out of his thoughts and he kisses your shoulder before looking down to watch himself push in all the way to the hilt.
“Feel okay, gorgeous?”
You nod, a pained whine falling from you as you dig your nails into his skin, walls fluttering around him like they were constantly trying to accommodate for this thickness. “Fuck.” He groans, before sliding back a little and starting to thrust. Yeah, he wasn’t gonna last too long— he needed to get to work on you fast.
As he gently fucks into you, your plush tits recoil with the movement and he can’t close his mouth, sounds and sighs leaving him without permission. A hand slides between the two of you, the other pulling his shirt up to grip between his teeth— giving himself a better view of the way he strokes at your clit — your legs being spread exposing it, making it easier for him.
You clench, and shudder — that sweet face contorting with each time his tip ever so slightly grazes your cervix, careful not to bruise it. You really were beautiful, that type of homely beauty he’d thought of marrying in his lonely nights of travelling through desert and grass. The type of girl you work for, the type that deserves spoiling, princess treatment. The more he fucks, the more he’s convincing himself that impregnating you might not be the most awful thing after all. Why should he chase away security?
Your fingertips grace his chest, and he takes your hand — pinning it to the bed as your fingers intertwine, using the grip to aid his rolling thrusts— speeding up the pace and force now he knew you could take it like a champ. His mouth opens to speak, and his shirt drops out of it.
“Taking me real good baby. You like getting fucked, don’t you?” He coo’s and you can only nod, tears gathering in the corner of your eyes before rolling down to your temples. Poor thing, lost for words.
There’s a wet slapping sound with each thrust, your cunt equally gushing as it was thirsty — hungrily welcoming each inch of his, and even demanding more by locking your ankles around his lower back. Perhaps you did it for comfort, or perhaps because you suspected a hesitance, the threat of him pulling out last minute too much for your baby-crazed brain.
“Jesus. Sweet little puppy.” He breathes like it’s a revelation beneath your ear, the curly tuft of hair above his shaft tickling you as he continues to rub your clit.
“S’gonna happen again, John B. The big feeling.” You strain, eyes clamped shut and sniffling— too overwhelmed by your impending orgasm. He kisses each eye lid and watches you closely, experiencing you unfold once more.
“Thats my good girl. Let me have it, pup. Gimme a good one.”
You’re an explosion of whimpers and moans, thrashing under his firm grip once more— and he’s not sure when your orgasm ends, if it even ends at all— he doesn’t care, the release pushing him close to his own. He speeds up his pace, hand that was at your clit now wrapping around your lower back, forearm pushing your lower half up and against him, forcing you to just keep taking him.
He was like a beast from a fairytale book, fucking wildly into you with a primal determination that had you struggling to breathe. You’re crying now, full out crying because it’s just so much. There’s still one last thing you require, and only he can give you it.
“You wanna make me daddy, huh?” He demands, that gentleness in his voice gone. It’s nearly unrecognisable from him, and you preen beneath the rough touch.
“Mhm!”
“Words.” He barks. He didn’t mean to be mean, he just got a little bossy when he was close. You’d come to learn that.
“Please give me a baby. Please just — make you a daddy! Need it!” You’re squealing, voice shaking from the hard ‘plap plap plap’ of his balls slapping against you. You feel you might pass out if this goes on much longer.
He releases with a long groan, lips dropping to the centre of your chest and back arching upwards. You register his sounds before you feel it, hot slimy ropes of him— shooting up inside you, warming your walls. You moan too, because it feels so good to be full. It feels right, like this was what had been missing after all.
Everything is a blur for the next few minutes. It’s like you black out a little, because maybe you forgot to be breathing like you should have been. You briefly recall John B scooping you up and helping you through that, ignoring the gooey seed dripping from you to cradle you like a baby, humming a calm “Breathe, sweetheart. In and out. With me, c’mon.” Your gentle boy was back, and through your haze you smile.
Once you’re tucked at his side beneath a soft cotton blanket, his hand stroking over your head after cleaning you up, a whispered conversation ensues.
“Do you really like me John B? Like, you really think I’m beautiful?” You inquire, gazing up at him with stuck together black eyelashes. The question was so innocent, yet he could tell it was so meaningful.
His expression doesnt falter, a gentle smile sat comfortably on his lips as he continues to pet you. “Baby, I think you’re the ponds swan. Just… gotta get to know you a little better, okay? ‘Specially if I really did put a baby in you.” Only then his smile falters, brows knitting as the reality sets in. Oh Lord.
“Okay.” Your eyes flutter closed, happy to leave it at that, happy to fall asleep right by his side under his watchful eye. It was unnerving how safe a lonely girl could feel with a stranger.
“Okay. Good girl. It’ll be okay. We’ll figure it out.” He quietly reassures, watching you drift off. He’s not sure if he’s trying to dispel your fears, or his own.
summary: Rafe promised to take you out and spend your birthday with you, but you don’t hear from him all day and then suddenly he shows up at your door trying to explain. (angst version to my first birthday girl blurb) (title changed for series — previous title “birthday girl angst version”)
cw (for whole series): 18+, rafe x f!reader, mentions of drug use, angst, eventual smut, violence
wc: 0.6k
notes: honestly i’m thinking about making this particular blurb a series but i’m not sure though
You woke up on your birthday excited to get your day started. Your boyfriend Rafe told you the day before he would pick you up for brunch, and then you would spend the day doing whatever you wanted.
By the time you showered and were ready to go, your stomach was growling, prepared to have some delicious food. You checked your phone and saw the time read 10:45. Rafe said that he'd be here by 11:00.
30 minutes later, you hadn't heard anything from Rafe, so you decided to call him. Each of your calls went straight to voicemail. You were starting to get worried, so you decided to check social media and see if he may have posted anything. You clicked on Kelce's close friend's story and saw a party happening at his house. A few videos later, you saw one of Rafe doing coke off the table in front of him.
Your eyes start to water. He had promised you that he would stop doing drugs when you guys started dating. You knew it made him irritable and hard to be around. It also made him forgetful, which means he was probably high out of his mind somewhere and probably doesn't remember he promised to take you to brunch. Or the fact that it's your birthday.
You wipe the few stray tears off your cheek, careful not to ruin your makeup, before calling Sarah, inviting her and the pogues to have breakfast with you at your place. When you asked her about Rafe, she said she hadn't spoken to him and didn't know where he was.
-
The time was currently 10:22 pm, and you had just gotten home from your birthday dinner with your family. Rafe was supposed to be there too, but you had to lie and say he hadn't been feeling well. You could barely enjoy yourself. You still hadn't gotten so much as a text from him.
You slipped off your heels, but before you could make it up the stairs there was a ring at your doorbell. You opened the door to see Rafe standing there with flowers in hand.
"What do you want, Rafe?" You really didn't want to sit around and listen to his excuses.
"Baby, I'm sorry, really. Just please let me explain."
You scoffed but leaned against your doorframe, prompting him to keep going.
"Okay, so Kelce was throwing this party, and I wasn't going to go, but everyone kept messaging me saying I should at least swing by and everything since they hadn't seen me in a while. I went and it was supposed to be no more than 15 minutes, but things got out of hand..."
"Yeah Rafe, things got out of hand as in you stayed at the party and started doing fucking coke? Out of hand as in you got so high you didn't text me all day, on my birthday, while I'm worried sick about you?"
Rafe's eyes widened, obviously not expecting you to know about that. He outstretched his hand that was holding the flowers to you. "Baby I... I'm sorry. I can take you shopping to make up for-"
You smacked the flowers out of his hand and he flinched. Your voice was shaky as tears pooled in your eyes. "No Rafe! Money isn't going to fix this. Obviously, I'm not important enough for you to keep your promise. Getting high means more to you than being there for your girlfriend."
Before he could speak again, you slammed the door in his face and made your way upstairs even as he started to talk to you through the door before moving on to blowing up your phone. You blocked his number and went to bed, unsure of what was next for your relationship.
part 2
likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!
innocent reader accidentally giving all of rafe’s friends a show when she bends down in front of them, forgetting she didn’t wear panties that day :(( rafe has to punish her when they get home, he’s so strict and mean but also wipes her tears away!!!:(((
my asks recently have been magnificent
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you hardly notice it when it happens, too focused on your new lipgloss rolling on the ground of the country club to remember what you forgot to put on under your little mini skirt.
it isn’t until you hear the hoots and hollers of his friends and a short and bitter “jesus fuckin’ christ” falling from the lips of your boyfriend that you realize your mistake.
it’s how you end up here, face pressed into the soft linens on rafe’s bed, mascara smearing and foundation caked into the fabric. rafe’s pounding is malicious, pink tip abusing your cervix as his fingers grip your skin intensely.
“you think you’re so fuckin’ cute don’t ya? walkin’ around all my friends with no fuckin’ panties on? what the hell’s wrong with you?” his words are bitter. they make you wail into the sheets, crying out muffled apologies that fall flat on the angry boys ears.
his punishment feels like it lasts forever, harsh slaps delivered to the fat of your ass, rough tugs given to your ponytail. rafe was angry.
afterwards, when the air has become less balmy, and your boyfriend is no longer fuming, you feel like you can breathe again. you lay on his bed parallel to him, your body a pile of subdued muscles and malleable limbs.
your small voice breaks the silence, gravely and hoarse from your previous noises, “m’really sorry rafe”
he leaves you silent for a while, staring down at your head as it rests on his chest. he feels wet tears hit his skin but makes no point to voice concern, “better be kid.”
he continues this stint, angry and strict. that is until he awakes from his 30 minute orgasm-induced nap to find you still crying, curled up in a pathetic ball on the side of his bed.
