ᵃ ʷʰᵒʳᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᵇᵉᵃᵘᵗⁱᶠᵘˡˡʸ ʷʳⁱᵗᵗᵉⁿ ˢᵉˣᵘᵃˡ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳᶜᵒᵘʳˢᵉ 21 I’m really bad at responding to requests and having a posting schedule so pls don’t expect too much from me 😔
warnings: 18+ only, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, hair pulling, male receiving oral, tour bus sex, brief mention of rafe being okay with cheating??, famous!rafe, drummer!rafe, fan!reader, very brief mention of rafes mom dying
rafes mother was the one who pushed him into it. a way to get out of his anger. it was the last thing she asked of him before she died, and as much as rafe struggles to admit it now, the only reason he never gave it up was for her.
he looks out into the crowd in a brief break between songs, listening to the main singer, tyler, who has slowly become a friend, address the sea of people.
it's the biggest venue they've ever played. rafe never thought he'd be in front of thousands of people coming from his small island, let alone playing the drums they're all dancing along to.
the earpiece turned to max volume announces and then counts down to the next song. rafe falls into easy rhythm, having practiced this song a million times. the last one of their set, the hit everyone is waiting for.
rafe doesn't feel the passion for performance like his other band members, but the money is something he can never say no to.
rafe gives the crowd a wave as he heads off stage alongside his band mates, noting the excited cheer of fans at the front of the crowd, so intrigued by the mysterious rafe.
“hey, some of my sisters friends wanna meet you.” tyler says, tugging rafe towards the open backstage area rather than escaping out the door to his tour bus like he always does.
“fine.” rafe grumbles, wiping the sweat from his forehead, just wanting to get back and get in the shower. his biceps are sore from drumming and he has no interest in talking to random girls.
no interest until he sees you.
rafe ignores the other girls all fawning over him and his band mates and steps right up to you.
“hi.” you say quietly, a shy smile creeping onto your face. “im y/n.”
“im rafe.” he says, eyes swirling all over your face, taking in your features.
“i know.” you laugh softly, and rafe loves the sound so much he wants to hear what other sounds you can make. “im a fan. i like that keeping secrets song.”
rafe smirks. keeping secrets is the song with the longest drum solo, and probably the closest to the style of music he likes to make most. “thanks, y/n.”
“don't feel like you have to stay and talk to me.” you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “you're probably sick of meeting random people and want to go back to your bus.”
“nah, i don't mind when they are as pretty as you.” rafe says, before glancing around the room, noticing no one is really paying attention to either of you. “but if you'd like to go back to the tour bus with me…”
you're nodding quickly, allowing rafe to place a hand on your upper back as he leads you through hallways and doors until you get outside. rafe peeks out first, noticing a gaggle of girls on the other side of the fence.
“you don't mind if pictures are taken of us?” rafe asks. he doesn't care if anything hurts his reputation, but he doesn't want to put you in a bad spot.
“as long as you don't.” you shrug. “i don't have a boyfriend.”
“good.” rafe realizes that he didn't even ask, or really care. if you did have a boyfriend he would have just snuck you out a different way.
rafe pushes open the door, not bothering to hide his intentions as he wraps an arm around your waist as you make the short walk to the tour bus.
“this one is just mine.” rafe says. “it was a requirement when tyler wanted me to your with them. i wasn't about to travel around the country packed in with them.”
“it's nicer than i expected.” you admit, looking around the surprisingly spacious living area.
“the bedrooms in the back.” rafe points.
“oh, trying to rush to get me in your bed?” you turn to look at rafe.
“im just trying to give you the full tour.” he says, but you're already walking backwards down the aisle, a smirk on your face.
rafe is quick to follow, glad he picked up all the dirty laundry before the concert. he shuts the bedroom door behind you even though no one should be entering his bus for a while.
“kiss me.” you tell rafe, gripping your hands onto his collar.
rafe ducks his head, his mouth covering yours. he wraps his arms around your middle, tugging you in close, feeling the way your bodies mould together just as your lips do, sharing dominance back and forth.
rafes hand drops to your bum, giving it a squeeze and using your mouth opening in a moan as an opportunity to thrust his tongue forward, licking and pressing against your own tongue.
rafe tips you backwards and you allow it, falling back onto the bed.
your eyes follow rafes every movement closely, the way he pulls his shirt off and tosses it away, revealing his chiseled torso. you could already tell how strong he was from his arms during drumming, but his physique is even more impressive when he's shirtless.
“like what you see?” rafe asks with a smirk. you blink your eyes to get out of the trance he's put you in enough to take your own shirt off.
“i don't know, do you like what you see?” you ask as rafe crawls onto the bed, his hands gripping over your tits, covered only by a leopard print bra.
“fuck yeah i do.” rafe answers, reaching behind your back to undo the clasp before pulling the bra away, flinging it to the other side of the room as his palms cover your chest again, thumbs finding your nipples and swirling around them until they're hard peaks.
rafe surges forward to kiss you when you let out a moan, unable to keep his lips away from you when you sound so good, fingers continuing to toy with your nipples as his hips slot between your legs, pressing his hard length against your core.
you take it as a cue to move against him, grinding your hips upward, annoyed at the barriers separating you but glad that they'll be gone soon.
“need you naked right now.” rafe pulls away, clearly having the same thoughts you are.
“and i need your cock in my mouth.” you confirm, both sliding off the bed to undress in a rush, hands gliding over the revealed parts of each other's bodies.
you sink to your knees the moment rafe pushes his underwear down, coming eye to eye with his cock, hard and standing away from his body.
“god.” rafe groans, head tipping back as your lips wrap around the head of his cock, giving it a gentle suck. his hands find a place on the back of your head, guiding you down.
rafes cock is large and pushing on your throat but you're unwilling to back down. you breathe through your nose until you're able to relax and take him all the way down.
“shit!” rafe moans out as you begin to drag your lips up and down his length, starting slowly but quickly picking up speed.
rafes hands help guide you, the taste of his skin filling your mouth, not even minding that he just performed a show. the slight tinge of sweat just makes everything better as you breathe in deeply through your nose and flick your tongue against the head of his cock.
despite rafes hands pushing you up and down, he can't control himself, hips slowly rocking back and forth to fuck himself deeper into your mouth.
you have tears in your eyes but don't stop yourself from looking up at rafe, watching his mouth drop in a moan as you make eye contact.
rafe pulls your mouth off of him, smearing the head of his cock over your lips as your tongue darts out to continue tasting him.
“on the bed.” rafe gives your hair a tug upwards. while you want to taste what it's like to have rafe cum down your throat, you need to have him inside of you.
you climb onto the mattress, staying on your hands and knees as you turn to look at rafe with a slight smirk on your face. “you don't have to wear a condom if you don't want. im on birth control.”
“yeah?” rafe says, the mattress dipping as he moves to kneel behind you. “and i can trust ya? not gonna baby trap me?”
“you're not that famous.” you roll your eyes with a smile on your face, making sure rafe knows you're just joking.
rafe laughs, hands squeezing your hips as he angles them upward, your arms bending to display yourself even more for rafe.
“that's it, baby.” rafe takes hold of the base of his cock, running it through your folds, feeling how wet you are.
“come on.” you wiggle your hips, ass shaking. “fuck me already.”
rafe lines himself up with your entrance, hips suddenly pushing forward to sink into your cunt. the sudden thrust and overwhelming pleasure has you falling forward onto your elbows.
“jesus, you're so-” rafe let's out a curse. “so fucking tight.”
you purposely clench your pussy tighter, feeling the way his cock pushes against your walls.
rafe gives you the shortest moment to adjust before he begins fucking into you, thrusting hard as the sound of skin slapping spreads around the tour bus.
“s-shit!” you squeal out, body rocking back and forth with the force of rafe pumping into you.
his hands squeeze your hips, fingers pressing into your flesh as his cock fills you over and over again.
you wonder briefly what your friends are doing, whether they're still talking to rafes other band mates or if the members had gone back to the other tour bus.
you aren't sure if they're aware where you are, but you don't really care in the moment as rafes thrusts speed up, a steady beat showing off his skills as a drummer to keep tempo.
one of rafes hand glides up your back to grip your hair, pulling it into a makeshift ponytail with his fist as he tugs your head back, causing an even louder moan to fall from your lips.
“you like that don't you dirty girl?” rafe chuckles as your moans just increase the more your face gets tipped up towards the ceiling.
“god yes!” you squeal. “don't stop.”
rafe has no plans on stopping the rhythmic motion of his hips, grinding every couple thrusts to touch against the spot that has your body shivering uncontrollably, pleasure so good your mouth just hangs open, unable to even make noise.
“you gonna cum for me?” rafe questions, pounding harder knowing that he can't last much longer.
“fffff-” you get out before moaning and attempting again. “fuck yeah.”
rafe drops your hair, hand moving to wrap around your waist and rub over your clit. the quick motion is all it takes for you to cum, body shaking as you fall onto your face, pleasure coursing through your body causing you to scream out.
rafe groans at your tightness clenching tight around him, and with a few more punishing thrusts, he's spilling inside of you with a moan and filling you up.
rafe grinds his hips as you both come down from your highs until he flops down on the mattress next to you. you straighten out so your ass isn't in the air, but can't even manage to turn to your back.
“that was good.” you giggle. “im glad you weren't too tired from your show.”
“speaking of shows, you gonna come to the one on friday?” rafe asks.
“it's like an hour away right?” you hum, turning your head to look at rafe, giving him a smile that makes his heart beat a little faster.
“yeah. you can catch a ride on the tour bus.” rafe offers. “just can't mess around before the show and use up all my energy fucking you.”
“but you'll definitely save your energy for after?”
“for you?” rafe reaches over and pulls you tight to his chest. “hell yeah.”
Summary: After the loss of his daughter Miguel wants nothing to do with kids that is until he impulsively offers his pregnant neighbor a job at the Spider-Society.
Tags for this story: Grumpy x Sunshine, Double life, Secret Identity, Fluff, AGNST AGNST AGNST, Miguel x reader, Spiderman 2099 x reader 8.3k words
I really hope you guys like this one<3333
This takes place before the whole Miles situation, and instead of Miguel taking the place of his other self in a different universe when Gabriella was older in this story he took his place while his "wife" was in the last trimester. So he had the chance to see Gabriella grow.
Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10
You slowly make your way inside your apartment complex carrying 4 plastic bags 2 in each hand filled with groceries. This is your second trip and with just your luck the elevator is out of order and you live on the 3rd floor which means that's 4 flights of stairs you have to walk up. It's 9 a.m. You just got off of work at 6 and took a nap in your car because the supermarket doesn't open till 7:30 and here you are on a hot morning in Nueva York breathing in through your nose and out through your mouth focusing all of your energy in making your way back into your apartment safe and sound. This is one of the parts you hate about bartending coming home so early in the morning after dealing with loud rude and obnoxious people all night. You love the rush and the adrenaline that comes with bartending. Memorizing drink orders, making the drinks, learning who's cheating on who. You love it you always had but now you're questioning your job as you steal a glance at your round belly that's peeking through your oversized shirt that's sticking to your skin. No one else knows it's there but you do.
Oh right, and you're 4 months pregnant.
It's just you and your baby, your ex he…. Well, let's not talk about him now, shall we? You just need to focus all of your energy on making your way back into the safety of your own apartment and these stairs aren't helping nor are the bags in your hands.
"One step at a time" You whisper as you reach the last flight of stairs.
"Can you move?" You jump startled at the deep voice coming from behind you. Immediately turning around you accidentally drop a bag and of course with your luck it was the bag that held your glass carton of milk. The contents spilled out all over the stairs and landed on the stranger's shoes. Your eyes widen in horror. You slowly drag your eyes from the bottom of their feet to their face. It's a fit middle-aged man with black hair that looks like it was gelled back but is now messy. He definitely has a few wrinkles on his face and you're pretty sure you just added another one. He's wearing a pair of black slacks that hug his thighs and a loose black top.
"Shit you scared me, let me go get something to clean up" You begin to place your bags down but you hear a dissatisfied grunt from the man.
"Just move"
"But your shoes" The man says nothing as he takes a step up towards you and he stands there looking at you expectedly. You give him a confused look before realizing that he wants you to move. Or more so that you have to move since the staircase is so narrow. You watch as he makes his way into the 3rd floor and it isn't until you hear a door opening and closing that you look away from the direction that he went in.
Bringing your attention back to the stairs you let out a groan of frustration all you wanted to do was put these groceries away and go to sleep. But no now you have to clean up this mess and you just lost a carton of milk that you spent almost $5 on. Fucking inflation.
Sighing you trudge your way up the last flight of stairs making your way back to your apartment to get stuff to clean up the mess. You hope that's the last time you see him. That encounter was embarrassing enough.
But of course, it's not every day for the next two weeks you see him each morning as you come home from your shift. Each encounter always leaves you feeling embarrassed and leaves you feeling like he wants nothing to do with you. But by the 3rd day, you realize that the two of you are actually neighbors.
"I didn't know we were neighbors," You say as you both are unlocking your doors. When he doesn't say anything you decide to speak again. Maybe he didn't hear you.
"It's weird I only ever see you in the mornings I've never seen you anywhere else"
"Yeah let's keep it that way" You turn around to face him but his door is already closing shut. Rude.
Day 8
Your feet hurt like hell. The bar was swarming with customers tonight which is typical on a Friday but still, you barely had any time to sit down and take a break. A break in which your feet needed desperately you chose the wrong day to wear sneakers. Finally reaching back to your apartment building you smooth down your skirt as you walk through the lobby doors. You go to check your mail before you decide to lock in for the night…well morning.
While looking through each of your mails you accidentally drop one. Since there's no one behind you you bend over to pick it up, your skirt lifting up slowly revealing the ends of your ass and your underwear. Lifting back up you flatten out your skirt with one hand as you begin to close your mailbox. Turning to head to the stairs you nearly trip over your feet when you hear a voice behind you.
"Have some self-respect" You turn around to the sound of the voice and you see the middle-aged man who happens to be your neighbor standing a few behind you with a scowl on his face.
You immediately jumble over your words. "I'm sorry I didn't think anyone was behind me" You watch as he rolls his eyes and scoffs. "That shouldn't matter, you clearly have no respect for yourself if you walk around in a skirt that looks like it will fall apart with one breeze from the wind" You gape at his words and then you look down at your skirt. It's not like you chose to wear this skirt your boss asked you to wear it, plus it got you more tips.
Rolling your eyes you fold your arms over your chest. "This wasn't by choice it's my uniform for work"
"And somehow that makes it even worse. Listen I didn't come home to talk I came here to sleep so if you'll move out the way that'll be great"
You don't know how a person you barely even know could be so rude to you. You've barely even said anything to him. You walk over to the front of the staircase before turning around to face him. "No, I think you can wait I don't walk that slow"
He walks up to you and the minute he's in front of you you take a nervous step back. He's huge in every aspect. In height and width. He towers over you easily even though you’re 5'7. But you don't let that faze you. Sticking out your chin you stare up at him unmoving determined not to let him intimidate you.
"Move"
You lean forward lowering your voice. "No" Turning around you begin to walk up the steps. Once your feet touch the 5th step you feel hands on both sides of your forearm lifting you up and putting you back on the lobby floor. Did he just…?
You stare up at him in disbelief but he's already walking up the second flight of stairs. "You're a jerk" You shout out after him as you begin your journey up the stairs.