“baby, you’re fine.” he mumbles tiredly, arm reaching out to pull you towards him, “enough with the waterworks, lay down. you’re tired”
you comply, brain hazy from the physical and emotional stimulation he delivered, “just forgot” you huff, burrowing your face into the soft skin of his chest once more, “was an accident”
he nods, pressing a lazy kiss to your crown, “alright babydoll i believe you, get some sleep”
something about rafe letting you suck his thumb after you get punished…
“did you learn your lesson, sweetness?” his voice is cruel, curtains bangs loose from sweat, eyes shot.
“yes, daddy.” you whimper, tears rolling down your cheek, your ass a bright red. “don’t cry baby.” rafe groans, getting some kind of erotic pleasure from it. “here you go princess.” rafe offers his thumb, which you gracefully accept.
“what do you say?” rafe hums. “thank you daddy.” you mumble, mouth filled with his thumb.
cowboy!rafe and farmer’s daughter!reader who are completely smitten by each other when he’s first introduced as the new help by reader’s father. cowboy!rafe who parades around without a shirt, knowing she’s probably lurking nearby. farmer’s daughter!reader who brings rafe snacks throughout the day as an excuse to talk to him so her father doesn’t suspect anything. cowboy!rafe who picks flowers and leaves them in random spots where he knows reader hangs out at. “i got your sunflower today.” she’d walk past him. “did you get the daisies too?” rafe couldn’t help the smile from forming on his lips when she’d turn around and they’d be tucked in her hair. cowboy!rafe and farmer’s daughter!reader who exchange looks across the dinner table while reader’s dad rambled on about various topics.
farmer’s daughter!reader sneaking out to the back house where rafe stayed at in nothing but a short nightgown while rafe told her all the crazy stories from when he was on the road looking for work. “i can’t believe you fought three guys at once!” she’d be perched over the nightstand, “you’re a very strong man..” it took all of rafe’s willpower not to take her right there, since he was a true gentleman after all. cowboy!rafe who ties bows on reader’s boots per her request, even though he already taught her how to do it herself. farmer’s daughter!reader who offers her help, which he was quick to turn down. “just sit and look pretty for me, yeah?” he’d smirk when he saw her cheeks turn red. cowboy!rafe and farmer’s daughter!reader who started going on rides in the evening time to watch the sun go down.
cowboy!rafe who’d let reader initiate all their heated makeout sessions since he wanted to make sure she was ready first. “my dad is out of town for the next few days..” reader tried to sound as casual as she could, but really her her heart was doing backflips at the prospect of being utterly alone with cowboy. “yeah, he told me about that.” she watched as rafe wiped the sweat from his forehead. “yeah..” he laughed at her not-so-subtle way of throwing a hint. “we’ll talk about it.” rafe pecked your cheek. of course later that night you found yourself underneath him, his hands pinning your thighs down as he pounded into you. “fuck, i can’t believe we waited this long to do this.”
point blank period. and for some reason it felt like your job to wrangle him, not that he needed wrangled, but someone should watch him. he’s 6’2 with a pocket full of coke, who knows what could happen.
you’d been a thing for a while, hanging around each other at parties, going on a date here and there. you had a real big crush on him.
he was charming and handsome, said all the right things and took you to all the right places. he treated you like a princess, an ideal boyfriend.
so that’s why the words he’s saying in your ear tonight, come as such a shock.
“god baby, y’look so good on my lap” he whispers to you.
he’s not wrong, you do look good, so small and straddling him in your cute little sundress.
it makes you smile, the compliment, regardless of the tone he said it with. and when he presses kisses into your jaw you smile again, “been thinkin’ about you”
the confession catches you off guard, but warms you nonetheless, “you have?” you whisper against him, bringing his face up to press a chaste kiss to his lips. his hands catch you off guard too, trailing down your sides and slipping under the hem of your dress. they don’t travel far, just resting on the soft skin beneath the fabric. but it’s enough to make you shiver against his lips, “been thinkin’ about you too”
“yeah? d’you know what else i’ve been thinkin’ about kid?” he asks.
you shake your head with a shy smile, brushing your hair behind your ear cutely, “been wonderin’ if you’re wet for me…” he trails, “if i lift that tiny dress up would your little panties be stuck to that pretty pussy?”
your breath hitches, arms wrapped around his neck as you drop your face, red with embarrassment.
he smirks at your reaction, “yeah? bet you are.” his voice comes out real low, a smooth sound that makes you clinch, “bet i’d slip in real easy too… right into you, huh?”
your mouth feels dry, only able to mumble out a pained “rafe…”
“actually,” he announces, “i’d prolly be too big for you, huh kid? big bad rafe’s too big for that tiny pussy, yeah? would have to stretch you out real good.” he pauses when you drop your head onto his shoulder, “another time.”
You creep carefully into Rafe’s bedroom, pushing the already-open door gently with your palm. Your eyes dart around, worried he’s going to be just around the corner, but you’re greeted with nothing—just the empty space that belongs to Rafe.
How exactly did you get yourself into this? It had started a few hours ago—at least that’s what you thought. You didn’t have any clue what Sarah and her new friends were up to, you were just over for a pre-planned girls night that was dismissed the second you walked into Tannyhill. Instead, Sarah asks for a favor, one that you deny almost immediately.
“You’ll be in and out, it won’t take more than a minute-”
“I am not sneaking into Rafe’s room for you, Sarah. What if he-he catches me? Finds me in there? What am I gonna say?”
“He’s not gonna be home later, I promise. It’ll be a second, and he’s always liked you most out of all my friends so he won’t even care-”
Your face flushes at the very sentence. Her brother, Rafe, the one that you’ve only interacted with on chance occasions, the one who makes your heartbeat speed up anytime he’s in the vicinity, that very Rafe, has always liked you?
You’re too caught up in that thought and its implications to even question Sarah anymore. Her new friends—Pogue friends, ones that you don’t know and aren’t sure how long they’ve known her—linger by the door. They seem eager to make sure that you agree.
You’re being moved around the board like a chess piece but you can’t find it in yourself to care. It’s shallow, you know, as one thought circulates through your mind, body, and bloodstream—Rafe has always liked you.
A hazy, dreamy mist settles over you. You agree to Sarah, feeling increasingly stupid as you settle into the living room and keep your eyes on the television. She left with her friends, and when Rafe comes down, you’re supposed to tell him you’re waiting for his sister. Once he leaves, you need to sneak into his bedroom to find a map they seem to desperately need. One of the boys suggests it’ll be in his sock drawer.
“It’s not a porn magazine, JJ, why would it be there-”
“Oh, um, I don’t know, just that it’s the number one male hiding spot-”
“What studies are you basing this off of?”
"A little thing called the study of life, Pope-”
You had interrupted them yourself, reassuring that you’ll look in his dresser and his desk.
But now, walking into Rafe’s bedroom, you're losing all your nerve. You’ve thought about this before—you’d be lying to yourself to deny it. Any girl who has a best friend with a cute older brother has too. In the summers you sleep at Tannyhill more often than your own house, but you still could have never imagined this would be the reason you’re in Rafe’s room for the first time.
The house is silent, just like Sarah had told you. Mr. and Mrs. Cameron out at the country club, Wheezie at the beach, Sarah supposedly with you but actually with those Pogues. She says Rafe is gone too, driving around somewhere with his friends, and you believe her without a second thought.
But you do have a second thought, and it's the fact that this is so beyond wrong.
Looking through Rafe’s belongings with your eyes, your hands start to tremble at the idea of touching something of his without his permission. You want to swallow your nerves to do this for your friend, but you hesitate, hands hovering over the drawer to his dresser.
For a second, you want to puke, worried that you’ll open this drawer to find porn magazines like John B had said, or worse—photos of one of his girls that you really don’t want to see.
Your shaking hands pull open the top-most drawer, but everything calms down once it’s open. Besides for white socks and plaid boxers, there’s nothing in there. Your shoulders relax, your knees feeling weak.
Then you wonder for a second—why were you so worried about finding evidence of some other girl in his bedroom? Your mind spins briefly, worried at how attached you really are to Sarah’s brother, someone who’s never spoken to you more than a handful of times. A million thoughts run through your brain, all of them about Rafe and none of them noticing the way his bedroom door has just opened wide.
“Looking for something?” The timber of Rafe’s voice hits your ears and you freeze, probably looking like something out of a cartoon, shoulders tense, eyes wide. You’re still facing his dresser, and you really, really don’t want to turn, but you do, and then you wish you hadn’t.
Rafe’s dripping wet—damp hair sticking to his forehead, a towel around his waist and droplets of water glittering on his abs. He’s looking at you like he never has before. Your eyes are focused on everything else—the bare skin of his chest, his huge arms, the blue color of his towel.
“My eyes are up here, kid.”
Like a deer caught in headlights, you turn your gaze up to lock eyes. You’re terrified—he has to be angry, no, furious. You’re practically a stranger to him, a stranger invading his privacy. But when you finally take in his expression, it’s not angry. He looks amused, a smirk playing at his lips while he takes you in, standing before him like a child about to be reprimanded for touching something that doesn’t belong to them.
“I-I…” you trail off, swallowing hard, still staring at Rafe.
“You, you?” he mocks. You think you’re going to start crying but no tears well up—yet. “What’re you looking for?” he asks it seriously, his tone shifting.
You’ve never spoken to Rafe enough to notice, but he’s incredibly domineering. You shrink just from his gaze, while he closes the door and walks closer to you.
“Um, I-” You stop yourself short.
“Looking for trouble, huh?” He says it like it’s a joke, but you know he’s not kidding. Your head shakes, trying to convince him you’re not, but it’s not much use.
He’s not very far from you now, maybe another foot and you could smell the scent of his soap, another few inches and you could feel the heat radiating off of his bare body.
You realize how you must look right now, wearing a tiny dress because of the heat outside but now feeling goosebumps prick along your arms. Your bare feet rest on his carpet while your hands feel clammy from how scared you are.
“I, uh, I needed socks.” You look down at your feet and he does too, looking back up at the same time.
“Socks? From me?”