Day 14
Once again you're coming back home around 7 am. It was surprisingly windy this morning and you can already feel the mess that the wind made of your curls. But you’re too lazy to put it into a bun or truthfully you just don't care. You really hope you don't run into your rude neighbor today, you're way too tired to deal with him. Plus you'll need all of the sleep you can get if you're going to make it to your summer class on time for 2 p.m. You're grateful that after you finish your 2 summer classes you'll finally be getting your bachelor's degree. You would've gotten it sooner if only your ex would've allowed it…. You had to sneak around to get the information you needed in order to apply for community college and you’ve spent all 4 years taking online classes. You're grateful for each day that you wake up and he's not there to yell or to put his hands on you. You thought that he was going to change you really did he promised you. But you guess there are just some promises that can't be kept. You knew you had to leave him when you were 1 month into your pregnancy and he hit you not once but twice in the same day.
You just finished checking your mailbox and you turn around ready to head upstairs when you walk straight into a brick wall…..or straight into a man who lives in the gym. You subtly rub your nose and look up immediately groaning when you see who it is.
"Can you move out my way?" Folding your arms across your chest you stare at him expectantly waiting for him to move. But he doesn't move away instead he takes a step forward and you hastily take a step back. You begin to feel uneasy when he continues walking forward until your back hits the mailboxes.
"H-Hey listen I'm sorry I didn't mean to upset you just-" The minute you see his right hand raise just above your head your body reacts on its own. You duck your head lifting your hands blocking your face from taking the blow. You wait for it to happen but it doesn't. It isn't until you hear the sound of keys rattling from above your head that you take the chance and peek through your arms. You watch as he stares at you with a confused look on his face, his eyes narrowing before he shows you your keys…?
"You left them in your mailbox"
Slowly you lower your hands as you feel tears begin to fill your eyes. It's been 3 months and yet you still…."O-Oh I'm sorry I didn't know"
Hesitantly you take the keys from his hands and you watch as realization dawns on his face. He takes a step back before opening his mouth to speak. "Did you think….I would never"
Wiping your eyes you try to bring light to the situation by changing the topic. "I'll willingly let you go first this time" He takes another step back before you meet his eyes he opens his mouth to speak but you shake your head no turning your attention away from him.
"Just go…please" You don't watch as he leaves you’re too embarrassed to do so but you wait till you hear the sound of a door opening and closing before making your journey up the stairs.
•°~°•
It's early Saturday morning and you had to have a security guard walk you home. Working at a bar as a woman has its cons just like every other job. Men immediately think that you’re up for grabs or they can talk to you however they want. Two men made crude comments towards you the whole night. One of them even tried to touch you inappropriately. As a safety precaution, you begged a security guard to walk you home. You even offered to pay him. But thankfully he agreed to escort you home free of charge.
Instead of going into your apartment straight away, you decided to go up to the roof to catch the sunrise. Even though you just came out from outside you feel like you need a breath of fresh air. You just need a moment to let go. You're grateful that there are only 5 floors in your apartment because of course the elevator has yet to be fixed. You absentmindedly rub your belly which seems to be growing each day as you walk to the roof. You can't believe that you're already 5 months pregnant. In the app that you use to track the growth of your baby, it says that at 20 weeks they are the size of a banana. You’re really excited to know the gender of your baby. You can’t wait to hold them in your arms for the first time. You’re even more excited to paint and decorate the nursery. Finally reaching the door to the rooftop you say a silent prayer hoping that you’ll be alone before pushing open the door.
•°~°•
Fighting an anomaly and putting it back where it belongs no matter how many times he does it never gets easier. This particular anomaly did put up a fight and left him bruised way more than he likes to admit. Miguel does his last round of patrol of his neighborhood before landing on his rooftop. He hates that he has to come home. Or rather that he was forced to return to his place for at least 4 hours a day from Jess, Peter, Pavitr, Gwen, Hobi, and of course Lyla. He doesn’t know why he puts up with them. If he had the ability to do so they all would be fired maybe with the exception of Jess she isn’t too bad but she has her moments. They all decided that it was a good idea to riot against him. Their reasoning:
“Running the Spider Society is taking over your life”
“When was the last time you took a shower your funk is spreading throughout Spider Society”
“It’s getting hard to speak to you I can smell your breath from over here”
“You need a break”
And so on. At first, Miguel was able to ignore them but it all started to go downhill when they began to purposely mess up on missions. Even though their mistakes always got fixed it became annoying. So Miguel had no choice but to agree with them that he’d go home each day for at least 4 hours. He hated every moment that he wasn’t in his office. The fate of the multiverse is in his hands and they want him to sleep…? At first, he found ways around it he would just disappear from his office somewhere in Spider Society but they quickly found out and made it their business to see him out of HQ.
Each morning deep down inside Miguel felt his brain and body rejoicing the minute his brain knew that they were on the way to his apartment. It was hard some days he would just spend the 4 hours in his bed checking on stuff through his watch. Most days he didn't even make it to his bed he just stayed in his living room staring at the clock waiting for those hours to pass him by.
There’s a large gash on his shoulder and a deep cut on his thigh that he's pretty sure he’ll need stitches for. He would've just fixed it up at the Society but it made no sense since he was due for his 4 hours of “break”. He thought he might as well go home and take care of it. Turning around to make his way out of the rooftop he stops as he sees the door opening.
It’s you.
He rolls his eyes at the sight of you. Here’s another reason why he loathes coming back to his apartment every day. He doesn’t know why the universe is doing this to him. Every day before making it to his apartment he runs into you like clockwork. It doesn’t matter if he takes the long way back or if he leaves an hour in advance he always runs into you. Each morning you look more tired than the last. You probably spend the night out partying. But every day..? It seems a little excessive but you seem young enough to partake in such activities. You’re weird but also very annoying you talk way too much and for someone your age you walk too slow.
Miguel knows his size is intimidating to most people and he knows that he isn’t particularly the best at conversing with people but the moment he saw you flinch it made him think is he really that scary? To those at Spider Society sure but when he’s a regular civilian no suit no nothing just him bare and exposed he's not…he can't be that scary right? He would never hit you or any woman for the matter. He knew better and the one thing that he learned from his mother was to respect women.
Concealing himself in the shadows he takes a step back watching, waiting to see your next move. He watches as you walk closer and closer to the edge of the building. What are you doing? It looks like you have no plans of stopping and if you continue you’re going to fall off.
Shit, you’re going to jump.
Miguel immediately makes his way over to you grabbing you by the elbow and pulling you away from the edge as far as he can.
"Don't do it, it's not worth it" He watches as you stare up at him with wide eyes. Your eyes dart up and down from head to toe.
"Spiderman?" He looks at you confusingly before he realizes you’re talking to him. Right, he has his suit on you don't know that he's under here. Remembering how you flinched last time he drops his hold and takes a step back but this time his back is towards the edge. So if you try to make a run for it you'll have to go through him.
"What are you doing here, what's going on?"
"You were going to jump"
"I was not" He narrows his eyes at you before you stand on your tippy toes peeking out over his shoulder. He moves into your line of vision.
"Don't think about it" You roll your eyes at him before tapping on his shoulder. "Come on big guy move you're going to make me miss it" You immediately step around him and begin walking towards the edge.
Oh for fucks sake.
He hovers over you subtly holding out a hand just in case. He watches as you try to sit down awkwardly. Why don't you just sit down normally? Thankfully you're not wearing a skirt this time so he won't get flashed by you. When you finally sit down you begin to scoot closer over the edge till your feet are dangling. You slowly put your arms behind you leaning back as you close your eyes taking a deep breath.
He's watching you confusingly as you look straight ahead. When he feels heat on the side of his face he slowly turns his face in that direction. The sun is rising, peeking up just above the horizon. When he hears you sigh he turns his attention back to you.
"I was just trying to catch the sunrise. I don't need to be on suicide watch I'm fine." He folds his arms across his chest trying to analyze you. His muscles bulged against his suit. He's not sure if he believes you or not. It isn't until he feels a sharp pain in his shoulder that he remembers his current state. When you finally look up at him your eyes gape at the sight of his wounds.
"My goodness you’re dripping blood all over the floor” You swing your legs over so that they no longer dangle off the edge and you form a squat position before rising to your full height.
You wave your hand beckoning him to follow you. "Come come I have a first aid kit" You walk a few steps but turn around when you realize he's not following you.
Miguel shakes his head no and stretches out a hand so you can continue walking. "Go on"
"No you're going to leave the minute I turn my back come on big guy let's go" You reach for his left hand and he slowly draws it back. Your eyes dart down to the big watch with the orange screen that's on his wrist.
You point to his watch. "Oh…I don't want that come on you're wasting time you're going to bleed out before you know it" Grabbing him by his right hand you pull him into the staircase. Miguel doesn't know why he's letting you do this. Maybe he's just too tired to protest. He watches as you drag him down the stairs you're not even half his size, what are you thinking? Surprisingly though you're not that slow when walking down the stairs. Once reaching on the 3rd floor he subtly glances at his door that's directly across from your's. So close yet so far away. He's going to regret this. He takes a deep breath as you pull him inside your apartment.
•°~°•
If you knew that you were going to start your morning on your knees for Spiderman you would've laughed and called yourself stupid. You sat him down on the loveseat couch in your almost bare living room. He looks so out of place it looks like he's been photoshopped in your apartment. You sit down on your knees carefully pulling your shirt away from your body so that it doesn't stick to your growing belly. You sit your first aid kit on the couch between his legs. Before starting you pull your curls into a very uneven puff on top of your head. You watch as he quickly turns away folding his arms across his chest. You're super positive you look like a hot ass mess right now but it's fine you have no one to impress.
You stare at the deep cut on the inside of his left thigh near his knee. You're grateful that it isn't high up on his thigh near his crotch otherwise things would've gotten awkward real fast.
"You're going to have to take off the suit so I can properly disinfect it" You expect him to take off his suit but instead the parts of the suit where his cuts are disengage creating an opening so the skin around it is free.
"Oh, that's very convenient" You begin to get out the stuff that you're going to need to disinfect his wound. You lean forward placing a gentle hand on his knee to support yourself.
"This is going to sting" You slowly press the cotton ball dipped in alcohol on the wound. You pause for a second expecting him to flinch or to grimace but you get nothing. The only thing you feel is his body tensing up. Taking that as a sign to continue you try to figure out what to say. How does one start a conversation with Spiderman?
"What Spiderman are you?" You take a glance at him before returning your attention back to his wound.
“2099”
“Oh so you’re this universe’s Spiderman…that’s cool. Sorry, I don't keep up with the news. I felt like I should've known that '' After you finished cleaning his wound you stared at it for a little bit realizing that it’s going to need to be stitched up.
“You’re going to need stitches, is that alright with you?” You watch as he finally turns to look at you, unfolding his arms and resting them on the back of the couch.“You know how to do stitches?” You slowly nod your head. Getting the needle and thread ready.
“How?”
“I had to do it a lot…are you ready? A distraction may help lessen the pain or….well distract you from it”
“Uh, so how was your day?” You begin to thread the needle through his skin hopefully this will lessen the pain. You steal a quick glance at him thinking that he’s paying you no mind but you find him looking directly at you well you’re assuming that he is since you can’t see his eyes. You begin to scan him tracing the red lines of his suit with your eyes. From down his arms leading to the red spider in the middle of his chest. He’s incredibly huge. The width of his shoulders looks like a foot long or maybe it just looks bigger because you’re on your knees? One headlock from him and you'd be dead instantly. It isn’t until the lines on his face circling his eyes narrow that you realize he is in fact looking at you. Shit, he caught you staring. Feeling embarrassed and your skin heating up you turn your attention back to the very important task at hand.
“I’m sorry I thought you weren’t paying attention since you didn’t answer me”
“Did you get this from a villain or were you-”
“You talk a lot” You feel your heart sink at his words. You were just trying to engage in conversation to distract him from the pain but you guess you’re doing too much. He’s Spiderman after all he probably does this all the time so it’s not a big deal to him.
“Oh…you’re right I’m sorry let me hurry up and do this for you so you can go back to doing what you do best” You give him a small smile shutting your mouth too scared to say anything that will embarrass yourself even further. Once you're finished with the stitches you take a small scissors to cut the hanging thread.
You then get what you need to disinfect the wound on his shoulder. Realizing that you're going to need to get closer to him in order to clean the wound you sit up on your knees leaning forward to get a closer look but almost immediately he draws his head back. Oh, maybe you should've warned him.
"Sorry I just need to get a closer look at your shoulder, I don't mean to make you uncomfortable" He stares at you for a moment before turning his head to the side away from you to presumably give you more room.
Putting the finishing touches on his wound you seal it with gauze and you lean back resting on your knees again. Pleased with your work you sigh contentedly happy to be finished. You fight back a yawn and glance at the clock. It's 8 am and you've been up since 2 pm yesterday. You pat his knee twice signaling that you're finished.
"All done" You rest your hands on the couch bracing yourself as you stand up grabbing your first aid and heading over to the kitchen counter.
Walking over to the fridge the sounds of your bare feet hitting against the tiles echoes throughout the room. "Sorry, I don't have much to offer you but would you like something to drink? I have milk and water?" You turn around to face him expecting to find him where you left him on the couch only to find it empty with a dent in the middle where he sat. He left. You sigh, maybe you were doing too much. He's Spiderman for goodness sake. You shouldn't have expected him to take a break. He probably has a million and one things to worry about.
You glance around the room trying to figure out how he left it isn't until you feel a small gust of wind your eyes dart to the open window. Making your way over you close the window before turning off all the lights to get ready for bed.
"Come on baby Mommy's tired"
•°~°•
Two days have passed since you practically dragged Spider-Man into your home. You left for work last night finding a blue note on your window seal saying "Thank you" with the number 2099 at the end of it. He stopped by to give you a thank you note. You place the note on your kitchen counter since you have yet to get a coffee table. You've been using the extra money that you have to spend to buy things for the nursery and diapers for the baby. You didn't know how expensive diapers were until you had to buy them. You're waiting for your next ultrasound appointment to finally find the gender of your baby. You can't wait, you know that you'll be grateful for whatever gender you have. This is your baby and you'll love and cherish them no matter what but secretly you're hoping you'll have a baby girl. You just can't wait to have a mini-you running around.
You just got off from work and you're parking your car a few blocks away from the supermarket because you know how hard it is to get parking over there. You’re way past overdue for a grocery run and luckily you got paid today so you can finally satisfy your cravings. Weirdly you've been craving cream cheese and pickles. It's a weird combination for sure but that's all that you can think about while you are at work. You sigh as you make your way to the supermarket. You have an uneasy feeling in your stomach and no it's not the baby you just feel worried. The voice in your head is telling you to hold off on getting groceries but your intense cravings are saying otherwise. Grabbing a shopping cart you head immediately to the milk and cheese aisle.
You stand in front of the cream cheese section with strawberry cream cheese in one hand and regular low-fat cream cheese in the other. You've been standing here for 2 minutes trying to figure out which one to get. Half your mind is telling you to get both and the other half is telling you to rip them both open and take a taste.
"Pregnancy cravings?" You turn around to the sound of the voice coming from behind you. It's a small elderly woman with her own shopping cart. You glance down at your stomach and realize that it's poking through your white buttoned-down shirt. Although your stomach isn't that big yet it's finally noticeable that a bump is there. Or maybe it’s because you aren’t wearing an oversized shirt this time around. But just 2 days ago it wasn't like this at all, it wasn't this big. You swear your stomach grew overnight. Well, it was only a matter of time before you could no longer hide it.
You slowly nod and give her a small smile patting your belly affectionately. "Yeah I don't know I've just been craving cream cheese and pickles lately"
The elderly lady smiles pushing her shopping cart forward. "When I was pregnant with my 3rd I wanted to eat nothing but cheese and pretzels" You tilt your head at her words that don't sound bad at all you eat cheese and pretzels all the time.
You let out a small laugh. "That's something I eat on a regular" The lady shakes her head "I'm lactose intolerant and at the time I haven't eaten a slice of cheese in years"
"Oh," She laughs at your reaction before walking a little further ahead.