“Couldn’t find Sarah’s. She needs to do laundry.”
“So you came in here to get mine?”
“I-I’ll bring them back. Washed. Promise.” Your gaze is now dying to avoid his, looking all around his room and then turning back to the drawer to take out a pair.
You feel a wet hand on your arm, turning you back around at full force, his balled up socks falling from your hand as you stare Rafe in the eyes. He must be able to tell from the way your body shakes in his grip, how your eyelids are fluttering fast, how scared you are.
“Don’t lie to me, kid. I won’t like it.” You suck in a sharp breath. A few moments pass.
“I’m not lying, Rafe. Promise.”
You actually don’t know it happens—ending up with his towel on the floor and your sundress right next to it, tangled up in the sheets, your body folded in half with Rafe pounding into you. He grips your cheeks and fucks you like you’re his, like he owns your pussy and every other part of you. It goes on for so long you lose track, forgetting everything else but how to say Rafe’s name, remembering nothing but how he sounded groaning into your ear. He kisses you, hard and wet, and that’s when you cum for the third—fourth? fifth? you’ve lost track—time. He cums too—inside you, and normally you think you’d maybe have an issue with that, but since you were the one begging for it, you don’t think you’re allowed to say anything in the way of a complaint.
Rafe rolls off of you a little bit later, after you’ve had a chance to catch your breath. You think he’s gonna tell you to get out so you try to get up yourself, trying to balance on trembling legs, when he puts his hand on your waist and steadies you back onto the bed.
“What’d you need? You should sit.” You look up at him, surprised. He doesn’t like it. “Water?” You nod, and he pulls on some sweatpants and forgoes a shirt, walking out and closing the door softly behind him.
You get comfortable under Rafe’s sheets, pulling them up to cover yourself and body sinking into his bed. You reach out to find your phone, which has somehow ended up on the nightstand even though you don’t recall putting it there. There’s a few new messages.
Sarah: Did you go in yet?
Sarah: I think he left, go now!!
Then one from thirty minutes after that.
Sarah: Did you find it?? Call me!!
You reply quickly, setting the phone down when you hear Rafe’s hand on the doorknob.
Sorry, didn’t find anything. Had to go, I’ll see you tomorrow.
part two of rafe and shy reader! inspired by my lovely 💓 anon
rafe didn’t like it in the beginning. when he first met you, he thought it’d be a conquest, from the way you couldn’t even meet his eyes or would flush at anything he said. he always knew he wanted an obedient girl but you were something else entirely—painfully shy, skittish with any movement from him, eager to please. he thinks he could backhand you and you would apologize to him.
he drove you home from tannyhill, and on the drive back, he decided that you were going to be his.
you didn’t have any say in the matter. rafe told you that he would see you tomorrow, and you believed him instantly, not even stopping to question anything. the stories sarah and your other friends have told you through the past months circle through your mind—most of them involving drugs and violence. it seems so odd, because you would never suspect anything with the sweet way rafe treated you when he drove you home, reassuring you when you were crying, promising to try to not scare you again.
you come to the consensus that it’s always better to play it safe than sorry—you like the idea of being with rafe, but you can’t get involved in his life. it’ll be too much for you, and since you can hardly handle watching a horror movie, you know this is for the best.
rafe said he would see you tomorrow, so you try as hard as you can to make sure it doesn’t happen.
“are you coming over today? pool again?” sarah asks on the phone, and you lamely cough.
“not today, not feeling good. next time!”
she’s disappointed, but you think she’ll be even more disappointed if she finds out her brother wants to see you again. you think you’ve dodged a bullet, until your parents drag you to dinner on the beach. wearing your usual dress and a sweatshirt with the hoodie pulled up to cover your hair, you go with them, looking around and putting your sunglasses on to hide your face at the crowded restaurant.
you make it through most of dinner, but when you finally pull your sunglasses off to find the bathroom, you see him. rafe’s at the bar with his friends, amber liquid sloshing around in a cup in his hand. you freeze, and you think he’s seen you, so you turn around and head back to your table. you squish in between your parents and duck your head when anyone walks by, earning questioning looks from them. you finally get out thirty minutes later, sprinting past the bar with the keys in your hand to get back safely to the car.
rafe thought you would be a conquest, just not this kind. he thought he’d have a hell of a time coaxing out the shyness from you, spoiling and pampering his way into your heart until he was nestled in there forever, just like he had decided, but you were a different kind of challenge.
you stop coming to tannyhill, when you used to be there more often than he was. your pool days with sarah are replaced with trips to the beach, done at alternating times. if you even suspect one of the trucks pulling up is his, you take off in the other direction or run into the water. sarah’s confused, and you don’t feel like enlightening her.
“what are you doing? do you have a stalker that i don’t know about?”
“no,” you say, craning your neck to look behind her, making sure rafe isn’t there. “i’m just… getting my steps in. yes. that’s why i keep running off.”
the shops that you often frequent, mostly just to window shop but every once in a while you’ll splurge and get yourself something new and pretty, are abandoned for online shopping. the bars that rafe frequents is just up the street, and you usually go alone, something you definitely can’t risk since the last time.
you had a new pair of sandals resting in your shopping bag, swinging from your arm as you stood outside the next shop’s window, staring at the mannequin’s outfit. lost in thought, you wonder how the outfit would look on you with your new shoes.
“hey, kid!” you hear from down the street. you turn your head quickly at the sound, because there’s only one boy in town who has ever called you that nickname. you see rafe a little further down, fast approaching. your eyes go wide. there’s only a few cars driving, so you take your chance with the next one and dart across the street, running down and then away. you worry about what will happen if rafe finds you with no one around—that you won’t be able to resist giving in despite knowing better.
when you get back to your car, you drive straight home. it’s only when you pull into your drive way and are about to get out that you notice the open shoe-box inside your bag. one sandal remained, and the other must have fallen on the street while you were escaping rafe.
even your nightly ice cream trips, your most sacred summertime ritual, had been disrupted by trying to avoid rafe. the ice cream place you and sarah loved was the one near tannyhill, so you had stopped going there in favor of the one closer to your own house, thinking that would help reduce your odds of seeing rafe.
you had forgotten one small thing—the ice cream shop near your house was the one wheezie liked best. and there was always one person bringing her to get ice cream.
“can i get a medium, no, large peanut butter chocolate fudge? with hot fudge and peanuts?” the teenager behind the counter gives you an odd look, and you fight the urge to explain yourself. you pay and step aside, waiting for your ice cream, before someone behind you speaks up.
“what, you eatin’ your feelings, kid?”
your body freezes, eyes wide, shoulders tensing up. you turn to see rafe and wheezie behind you, the little girl waving hi up at you. rafe’s laughing a little, but his smile disappears when you dart out of the door, running back to your car and pulling out.
“rafe, she forgot her ice cream,” wheezie observes, as the girl behind the counter yells after you.
“yeah, i know, wheeze.”
you think you can make it through to the point where rafe stops caring, though it’s getting harder and harder to avoid him. after so many close calls, you make a point to stay at home, electing to sunbathe in your backyard instead of the beach.
it’s the perfect set up—lawn chair on the green grass, a cup of lemonade and your water resting next to you, your book in your hand, blocking the sun from your face while your body gets all the rays. with your headphones blasting your music—bryson tiller today—you don’t hear anything, not the birds chirping or the sound of a truck pulling up, the lock on your back fence unlatching or the footsteps getting closer.
it’s not until you set your book aside to take a sip of your drink, staring up at the sky before lifting the book open again, that rafe’s head pops into your eye-line, looming over you.
“oh my god,” you jump up, startled. your book falls onto the grass. you yank off your headphones, setting it on the lawn chair while you look up, hoping what, or rather who, you just saw was a figment of your imagination.
he’s not.
you stare up at rafe, and then look behind him towards your fence, wondering how far you could get with no shoes and just a bikini.
“don’t even think about it,” he says, taking a step to cover the fence from your vision. “you know i’ll just catch you. can’t outrun me.” you flush, hands feeling clammy.
“i wasn’t gonna run.”
“yeah, right. like i believe that after the crap you’ve been pullin’ for the last week.”
“what crap? i didn’t do any crap.”
he laughs, but you know he’s being serious. rafe crouches on the grass, at eye level with you now while you sit on the lawn chair. his eyes rake over your skin. you’re wearing the same blue bikini he saw you in when he drove you home, reading what can only be the next book in your series.
“get serious. why are you runnin’?” you feel your eyes get watery, instinctually.
“you said you wanted to see me the next day. and i’ve heard bad things. and i got scared.”
“bad things? ‘bout me? from who?”
“i…i-”
“from who?” he repeats, and you get the sense that rafe doesn’t like repeating himself. words starting spilling from your mouth as a few tears escape. you don’t know why you’re crying, you never do.
“n-no one, i just, i know that you sell, um, drugs and that you get into fights. and you always have a new girl with you. and, and sarah said that sometimes you’re mean. and, um, well i’m pretty sensitive so, i just thought maybe this isn’t a good idea.” rafe nods, taking in your words. his hand comes up to wipe your tears away.
“and why didn’t you jus’ tell me that, hm?”
“because i knew if you got me alone i’d give in right away.”
“what’s so wrong with givin’ in?”
you look up at rafe, mind thinking a million thoughts, running through all the possibilities of what you were getting involved in, what could go wrong, what everyone would think. your head starts to hurt.
“stop thinkin’ so hard about it. you’ll hurt yourself,” rafe says, and your shoulders relax on their own at his words. you comply right away, falling into a hazy headspace.
“okay,” you agree, nodding.
“what’re you worried about, huh? i’d never hurt you. all this time you’ve been over at tannyhill, have i ever been mean? didn’t i even apologize last time?” you keep nodding, taking in his words now, trying to fully understand the meaning behind them.
he’s right—of course he’s right. he’s never once done anything to make you think he’s like what the others have been saying. you suddenly can’t remember what you were so concerned about. rafe’s words seem to reassure you immediately, and you think there would be nothing better than having him tell you what to do everyday.