"Cherish them when they are small. I think that's one of the best stages when they can't speak" You laugh at her words as you rub small circles on your belly. "I'll keep that in mind" You bid your farewell to the old woman and finally decide on getting both cream cheeses. Placing them down into the shopping cart you walk away in search of where the pickles are located.
While walking your feet slowly come to a stop when you feel the ground beginning to shake. Pausing for a second it isn't until things on the shelves all around begin falling off and the shakes become more violent that fear begins to settle deep within your bones. Earthquakes in Nueva York are unheard of. You begin to slowly back away clutching your stomach as the sounds of panic fill the air. What's going on? You turn around making your way to find cover when all of a sudden a big boom fills the air causing your ears to ring. Turning your attention to the direction of the sound more than half of the wall on the right side of the supermarket is gone. Bits and pieces of the ceiling are falling along with it.
No no no this can't be happening.
You walk with hurried steps to the semi-secluded corner of the supermarket. You place a hand over your ear trying to cancel out the sounds of panic and one hand holding your stomach protectively. However you stop mid-way when you see another pregnant woman who seems to be further along in her pregnancy trying to help the elderly lady you were talking to moments ago. Glancing back and forth between them and the safe corner you begin to make your way over to the women.
•°~°•
"Lyla, what's the stats?" Miguel, Ben, Jess Peter, and a few other spiders from HQ are swinging their way to where the anomaly is currently wreaking havoc.
"An anomaly is currently attacking the supermarket downtown so far there aren't any casualties"
"And which dimension does he belong to?"
"Earth-616B" Miguel grunts in response as he lands in the parking lot of the supermarket. Half of the supermarket walls are gone and the ceiling is slowly crumbling. If they don't act soon a lot of casualties are going to happen. Miguel barks out orders for the rest of the group before doing his own thing. Miguel begins to gather up some of the civilians using his webs to get them out of the way and to safety.
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees someone walking further into the building where the ceiling is unsteady and small chunks of it are landing on the floor. What is wrong with them? Do they have a death wish?
"HEY WHAT ARE YOU DOING MAN GET OUT" Miguel yells at them while he's swinging in the air knocking some of the debris out of the way while some spiders deal with the anomaly. When he realizes that they aren't stopping he angrily scoffs to himself as he begins to run towards them. The closer he gets he realizes that it's a woman who looks oddly familiar.
Of course, it's you.
You said that you don't need to be on suicide watch but now he's thinking otherwise. The closer he gets to you he sees that you have one hand clutching your stomach while helping a pregnant woman help an elderly lady. His eyes dart from the women to you he can't carry all 3. He takes a moment on who he's going to get first and he decides on you. He doesn't need another death on his conscience…..
While running he darts the falling debris using his webs to break them in half. The minute he reaches you he quickly guides the pregnant and the elderly woman to a secluded spot using his webs to give them a temporary shield. Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees Ben running towards him. Miguel points to the woman he’s hidden in a corner and Ben nods immediately. He then dashes over to you picking you up bridal style.
"What the hell is wrong with you? Why would you purposely run into-" A large rock begins hurtling straight at the two of you. With little to no time to react Miguel turns his back to take the blow. He grunts on impact stumbling a bit as your high-pitched scream causes his ear to ring he then continues his journey out of the fallen supermarket.
“Why would you purposefully run further into a collapsing building? Do you have a death wish?”
“I-I was trying to help-”
“Help yourself before helping others” Miguel continues to navigate his way out of the building, careful not to trip over anything. Finally making it out he places you down where the police cars and ambulances are located. He watches as you clumsily try to steady yourself holding onto his forearm for support.
Once you're steady he removes your hand from his arm getting ready to jump back into action. "If you're hurt the ambulance is right-" You let out a sharp gasp as you put both hands on your stomach and you feel a sharp pain in your abdomen.
"Oh no….I think….I think-"
"Listen I don't have time for this if you're hurt, the ambulance is right there they'll help you" Miguel rolls his eyes as he glances back to where the chaos is currently happening. He doesn't have time to babysit the longer the anomaly is here the harder it's going to be to put them back.
"No no no c-can you check for me I think something's wrong with the baby" You begin to feel your eyes fill with tears the moment you feel another sharp pain in your stomach.
"What baby are you talking about? Listen I need to go" Miguel takes a step back to observe you from head to toe. Trying to find any signs of injury. His eyes stop on your stomach that you're cradling. He finally takes notice of how big it is…
Fuck… you're pregnant?
"Spider-Man please can you check I think something's wrong….it hurts" The minute your eyes meet his breath hitches in his throat. He gets flashbacks of when his late "wife" expressed her discomfort with the baby that she was carrying. He lets out a deep sigh as he decides on what to do.
"Lyla scan her to see if anything is wrong" Lyla appears in front of him and gives him a salute. Turning around to face you she fazes in and out to get closer to you.
"Hey, pretty lady can you stand straight for me pretty please" He watches as you wipe your eyes before standing straight with one hand under your stomach. Lyla scans you from head to toe twice before going closer to you.
"You're baby is fine their right under your ribcage so that's why your feeling some pain. Your vitals are normal for someone who was just saved from a collapsing building but you need to take it easy maybe lie down for a bit"
"So they're okay?"
"They're okay" Lyla turns to Miguel and gives him a look. "Maybe you should take her-"
"You're dismissed"
"Thank you so so much I really appreciate it I-" Miguel cuts you off raising his right hand to stop you.
"I have to go….go over to the EMTs to double-check things" He watches as you nod before he runs off going back to help the others. Amidst the chaos he goes to deal with the anomaly subtly glancing over his shoulder to make sure you followed his orders.
•°~°•
It's been 5 hours since you’ve been discharged from the hospital the doctors said it was fine for you to leave. To say you were scared would be an understatement. If anything happened to your baby…..Sighing you place a gentle hand on your stomach blinking rapidly to keep your tears from falling. Crying won’t do you or your baby girl any good. Since you were already at the hospital it only made sense that you'd have your ultrasound appointment early and you found out you are having a baby girl. You cried the moment you heard the news you’ll do whatever it takes to give your baby girl the childhood you never had. A childhood filled with love and support from everyone around her.
Forcing yourself out of your thoughts you walk over to your kitchen to get yourself something to drink. Since this grocery run was a complete disaster you’ll have to do it again tomorrow. Pouring yourself a glass of water you stare straight ahead at the clock. In about 45 minutes you’ll have to get ready for work. Since you came home you have done nothing but focus on making sure you stayed calm. For your sake and the baby’s. You’ve played calming music, cleared your thoughts, and done self-care you did it all. You know the little hologram told you to rest but you need the money. Since it’s a Monday night the bar shouldn’t be that packed. Maybe you’ll take a day off on Friday so you’ll have a long weekend. You quickly wash and put away your glass cup before making your way into your bedroom to get ready.
•°~°•
You should've known that it was going to be packed tonight. It’s a full house not a free chair in sight. You're convinced that the bar has turned into a club. People are dancing 3 fights have already broken out and you are only 4 hours into your shift and you unfortunately have 5 more to go. Your curls are pulled back into a low ponytail as you feel sweat dripping down the nape of your neck down your back. You're wearing a simple black top with a low v-neck paired with a black pleated skirt. Thankfully your top is loose so your bump isn’t visible plus
An hour later your feet are aching and you’re really hungry. You need to take a break maybe sit down for a few have a drink of water or something. You stare at the clock sighing as you read the time. It’s 2 am and you won't get off till six you won't make it that long. Grabbing a rag to wipe your hands you call for another bartender to take over while you take a break.
•°~°•
Miguel doesn’t know how he allowed them to talk him into this. After a long day of doing his job instead of being at HQ Ben and a few of the spiders that were working on the supermarket mission dragged him to a bar. Out of all the places they could’ve dragged him to they chose a bar…..He’s not really a fan of loud and crowded places he never has been. He doesn’t even know why they invited him he has nothing to add to the conversation. Staring at his drink menu he reluctantly looks over the options as he decides on what to get. It isn’t until he hears a few low whistles that he peeks over his menu. His eyes almost bug out his head when he sees you.
What the hell are you doing here?
No matter how hard he tries he can’t seem to shake you off. It’s like everywhere he goes you’re there. His eyes follow your movements as you make your way to the customers. He watches as you move exceptionally fast taking orders while making drinks. You should not be working as a bartender as a pregnant woman. What in the world are you thinking? When he got back to HQ after dealing with the anomaly he asked Lyla to pull up any information she got from you when she scanned you for injuries. Not because he was curious only and only because he wanted to know who he was living next to. He found out your age, the school you attended, and the schools you attended before that. However, the most surprising information of all was that you’re married. You’ve been married for 5 years now. It’s weird because he’s never noticed a ring on your finger even now there’s still nothing he couldn’t even find out anything about your fiance. No name, no pictures, nothing. Even when he was brought inside your place against his will there were no signs of a man living with you. In fact, your place almost looked bare with only one 2 seater couch in the living room, and from the look of it, there was no TV either.
But what kind of man would allow his pregnant wife to work as a bartender? Anyone should know that you shouldn’t be on your feet for long. Well…. you're another man's responsibility another man's problem so that has nothing to do with him. He is pulled out of his thoughts when he sees you making your way over to him. Turning his attention back to the menu he doesn't even bother to respond when you ask him for his choice of drink.
When you don't hear him answer you move on to the next person which happens to be Ben.
“And what can I get you”
“You're too pretty to be working as a bartender” Miguel rolls his eyes at his comment. You tilt your head at the man before opening your mouth to speak.
“Sir what can I get you”
“A Long Island iced tea” Miguel watches as you immediately begin making his drink.
“What are you doing after this pretty, are you going straight home?”
“Yes I am….and here's your Long Island iced tea”
“Say you got a man to go back to?”
“No” You make your way past the guy to take another drink order.
“A boyfriend, husband?”
“No and double no”
“Great so you're-”
“Ben enough” You're eyes snap to meet the face of the voice and you wait patiently as they lower the drink menu. He stares Ben down in order to “tell” him to stand down. It isn't until Ben sighs and mumbles “Yes Dad” under his breath that Miguel turns his attention back to you. He stares at you for a moment before telling you his drink order.
“Whiskey” You give him a quick nod before you move to make his order. When you hand him his drink you don't bother looking at him. Miguel has to turn all his attention to the dark liquid in his glass if he doesn't he'll accidentally end up staring at you the whole time.
•°~°•
You feel a hole burning in the back of your neck. Why would someone ever stare at you like that? His gaze never wavers you feel his eyes on you as you move around the bar, take orders slide glasses down the bar, and as you ignore some men's advances. His glares make you uncomfortable you hate working when you know someone is actively judging you. Truthfully you almost dropped your glass in hand when he lowered the menu. The last time you saw him was when you accidentally thought he was going to hit you in the lobby. To say you are embarrassed would be an understatement and plus he's been rude to you since the very beginning. He's just weird….or more so you can't get a read on him.
It's now the end of your shift and you're currently wiping the bar down and washing the last of the glasses to get it ready for the next bartender. But yet he's still here you walk over to him to tell him that the bar will be closed for the next 5 hours when he slaps down a $50 dollar bill. You close up the register and walk in the back to get your bag.
When you walk back out you let out a sigh of relief when you realize he's no longer at the bar. You walk outside and begin to walk home thankfully it's only a few blocks away. You could use your car but you only use it when you have to get groceries. You want to stay active with your baby. As you walk home you hear heavy footsteps behind you it's 6 in the morning and the sun isn't up yet however you can see the sky beginning to take a lighter shade.
Once reaching the end of a sidewalk waiting for your light you subtly turn around to see if there's anyone behind you and you immediately lock eyes with your neighbor. Too embarrassed you turn straight ahead you thought he left already. He can't be following you because he's most likely coming back home like you are. Sighing you focus all your attention on walking back home. Now that you think about it you're really hungry you could kill for a toasted bagel with cream cheese right now maybe add some bacon and pickles and-
Oh, she's moving.
You pause briefly to rest a hand on your stomach. Maybe she knew that you were thinking about food.
You lower your voice whispering to your stomach. “Did you know I was thinking about food?” A few seconds later you feel her move again followed by a small kick. You laugh to yourself as you continue your journey home.
Finally making it back home you're digging in your mailbox when you notice that your neighbor is standing a few feet behind you by the lobby doors. Is he waiting for you to go upstairs? He's making you feel uneasy. Before your brain can formulate something to say to him you're already facing him and you open your mouth to speak.
“You're making me feel uncomfortable”
………..
Oh God, why in the world would you say that?
“Sorry, I-”
“I’m waiting for you to move from the mailbox” You watch as he folds his arms across his chest while sending the same glare that he was giving you earlier.
You take a nervous step back. Dammit, you shouldn't have said anything. “O-Oh I'm sorry I didn't know-”
“Of course, you didn't know…I'm keeping my distance since you thought I was going to put my hands on you the other day”
“Oh right listen about that I didn't mean to it was just a reflex and I-” He puts up a hand to prevent you from going any further.
“You don't need to explain anything to me…can you move your taking up space and I have things to do” You watch as he points to your stomach and you immediately put a hand over it. Taking up space? You're not even that big yet….Eager to get out of there you immediately close your mailbox making sure to grab your keys as you start your journey upstairs wishing him a goodnight. Is it too early to say you hate your neighbor?
Since this is a new story I know some people might not want to be tagged anymore. So feel free to ask to get removed! If you would like to be removed from the tag list say "Remove" If you'd like to stay on it say "Stay" and if you'd like to be added say "Yes"
As always thank you so so much for reading I hope you guys like this one<3333
I love you so very much, and I’ll be watching you from your window. (Inside joke)
How about… cowboy!Miggy spectating a gal and her pals, she’s challenged to ride one of those rodeo bulls by her friends and fell like, three seconds in. Obvi she failed, so she has to go get another round of shots for her friends. So he took the opportunity to offer some lessons with the cowboy himself😇
EL TORO 🐂
✭ 18+ Cowboy! Miguel O’Hara x fem! Reader ✭
✭ summary: losing a bet with your best friends, you buy drinks after failing to stay on a mechanical bull for eight seconds, but before you buy another round of drinks, a local cowboy helps you…
✭ content warning: sexual innuendos, Miguel is a little unhinged, dry humping, grinding, cumplay (?), cum-eating (?), semi-exhibitionism, hook-up with a stranger, and alcohol is mentioned. VIEWER'S DISCRETION IS ADVISED.
✭ word count: +1.8k words
✭ a/n: AUGHHHH cowboy! Miguel has me in a chokehold omfg. but here you go, pookie! thank you for your undying support and love! Your wish has been granted 💋 (if there are flaws, I apologize in advance 🩷)
MATURE CONTENT MDNI | MINORS WHO INTERACT WILL BE BLOCKED
Orange opaque lights make up the dimly lit bar. Locals from around were either at a table, drinking away from those green beer bottles you grew familiar with ever since you were younger, or seeing your uncles consume those bottles at a baptism or a wedding banquet. Or you saw the occasional burnt middle-aged man sitting at the island counter, rambling to the bartender about his day, complaining about his cattle or the weather. But for you, you came to the bar unwillingly, as your best friends insisted that you liven up the environment.
But really, it was a pathetic excuse to get you out of your grandparent's bungalow home and to meet someone.
・º♢
"Come on! It'll be fun!" Xina urges, flashing her signature smug smile that always appears when she's up to something mischievous. It was always the same arrogant look she did whenever y'all were kids when she got extra chips or a cookie from her pantry closet. Hell, it was the same look your other friends gave you whenever your grandmother or grandfather offered them fresh fruits from their farm.
"No," you quickly retort, sipping your cocktail. "Please!" MJ pleads, grasping your wrists and seemingly ready to kneel. "PLEASE!" Xina soon exclaims, joining MJ to cause a scene with those around you.