“but if you think this—us—is a bad idea, i’ll leave now. i’ll stop botherin’ you.” he gets up, but you get up quickly too, catching his arm before he can turn.
“no! no, don’t go. you’re right. i-i was being stupid. i wanna see you tomorrow. i wanna see you everyday.”
“not stupid, kid,” he says, running a hand down your hair, holding you tight and close. you’re suddenly really aware of how thin and tiny your bikini is, how warm rafe’s body is, how butterflies are floating in your stomach and brain and pussy. “just need to stop thinking about what everyone else says. don’t worry. we’ll work on it.”
you nod in agreement again, melting into rafe while he leans in to kiss you, hard and sweet.. you don’t know how long the two of you stand like that, only that he pulls away when you start moaning into his mouth, strings of spit connected between you two and your lips red.
“get your shit, c’mon. takin’ you home with me. got your other shoe in the truck.”
warnings: 18+ only!, p in v sex, unprotected sex, pull out method, caught
“rafe!” you hiss as he makes his way into your room through his preferred method of the window. “my dad is going to kill you!”
“is he home?” he questions. he didn't see the cop car sitting in your driveway, which is why he scaled the lattice to sneak inside.
“no, but he's gonna be home any minute now!” you keep your voice quiet despite the rest of the house being empty.
“let me kiss you until he gets home then.” rafe says, cupping your cheeks and pulling you into a heated kiss. you know it's never just a kiss with him, but you can't help but open your lips for his adventurous tongue, gripping his shirt to pull him in closer.
rafe smirks against your mouth. he could have texted you asking you to let him, but that would have taken all the fun out of it.
“you have to leave as soon as my dad gets home.” you scold him as rafe lays you back on your bed.
“i know you can’t keep quiet.” rafe chuckles, hand groping at your tits through your thin pajama shirt. thankfully the flood lights above the garage are motion sensored, and with your open window they'll alert you when your dad gets home.
“if only deputy shoupe knew what i was doing to his little angel of a daughter.” rafe chuckles as you send him a glare, tugging at his shirt in a silent plea for him to take it off.
“shut up, cameron. he likes you anyways.” you roll your eyes. now if it was a pogue in your bed, that would be a whole different story.
“mhm.” rafe nods, tugging your shirt up, revealing your bare chest. “im just so charming. all the parents love me.”
“all?” you raise your eyebrows, taking your shirt the rest of the way off, flinging it across the room. “you mean you do this with other girls.”
“not anymore.” rafe shakes his head, mouth dropping to your nipple, tongue flicking over the sensitive bud. “you know they don't compare to that delicious pussy, baby.”
you tsk. “it's a shame you don't have time to eat it then.”
rafe sighs dramatically, like it physically hurts him to not be able to give you head, to let his tongue drag through your folds and slurp up your juices.
“just a quick taste then ill fuck you, promise.” rafe tugs your pajama shorts down, knowing you never wear underwear just for him as he buries his face between your legs, forcing your thighs apart as his greedy mouth explores your pussy.
“delicious, baby.” rafe groans, voice vibrating against your skin. “my favorite meal.” he continues for only a moment longer, flicking his tongue against your entrance before moving up to press a wet kiss to your clit, making you moan out, eyes flickering to your window, making sure you somehow didn't miss the floodlights turning on.
rafe stands up with a lick of his lips, quickly undressing himself until he's just as bare as you are.
“condom?” he asks, forgetting to put one in his pocket, so caught up with getting over to your house on time, even running from his car to your yard, always parking a block away to not cause suspicion.
“fuck, you didn't bring one?” you groan, turning towards your bedside table. you squint in the low light as you scrounge through the drawer, but you know that you used the last one with rafe a week ago.
“just…” you sigh, pressing your forehead into the bed. “just pull out, okay?”
“promise.” rafe nods, eyes on your ass like they have been since you first turned onto your stomach, only half listening to what you're saying, but glad that you're still letting him fuck you.
rafe kneels over your legs before you can move back to your front or rise to your hands and knees. “stay like that.” he hums, gripping his cock and pushing it between your thighs, rubbing the head through your slick.
“fuck, you're so hot.” rafe groans as you reach behind your back, pulling your ass apart to show off both of your holes. “gonna let me play with this one one day?” rafe hums, his tip sliding past your entrance to your other hole, tapping against it.
“maybe.” you smirk. but certainly not today, not when you're already playing on limited time.
rafe slides back down to your cunt, pushing in as he leans forward, covering your body with his own. one hand keeps him held up, stopping from putting his complete weight on you, while the other grips your ass.
“fuck.” rafe groans out, his voice sounding more hoarse than usual. “you feel so good with nothing in between us.”
you moan as well as rafe bottoms out, pushing as far in as your pussy allows. he sits still, allowing you to adjust, to feel every ridge and vein of his cock. he goes from giving you nothing to pounding into you in an instant, the sound of your skin slapping together filling the room.
rafe gives a glance at the window. lights still off. he smirks down at you, your hands now gripping into the bedsheets as he plows into you from behind, using the full force of his hips with every thrust.
“m-more.” you mewl out, body shuddering as rafe manages to go deeper with a tilt of his hips, along with you arching your back and bringing your ass up further into the air.
you let out loud groans with every thrust that's now hitting your sweet spot, pushing your orgasm quickly to the surface.
“fuck baby, you're so tight.” rafe grunts out. “don't know how much longer i can last.”
“re-remember to pull out.” you manage to hum out, even though you wish you could feel him fill you up, you're not on birth control and are already taking a risk with having sex at all.
“ass or tits?” rafe questions.
“ass.” you shake your hips from side to side, making rafe let out a loud curse, pulling out sooner than he'd like to to jack himself off, spilling almost instantly over your ass and back, spreading long ropes of cum along your skin.
rafe is quick to grab a tissue and clean you off, as much as he likes seeing you covered in his cum, he's got other things to focus on.
just as he's about to flip you over to eat you out, the lights outside turn on.
“fuck!” you curse, knowing you have seconds before your dad enters the house. you turn over to look at rafe. you gotta get out.”
“you didn't cum yet.” rafe shakes his head, body covering you again, pressing you back down into the plush mattress. “im not leaving without giving you at least one orgasm.”
“you're gonna be leaving with a bullet in your chest if my dad catches you!” you hiss out.
“itll be worth it.” rafe manages to force his hand underneath you, finding your clit with ease as he rubs his fingers between your folds.
“y/n!” your dads voice calls out. you usually greet him downstairs, staying locked in your room is bound to cause suspicion.
“rafe.” you moan out quietly. “please, stop.” you can barely keep yourself from screaming out as his fingers just move faster, his weight pressing down on you too much to move.
“babygirl?” shoupe calls out, his loud footsteps marching up the stairs.
“i-in my room!” you call out.
“you okay?” he asks, now right outside your door. you have to cover your mouth as rafe flicks your clit. you take a deep breath before answering.
“yeah, fine!” your voice wobbles a little, something you know your dad notices. “just period cramps!”
“can i get you some midol?” he questions, and you know his ear is pressed to the door, listening for any signs that something is amiss as rafe rubs you quicker, refusing to slow down, needing to get an orgasm out of you.
“already took some!” you call out, having to press your face into your mattress as you cum, body shaking as rafe smirks above you, hearing your muffled noises. “i think im just gonna go to bed early.” you say as soon as you recover.
“alright, goodnight sweetheart.”
rafe finally allows you to flip over, lifting himself to lay on his side next to you. you raise your eyebrows and hold your finger to your lips, signaling rafe to be quiet until you hear your father's footsteps move down the hallway.
“rafe, you almost got us caught!” you whisper, giving him a shove on the shoulder, only to be met by a proud smile on his face.
“had to get you off, princess, otherwise it wouldn't be fair.” rafe leans forward to plant a kiss on your lips, feeling the way you melt against him.
“am i forgiven?” he questions.
“yeah, just get out.” you giggle quietly. you think your dad bought your explanation, but you can never be too sure.
rafe dresses quickly, throwing your pajamas onto the bed so you can also get decent.
“gotta give you one more kiss.” he leans over your bed to give you a sweet kiss, lips moving gently against each others.
“okay, now go.” you shoo rafe out, heading to the window now that your legs feel a bit more stable, watching him climb down the lattice. he gives you a wave once his feet hit the concrete, only for his entire body to freeze when the side door opens up, your dad stepping out into the light.
warnings: 18+ only, smut, dom/sub undertones, fluffy <3, reader is called kid and stupid, clit rubbing
“rafeyyy.” you whine, squirming underneath the thin blanket covering the two of your bodies.
“baby.” rafe grunts out, his voice deep with what he wishes was sleep. “go to bed.”
“i can't! im trying really!” you complain.
rafe sighs, tugging you closer, back into his grip that you wiggled away from trying to find a comfortable position.
“just close your eyes, kid.”
you try. you really do. you shut your eyes, pray for your body to relax, but to no avail as you squirm again, causing rafe to sigh.
“alright. hold on.” he moves, sitting himself up against the headboards, arms open as you crawl into his lap, letting him cradle you in his big arms.
“this better you big baby?” he coos, rocking you softly from side to side, letting out a small groan as your bum moves against his lap.
“mhm.” you nod, resting your head against rafes chest. you close your eyes, sleep is so close, but yet when rafe tries to move you back so he can lay down, your eyes blink open.
“fuck, you're still not asleep?” rafe groans.
“im sorry!” you whine. “im trying, really. just can’t.”
“alright, shit.” rafe moves your body for you, laying your head into the crook between his chest and shoulder, arm caging your body close.
his free hand moves to your chest, massaging your tits through your silk nightgown.
you let out a low moan, eyes fluttering closed as rafe switches back and forth between your breasts, rubbing and massaging them gently enough to allow it to be relaxing instead of just turning you on.