"Xina, MJ…!"
"PLEASE!" They draw out the last syllable together, their voice taking on a childish tone reminiscent of when they were eight years old, fleeing from a honey bee or spider. "Okay! Okay..." You groan out, shaking your head in defeat.
"Yes!" Xina pumps her fist in victory before removing your fruity margarita from your hands and placing it on the table. "Now get on! And if you don't last eight seconds, you pay for our next round of drinks!" A low groan emerges from the back of your throat like alcohol stinging your esophagus, ready to escape. But your body, unfortunately, didn't want to do that for you so you could weasel out of the bet. You look back to see MJ at y'all's table, keeping an eye on the drinks while looking at Xina guide (dragging) you across the bar.
Your shoes squeak against the wooden floors as you get pushed to the mechanical bull area. "Just stay on there for eight seconds, and you don't have to pay for our round of shots." You and Xina passed through the semi-packed bar, occasionally brushing shoulders from a couple of guests in the bar. But one character caught your attention, nearly knocking you off your feet.
His russet brown eyes burned into your soul while his cowboy hat shielded the glisten in his eyes, giving him a dead look by any bystander who dared to make eye contact with him. His eyes match yours, lingering on your orbs. The prolonged millisecond of eye contact seized when he smirked, his eyes lingering on you and you only.
His hands, weathered and rugged, bore the marks of hard work - dry, with occasional scars and scratches, yet exuding strength. They were the hands of a hard-working man, capturing attention as much as his eyes did, capturing attention as much as his eyes did. His shirt was unbuttoned, clearly showing a bit of his chest and hair peppered. Oh, how it would feel to be held in those strong hands... Or how his hands would hold onto your hips while bouncing on his dick—
"C'mon! It's your turn to get on!" Xina urges, directing your attention away from the man and to your inevitable end of the night- falling off a mechanical bull within three seconds.
/
You sit at your table, hair somewhat touseled about while you order the next round of drinks for you and your rowdy group of friends. You looked at the half-assed served shot glass and glared at your best friends as they took their shots. With a sigh of defeat, you walk to the bar counter and take a seat on the wooden stool, covering your face and hiding away the embarrassment.
You settled onto the bar counter, absently running your finger along the smooth rim of your shot glass. A sense of intrusion picked at your gut as you felt someone trespassing on your personal space. Glancing to your left, you saw the familiar figure of the man from earlier, seated a few stools away. Your eyes dart back to the tiny glass in your hands, playing with it.
"You couldn't last eight seconds."
That sounded more evocative than it had to.
"Excuse me?"
"3.4 seconds." He adds, not acknowledging the rhetorical question you spat out. "You're those women having to give up straddling like how a car needs an oil change."
What the—
"What does this have to do with anything?"
"You lack balance, sweetheart. And movement." He lifts his shot glass, calling the bartender to refill his shot glass. "It’s straightforward."
"Oh yeah, since you seem to know everything about it, give me some constructive criticism then." You reiterate, knowing that this man was going to play the smartass card with you by sharing information that is useless or already known by the public.
"You’re not engaging your core, and you don't have any balance on your hips." He sighs before mumbling about city folk and getting off his seat. "C’mere." He waved his hand over, ushering you to get close. You didn't know if it was your being an actual dumbass, but you got off your seat and made your way over.
"M’kay," He sighs before getting off his seat and touching your hips. “It's all here, sweetheart. You have to move with the bull; it's called inertia," His hand rests on your hips and squeezes that specific area. "Always move in the opposite direction of the mechanical bull."
"If the bull moves forward, you move back. And if the bull moves back…?"
"I move forward?"
He nods before patting your tummy. "And engage your core a bit. You have abs under there, sweetheart."
His words of advice continue but they muffled out while taking note of his hand resting against your soft stomach, feeling the heat of his palm.
You take note of his words and stop. "Wait, how do you know how to do this?"
"Take it or leave it." He mumbles before he takes his shot and slams the shot glass down. "Actually," He clears his throat and sighs. "Tell them you want to redeem yourself, then tell your friend, the one who dared you to ride the bull, to buy the bill, and I owe you a drink if you make it past eight seconds."
"And if you don't, you owe me a drink."
He removes his hands from your soft stomach and sits back on the stool. "It’s your decision, sweetheart."
You think momentarily, considering the options he placed on the table. The idea of not having to pay a tab and getting a free drink sounded satisfying.
"Will you show me how?"
"Sure, why not?"
/
Sitting on his lap in the darkest, dingiest parts of the bar was not in the plans, but your pigheadedness said otherwise. You straddle down on his lap, resting your hands on his shoulders. "Keep your balance, sweetheart." His right hand pats on your hip before bucking his hips against yours, earning a low groan from him.
"Engage your core and move in the opposite direction of me." His warm breath fans your face before he bucks his hips once again to your clothed sex. A soft mewl escapes your lips, feeling his clothed bulge against your clothed entrance.
"You can do it, c’mon…”
You pathetically moved against his aching bulge, pushing your moist gusset against his denim jeans. "There we go, move your hips to gain balance, move with me."
His dick twitched underneath you, pushing up to be free from its constraints. You slowly gyrated down, bucking your hips against his movement, creating a comfortable tempo.
A choked groan verberates your chest, sending the sensation to Miguel, earning a low moan from the man. "C'mon, keep it up." He jerks his bulge upwards, finally finding its way in between your clothed folds. You wailed, feeling his length now against your clothed clit, rubbing against the sensitive bud slowly and deliciously. You could sense the arousal trickling down to your soaked gusset and gathering the slick arousal in the cloth. "You can do it."
You patted his shoulder and took in deep breaths.
"Try again." His usual staid words slowly evolved into breathy whimpers. Miguel's words of affirmation slowly died, becoming breathy moans and grunts. The typical demands slowly turned into begging as you continued to push downwards, feeding the desires you two desperately wanted.
"Muneca..." He rasps out before you see his hands scramble down to his belt.
The sound of his belt clinking was enough of an indicator, but you knew what was next. The sound, let alone left you salivating with anticipation.
"Grind on the length."
Oh... Oh.
Glancing down, your eyes widen at the sight. Sure, he was pushing seven inches but the girth... With your left hand, you move the gusset of your underwear to the side and slowly guide your aching core down to his length, slowly enveloping his length into your soaked folds.
A low groan verberates your chest cavity, soaking the length of your slick, sticky arousal. The slippery sensation of your clit gliding down Miguel’s length, creating delicious friction.
"C’mon, move your hips."
Your body went on autopilot on that demand, relying on your slick arousal to move fluidly on his length. "You're a fast learner, aren't you?" He groans out quietly, still holding onto your hips.
Soft pants and groans filled the small space and evolved into loud guttural groans from both of y'all.
"Sweetheart, slow down a bit." His breathy request fell on deaf ears before you did as he demanded. "You're humping me like I'm your pillow." He groans out before he adjusts you off his length, feeling the slick linger onto his skin.
He takes his pointer and middle finger, gathers the slick off his length, and places said fingers at the bottom plush of your lips, lightly tapping them, almost asking for permission. "Seems like you understand what I say," He pats your rear lovingly with his free hand before you suckle on his fingers, tasting the mess you left behind. He hums while you clean the pads of his fingers clean.
"Now, ride the bull for me." He demands.
/
The walk back to the lively scenery returned you to your senses as you prepared to confront your little group of friends. The conversation jumped about like crickets hopping around a long grassy field. It felt like there was no point in being driven before you challenged them against their better judgment and bet. Xina's lips pursed straight, and she nodded to her other girlfriends. The group looked at each other momentarily and caved in, just to see themselves embarrass themselves for the second time that night.
But it wasn't going to happen again...
Straddling down on the pseudo-bull, you looked out to the semi-lively bar, seeing your friends watching from afar and your 'mentor' looking at you while taking a shot. With a raise of his brow and tipping his cowboy hat, a surge of content rested in your belly.
summary: neteyam sully was the next olo'eyktan and for years had been focused on his training and his responsibilities only. he had never accounted for you to become one of them. when you got your avatar body and ended up in the forest alone, being brought to the village and offered to be taught the ways of the people wasn't what you expected. let alone it being neteyam, future olo'eyktan becoming your teacher.
pairings: neteyam x avatar!reader (aged up)
word count: 97,582 (completed: 02/01/23)
warnings/notes: enemies to lovers trope, slow burn, angst, swearing, mention of child abandonment, mention of sky people, mention of death, lo'ak x avatar!reader (if you squint), asshole!neteyam/protective!neteyam, smut in later chapters
masterlist | requests are currently open for now
please keep in mind that all characters in my stories are always 18+, and although I can't monitor who reads my work, if you are not 18+ I advise that you do not engage in my page or stories.
I. snga’itseng — just the beginning
II. the ways of the na'vi
III. the outsider
IV. iknimaya
V. na’viyä hapxì — one of the people
VI. as the world caves in
VII. one of us
VIII. the deepest sighs, the frankest shadows
one of us spotify playlist - any songs you might think fit for the series? lmk so I can add them.
summary: Being the oldest daughter of the Olo'eytkan and the tsakarem meant you had a lot of weight on your shoulders. You had to be perfect, well-behaved and set an example for your clan, so sneaking out wasn't exactly checking any of those boxes. You also had to pick a mate and honestly, you couldn't think of anything worse– and to you, he was no exception.
word count: 18.5k so far
themes: fluff, angst, warrior!reader, tsakarem!reader, (no use of y/n)
warnings: mentions of guns, weapons (bow, staff, spear, blade, etc.), occasional swearing, mentions of injury, blood, etc.
a/n: this series is still in the works! i already know how the story will progress but please feel free to let me know your thoughts <3
main masterlist | guidelines | series playlist
chapters
i. paradigm
now playing... home by good neighbours
ii. paradise
now playing... saturn by sza
iii. fare well
now playing... birds of a feather by billie eilish
iv. divine
now playing... learning 037 by sandy crow
v. bad idea
now playing... wait a minute! by willow
summary as children, you and rafe were best friends, but then tragedy suddenly struck his family and he shut everybody out. years later, you need his help when a pushy ex-boyfriend won’t leave you alone. rafe is perfect for the job because everybody’s afraid of him. except for you.
content warnings stalker ex, violence, smut, substance abuse, death and mourning of parent
» masterlist
· · ── ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ── · ·
You can hear gentle taps on the window behind you. At some point since you got back from the marina, it must’ve started raining. You’ve been too absorbed in your time with Rafe to notice until now.
Even though you’re trying to process what he just said, your instinct is to hope for his sake that it doesn’t storm. Because your instinct has always been to worry about him. His was always to avoid you. And now, if you actually heard him right, you know the real reason why.
You’re suspended in time as you stand in front of him in your kitchen, trying to silently compel him to look at you again. But his eyes are focused on the floor.
You were just upstairs, touching in the most intimate way, giving each other the best kind of pleasure. Now, in a matter of a minute, a chasm has opened up between you again. Rafe’s chest is rising and falling faster with every second that passes.
“What’d you just say?” you ask.
“I was…” Rafe shuffles in place, his temples beginning to throb. “Fuck. I was never going to tell you.”
“What do you mean because of me?” you echo his words, your legs weakening.
Hearing your voice sound so faint, a harsh contrast from the soothing, careful way you always speak to him, makes his chest tighten.
“Goddamn it,” Rafe mutters. “Why’d you have to push me to talk when I - I said I didn’t want to talk?”
His feet carry him to the other end of the counter just to create some distance. He figures it should be easy because for so long, it’s been second nature for him stay away from you. But he hates that he can’t touch you right now. This moment is too tense, the words he said too ugly.
Rafe finally meets your gaze. Every other time he thought you looked sad or scared or broken is nothing compared to the way your face is knitted in misery right now.
His darkest secret is out. He told himself he’d take it to the grave. But he just changed everything. He shoved a dagger into the heart of the only person who truly cares about him. And there’s no undoing it.
“What do you mean because of me?” you repeat.
Rafe swallows the lump in his throat. He knew you were wrong; he’s not good like you said he is. This proves it. He’s sick. There’s something wrong with him because a good person wouldn’t blurt what he just said out, no matter how much pressure they were under.
He nervously grips the edge of the counter.
“Rafe,” you urge. His head hangs low.
“It was right before your birthday,” he mutters. “Do you remember?”
“Of course I-” You inhale a sharp breath. “Of course I remember.”
After what happened, you cancelled your eleventh birthday party. You didn’t want to celebrate anything for years afterwards.
“Did that have… something to do with it?” you ask.
Rafe’s body goes cold. It had everything to do with it.
He begged his mother to go. She told him there were warnings on tv about a storm and that they could go the next day, that there was time, but he had to be such a brat about it that she finally agreed. She always gave into him.
“You never stopped talking about how excited you were for it,” he says, “and I wanted to get you something great and I made her take me. And you…”
His gaze hardens. This was supposed to stay locked inside him forever. At some point, behind his back, you got the key.
Your heart is in a vice. You’re waiting for him to say this is a cruel joke.
“You know what?” he huffs. “I don’t even remember what I was so determined to get you. I just remember…”
He pinches the bridge of his nose, a short, boyish whine escaping his mouth as he hears the sound of the tires skidding in his mind, over and over again. They didn’t even make it to the store.
You want to rush to him. To hold him. To let him dampen your shirt with his tears again. But you can’t. You’re frozen.
This is why Rafe never wanted you in his life. You’re not just a reminder. It was never that simple. You’re the reason for his suffering. And you can touch him and laugh with him and kiss him as many times as you want, but you’re sure he’ll never see past it.
He doesn’t have to tell you why he kept this from you. It’s clear. He didn’t want to hurt you. You thought he was being cruel all these years, but he was protecting both of you from this very moment.
You imagine the boy you knew, in the car, watching his world end because he wanted to be a good best friend to you. He was always sweet. Always doing what he could to show the people he loved that he loved them. And he paid for it in the worst way.
You’re crashing into a painful realization, as if the lights were just turned on, burning your eyes after you’d been sitting in the dark for years.
“I…” you begin. But you’re weak. Speechless. You hold the back of a chair at the kitchen table for stability.
For once, you’re not touching Rafe to comfort him as he cries. On top of the shame and frustration and guilt he’s feeling, a sense of loneliness to sinks into him. He doesn’t know if he’d push you away if you came to him. But you’re not even going to try?
The sharp, comfortable feeling of anger overshadows it all. Like always. Being mad is the most familiar state for him to be in. Especially when it’s himself he’s angry at.
“And I just kept asking until she agreed to take me,” he mutters.
You can hear it in his voice that he blames himself, too. And if there’s anything you can do for him, it’s take away his pain. It’s what you’ve wanted to do for him for so long.
Guilt rips you into you. A hot tear rolls over your cheek. If Rafe has to blame you, if it’s defence mechanism, his way to cope, you can live with being the bad guy in his story. Because you love him. You’re afraid you always will.
Your phone rings in your pocket, blaring in your kitchen. You’ve had it on loud so you couldn’t miss a call from your parents just in case.
You clumsily rush to grab it and turn the sound off. You hang up before even looking at who’s calling.
“Who is it?” he asks.
“It doesn’t matter,” you say.
“Who is it?” he says more sternly.
You look at the notification. Your lawyer. You called her after the cops found the tracker on your car to update her. You’re sure you discussed everything you needed to. What’s she doing calling at almost nine at night?
“My lawyer,” you say.
“Call her back,” he orders.
“I can do it later.”
Rafe only says your name, his mouth a firm line. You hate that he’s talking to you like this again, as if he’s mad at you for existing around him.
But he’s right. She might have some important news. Your hands are shaking as you tap on your screen to call your lawyer back on speakerphone. She answers after the first ring.
“Sorry I called so late, but I wanted to let you know,” she says, “I hounded the police and I finally just got confirmation that they took Ty into custody.”