“stupid baby, didn't even realize she couldn't sleep just because she was horny.” rafe coos, pressing a kiss to your forehead. your eyelashes flutter open, looking up at rafe.
“it's okay, kiddo.” he says. “im gonna take care of you.”
his hand moves lower to dive between your thighs, smirking to himself when he feels your flimsy underwear. he has a habit of ripping them off whenever he wants access to you, so you've given up on buying high quality material just for it to be destroyed.
“gonna rub your little cunnie for you, mkay?” rafe makes sure you nod.
his finger strokes over your underwear, right through your center. you try not to squirm around, opening your legs up slightly to give rafe more access. he presses a kiss to your head when you spread your thighs, muttering out a quiet affirmation.
“thats my good girl.”
“i-”
“shh.” rafe pets his finger over your clit before dipping lower, feeling how the wet spot has formed on your underwear.
rafe pushes your underwear to the side, unable to restrict himself any longer from feeling your bare skin. he lets out a hum of approval as he moves his fingertip through your slick.
he continues to hum, soft familiar melodies. rafe is no singer, but if he was he'd be cooing you gentle lullabies as he continues to gently rock you, two fingers now gliding through your folds.
“ohhh, thats it.” rafe hums as your eyes close, unable to keep them open any longer. you're sure to be out as soon as his fingers bring you to orgasm.
he moves up to your clit, wanting to get you off quickly so he can get to sleep himself.
“big day tomorrow, bunny.” he presses more kisses to your forehead and hairline. “gonna take you shopping.”
if this was the first you'd heard of the news, you'd certainly be wide awake and excited, but rafe has been promising you a whole day just the two of you for a while now. shopping, dinner, walk on the beach, anything you decide.
“mmm love you.” you whisper as rafe rubs his two fingers over your clit, your thighs squeezing in closer to his hand as your high builds.
“love you too baby. cum for me then we can get some sleep, yeah?” rafe resumes his humming with twinkle twinkle little star.
you let out soft mewls and moans that are the perfect accompaniment to his song, rafe playing you like an instrument with his fingers on your clit.
you don't need to tell him that you're close, you're certain he knows from the rush of wetness, the way your clit pulses as he rubs faster until your entire body stiffens, then your back arches as you let out a moan.
rafe rubs you through your orgasm until you slump in his arms, high replaced by pure exhaustion, falling asleep before rafe even lays you back down.
“mmm, that's my girl.” rafe kisses your head once more as he readjusts you in bed, eyes sliding closed now that you're content and asleep in his arms.
would rafe ever actually hurt the reader or does he always say empty promises when he’s upset? would you write that? love your work xx
ugh so basically, this is the first and only time that rafe and sweetheart actually break up :(
there was only one instance where rafe had hurt you — and it was one of, if not, the only regret that will continue to haunt him, whenever you shed even a single tear. it was pretty early on in your relationship, he was still struggling to navigate how to handle someone as pure as you, while you were still finding your footing when it came to having such a volatile lover in rafe cameron. you’d been warned by your cousin, kiara — she was firm in maintaining her stance on being against you and rafe being in a relationship … you were her family, you had a heart of genuine gold, while rafe only displayed the facade of being a blood and money hungry man with incessant skeletons in his closet.
“don’t fuckin’ walk away from me, when i’m talkin’ to you,” rafe shouted, hot on your trail as you tearfully made your way into your shared bedroom. mascara-stained tears painted your once blushed cheeks with dark and watery streaks, your lip poked out in a wobbly pout as you turned to face your angered boyfriend, “of course, the baby is fuckin’ crying — i should be the one that’s fuckin’ crying after the way you walked around like a dumb slut,” he scoffed, completely unfazed by your genuine tears of sorrowful frustration. now focusing your gaze at your kitten-heel clad feet, your shoulders slumped as a choked out sob sipped from between your swollen lips.
rafe was completely coked-out, blaming his over-indulgence on the fact that it had been months since he’d been able to enjoy a night out. his usually cold, yet enticing bright blue glaze was taken over by blown pupils and bloodshot eyes that stared at you with nothing, but disdain, “y’fuckin’ look at me when i’m talking to you,” he spoke lowly, a squeaky yelp coming out of you as he gripped your jaw, forcing your head up to make direct eye contact with him. your hand gently held onto his wrist, fat tears cascading down your waterline as rafe painfully pinched your cheeks together, “i want you to get the fuck out of my house — y’wanna fuckin’ talk to other guys while m’making us money? then fucking leave,” he spat through gritted teeth, pushing your face away as you let out a throaty cry.
that was far from the case — rafe had simply caught you making conversation with some random kook who’d failed to take the hint that not only you were uninterested, but you were rafe’s girl. but, rafe was too far gone to see anything aside from what his intoxicated mind wrongfully conjured up.
with a heaving chest, you let out a cry as you reached to grab rafe’s arm, “no, papi, i don’t want to go — please ju-just listen to me,” the second your hand touched rafe’s flexed arm, your head whipped to the side as rafe’s ring-clad hand slapped you right across your pretty face. your cheek pulsed with an aching sting as you blinked, your swollen lips parted in disbelief.
the sharp sound of rafe’s hand connecting with your face instantly caused your boyfriend to sober up, just enough for his eyes to widen in realization as he immediately approached you, “fuck, baby i didn’t mean to fuckin’—” he began, reaching an arm out to pull you into his chest, his heart sinking to his stomach as you backed away from him, bone-chilling cries leaving your mouth as you made a run for the bedroom door. “no-no, mama, please just fuckin’ listen!” he shouted, his arms successfully wrapping around you from behind as he pulled you flush against his tense chest.
“i fucking hate you, let me go!” you screamed, kicking your heeled feet as rafe tightened his hold on you, your eyes burning with reddening tears as you let out a choked sob. your cheek still pulsed as you began to sink to the floor, rafe lowering himself with his arms secured around you as you weakly clawed at his strained forearms, “please, i just want to go home,” you squeaked out, rafe’s eyes glazing over — this was supposed to be your home. you’d given up on kicking at the floor and scratching rafe’s arms, your heaving cries making you a bit sleepy as rafe wordlessly held you against him, waiting until you were calm, before he’d speak again.
tears silently rolled down rafe’s structured face as he hopelessly clung to you. you had every right to hate him and he accepted that, but the possibility of you leaving him for good was really starting to bite at him. with a shaky sigh, rafe leaned his forehead against your shoulder, “baby, pl-please let’s just, let’s just go to sleep,” he whispered, his voice wobbly as he swallowed down a pathetic cry. you remained quiet as you stared at the hardwood floor that had been scuffed by your heels, your doe eyes puffy and red from all of the crying you’d done, your eyelids heavy. “m’so fuckin’ sorry,” rafe cried, feverishly pressing his lips into the back of your shoulder, over and over again, his wet eyelashes now prominent against your exposed skin.
you were completely numb, once rafe slowly rose to his feet, keeping you in his arms as he carefully removed your clothes, replacing them with one of his t-shirts, tears rolling down his face as you remained limp, your eyes blank of any recognizable emotion as you refused to look directly into his eyes. you didn’t even move when rafe softly cradled the back of your head, pressing a kiss into your forehead as you simply blinked, your wispy lashes clumped together from your warm tears. carefully leading you to your shared bed, rafe remained fully clothed in his button-up and slacks, silently thankful that you were able to fall asleep with your bruised cheek finding comfort against his cheek. he couldn’t find it in himself to sleep, once he was completely sober and of a sound mind, rafe knew that he’d completely fucked up.
this wasn’t supposed to happen, not with you. he was supposed to be different, he was supposed to be a man of dignity, yet here he was slipping into his old ways.
so, rafe was awake when you finally woke up, his heart beating just a bit quicker as you raised your head from his chest, your cheekbone a light reddish-purple shade. it wasn’t until your exhausted and strained eyes met his, that rafe wanted nothing more than to fall to his knees and beg you for your forgiveness. but, he knew he’d be selfish to expect you to forgive him, only mere hours since he’d put his hands on you. biting back tears, rafe stood from the bed, “i want to take you somewhere, baby — y’don’t have to change your clothes, just come with me to the car, yeah?” rafe held out his hand, a slight warmth fluttering in his chest as you lightly held onto his hand with a small nod.
౨ৎ
rafe was thankful that you’d fallen asleep, about five minutes into the drive. he’d been wracking over his mistake over and over again, to the point where he couldn’t even bring himself to turn the car around and drive back home with you. slowly bringing the car to a stop, rafe gently parked the car, running a hand over his shaven face with a low and shaky sigh. his tired eyes looked over your peaceful state, your puffy lips slight parted as you fell into a deep sleep. rafe’s heart ached as he gently laid a hand on your thigh, lightly nudging you out of your sleep, a sad and knowing smile tugging on his lips as you opened your eyes.
“rafe, why are we here?” you asked, your voice raspy and hoarse as your eyes glazed.
rafe had driven you home.
unbuckling his seatbelt, rafe shifted to give you his full attention, his hand bringing yours to his lips as you looked at him with tearful eyes, “i want you to listen to me, a’ight? i need to be a better man for you,” he mumbled, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, before swallowing thickly as you held in a cry, “m’gonna get my shit together, princess—” he continued, watching as you furiously shook your head. you were stubborn, but this was the one time where he needed you to listen to him.
“no, i wanna be with you — i don’t hate you, i—” you panicked, tears streaming down your face as you softly pulled your hand away from rafe’s, using both of your small hands to cover your face.
“m’gonna come and get you when i get better, okay mama? but right now, you need to go home, a’ight?” he sighed, keeping his eyes focused on the steering wheel. if he even looked at you for a second, he knew that he’d be back on the road, with you in the passenger seat, riding off into the sunset.
sniffling back a sob, you glanced at your boyfriend through cloudy eyes, “you’re breaking my heart, papi,” you cried, your puffy lips now dry as you licked over them. you wanted so bad to crawl into his lap and fall asleep, forget this all happened. unfortunately, rafe had already made up his mind.