“He was arrested?” you say. You meet Rafe’s eyes. In the midst of all this, for a second, he forgot you’ve been living in your own horror.
“Yes,” she replies. “He’s been charged with the unlawful installation of a tracking device. They traced it back to him. They don’t always arrest for a misdemeanor, but I think the fact that you already had an order out against him helped.”
“Okay,” you breathe. “Thank you.”
“Again, I’m so sorry you’re going through this,” she says. “You did the right thing fighting back. I wanted to keep you updated. Call me if you have any questions. Have a good night.”
“Thank you,” you say. “You, too.”
You hang up the phone and realize you don’t even feel a morsel of relief that Ty has been arrested. Because Rafe just dropped something so earth-shattering on you that you’re not sure you’ll ever be the same again.
You don’t even discuss the call you both just heard. You stick to your private vow. You have to. He can blame you. He can hate you. He can feel whatever he wants if it’ll ease his suffering.
“You’re right,” you say quietly. You sit down, unable to hold yourself up any longer. “You’re right. You just wanted to be a good friend. It’s my fault. I’m so sorry.”
It doesn’t feel entirely dishonest taking the blame. They were on the freeway because of you. If you and Rafe never became friends, if you never fell into his life, he’d still have a mother.
His words from earlier when this all started ring in your head. We can’t do this. This conversation? Or everything?
“It’s always going to be hard for you to be around me, isn’t it?” you ask, desperate for the clarity. Because if it’s true, it’s better you know now.
Just this morning, he said you were friends again. Then in your room, you did something people who are much more than just friends do. And now, you might be doomed to going back to being nothing. Unless he denies it. Again, hope finds its way in your heart like it always does when it comes to him.
Rafe’s stare is distant. He grips the countertop even tighter.
“I don’t know,” he says. Truthfully, he exists in two places at once when he’s with you. He feels both peace and disarray. Both bitter and sweet.
You nod slowly, standing on wobbly knees to find a paper towel to wipe your tears away with. You stand by the sink with your back to him, rubbing it beneath your eyes.
I don’t know. It’s the worst answer he could give you. At least if he gave a definitive yes or no, you’d know what the future will look like. But I don’t know is what keeps hope alive, and you know by now the pain that hope can bring.
“I’m so sorry,” you repeat, muffled. “If you never met me…”
You think back to sitting next to him in the police station waiting room. He wrote in your birthday on that form without hesitation. He didn’t even need to think about it. And you know now it’s because he’s doomed to remember that date forever.
“You don’t have to stay here,” you finally say. “You can go home. I get it. I get why you never wanted to talk to me.”
You let out a shaky sigh, regretting the years you spent trying to reconnect with him. You were unknowingly hurting him every time.
The guilt sitting on your heart is so heavy that you’re sure it’ll never leave you. While you thought he kept you at a distance because of grief, because of the role you played in reminding him, you realize that was only scratching the surface.
Rafe’s eyes are trained on you on the other side of the room, watching your body tremble.
“I’m staying,” he says resolutely. You turn to look at him from across the kitchen. His eyes gleam with tears.
“He was arrested,” you reply. “He can’t hurt me.”
Rafe studies you. You look how you did the night this all started, when you rushed to him, asking him to pretend to be your boyfriend.
“But you’re still scared,” he says.
“I think I’ll be scared for a while,” you admit. Ty is still out there. Even behind bars, he’s someone plotting to own you. You try to push past the fear for Rafe’s sake. “But he can’t hurt me.”
“I told you that I’m staying with you until your parents get back,” Rafe says.
You feel like you’re spiralling. You know he kept this from you for a noble reason, but the realization that he always blamed you feels like it’s chipping away at you by the second.
“It’s okay,” you say. “Your job is done. You don’t have to do this anymore.”
“Yes, I do,” Rafe counters. You grimace. He’s being so stubborn. The rack of guilt, shock, and confusion has your mind racing.
“Why did we do… what we did upstairs?” you ask. “Why did you say you felt something for me?”
Rafe exhales slowly. Kissing and touching you like that was euphoric. He wants that feeling, again and again, without the ugliness of your shared history following both of you.
“Because I do,” he answers honestly. You twist your lips in sadness.
“You do,” you say, “but you don’t want me in your life?”
Rafe’s quiet, his expression unreadable. Suddenly, you feel selfish and ashamed to be confronting him about this after he revealed something so painful.
“Forget it. I’m sorry,” you say. You toss the damp paper towel in the trash. “If you want to stay, you can. But if you want to go, I get it. I’ll be in my room.”
You start to tread out of the kitchen, a sniffling mess at this point. You feel worse than ever for pestering him with your questions after he opened up to you.
You’re sure you’ve both spent more time crying than smiling since you tumbled into each other’s lives again. Maybe it’s best for both of you to be nothing. It’s not what your heart wants, but being together seems to bring you both more pain than happiness.
You turn, figuring this may be your only chance to tell him how sorry you are. If tonight’s your last night together and you go back to being strangers after this, you need him to know.
“I know nothing I say or do can make it better, but I’m so sorry for everything you went through. And I’m so sorry I was the reason for it,” you say, meeting his gaze from across the room. “I never stopped missing you. But I get it. We don’t have to be friends or… be anything. We’ll go back to how it was. This time, I won’t keep bothering you.”
Rafe watches you leave. The weight in the pit of his stomach gets a million times heavier. He would do anything to take back telling you the truth.
You’re curled up in a ball under your blanket, your throat growing sore from crying. You tried to break this arrangement with Rafe off the day he told you that you were always going to remind him of what happened. You told him all you do is hurt each other.
But he pushed. He said he wanted to take care of you. You’re almost angry at him for not letting you end it then. But as painful as the truth he dropped on you tonight is, you’re glad you know.
You’d rather take the blame for him. You’d rather never have to wonder what he meant when he said you did do something wrong, but not on purpose.
But you are angry at him for kissing you. For touching you. It gave him another piece of your heart that you can never get back.
Rafe is still hunched over in the kitchen. He fucked up. You’re upstairs, devastated, because of him. Since this started, you’ve been so worried about bothering him. You said he tolerates you. And he put so much effort into making sure you didn’t feel like a burden, but he just undid it all.
The way you apologized was like you were saying sorry for existing. Whatever he had left of a heart had been wrung out. He needs a distraction. But you can’t give it to him, because it’s you he needs the distraction from.
You eventually get to a point where you can’t cry anymore. You’re numb. You spend every passing minute hoping Rafe will come into your room to try to convince you that you can make each other happy.
But he doesn’t. You fall asleep alone.
A loud bang wakes you up. Your instinct tells you it’s Ty. A few seconds later, consciousness gets a hold of you and you remember your phone call. He’s in police custody. He can’t be here.
You sit up in the dark. Another bang outside. It’s still raining but the noises aren’t rolls of thunder like a few nights ago.
Rafe didn’t leave. If he did, he would’ve needed you to disarm the security system. You check the time. It’s nearing three in the morning.
Another thud. At this point, you’re scared. You need to find him.
You’re already panting when you reach the guest room. You knock on the ajar door.
“Rafe?” you mumble.
To your relief, you hear his tired hmm? from the other side of the door.
“I keep hearing noises from outside,” you say. “I think someone might be out there.”
The bed squeaks with his weight shifting and a moment later, you hear the unmistakable sound of him pulling out and pushing in the magazine of his gun. It adds yet another layer of fear onto you.
“Where?” Rafe asks as he steps out of the room.
You guide him in the dark to the window by your bed. You watch him lean to look out the glass, the gun in his hand.
“It can’t be him, right?” you finally say with a thin voice.
Rafe’s jaw tightens. He doesn’t want to say what’s been turning in his head since you got the call from the lawyer. He didn’t want to scare you. But it’s exactly why he stayed.
“Rafe?” you say.
“Someone could’ve bailed him out,” he finally replies.
Your heart is in your throat. The stress of tonight made you completely forget about that possibility. If Ty got bail, of course his wealthy family would pay it. You feel stupid for urging Rafe to leave. And grateful that he didn’t.
“Well, if he - if he did, wouldn’t the police make sure he doesn’t try to get to me?” you ask.
“The police are idiots,” Rafe says flatly, still angry over how passively they treated you when you filed the restraining order, how thoughtless they were to not check your belongings.
“If he’s trying to get in,” you say shakily, “the alarm will go off. It automatically alerts the cops if it isn’t turned off within a minute. Please, if you… have to shoot, do it just to stop him. Don’t kill him.”
The thought of putting Rafe through watching someone else lose their life is too much for you.
He turns to look at you, barely making out your features in the moonlight shining into your room. How could possibly want to spare the life of someone so evil?
“He’s not worth it,” you say. “I don’t want it weighing on you for the rest of your life.”
Rafe looks at you in awe. Again, you put him first. In this moment, where you’re surely terrified, you’re worrying about him carrying the weight of taking someone’s life. Because he already carries that weight for his mother. And tonight, he put that weight on you, too.
“Okay,” he says. “But if he tries to hurt you, I don’t know how I’ll control myself.”
A deafening, chilling smash of glass echoes from downstairs. The shrill security alarm starts blaring. Your hand finds the crook of Rafe’s elbow as your entire body stiffens.
“Stay here,” Rafe says. “Don’t come out.”
“Be careful,” you stammer. “I’m calling 911 just to be sure.” You watch him leave as you grab your phone to report a break-in, giving the operator your address.
A few seconds later, the security system stops ringing. It’s been shut off. And you know it wasn’t Rafe who did it.
Rafe reaches the bottom of the stairs, gun pointed ahead in the dark. His eyes land on Ty, standing by the door, his hand on the security panel.
“Get the fuck out or I swear to God, I’ll shoot you,” Rafe threatens.
“I just want to talk to her,” he replies tersely.
“Get out,” Rafe repeats.
You can make out muffled conversation. You stand by your door, opening it an inch to hear what’s happening downstairs.
“Do you have any idea what I’ve been through for her? Where is she?”
It’s Ty. He actually did it. He actually found a way to get to you again. Rafe is the only thing keeping him from you right now. You feel like you could throw up from how scared you are.
“You have five seconds to leave,” Rafe says. Your ex sputters a laugh.
“Or what?” Ty reaches below the hem of his shirt. “You think you’re the only one with a gun?”
Your blood runs cold. Rafe is facing a maniac you’re sure wouldn’t hesitate to kill him. This could end in someone getting shot. Someone could die here tonight. And if it’s Rafe, you won’t be able to live with yourself.
It’s a crazy, desperate idea, but you’re confident you can manipulate Ty. You know him well. You know what he wants to hear. He’d do anything to think he can have you again. And you need to buy time before the police get here.
“Put it down,” Rafe warns.
“Is this gonna be a game of chicken?” Ty laughs again, his gun gleaming in his hand.
Your entire body is tense as you step out of your room.
“Ty?” you call out, slowly coming down the stairs. Rafe stiffens.
“I told you to not to come out,” Rafe says sternly, his eyes still on your ex.
“These are the lengths I have to go to for you, huh?” Ty calls up to you. “Just to get you to talk to me?”
It’s still dark in your home, both men just murky figures.
“I’m turning on the light,” you say, knowing that surprising Ty won’t do any good.
You reach the bottom of the staircase, standing behind Rafe, and flip the switch, washing the entrance of your home in bright lighting.
You have to stifle your gasp when you see Ty. His face is swollen from Rafe beating him up last night. His clothes are muddy from creeping around your home in the rain, finding a way in. He must have jumped the gate.
The realization that he knows the security code crashes into you. He’s surely seen you punch it in from his visits back when he was your boyfriend. You never thought he’d be committing it to memory.
This whole time, he knew it. Something you thought was protecting you wasn’t. You wish you’d thought to change the code after the break-up.
“Go back upstairs,” Rafe says, his teeth gritted.
You place a hand on Rafe’s back, out of Ty’s sight.
“Let’s talk,” you say to Ty. “Put the gun down and let’s talk.”
“You know the cops came to my house and arrested me in front of my parents?” Ty says, looking utterly unhinged. “Why the fuck did you do that to me?“
His gun is still aimed in your direction, but it’s a little lower in his shaky hand. You’re getting somewhere.
“I’m so sorry. I was scared,” you tell him.
“And you let this asshole,” Ty says, eyes darting to Rafe, “hurt me. You just fucking watched him punch me and punch me over and over and then you left. You left with him.”
“I’d do it again,” Rafe mutters. He sees pure red.
“Hey,” you whisper to him. You force your anxiety away, knowing you need to calm Ty down, not provoke him.
You drop your hand and walk past Rafe, who harshly says your name. His fingers wrap around your wrist, pulling you back. You look at him.
“Stop,” Rafe mutters to you, still holding out his gun at Ty. “Go upstairs. I’m handling this.”
“I won’t let you hurt him,” you say, loud for Ty to hear. “I don’t want you anymore.”
Rafe knows you’re trying to trick Ty to avoid anything horrible happening here tonight, but your words make everything in him twist in pain.
You pull away and approach Ty, your heart drumming against your chest. You meet his wide, frantic eyes.
“Hey,” you say softly, walking towards him. “You were right. He was just a rebound. You know me better than anybody.”
“You’re lying,” Ty mutters. But he’s lowering his gun. “You’re just a liar.”
“Ty,” you say, mustering up forced affection. You reach him, standing mere inches away. His gun is at his side now. The thought of him raising his hand again is petrifying.
“I was scared,” you continue, “but now I can see how much you care about me. It’s why I came downstairs. I heard your voice and I realized how much I miss you.”
“I just wanted to talk to you,” he says. “This whole time. And what’d you do? You got a new boyfriend. You called the cops. I - I love you. I gave you everything.”
His eyes are sharp. Poisonous. He genuinely thinks he’s done nothing wrong. To him, tracking you and taking photos of you and forcing contact with you was okay. He wants you as an object to possess. Not as a person.
“I know. Nobody can love me like you do,” you whisper, echoing the words he screamed at you when you broke up with him. “I love you. I’m sorry it took me so long to realize it. I’ve always been stupid, right?”
It’s taking everything in Rafe not to charge at Ty. If he makes one wrong move, he doesn’t think he can restrain himself from putting a bullet through his chest.
Rafe watches your hand drag down Ty’s arm and he grimaces, sure you’re rattled with fear.
“Can you put this down?” you ask, your hand stopping at his, cupping the gun. “I want you to hold me like you used to.”
“You do?” Ty says, his anger slowly disappearing from his face. Relief pools through you.
“Of course,” you reply. Your hand is shaking as you find the barrel of his gun, slowly pulling at it. “I need you. I make bad decisions when I’m not with you.”
“Yeah, you do,” Ty says, a desperate grin spreading on his face. “You finally fucking get it.”
You force a smile at him, breathing out slowly as you take the gun out of his grip.
Rafe watches with relief when he sees you holding Ty’s gun at your back.
It’s terrifying facing him, but at least there’s no gun pointed at Rafe right now. It dawns on you just how much you love him. You came down here simply to try to keep him safe. To keep him from having someone’s blood on his hands. You approached someone you’ve been running from. You put your own life in danger. Willingly.
You pull back, forcing another smile as you gaze up at Ty.
“We’re getting out of here,” Ty orders.
You look up at him, hoping he doesn’t see the fear in your eyes. There’s no way you’re going anywhere with him. You know you have a second, maybe two, to get away from him. And you can only hope it’s enough.
“Let me get my shoes,” you say, trying to laugh as if you’re excited, as if you’re endeared by him.
You move as fast as you can, kneeling to pick the gun up off the floor and rushing back towards Rafe.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Ty spits behind you.
Rafe has never been more relieved in his life than when you reach him, cowering behind him, Ty’s gun in your hands.
Maybe you should use it, but you can’t fathom trusting your aim when you’re shaking like this.