“baby, please go home, this isn’t easy for me,” rafe spoke sternly, maintaining his gaze on the steering wheel, tears burning at his waterline as you nodded weakly, before stepping out of the car, gently closing the passenger door as you walked towards your house.
neither you nor rafe had the strength to look at each other as you made your way into your house, leaving rafe a tearful mess as he aimlessly made his way back on the road. every few minutes, he’d glance at the passenger seat, hoping that you’d magically appear next to him and be your usually smiley self, but he knew that couldn’t happen, not for a while.
rafe meant it when he said that he’d come get you, once he got better and he looked to make good on that promise. you were his sweet girl and he wouldn’t be able to live with himself, if he managed to lose you for good. he just hoped that you’d still love him, when he returned.
your phone was blowing up furiously with notifications you didn't have to look at to know who it was. another text from your recently self-proclaimed ex-boyfriend pinged again.
'Where are you'
'Answer me.'
'I'm coming to your house'
'We're going to talk about this'
swiping off the messages from your lock screen and angrily flipping over your phone, you sat up in bed where you'd been sulking and threw off the covers.
he'd really hurt your feelings this time, off and gone doing god knows what (selling w barry) for days, usually without a single text. when you did finally get to see him, he had the audacity to be tense and mean towards you.
everyone knows about rafe's short temper, but you're the one who had to deal with it. after so much of letting him take it out on you - especially recently - and not having a spare second to love on your boyfriend, you'd had enough and stopped hanging around his house. shortly after, ending it through a single text.
the sound of his truck swerving into your driveway had you furrowing your brows and pouting, stomping down the stairs to lock the front door. as you reach out the twist the knob, it swings open and you're left stumbling back.
his mere presence towering over you wipes your confidence to say anything. forcing himself inside, he shuts the door behind him and inches closer to you - like a predator to their prey.
"you gonna explain, or what?" he asks, tauntingly slow as he looks down at you and your glossy eyes, trying to contain his anger.
"we're done, rafe. that's what," you push out, though admittedly failing at trying to stand your ground. with him here in front of you, what could you possibly have been so upset about? your memory fails you the longer you keep his intense gaze.
he scoffs and shakes his head, exhaling sharply through his nose to physically release his rage - though his jaw is still firmly clenched. "that's fuckin' rich."
"i'm serious. you're— you're never here. i'm all by myself at your house all the time. i just.. it's so lonely." after finally finding your words and letting them out, the both of you seem to relax a bit.
"baby, i— listen, i'm workin' a business now, okay? i got my own money, i'm.. providing. for you." he explains in a hurry, trying to hide how desperately he needs you back.
"i don't need any of that, rafe. i just want to be around you." your voice starts to trail off towards the end, partly because of the vulnerability but mostly because of his possible reaction.
as he runs his hands over his face to ease the tension between his brows, he lets out a sigh and stays silent for a moment.
"don't fucking scare me like that. you can just tell me this shit, don't have to go starting a bunch of nonsense." the words are followed by his hands dropping to his side, looking down at you more hurt than mad.
it has your heart melting and your head nodding before looking down, letting out a bold but harmless mumble. "still mad at you though.."
the arm hooking around the back of your neck tugs you into his chest, free hand messily working through your hair to pull you firmer against him. his lips plant possessively on the crown of your head before murmuring, "jesus christ."
warnings: brief illusions to sex but no smut, mermaids (like h2o mermaids), tropical storm/bad weather, really fluffy hehe, australian!reader, lots of kisses omfg these bitches in LOVE!
it's one of the few things rafe does to calm himself down. sandals held in his hand, feet pressing into the cool sand with every step.
rafe looks down the beach, the moonlight reflecting off the water as the waves gently lap against the shore. he squints into the darkness when he sees movement, hoping his relaxing walk isn't going to be interrupted by someone's public intimate moment.
he continues walking, the same stretch of beach he always does, passing by familiar houses of friends and old classmates.
his vision clears as he gets closer, eyes widening when he sees you, knees pulled up to your chest as you stare into the water.
“hey.” rafe says when he's a couple yards away, not wanting to spook. you, but it fails as you gasp and jump up to standing.
“sorry.” rafe holds his hands up, trying to show that he means you no harm. “im just taking a walk on the beach.”
you take a step back, like you're making room for him to walk past, for him to continue to leave footsteps in the sand, but rafe looks closer at you as the moon shines down, light slightly illuminating from the rows of houses with porch lights or bedroom lights left on before bed.
“im rafe.” rafe can't seem to keep walking, his feet planted firmly as his eyes roam over your face. “i don't think we've met before.”
“just moved here.” you explain quickly. “im y/n.”
“you're australian?” it's more of a statement than a question, but you nod, the accent clearly giving you away.
“i was wondering why i haven't seen you before. it's a small island, everyone kinda knows everyone.”
“yeah.” it's a signal to end the conversation, polite but firm, but again rafe can't help himself, drawn close to you looking out onto the water just as he does.
“would you like me to give you a tour of the island? tomorrow or whenever you're available.”
“that would actually be really nice.” you smile at rafe. you were worried about leaving everything you knew in australia when your parents moved you across the country, and it's perfect luck that you meet someone your very first night in the outer banks willing to show you around.
“here.” rafe pulls his phone out of his pocket. he puts it on do not disturb for his walks, pretending it's not there, not allowing it to distract him, but he needs your phone number, needs to see you again, to see if your eyes are the same enchanting twinkling of the water in the daytime.
you take his phone and put in your name and number before handing it back, hand briefly touching his, feeling warm against your slightly chilled skin, making you realize you probably should have put on more than just shorts and a tank top for relaxing at the shore at night.
“ill text you.” rafe says, giving you one last look over before taking a step back, not turning away yet, keeping his eyes on you, as if you're an apparition thats going to disappear the minute he blinks.
rafe finally turns away to walk home, not looking back. he smiles. he can feel your eyes on him.
--
you sigh as you step into the bath, sinking in as your legs morph into a tail moments after the water makes contact with you. you never realized how much you loved showers until you couldn't take them anymore.
you have a love hate relationship with your abilities. being able to manipulate the shape and volume of water, as well as enhanced breath and super speed swimming, is amazing. but having your bottom half turn into a mermaid tail every time water touches you is a hard accomodation to make when your parents love the ocean.
you wash yourself off quickly, knowing you have to get totally dry before rafe gets here to show you around the island.
--
two weeks in the outer banks. the time feels like it's flown by. you're surprised how much you don't miss australia. your parents tended to jump around from town to town to surf, so you never developed a close group of friends either.
two weeks spent with rafe, first showing you the popular parts of the island, then his favorite areas, the spots only locals know about, filling you in on all the nicknames that can't be found with a simple google search.
the only place he hasn't shown you yet is anything out on the water. you refuse every time he offers to take you out on his boat, and his sad face breaks your heart.
“wanna go out on the boat today?” rafe asks, just as you're thinking about it, like the idea transferred from your head to his. you hope that's not a new power developing.
“sure.” you finally concede, heart fluttering when rafes face breaks into a wide smile. you are taking things slowly, despite what is clearly forming. “but no swimming.”
you hate having to lie to rafe, pretending like you don't wake up every morning and explore the waters of the outer banks before hiding under a pier to dry off. you told him you were afraid of the water, that you didn't like going in it, merely enjoying looking at it.
rafe is excited to take you out, so much so that wheezie gives him a weird look before shrugging, deciding to herself that crushes make boys do crazy things, because she's never seen her brother act like this, so enthralled.
“here, ill help you.” rafe reaches his hand out as you step into the boat. you don't want to let go as he guides you towards the bench behind the helm, allowing you to sit down as your fingers finally disconnect.
“im gonna show you everything.” rafe undoes the lines quickly before returning to you. “and by the end of your boat tour, you'll realize that the outer banks is so much better than australia.”
rafe places an arm around your back, not caring that he now has to navigate with just one as you giggle and tuck yourself into his side.
the ocean calls to you as rafe shows you different spots, the outer banks feeling so different when looking back at the land.
rafe anchors the boat at a sandbar. you look over the edge, surprised how crystal clear the water is in this area.
“there's a spring in that marshy area over there.” rafe points towards a cluster of grass. “it feeds out into the ocean here. one of the best spots in the obx.”
“it's beautiful.” you say honestly. the sun is warm against your face, tanning your skin and relaxing you, keeping you dry enough to not turn whenever a drop of water splashed over the side of the boat onto your skin.
it's dangerous to be on the boat, but you can't help it with the way rafes eyes light up as he looks at you before ripping his shirt off over his head, catapulting over the side into the water.
“rafe!” you shout as a plume of water splashes up, soaking your arm.
rafe smiles at you as he resurfaces before his expression quickly shifts to a frown when he sees you furiously rubbing a towel against your arm.
“y/n, the water isn't dirty.” rafe didn't realize how deep your fear got. he climbs back onto the boat as you stagger back, face twisting in fear as you look at rafe.
“shit, im sorry.” rafe takes a step towards you, but you back away.
“take me back, please.” you sit down at the front of the boat, making your position clear.
rafe nods, glad the water covering him is hiding the tears that well up in his eyes as he pulls the anchor.
you stay sat far away, towel wrapped around your shoulders to protect you from getting wet as rafe drives back in silence, not speaking until he has the boat tied back to the dock, now completely dry and donning his tshirt again.
“hey.” rafe kneels in front of you. “im really sorry.”
you open your mouth to reply, to tell him it's okay, but rafe continues speaking.