“You lying bitch!” Ty shouts, striding forward.
“One more step!” Rafe warns louder.
Ty doesn’t listen.
“Look away,” Rafe mutters to you. You curl up behind him, making yourself small, shutting your eyes.
The gunshot pierces the air, echoing through the foyer, making you quiver. You want to wake up. Because this has to be a nightmare. This can’t be real.
You hear Ty moaning in pain. Your eyes are still shut when sirens blare in the distance.
It’s a blur. People rush in. The door is left open, rain drumming on the pavement. You hear another hard thud and you realize you dropped the gun that was in your hands.
You feel Rafe turn and he’s saying something to you, but you can’t understand it. A shiny, yellow badge gleams in the light.
“…happened tonight?” a stranger asks.
“Can’t you do this another time?” Rafe mutters, irritated.
“We need a statement.” You realize the police officer is talking to you, a notepad in his hand. You meet his eyes.
“What?” you breathe.
Rafe looks down at you with furrowed brows, worried about you and pissed off that you’re being questioned.
“Can you tell me what happened tonight?” the cop says.
“Her ex broke in,” Rafe says. “He had a gun. You guys arrested him, then let him go. There’s your statement.”
The police officer sighs, keeping his eye on you.
“Have you been physically harmed?” the cops says.
You find the strength to shake your head no.
“Do you have somewhere else to sleep tonight?” he asks.
“Yes,” Rafe answers for you. “It’s better she’s not here in case you morons let him out again, right?”
The cop shakes his head in frustration, but seems to decide that not engaging with Rafe’s angry sarcasm is the better choice.
“We’ll be in touch, miss,” he says. He turns all his attention to Rafe. “Can you answer some questions?”
“Fine,” he mutters, then looks to you. “You wanna go pack?”
All you can hear is your own quick breathing as you pack an overnight bag. You’re trembling, dropping things, moving as if you’re going to be late for something.
Your house is a crime scene now. You still don’t know what happened with Ty. You couldn’t look.
It’s a few minutes past four a.m. when you reach Tannyhill. You and Rafe haven’t said anything to each other since the cops left.
The enormous house is dark and quiet as you trail him up the stairs. You know it’s irrational, but still, you fear Ty will pop out from behind a corner and try to finish the job.
Even after your harsh conversation earlier tonight, you hope Rafe will let you sleep in his bedroom. You stop in the upstairs hallway, unsure of what to do next, but his hand finds yours, leading you, making the decision for you.
Rafe’s bedsheets smells just like him, warm and strong and comforting. You’re turned on your side, your back to him, as he settles behind you.
Now that you’re lying down, you realize just how hard you’re shaking. Your body is still trying to catch up with your mind.
Rafe notices.
“It’s over,” he says, voice low. “You’re alright.”
You nod, exhaling once you feel his hand rest on your back. His fingers gently run back and forth between your shoulder blades. You find your words, finally.
“I know you had it under control,” you whisper, “but I couldn’t just sit in my room and do nothing. I was scared of him but I was more scared he’d hurt you and I knew I could trick him and I know you’re mad at me-”
“I’m not…” Rafe interrupts with a sigh. “I’m not mad at you.”
He’s mad at how unfair everything is. And at himself. He should have never told you they were in the car because of you. The conversation with you in your kitchen is another memory he knows will haunt him.
You nuzzle into Rafe’s pillow. He’s still slowly stroking your back, granting you a sense of safety.
“Listen, I won’t lie. I wish you never came downstairs,” he admits. It killed him seeing you face someone who’s been torturing you. “I didn’t know what he was gonna do. But you… you knew how to deal with him. I… Thank you. You didn’t have to do it for me.”
Your heart is still pounding. Of course you had to do it for him. You’d do anything for him.
“You’ve been looking out for me,” you say quietly. “I wanted to finally return the favor.”
Rafe chews on his lip. He’s pretty sure you take care of him more than he does you.
“What happened?” you ask. “Did you…”
“Got him in the leg,” Rafe says. “They arrested him. Again.” He would’ve killed him if you gave him your blessing to. He knows that for sure.
You nod. Your eyelids start to flutter shut. He keeps rubbing your back until he’s sure you’re asleep.
For once, you start your day next to Rafe. He didn’t leave you to wake up alone this time. He’s pressed up behind you, his arm draped over you, his hand over yours. You feel his chest rising and falling against your back.
The room is washed in orange sunlight. The clock on his nightstand tells you it’s almost noon.
You don’t know what to do from here. You promised Rafe that after this ended, you’d stop bothering him. And he didn’t tell you not to.
You look down at his hand on top of yours. Your eyes trail over his fingers, once again thinking about everything he’s done for you. He’s kept you safe, taken on responsibilities for you, given you pleasure.
Minutes later, Rafe shuffles behind you, slowly waking up. Once he realizes he’s holding you, he pulls away, clearing his throat.
You sit up and collect your bag before you go to his ensuite bathroom, not making eye contact. After texting a friend to ask if you can come over, you mentally rehearse what you’ll say to Rafe as you brush your teeth.
He’s sitting up in bed when you come out. He can see how tired you are, but you still manage to be so breathtakingly beautiful.
“Hi,” you say. You take a breath, standing over him, your bag at your chest. “There’s no way I can thank you enough. You saved my life. If I was home alone, he would’ve taken me somewhere and…”
You look down, knowing you shouldn’t spiral into the what if’s.
“After what I did to you, you still helped me,” you say, quieter now. “I know you think low of yourself, but you shouldn’t. Because of you, I’m alive right now.”
Rafe stares up at you, his hair tousled over his forehead. Only you can give him this feeling of pride in himself. This feeling that maybe he has a reason to exist other than getting wasted and taking out his anger in every way he can.
“It wasn’t all me,” he replies. “You’re tougher than you know.” You offer him a small, thankful smile.
“I’ll get Sarah to drive me to a friend’s,” you say. “And I’ll stay there until my parents get back tonight.”
You start to walk towards the door, but his words stop you.
“I never stopped missing you, either,” he says tensely, remembering your words from last night. “Just so you know.”
You look at him with doleful eyes. Rafe’s heart pounds faster when you drop your bag and approach him. You duck, pressing your cheek against his shoulder, hugging him.
He wraps his arms around you and closes his eyes until you pull back and take your warmth with you. You can both feel that this is goodbye.
You’re grateful not only because he kept you safe from Ty, but because he allowed this arrangement between you to end cordially. He opened up one last time, giving you the comfort of knowing that he still cared about you even after the accident he blames you for.
He missed you, too. It gives you a reprieve from the pain, even just for a second.
You have a long phone conversation with your lawyer when you arrive at your friend’s house. Ty’s back in custody. There’s no option for bail now. He’ll be incarcerated until the trial. Your original court date has been nullified, as a judge has granted you the permanent protective order given the circumstances.
You give your official police statement, emphasizing as many times as you can that Rafe acted in self-defence and protected you. When your lawyer confirms he isn’t being charged with anything, you’re more relieved than ever.
You’re in a haze when you finally see your parents again. Telling them everything feels like you’re recounting a horror movie.
Your home is still deemed a crime scene, so your parents book a hotel room. You’re lying in the firm, cold hotel bed when your phone buzzes with a text.
It’s from Rafe. It’s almost midnight and you saw him this morning, but it feels like it’s been weeks. You doing ok?
You reply: yes. my parents got back and we’re at a hotel. are you ok?
He doesn’t text back. You take that as a response in itself. Whatever you had is officially over.
The next afternoon, you can finally go home. The window Ty broke is repaired. You have an irrational fear of seeing his blood on the foyer floor when you walk back into your house, even after your parents confirmed with the cops that the scene has been cleaned up.
Rafe is trying to get used to the way life is now. It feels wrong not being around you. You’re all he thinks about. When he wakes up. As he goes to sleep.
He should have replied to your text. But how can he put into words just how not okay he is? He kept it under wraps for years, then opened up to you just to ruin things between you all over again.
It’s been almost a week since he’s seen you. Other Kooks are gossiping about what happened, spreading theories and lies. They know to quiet down when they realize Rafe is in earshot.
He’s not sure if people think you’re still together or not, but they seem to know better than to blabber about it when he’s around.
It’s Saturday night and people are scattered across the massive wraparound balcony facing the beach behind Tannyhill. Rafe’s preparing a line of coke, falling into his old escapist habits.
He misses you. He’s afraid things really are back to how they were. He wants to see you. He just needs to figure out how to make it happen.
It’s loud and crowded. You haven’t left your bedroom in days, but finally, you’ve stepped outside after your friends encouraged you to come to a party. It made it easier to accept the invite when you heard it was at Rafe’s house. You want to check on him, even if it’s from a distance.
You can feel people’s eyes on you when you enter the party. It’s uncomfortable, knowing your trauma is being gossiped about and picked apart.
Ty’s in jail, but sometimes that isn’t enough. You can’t get it out of your head, the way he looked when he broke in, frantic as he waved his gun around.
You’re gazing out at the setting sun as you stand on the balcony, slipping into your thoughts as your friends chatter around you.
You’re worried you’ll be afraid of your ex forever. The safest you’ve ever felt was with Rafe and that was temporary.
You instinctually look around for him. You don’t see him, but then there’s a break in the crowd, and you spot him sitting at a table, hunched over, ready to do a line.
It’s like nothing has changed. You see Rafe the way you’ve seen him throughout your adolescence, chasing a high and acting like you don’t exist. Even after everything that happened between you.
Rafe’s about to breathe in his first line of the night. Until his eyes meet yours. And then everything goes quiet.
His fear that things are how they were before is shattered. They can’t be. Because instead of looking away, he doesn’t want to tear his eyes off of you.
You think you’re giving something to him by giving him space, but you’re not. You’re taking happiness and peace and love away from him.
Your breath catches when you feel a rush of tears thickening in your throat. Your heart is broken from so many things, but it’s mostly from the role you played in breaking his.
You excuse yourself and rush into the house, hopeful nobody will see you cry. You’re not even sure where you’re going. You just know you want to be alone.
You end up in Rafe’s room, simply because it’s the only room in the house that gives you the level of comfort you’re craving. You gaze out of one of the windows as you try to calm yourself down.
You remember entering this house for the first time. His father and yours fell into conversation like old friends do and Rafe was at his mother’s side, just barely leaning on her, enough for comfort but not so much that he looked like he needed the crutch.
You kept glancing at each other while the adults talked and when he finally offered you a shy smile, you smiled back, and you don’t know if he felt it, too, but at that moment, you knew you were going to be friends.
You sit on his bed, hands on your knees as you breathe through the hurt.
The doorknob turns. Rafe flips on the light when he comes in, his eyes boring into you. You quickly wipe away your tears. He was the last person you expected to follow you.
“Hey,” he says, shutting the door. “What’s wrong?”
“Sorry,” you say. “I can go.”
“No,” Rafe says. “What is it?”
You can’t put him through the honest answer.
“Sucks how everyone’s talking about it,” you say. Truthfully, you couldn’t care less about the gossip.
Rafe squints for a moment, slowly making his way to you, settling on the bed an inch away from you, his cologne drifting in the air.
“Is that really it?” he asks. You nervously clasp your hands, looking down. He knows that’s not really it. You can see from the corner of his eye that he’s still watching you.
You don’t answer.
“I hate myself for telling you,” Rafe mumbles. You wince at his words.
“You shouldn’t. It’s better that I know.”
“It’s not.” Rafe anxiously rubs his forehead. “It sounded so fucking wrong when you said it’s your fault. When I heard you say it out loud, it…”
It turned everything inside out. All he’s been thinking about these past few days is how and when to tell you this.
“You know when you said maybe it was your fault he wouldn’t leave you alone?” he asks.
You think back to that night when you confessed how terrible your relationship with Ty had been. You had told Rafe it’s easier for you to take responsibility because then you’re not just a victim.
“I can’t let you blame yourself like that again,” Rafe says. “You were a kid.”
“You really don’t blame me?” you ask.
“I don’t.” His words take a weight off of your shoulders.
“You were a kid, too, Rafe. You can’t blame yourself, either,” you say softly. “And if anyone else does, they’re wrong.”
You can tell by the way he grimaces that he’s been made to feel guilty for it by someone else. His father. You have no doubt about it.
“It’s different,” Rafe mutters.
“It’s not,” you reply. “You’re just as innocent as I am.”
Rafe knew his mother well. He knows she spent her last moments worrying about him, regretting that she made the decision to leave the house with him. She was an amazing mother. He’s sure she died thinking she wasn’t.
“I didn’t tell her I loved her,” he says, voice starting to falter. “The last chance I had.”
Your chest tightens.
“You know how you always picked flowers for her on our way up to the house?” you say. “And how she was so happy every time you gave them to her?”
The memory makes the corners of Rafe’s lips turn up in a smile. He didn’t know you remembered that.
“You spent time getting her flowers just to make her day, over and over,” you say. “You don’t have to tell someone you love them for them to know. You showed her in a million ways. She knew. I promise.”
Rafe’s been living in an unforgiving cycle of hating the world, looking for blame, all to keep from accepting the truth that there was no sense to what happened. No reason. It just happened. And it left him in pieces.
Your words give him a quiet feeling of freedom that he hasn’t felt in a long time. The cycle is addictive and comfortable, but it keeps him moving in circles. Getting him nowhere.
Talking about his mother doesn’t hurt as bad this time. Because you brought up a good memory, and he doesn’t picture her in the car like he always does, but he sees her downstairs, pinching his cheek, smiling, putting wildflowers in a small vase.
Rafe’s eyes find yours again. All he can feel is a warm, stirring gratitude sinking into him. His lips part for a second before he can reach for the words.
“Thank you,” he says. “How’ve you been?”
“It’s hard,” you admit. “I keep thinking I’m going to run into him. We’re just waiting on the trial to start and I wish I knew what’s going to happen.”
Rafe takes a deep breath. He’s terrified of letting you hear how dark his thoughts get, but right now, he’s as sure as he can be that you’re the one person in the world who wouldn’t look at him with judgement.
“I wanted to kill him,” Rafe mutters. “I would right now if I had the chance.”
He looks at you, scared as he awaits your response. You tilt your head and gaze at him with sorrowful eyes.
“I think if someone was doing something like that to you,” you say, “I’d feel the same way.”
Rafe knew you cared about him, but to know you feel just as intensely for him as he does for you is a relief. He’s still not sure he deserves it.
“How have you been after everything?” you ask.
“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he says, his words rushed. “I keep wanting to text or call but I don’t know how to say it.”
“How to say what?”
“How much I regret it all,” he says. Rafe combs a hand through his hair, heeling forward, his elbows resting on his thighs. “Every single time you tried to talk to me, I was such a dick to you. I’m sorry.”
You’ve imagined him saying this, but you thought it’d always stay a daydream. As you think about everything he’s told you, about how uncontrollable his thoughts can be and how badly he needs distractions and how utterly lonely he’s been, you feel nothing but forgiveness for him.
“You know that photo I took down?” you say. He nods, picturing the image of the four of you on the beach. “What happened, happened to that little kid. I think he handled things the only way he knew how.”
Rafe sits straight, tears threatening to form. You never run out of compassion for him. You’ve always been here, reminding him he’s human and that it’s okay to hurt and to need help.
His eyes are on yours again, and this time, he’s looking at you like he did the night before he kissed you. It’s like life is returning to his features, a pink hue blooming across his cheeks.
He recalls your words from your last night together. But you don’t want me in your life?
“I want you in my life, alright?” he says. He ducks his head just a bit, looking at you with a mix of infatuation and nerves. “If you still want to be in it.”
Your lips quiver with an endeared frown as you gaze at the multifaceted, complex, passionate man sitting in front of you.
“I do,” you say. Because the past few weeks have been so stressful, all you want right now is clarity. “You mean as a friend?”
“No,” Rafe scoffs, a smile quirking on his face again. “No. If you want that, we’ll do that. But I want more. Please tell me I didn’t fuck this up.”
You gaze at him through your lashes, feeling like you might just melt at the soft way he’s looking at you and speaking to you.
“Believe me,” Rafe says, “that I’ll be different. For real, this time. I don’t…” He sighs. “I never want you feeling like you’re bothering me. It’s the opposite. Every minute I’m not with you is just… it’s hell.”
He licks his lips from nervousness. He doesn’t like that you haven’t said anything yet.
“What are you thinking?” he asks.
You smile at him, bringing your hand to his, feeling that his knuckles have completely healed now. This right here is the moment you think you might be able to let go of the fear and instability and pain that’s existed between you for so long.
“I want more, too,” you tell him. He looks at you with furrowed brows almost like he’s in pain, like waiting for this has actually been hurting him.
Rafe hopes his impatience to kiss you isn’t too much for you when he leans forward, laying his lips to yours, but you meet him with the same hunger.
He holds you, cupping your cheek, stroking your skin with his thumb as your lips weave together. His tongue runs against yours and you raise your hands, one resting on the crook of his neck while the other runs over his hair.
With a quiet moan of pure desire, Rafe kisses harder, moving even closer to you so that your eyelashes overlap.
He separates to close his lips on your neck, trailing hot, desperate kisses over your throat. Then, Rafe’s fingers rest on your hips, fingertips dipping under your shirt.
“Can I take this off?” he asks huskily.
“Yes,” you breathe.
The slowly burning flame between you has sparked into a wildfire now. You feel the fabric of your top slowly dragging up your body, making you dizzy.
Rafe watches in awe as he pulls your shirt off you, all of his senses going hot when he watches the way your chest is rising and falling, the way your bra looks pushed against your body. He dips to kiss your neck again as he holds you at your waist.
“Tell me if I’m going too fast,” he whispers, “or if I need to stop.”
“Don’t stop,” you whisper back. Your hand drags over his hard jaw to pull him up to your lips again. Rafe is intoxicated by this feeling, by the promise of pleasure, by the pure joy of being wanted.
Your lips quietly smack together as his fingers skim up the side of your body, over your shoulder, down the line of your bra strap, finally wandering over your chest.
He massages you gently, earning breathy moans from you. With eyes still shut, you find the top button of his shirt, pulling it out of its loop slowly.
Your kisses grow even more impatient as you unbutton his shirt, moving down his chest, finally reaching the bottom. Your fingers slip under his collar, pushing his shirt down his shoulders.
Once Rafe’s shirt is on the floor, he leans against you, gently guiding you onto your back on his soft bed, still kissing you. You run your hands down the firm curve of his back, making him shudder into your mouth.
His fingers dip under your bra strap, feeling desperate to see you. His forehead presses against yours as he pulls back.
“Is this okay?” he rasps.
You nod and your breath hitches when he pulls the strap down over your shoulder and dips to kiss where it sat. His groin already feels so tight that it hurts.
Slowly, he lowers to kiss the valley between your breasts, making your heart pound even harder. When he finally pulls down the cup of your bra, seeing you bare draws a stunned, sharp intake of breath from him.
You rake your hand through his hair when you feel his hot mouth on you. You moan softly and the sound of you revelling in the pleasure he’s giving you puts him in an even deeper daze.
Rafe cups your waist and drags his hands to your back. You arch to give him just enough space to unhook your bra, and once he has full access to your chest, you shut your eyes as his tongue and hands roam over you.
He leaves wet kisses all over your chest and comes back up to capture your lips again. His movements are languid as he rests his hand between your legs and suddenly, your clothes feel suffocating. You’ve never needed someone more.
Rafe drags his fingers over you, pressing in gentle circles. You spread your legs wide as he hovers over you, holding himself up on his elbow.
His eyes are on you, full of lust and want, imagining how you’ll taste if you let him go that far. He sinks to dip his fingers beneath the band at your hips, pulling the clothing down your legs, taking his time.
He settles over you again, putting his hand back where it was, and even though there’s still one more layer of fabric to strip, he can feel you so much better.
You whimper as he drags his fingers over you, and then he lowers again, his head between your legs.
You meet Rafe’s gaze when he kisses you right over your panties, and the intimacy, the pure vulnerability thickens the air even more.
“Can I?” he mumbles, his breath warm. You nod in desperation.
He slides the last piece of clothing you have on off of you, and when his eyes drink you in, his heart pounds loud in his ears.
“You’re beautiful,” he says, dipping to kiss your inner thighs before finally tasting you. You breathe out shakily as his tongue curls against you, as his hands hook around the tops of your thighs, resting on your hips.
Your whole body is hot and trembling as he kisses and sucks and licks, worshipping every bit of you.
Rafe can’t get enough of you. He just started and he already dreads the thought of stopping.
Your hands sit on his and he squeezes your fingers as he buries his face against you, holding both your hands, gazing up to see the bliss written in your pretty features.
He shifts to bring one of his hands where his mouth is, gliding over you, working both on you to bring you to a mind-blowing climax that leaves you moaning.
Rafe holds himself up over you again, kissing you, letting you taste yourself, as you eagerly unbutton his jeans. He helps you pull his pants down and when you grip him over his boxers, he nearly whimpers in need.
You stroke slowly, your hand wrapped around him, the other pushing against his bare chest to gently lead him to lie on his back.
You drag his boxers down, looking at him with pure arousal. His face is twisted in pleasure when you put your mouth on him, tasting him, taking him in completely.
He couldn’t take his eyes off you if he tried. You slowly pick up your pace and he knows if you go any longer, he won’t last.
“Can we…” he rasps. You’re trembling in anticipation, already knowing what he’s asking.
You shift higher, resting on your knees, your bare bodies pressed together as you kiss him.
You lower your hand, holding him, dipping against him to just barely meet each other. It’d take just one buck of your hips to feel him inside you.
“You sure?” he asks.
“Yes. Are you?”
“Yes,” he groans. “Go as slow as you need to.”
You nod, shuddering as you position yourself and slowly sink onto him. You moan in unison at the sensation of your bodies meeting this way.
When you finally take all of him in, you pause to revel in the feeling, breathing heavily, your cheeks brushing.
“I love you,” Rafe says, his deep voice weaved with awe.
You pull back to look at him, not sure if you heard him right. You take in the color of his eyes and the beauty of his edges and your heart has never felt like it was glowing until this very moment.
“I love you, too,” you half-whisper. He almost can’t come to grips with the fact that you said it back with such certainty. Like you have no doubt that he has a place in your heart.
You roll your hips, taking your time to adjust to him. His hands are at your waist as he enjoys the slow ecstasy of your warmth.
You hug him tightly as you slowly move up and down. Eventually, you can feel him tensing beneath you, and you want to give him the control to reach the pace he needs.
You lift off of him, kissing him before you shift onto your back. He doesn’t waste any time to settle over you, slowly pushing into you again.
You’ve always worn your heart on your sleeve for Rafe, while he’s kept his caged. He thought he didn’t even have one anymore. But you remind him that he does have this side of him, that it still exists, that he wants to give all of it you.
“I love you,” he rasps again. “I love you. I love you.”
Bliss overwhelms you as you tenderly kiss his forehead. He gently rocks forward and back, filling you perfectly as his thrusts slowly quicken.
“You’re everything to me,” he whispers into your ear. “I love you.”
“I love you,” you say, wrapping your legs around him. His breaths quicken as he moves faster, writhing over you into a climax that makes him groan.
Your bodies are glistening with sweat, your breaths heavy. Rafe’s weight doesn’t leave you as he collapses in pleasure.
“Is it okay if I stay like this?” he asks.
“Yes,” you breathe. His face is nuzzled into your neck, panting as he breathes you in, still inside you, living in this perfect moment with you.
Rafe has felt homesick since he can remember. Even within the walls of his own bedroom. But you and the feeling you give him are home. Safety with no exceptions, love with no conditions.
“What’d I do to deserve you?” he mumbles against your skin.
“Exist,” you say with a gentle laugh.
Rafe plants lazy kisses against your neck as you hold him, slowly coming back to reality. There’s a whole party happening in his house, but in his world, it’s only you and him.
When he gets up, he isn’t prepared for how empty he feels when he loses the feeling of you wrapped around him. You lie next to him, facing each other with tired smiles.
“How was it?” he asks. The question sends you into a fit of laughter.
“You heard me, right?” you say, almost embarrassed from the sounds you made.
Rafe smirks and moves even closer to you, kissing you as you both lie on his pillow. You rest your palm on his face, gently tapping at the deep dimple in his cheek with your finger.
“You should show these more often,” you say.
“What?”
“Your dimples.”
He laughs, thinking to himself that he’ll do anything you want him to if you’ll keep loving him. He’s drunk on the feeling of the simplicity of being with you. It’s easy and pure.
Rafe asks if you want to shower together, and soon, you’re in his ensuite, standing under hot water ebbing over your skin.
Every movement between you is a slow expression of love, your bodies curved together as you share kisses and hold each other.
At one point, he’s clinging onto you, his lips pressed on your shoulder, and you’re holding him like you did the night in your house when he finally opened up completely.
Rafe is overcome by every emotion he’s feeling and it’s the first time in years that he cries without urging himself to stop. Because you’re here and you know everything and you still don’t want to leave.
You hold each other in bed wearing nothing but towels. He asks you if you want to go back out to the party and is relieved when you tell him you don’t.
“I’m falling asleep,” you eventually say, your legs tangled with his as he holds you. “I should go home.”
“No,” he says. “Why? Stay. Sleep here.”
You text your parents that you’re sleeping over. You know they’ll assume you’re staying in Sarah’s room, since you’ve done it so many times.
After you put your phone on Rafe’s nightstand, you snuggle into him, your head resting on his shoulder. You yawn, getting goosebumps from the way his fingers trail up and down your arm.
“Need a distraction?” you ask.
“No,” Rafe replies tiredly. For once, his mind isn’t racing. The mix of chaos and calm he thought he felt with you is no longer a mix at all. It’s just calm. It’s just peace.
You wake up in Rafe’s arms, feeling his heartbeat against your cheek and his breaths on the top of your head. It feels unreal recounting last night, remembering the amount of times he told you he loves you.
You shift slowly to get out of bed, putting on your bra and underwear and slipping into his bathroom. He’s sitting up in bed when you come back out. His eyes immediately trail down your body, a smile growing on his face.
“What?” you ask.
“You’re just…” Rafe exhales, resting his arm out on the bed in a way to beckon you to come back. “Perfect.”
“You mean as a friend?” you joke. You settle back into bed on your knees as he chuckles.
“Fuck no,” he answers, making you laugh. “Do you have to leave?”
“I don’t,” you say. Your body warms when you see the relief on his face. Now that you’ve sealed the rift that lived between you for so long, you can see just how badly Rafe wants you around.
But it doesn’t feel like a dream anymore. This feels right. Like you were meant to be with him all along.
“Would you wanna go down to the water?” you ask.
He nods. It’s like your kids again; he’d go anywhere you want just to see you smile.
It’s a windy morning by the sea. The sun is covered by clouds as you sit on the private beach next to Rafe. He drapes an arm around you, rubbing your arm to keep you warm. He feels like now that he’s been given permission to touch you, he can’t stop.
“The hours we spent out here,” you mumble. Rafe gazes at your profile as you look out at the horizon.
The dark blue sea makes you think of all the possibilities, of everything to come. You turn to catch him staring.
“I didn’t…” Rafe gently shakes his head. He didn’t know this was possible. “You know how people say they can feel someone around them after they… after they die?”
You nod. He feels guilty as hell with what he’s about to say.
“I never did,” he admits. Your face drops in shock and sadness. You can’t imagine how lonely he’s felt. “But right now, it’s like… it’s like she’s about to call us up to eat. I can feel her here.”
You feel like your heart is whole and broken at the same time. You lean to kiss his cheek over and over, the waves crashing in the distance.
“I need to stop trying to forget her,” Rafe says sadly.
He glances down at the sand, and you can tell anxiety is starting to grip him. You take a deep breath before you speak.
“I think she’d understand why you did,” you say. “What do you think about getting her flowers?”
Blue eyes finds yours. He hasn’t visited her grave in years. If he does today, he’ll need you with him.
“Yeah,” he says simply, dusting the sand off his jeans as he heads to the patch of grass by the boardwalk.
The cemetery is quiet and tranquil. You drove over on his motorcycle, holding onto him tighter than you needed to. Your shoes pad over the paved walkway, feeling more and more nervous as you approach where she rests.
The headstone isn’t as big as Rafe remembers, but he figures it’s because he was much smaller when he visited last. He starts to cry as soon as he sees the photo of her in the center of the plaque. He forgot that was there.
Tears burn your eyes when you watch him slowly drop to his knees, his hands splayed on the lush grass.
You read the epitaph over and over again. When love is eternal, life cannot die.
Rafe forgot that he was holding the flowers he picked and he realizes he broke some stems, but when he looks at her photo again, he puts the flowers right at the corner of the headstone, knowing she was always happy with any bouquet he gave her, no matter the condition.
You sink beside him, resting a hand on his back.
“Should I talk?” he stammers. “I don’t know what to do.”
“You do whatever feels right,” you reply.
“Can you talk?” he asks.
“Yes,” you say. You’ve been yearning to talk like this with him for years. “You know you have her smile?”
“Really?”
“Yes,” you say. “It’s one of the reasons I love seeing you happy.”
Rafe nods, a tear dripping off his chin. He needs you to keep talking.
“And I remember she was always winking at me,” you say. “I don’t know if you saw.”
“She did that because she knew I had a crush on you,” Rafe mumbles. You smile sadly, rubbing his back.
“I’m pretty sure she knew I had one on you, too,” you say. “She was so smart and so sweet. Everyone could see how much she loved being your mom.”
Rafe offers you a grateful smile.
“I miss her,” he says, his voice brittle.
“Me, too,” you reply. “I’m sorry. I can go back to the parking lot if you want?”
You’re offering to give him time alone here. And to his surprise, he nods. He can do this. You kiss his temple and give him the moment he needs.
Rafe is sitting in silence for a minute before he finds the words. He stares at her photo.
“I’m sorry I made you drive that night,” he mumbles. “I’m sorry I always got mad at you when you called me your baby. I just wanted to grow up and you told me to enjoy being young and you were right.”
He clears his throat.
“I’m sorry I dug myself into a hole and tried to forget you. But I think she’s right. You’d understand.”
He cracks a small smile, remembering when he first told his mom he liked you, how nervous and giddy he felt.
“Still want to marry her,” he says. He can hear the way she laughed when her ten-year-old son told her he hoped you’d be his wife one day, but he’d still want to live at home so he’d beg for you to move in. “She never left my side, mom. I gave her every reason to but I think she saw how much I was hurting.”
Rafe promises her he won’t let so much time pass before he visits again. And when he finds you standing by his bike, he holds you so tightly that he feels your heart beating against his.
Everything is different for him now. He hasn’t had the comfort of permanence in his life for a long time. He can’t believe you want him, even after you’ve seen the worst of him.
Rafe never takes his hands off of you. At every party, on every date, he always has to be touching you in some way to remind himself that he has you for real.
It takes a few tries, but he manages to quit coke. And eventually, he quits waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for you to decide he isn’t worth the effort.
He’s with you every step of the trial. The lawyer says Ty getting ten years in prison is a win, but he thinks the only win would be a life sentence.
Eventually, the trauma loses its power over you. You feel safe. Not because your ex is locked up, but because Rafe is with you.
You stand by him for everything. Every breakdown he has, every time he sinks into his grief, every storm that reminds him of the worst night of his life. You never leave.