“you said no swimming. i should have listened. i saw this-” rafe places a glimmering queen helmet conch shell in your lap. “at the sand bar and wanted to get it for you. so you could remember this day.”
rafe stands up, figuring this is the last time he'd see you after his mess up. “so you can remember me.”
you stand up quickly, but make sure to carefully set the shell on the seat next to you. before you can second guess your actions, before that cautious voice in your head can convince you otherwise, you press your lips against rafes, having to rise to your tiptoes to reach.
rafe hesitates for a moment before kissing back, arms wrapping around your waist, tugging you in tight to him.
--
“this is a cute spot.” you snuggle into rafes side, his arm wrapped securely around your shoulders, showing all of the obx that he's taken, and you're the one who's captured his eye.
“it is.” rafe hums, looking around the diner. it's not his usual place, but rafe wanted somewhere casual to take you, so you didn't have to worry about dressing up or proper etiquette for your first official date.
you order a stack of pancakes as it's around brunch time, rafe ordering a cheeseburger for himself. you smile at the waiter as they walk away before looking to rafe. “im totally gonna steal some of your fries by the way.”
“fries and pancakes?” rafe twists his face up as you giggle.
“potatoes go with everything.” you explain, like it's a commonly known fact.
“what's your favorite food?” rafe asks. he's dying to know everything about you, wanting to sit you down and run through the list of questions in his head, but he knows it's best to take things slow, to allow things to progress naturally despite wanting to ask you about your favorite color, past boyfriends, whether you're a cat or dog person and so so much more.
you're about to answer when a passing waitress stumbles, her tray of waters heading to a crowded table dumping over you, getting your entire side wet.
the waitress goes to apologize, but you're already on your feet, mental timer starting in your head as you rush to the restroom, letting out a sigh of relief when you realize it's just a single stall as you lock the door behind you moments before you fall to the ground as your tail appears.
“y/n?” rafe must have run after you as he jiggles the doorknob.
“im okay!” you call out. “just drying off. give me a minute.”
“are you sure?” you can picture rafe standing outside, ear pressed against the door.
“yeah. ill be out soon.” you try to reach up to the towel dispenser with little luck. “you better not eat all the fries before i get back.”
you're relieved to hear rafes laugh as you finally get the motion sensor to work, rubbing it over your side, letting out a sigh of relief when your tail finally transforms back into two legs.
you stand up, always feeling a bit wobbly at first, but you want to get back to rafe, to your date and most importantly as your stomach rumbles to your pancakes and fries.
“aussie cheesy potatoes.” you say as you slide into your seat. “my favorite food, aussie cheesy potatoes.”
--
i miss you
you send the text to rafe, smiling when his response bubble instantly appears.
i was just about to text you the same thing
you know you're in the honeymoon phase of your relatively new relationship, but you can't help the giggle that escapes from your lips, the way your heart starts to beat faster.
meet you halfway? rafe sends back before an image loads of a dark beach, camera pointing down the shoreline towards your house.
on my way <3
you quickly touch up your makeup in the mirror, deciding to stay in your pajamas since they're just a loose long sleeve shirt and comfortable shorts. you hesitate between putting on a pair of sneakers or sandals, ultimately deciding more coverage is the smarter option.
you are quiet when leaving your house, just in case your parents are awake. you doubt theyd care anyways, they probably haven't noticed how much you've been gone lately. you are an adult after all, but they stopped being protective the minute you were in your teens, letting you surf solo for the first time the day after your thirteenth birthday.
you walk down the beach, keeping your steps fast as you look for rafe, breaking out into a jog when you finally see his figure emerge from the darkness.
you throw your arms around rafe as he twirls you, tucking his head into your neck, pressing kisses to your delicate skin before pulling back to connect your lips together.
“hey.” rafe smiles at you, lowering you carefully back to the ground.
“hey.” you peck his lips again in another kiss.
“you look beautiful.” rafe says earnestly, the words falling from his mouth. you're beautiful to him during the day too, but there's something about night time that makes you shine, like the moon calls to you.
“not too bad yourself handsome.” you let rafe string your fingers together before beginning to walk, back in the direction of tanneyhill.
you chat about your days as you stroll, mostly with what rafe was occupied with as he helped his dad, spending your first day away from each other since you arrived on the island. safe to say you're both falling fast.
“stay the night with me?” rafe asks when you're standing in front of tanneyhill, the large house frightening imposing.
“i don't know…” you trail off, but the smile on your face tells rafe you clearly want to.
“at least lay with me on the hammock for a while.” rafe tugs on your hand, and you find your feet following him. he lifts the mosquito netting up as you duck under, toeing your shoes off as rafe lays down.
you snuggle in next to him, sighing as you rest your head against his chest, the fabric squeezing the two of you together.
you both enjoy the gentle quiet, the sound of the waves and wind rushing through the leaves the only thing breaking into your peaceful silence, not needing words, just each other.
sleep takes you both, warmed by your bodies wrapped together.
--
you're not sure what jolts you awake, but you're glad it happens as your eyes snap open, a drop of water hitting your cheek.
“shit…” you mumble, quickly pushing it off your skin as you look up at the gray sky, the events of last night coming back to you as you realize you're still in the hammock next to rafe. you don't want to move, you're the most comfortable you've ever been in your life, but the skies threatening to open and dump it's rain down on you has you scrambling.
“baby?” rafes voice is deep with sleep as you rush to put your shoes on, knowing the dew on the grass is going to turn you as you look towards the house.
“i-i need to pee!” you yell quickly, pushing out of the mosquito netting as you run, the rain beginning to fall. you're aware of every drop as you push some away with your abilities, but ultimately you can't stop nature as a few drops hit your back.
you aim for the glass doors, praying they're left unlocked as you burst inside, eyes widening when you see not just wheezie, who you've come to know pretty well, but the entire rest of the cameron family milling around in the kitchen.
you're seconds away from transforming as you find your voice. “bathroom.” you simply say before rushing into the closest half bath, glad you accepted the full tour from rafe one day when both ward and rose were away from the house.
“shit.” you mutter under your breath as you hear through the door that rafe has come in after you, mentioning something to his family about rain coming before the tropical storm set to hit in the next couple weeks if it doesn't change direction.
you grab the towel, neatly embroidered with their last name as you rub your back, glad it's only a couple drops as you're quickly able to exit the bathroom.
“sorry about that.” you say awkward, clasping your hands in front of you.
“i was wondering when you lovebirds would wake up or if the rain would do that for you.” ward smiles, eyes flicking between you and rafe. you let him lead the amount of affection as he walks and wraps his arm around your shoulders.
“stay with us for breakfast, y/n.” rose says. clearly someone told the couple about you, most likely wheezie tattling on her brother. you just hope she said nice things.
“yeah, id love that.” you say after rafe squeezes your shoulder to let you know it's okay.
--
good morning gorgeous
you smile at the text, grabbing your phone the second you were awake.
you quickly reply, a string of emojis that only lovesick you would type out.
there's a party this friday. come with me?
you glance at the calendar hanging on your wall. not a typical one filled with appointments or birthdays, but one charting the phases of the moon, letting you know when it's safe to be out at night. you let out a curse when you realize friday night is a full moon.
sorry baby i can't :( parents want me home to call my grandma back in australia
you can come after, yeah?
sorry rafe
you leave it at that, hating telling him no, but you need to stay inside during the full moon.
you should totally go though! spend some time with your friends
rafe doesn't mention the party again when you meet up later that day.
--
“i got the party changed to saturday.” rafe says, his head sat in your lap as you brush your fingers through his hair.
“what?” you question, raising your eyebrows. you're sat in your bed, the afternoon sun pouring in from the open windows, watching some show on tv neither of you were truly invested in, just background noise as you look into each other's eyes.
“the party this friday. you can go saturday right?”
“yeah.” you nod, smile stretching across your lips. “yeah, i can.” you shouldn't be surprised rafe changed everyone's schedules just to fit yours, the party is at his friend's house after all.
you're excited to finally meet them, you've heard bits and pieces from rafe, but have never gotten to actually see them.
you spend the entire time you're locked in your bedroom on friday night choosing exactly what to wear, curtains drawn tight closed, even blankets thrown over for extra precaution, not allowing any of the full moon to peek inside.
you realize you made the correct decision when saturday night comes and you open the door to rafe, his jaw visibly dropping.
--
“oh my god, i was totally picturing someone different when you were talking about topper.” you whisper to rafe after walking away from his friends to find a quieter spot. you didn't even have to tell rafe that you were starting to get overwhelmed, he seemed to sense it and pulled you away, not caring that kelce was still going on about something.
“what did you picture?” rafe asks, hoping the talking will distract you from all the excitement of the party, finding an empty guest bedroom and sitting down on the bed together.
“i don't know why but dark hair.” you shrug. “and i always pictured glasses.”
rafe laughs as he leans against you, your hand coming to his hair to scratch at his head, the soft movements of your fingers comforting you just as much as rafe.
“thanks for meeting them. and coming here with me.” rafe says earnestly. he's always liked parties of course, going wild and getting drunk or high or whatever he felt like that night, grinding against different girls and ultimately taking one to bed. rafe never put together how all of that was just a distraction, that he wasn't truly happy.
“you make me happy.” rafe says, turning to look at you, eyes still twinkling, reminding him of the ocean, the moon, the most stunning gemstone, and something so uniquely you.
“rafe.” you coo, pressing your lips together. you don't come out of the guest bedroom until the morning after, giggling quietly as you sneak out of toppers house, your hair a mess and clothes askew.
--
“i just realized ive never seen you in a swimsuit before.” rafes eyes look carefully over your body, having just taken off your coverup once your arrived at the spring again, rafe vowing not to jump in again, simply enjoying laying out and tanning on the boat.
you smile at rafe, gesturing for him to get closer.
rafe crawls over the bed area at the front of the boat to hover over you, pressing his lips tightly against yours. your hands feel his muscles, skirting from his chest down to his defined abs.
“you know, there's no one else out here.” you smile up at him as you reach lower.
“naughty girl.” rafe chuckles, glancing around to make sure no boats were within view.
once you're both finished, tired and panting, skin sheened with sweat, rafe finally brings up a question he's been dying to ask.
“why don't you like the water?”
you place your chin on your hand as you turn to look at rafe, taking a moment to formulate an answer. you hate having to lie to him, but you don't want to reveal your secret yet, for rafe to look at you any differently.
“i used to love to swim, to surf.” you say honestly. “but then something happened… and it's turned me away from it. i don't even like pools.”
rafe doesn't push for more, but his face does turn to a frown, thinking about whatever happened. he's guessing you got caught in a riptide or had a near drowning experience, he would never in a million years guess that you fell into a cave exploring an island after a fight with your parents and swam through a mysterious pool to get out, waking up to surf the next day only to transform into a mermaid.
“im sorry baby.” rafe says honestly. he wishes he could fix whatever happened, to enjoy riding on a jet ski with you, or relaxing on a sandbar.
“it's okay.” you shake your head. “i like being on the boat with you.” you say. “you make me feel comfortable.”
rafe pulls you back into him, not caring if you get an uneven tan line as he kisses you again. he swears you taste like honey with the slightest hint of sea salt.
--
“we got cyclones all the time back in australia.” you tell rafe, looking out your window. the sky looks normal, no sign of a tropical storm that's supposed to be blowing in soon, thankfully it never upgraded to a hurricane.
“do you want me to come over for it anyways?” rafe smiles at you as you finish braiding your hair. “hold you just in case you get scared.”
you laugh as you stand up, dramatically falling onto the bed, placing a fanned hand on your forehead. “oh, save me rafe cameron, save me!”
rafe laughs as well, pulling you against him. your shared laughter always turns into shared kisses. it's been months now that you've been in the outer banks. you swear your accent is even diminishing ever so slightly.
but you don't miss australia. you love your life here. spending nearly every day with rafe, exploring the island and the waterways, trying out different food spots and even letting rafe give you golf lessons, despite your inability to hit the ball straight.
--
you open the door as soon as there's a knock, expecting rafe, but your face falls when you see ward standing there.
“y/n, is rafe here?” he questions, entire body soaking wet from the storm, now covered by your front porch, dripping onto the welcome mat.
“no.” you shake your head. “he should be here any minute though…”
“shit.” wards eyes are wide with worry. “he took the boat out. i was hoping he docked it here.”
“the boat?” your voice rises as your anxiety does as well. “what is he doing on the water in this storm?”
“he likes to go to the spring at the start of storms to watch them roll down the coast, but he's always back before it hits. something must have happened to the boat, i don't know.” you can tell ward is rambling. “maybe he ran out of gas or got caught in something-”
“you have to go out there and save him! the waves-” you don't need to tell ward, you're sure he knows how bad the water is going to get, how violent the storm will make the sea, even in the shallow area rafe is in.
“i can't.” he shakes his head. “i already tried the coastguard but they won't go out until the storm is over.”
“he's your son!” you argue. “you go!”
“i can't.” you can hear the pain in wards voice. “if something happens to me, sarah and wheezie will have no one.”
you know it's not an appropriate reaction, but you're so mad, so worried about rafe being out there in this mess that you slam the door right in wards face.
you walk back through your house, past the empty kitchen and dark dining room to your living room, the glass doors revealing the storm raging outside. you make a decision in that split second, opening the door and barely shutting it behind you before you take off, rain hitting you in the face. you send out a prayer to the moon to allow you to reach the water before you transform. you make it onto the sand before face planting, having to awkwardly pull yourself forward into the water.
the second you're submerged, you take off, using your speed swimming abilities to navigate through the waters and strong tides. you go faster than ever, heading in the direction of the spring and sandbar, desperate to find your boyfriend and make sure he is safe.
you see through the rain at the surface of the water his boat, letting out a sigh of relief when you see he's anchored in his usual spot.
“rafe!” you call once your surface. “rafe!” you shout again, hoping he can hear you over the roar of the wind and rain.
rafe pops up, looking over the edge, wrench in hand, clearly trying to fix whatever is wrong with his boat, a smear of oil on his forehead not washing away with the rain.
“y/n?” rafe shouts. “what the fuck are you doing?”
rafe drops the wrench, rushing closer to the edge as he looks at you. your tail flicks up. there's no hiding it anymore. you don't want to anyways.
“babe, get out of the water theres-” rafe blinks, his eyes squinting as he realizes its not some strange fish, but in fact covering your legs.
“get in the water rafe im going to swim us back home.” you shout, eyes turning to the sky, looking down the coast. the worst of the storm hasn't hit yet thankfully. with the size of the waves coming, it's sure to capsize his boat.
“baby-” rafe swallows harshly before jumping over the side. he may not understand what's going on, but he trusts you.
you grab onto rafe, keeping his head above the surface as you swim. it's slower getting back pushing him with you, but you go as fast as your tail will allow.
“you're a mermaid.” rafe says simply when you get back to shore, deciding to go to your house instead of tanneyhill, just in case ward is looking out his windows for rafe to return.
“go inside, ill be okay in the water.” you tell rafe, just needing to make that final couple steps onto the sand.
“im not leaving you out here.” rafe simply says, glancing to your tail before back at your face. he scoops you up in his arms, holding you tight to his chest as he carries you onto land, despite how heavy your tail is.
you hold onto rafes shoulders as he brings you inside. he sets you down on the plush rug in the living room as gently as possible.
“the tail doesn't go away until im dry again.” you lift your fin up and down as the rain pounds against the windows.
“ill get some towels.” rafe is ridiculously calm, coming back and patting you down in silence until your legs reappear.
“im sorry for not telling you earlier.” you say with a whisper, hand reaching out to hold rafes, shifting to sit up. “i-i love you rafe, but i understand if you want to break-”
you can't even finish your sentence as rafe leans in, pressing your lips together. “i love you too.”
--
“is that the right part?” you ask rafe, leaning yourself against the ladder as he fixes the engine on the boat, somehow it managed to stay anchored at the sandbar.
“we'll see right now.” rafe cranks the key, letting out a cheer when it turns on.
you smile as he jumps over the side in a dramatic celebration before resurfacing and shaking his wet hair out of his face.
“okay, you gotta show me again.” rafe stands on the sandbar as you swim around him, tail flicking back and forth.
you concentrate on a spot of water, lifting it into the air before popping it like a bubble, sending droplets raining down.
“you're the most amazing person ive ever met.” rafe says.
“most amazing mermaid.” you correct him with a giggle and a splash of your tail.
easter at the chateau was pretty non existent. atleast until bunny!reader came along.
they’d heard you before they saw you, the sweetest thing clad in white — bunny ears flopping atop your head and basket rumbling in your hand as you run across the dry grass, attracting attention of the two males on the porch.
“happy easter!” you squeal, diving into jj’s arms and wrapping your legs around his waist.
“jesus girlie, you got a rocket up your ass or what?” he pats your butt, his own smile unable to be hidden, always happy to see you. you jump down, straightening out your skirt.
“hi sweetheart.” john b seems less alarmed, arms crossed as he leans against the front door hinge. “uh, what’chu got there?”
“your first clue!” you pant, still out of breath from your eccentric entrance. you reach into the otherwise nearly empty basket, merely there for appearances and pull out a neatly folded pastel pink card, handing it to john b.
“clue?” he frowns, opening it up as jj wanders curiously over to his side.
“you guys are always chasing treasure so i decided to make you guys a little easter hunt!” you grin, eyes glimmering hopefully at the two. jj points his finger at you.
“now that? that is adorable. can this little hunt maybe like, wait until i’ve had some breakfast? or—”
“you have to do it now!” your voice cracks, looking devastated at his lack of enthusiasm.
“—you know what now is the perfect time for a hunt, actually so— that’s perfect, yeah—”
john b is smiling down at the card, reading the rhyming clue you’d scrawled in pretty little curlicue. it was terribly easy, but incredibly sweet. the brunette touches his chest with a genuine smile, looking back up at you.
“healing my inner child right now, y’know that?”
his blonde best friend snatches the card, adjusting his pants with the other hand as he reads over it. “when’d you have time to hide all these clues around anyway?”
“last night! when you guys were sleeping.” comes your simple smile, fiddling with the lace trim of your mini skirt. they look at you, and then eachother before shrugging.
“yeah, checks out.”
you follow them around, giggling on their tails as they pretend to struggle with your clues. when they arrive at the last card, you scramble away— waiting for them in the bedroom where the hunt ends, shedding your clothes to reveal a frilly white lingerie set, and presenting a carrot cake you’d baked just for them.
when they bust in casually, you’re stood with a grin — stopping them in their tracks. john b’s eyebrows jump up as his gaze rakes over you and jj is quick to fix his cap, licking his lips. “woah—”
“tada! s’me! i’m the prize!” you can barely contain your excitement. small kitten heels with the fluffy ball at the toe tip tapping against the wooden floors. john b is the first to break into a grin, closing in on you.
“you know, i had my suspicions that might be the case, but i didn’t wanna presume…” his voice is warm and deep and you’re already biting your glossy lip, gazing up at him like he hung the moon and stars as he strokes the skin around your waist.
“wow, really guys? on such a holy day?” jj sarks with faux disapproval as if he isn’t actively working his belt off his shorts. you thump your foot lightly.
“guys! you have to try the carrot cake first. worked hard on it.” you’re pouting, fluttering spiky black lashes up at your boyfriends as the darker haired of the two twiddles with the white fluffy bunny ears you’d secured to the top of your head.
“yeah screw that.” jj scoffs. you furrow your eyebrows, john b shooting him a look. “oh you know i love your baking babydoll but right now i got my mind on eatin’ one thing and one thing only.” he approaches with a charming smile, dropping a kiss to your lips as john b works your panties down your legs.