You love him for long enough that he finally believes if someone as amazing as you can see something in him, it must be there.
Epilogue
You didn’t ask for much for the wedding. One thing that you were sure about was that you wanted an event artist, someone to paint the day on a canvas to capture it in a unique way.
Rafe is happy to to along with it, but then again, he’s like that with everything when it comes to you. You could never ask too much from him. He’ll forever feel like he owes you for never giving up on him.
The banquet hall is massive and beautifully decorated, and you can hardly hear your own thoughts over the crowd’s chatter and elegant music. The day has been a whirlwind.
When the artist waves you over, you take Rafe’s hand.
“Want to see the painting?” you ask.
“Yeah,” he says, beaming at you simply because of how excited you are.
You had secretly asked the artist to include Anne in the painting. When your eyes land on the canvas, seeing her drawn in with everyone else who stood at the altar warms your heart.
You look up at Rafe, whose mouth is just slightly agape. He stares at his mother’s image, smiling behind him, then looks down, scratching the back of his neck and finding your hand before he leads you away.
“Just a second,” you say to the artist before you let Rafe take you to a dressing room past the hallway.
He shuts the door behind you, facing you with glossy eyes.
“Did I mess up?” you say worryingly. “I’m so sorry. I wanted to surprise you. I thought you’d like it.”
“Hey,” Rafe says softly, hands on your cheeks. “I love it. I just didn’t want to cry in front of everyone. I’ve been barely keeping it together today.”
You laugh in relief, tipping your chin so he’ll kiss you. His lips meet yours. You’re pretty sure your guests could tell he got teary-eyed when he watched you walk down the aisle, but you’ll spare him that detail.
Rafe finds relief from your touch, like always. His mom was here today. He felt it. He feels her all the time now. And you’re still a reminder, but in the best possible way, because you show him that he can remember the good parts. That he can feel love even after someone’s left. That he doesn’t need to carry guilt. That he can look forward to the future.
Apart from the second he became your husband, this is the best moment you’ve had today, because it’s just you two, just like it was when you were kids on the beach, enjoying each other’s company, never wanting to part.
(the end)
author’s note thank you to everyone who stuck with this series 💘 ps did you know tumblr has a text block limit? learned that the hard way lmao. so i’m sorry that some paragraphs got long! hated to sacrifice my structure but had to do it to keep all 10k+ words in 😋
summary when rafe cameron needs to secure a girlfriend in order for his father to see him as a stable man, he enlists the help of a bartender who wants nothing to do with him.
content series, 18+, eventual smut, angst, jealousy, fake dating trope, ward cameron being a bad father, rafe and sarah rivalry
— reader type hyper-independent, people pleaser, smart mouth, stands on business, mysterious past
— rafe's characterization insecure, possessive + jealous person, asshole, mood swings
Who knew Rafe Cameron is a blabbering drunk?
Working as a bartender on the docks, near Heyward's Seafood, you have your fair share of stories about the people who come in. Most of them are locals from The Cut, with the occasional tourists who wander the streets, settling for a clean place to eat.
But it's very rare to have a Kook.
It's been a visit for the past couple of weeks. You don't understand what caused him to come here. There's plenty of bars near Figure Eight—some of which you are sure caters specifically to the Camerons—but you don't question it. Lately, business has been slow, a couple of locals in and out, and with the majority of your income relying on tips, you take it.
Locals don't tip.
Rafe does, however. When he settled down and ordered the largest and most expensive liquor you had on hand, he slipped a fifty into your hands and asked for the bottle as a whole. You don't know if he doesn't have prior tipping etiquette—or because he tips extra for you to keep quiet about his presence—but you gladly take it. Sitting at the end of the counter, his hand cradles a half-empty glass he sips from.
Despite having the whole bottle set in front of him, he still makes you serve him.
Why?
Because he's an asshole.
"You know what he wants to do?" Rafe slurs from across the counter, his eyes flickering to find your presence behind the bar. "He wants to give the company to Sarah."
You hum in response, drying the washed glasses in your hands with a towel as you listen to his nondescript rambles. You knew most of the people he's referring to Sarah Cameron, Ward, and the occasional Pogue you don't know the name of. But, that's how Rafe sees the world: his family, the Kooks, and then everyone else.
"She's nineteen and going around OBX with her fucking Pogue boyfriend and he sees her as stable?" Rafe scoffs, shaking his head as he brings the edge of the glass to his lips and takes a long sip. "Fucking bitch."
Listening to drunk customers vent about their home lives is part of the job description. While it’s dark outside and Rafe is the only customer left, you are technically free to kick him out and make him go about his day elsewhere.
But, there's a rule in your family regarding business: don't go home until the last customer leaves. There's no such thing as kicking someone out at closing time; you were there to wait, serve, and hope they spend a couple more bucks on some more booze. It's a cheapshot of handling enterprise, but that's the way you need to do business and survive as a Pogue.
Rafe taps his empty cup in his hand, eyes pinned on you. "Refill," he mumbles, to which you resist the urge to roll your eyes, and walk over to do exactly as he asks. Lifting the bottle set in front of him to pour him another shot, he watches you as you watch.
"You think it's stupid, right?" He asks, his gaze lifting to study your face. "He thinks Sarah is more equipped to handle Cameron Development because of that Pogue. Because he ties her down. Is that some bullshit?"
His gaze is intense and you don't know whether to answer or not. While you don't know much of the story, of the background behind his persistent rambles, you pieced together enough that it's about Ward deciding to give Sarah the family company because of her stability as a person. Because she's reliable.
You shrug, "I don't know." Because you don't. You don't want to get involved in whatever problems Rafe is dealing with. You don't want to offer unsolicited opinions because who knows if it'll come back to bite you in the ass.
He scoffs, then releases a bitter laugh. "Of course you don't," he leans back against his seat, almost swaying against the backless stool, before shaking his head, disciplining himself. "You're a Pogue. I must be losing it if I'm talking to you."
You roll your eyes, turning away from the Kook and settling on the rest of your tasks. You're used to Kooks putting you down like that, seeing you as nothing more than the bottom of the chain because you don't have some fancy degree from UNC or because you aren't floating on a yacht somewhere.
Just as you're returning bottles back on the shelf, you hear Rafe mumbles to himself. "Does he want me to be tied down or something?"
You let out an abrupt laugh, before quickly stiffening the sound. However, it was too late. When you look back over, you see his blue eyes set on you, a hard expression on his face. "Sorry," you mumble, wishing you had better control over your tongue. "I thought I heard something funny."
You wished you could blame it on the TV, but unfortunately, you had turned that off a while ago.
"You laughing at me, sweetheart?"
"No," you clear your throat, but the look on Rafe's face makes it seem like he's in no mood to hear lies right now. You rectify the answer. "Yes."
"What's so funny?"
"The idea of you getting tied down," you answer slowly. You carefully study his expression to see if anything you say could trigger a bad reaction. "It just seems amusing to me."
Because it is. Rafe is known around Outer Banks as the reckless prince, the one who hosts parties, gets shit-faced drunk, and hooks up with every woman within his proximity. The idea of him losing all of that—the parties, the drinking, the women—was not something you could picture in your head.
"What about it?" He challenges, an edge to his tone. "You think I can't fucking do it?"
From your experience as a bartender, you know he's coming close to unraveling. What you say next could cause him to erupt or calm down, and while you would love to sell him some lies, to get him to back down and leave, something in you doesn't let it pass. All night, he's been nothing short of an asshole to you. To act like he's above you because you are nothing but a Pogue meant to serve him. Why would you pass up an opportunity to deliver some harsh reality?
"Look at yourself," you gesture to him, "you're here, drinking at my bar after an argument with your father. He's trying to tell you that you aren't dependable enough to rely on and the first thing you do is turn to your vices. What do you think?"
Even if you intended it to be harsh, you said it nicely.
He stares at you, hard. You don't like it. You heard the rumors of what happens when he gets pissed—where he throws chairs and smashed bottles. You don't want to be a recipient of that.
"Never mind," you shake your head, returning back to your task. "Just forget it. I'm misreading the situation."
"No," he says with a shake of his head. "You said it. Might as well own it with your chest. Dancing around it wouldn't make you anymore likable."
You clench your jaw. On top of being a blabbering drunk, Rafe is cruel.
Not answering him, you walk over to where he sits and take the glass from his hand, right as he's about to take another sip.
"What the fuck?"
"I think it's time for you to leave."
He scoffs, not moving from his position. "Just because I said I didn't like you?"
"No, because you're acting like an asshole and frankly, I don't want to put up with it anymore," you say, pouring the rest of the content down the sink. "You can take the bottle with you. But other than that, you need to leave."
Rafe stares at you for a few seconds, contemplating what to do, but he doesn't have any grounds here. He may be a Kook, but that means shit when he's in the south side of Outer Banks. When his opponent is a bartender. Instead of responding to you, he slides off the stool and grabs the booze by the handle.
Just as he's about to set out of the door, you shout behind him with a mock farewell, "'pleasure doing business with you!"
—
That day, you thought would be the last of your interactions with Rafe. After all, most people don't want to continue doing business with someone who calls them out on their bullshit and kicks them out of their shops.
But, a couple of days later, Rafe comes through the door of your family-owned pub.
You paid little attention to him. You were trying to log the tips into the cash register, not catering to some entitled prick who has no means being here. Plus, there's another bartender on hand who's more than willing to help Rafe with anything he needs.
You didn't care.
Your coworker can get his tips.
As you're filing in the last of the receipts, Miranda comes over to tap you on the shoulders.
"Rafe wants to talk to you."
You stare at her for a few seconds, as if she was speaking another language. You thought she did. Why in the world would he want to talk to you? You were unpleasant to him. You were nothing of the customer service attitude your parents drilled into you as a child. You thought it was clear grounds for him to look the other direction.
"I'm busy," you say to Miranda, who shifts uncomfortably in her stance, not leaving.
"He said he's willing to wait."
That means he was expecting you to say no.
You scoff. "Tell him I'm not going to be free until closing time."
"But..." Miranda starts again, and you are starting to lose your patience with her. "We don't have a closing time."
You smile at that. "Exactly."
Despite the harsh undertone, Miranda still relays the message back to Rafe. You watch as she does, his eyes briefly pans over to you as you offer him a forced smile with a wave of your fingers and his jaw visibly tense. You thought that would be the end of the conversation but, to be proven wrong again, he slides into the bar stool he previously occupied the other night and orders a drink.
Then another.
You did your best to avoid the area he occupied, but it was proven to be difficult as he spent his time right in front of you. You got busy, running around and assisting locals and tourists who came in to get a taste of the infamous and historical Sailor of Outer Banks. While you're running around, placing orders, making drinks, and trying to navigate the cramped space behind the bar—Rafe remains.
He remained until he was the very last customer.
You sigh as you glance at the clock. Miranda has since left and you're left carrying the shop ever since. All you want to do is go home and relax, but that will be proven impossible until Rafe leaves the establishment.
With a strong reluctance, you step forward to where Rafe sat, his eyes on the TV screen hung on the wall, while his hands occupied another glass.
"Fine," you sigh, causing Rafe to tear away from the screen. The corner of his lips lift into a self-satisfying smirk. "I'm here."
"You finally ready to talk to me?"
"You ready to stop being such a prick?" You quip back, just to see his expression broadens at your snark. You can't lie and say the movement didn't make him more attractive. "What do you want?"
For a moment, you thought he might be here to apologize for asking like an ass the other night.
But, you were too hopeful.
"I came up with a solution," he begins, his words a subtle slur that contrasts the intoxication of the other night.
"For what?" You entertain the conversation, crossing your arms over your chest.
"My dad." He answers. "He wants me to be stable."
"I remember."
"And from when he was talking about Sarah, one of the reasons he thinks he can rely on her is because she's with that Pogue." He explains, "that it somehow makes her dependable. I don't fucking know, the logic is flawed."
"And old-fashioned, but continue."
His blue eyes dart to your face, before he utters the next words. "That means I need a girlfriend."
You nod, glad to see that he came to his conclusion. You thought this was another one of his ramblings, a need to vent to someone he doesn't think matters in the long-run, just to get it off his chest. Now that it is, you're about to step back and turn around to start your night tasks before he holds out a hand.
"Wait," he commands, causing you to stop on your tracks. You raise a brow at him. "I want you to be my girlfriend."
You laugh. It truly is a bad habit of yours but the idea came out as total lunacy and shock. You thought he would join. But, when you look back to his face and have the striking realization that he is serious, you start to sober up. "You're serious."
"Yeah," he says, clenching his jaw, like the moment of wonderful ideas was truly something he was proud of and you struck it down like lightning.
"I'm sorry but," you shake your head, not having the ability to wrap your head around the suggestion. "You barely know me. Isn't there a line of other people who would love to become the next Mrs. Cameron?"
You know that's true. You also know if he had told Miranda this, she would've jumped to the idea before he concluded his brilliant plan. So, you can't, for the life of you, figure out why he's choosing you out of everyone else.
"Yes, but I don't want them." He answers with a shake of his head, leaning closer to the counter. You don't know why but something about that makes your chest warm. "I don't want a real girlfriend. I just need you to pretend to be."
Just like that, the feeling in your stomach dies.
"Pretend?" You repeat.
"Yes," he nods. "It's just like you said. I still have my vices. I don't want to give them up. I just want my dad to think I did."
"I still don't understand how this has anything to do with me," you furrow your brows together.
He sighs, out of frustration or impatience, you don't know. But, he goes to explain, "my dad once told me that John B was a reliable person. That he was a Pogue who was hard-working and determined. That's why he likes him for Sarah—because he hopes it would rub off on her too."
You nod slowly, connecting the dots as he continues. "You're a Pogue," he says with a huff, the title left his tongue with an ounce of disgust you were ready to throw him out of the bar again. "He likes to go on his good samaritan bullshit and employs people from The Cut for certain events. You were one of them."
It takes a second to remember what he was talking about. He's right. A couple of years ago, when you were eighteen, you got a catering job from the Camerons for some big business event. It was the most you made in your lifetime, from all the tips and drunk Kooks who wanted to give back to the poor.
But, he never employed you again.
"Do you see where I'm going now?"
You do, but you hate the attitude he's giving you. Like you were a Pogue who couldn't string together simple facts. Like you should've known what he's talking about.
"I do, but why the fuck you acting like I would've known the whole thing with John B?" You snap, and this surprises him for a moment. Taking a breath to cool the anger in your chest, you calm. "This doesn't explain why it has to be me."
His next statement comes off more nice. "My dad wants someone like that. I doubt he would approve of anyone else, and plus, I don't have to worry about you wanting something more. You clearly despise me."
That isn't true, but you do understand where he's coming from.
"So, let me get this straight." You start. "I'm basically an arm candy for you to parade around in front of your father while the rest of the time, you are free to drink and fuck whoever you want."
"I'm glad that Pogue brain of yours is catching up."
You glare at him, but say nothing else. Picking up the dirty rag off the counter, where you were planning on using to clean, you turn back to Rafe, "as much as I would love to play house with you, I don't have time. Unlike you, I have bills to pay and a job to do."
You turn your back to him but he stops you.
"I'll pay you."
You scoff. "It's not that," you say, because truly, it isn't. A few short-term payments for a couple of missed shifts isn't going to help you in the long-run. You're trying to revive Sailor, to make it a place where it can stand on its own. What is a couple of bucks going to do for that? "I'm sorry, but I don't have the time for it. You're going to have to find someone else."
"I don't want someone else."
He looks at you desperate, as if you would give in, and for a moment, you might. Perhaps it's because you're so used to helping others, or because you were raised to cater to people—to people like him—that your stomach cower at the thought of saying no. But, you have to stand firm on this. You don't have time to go out and party, much less spend your free-time parading around in his arms as some sort of trophy.
You were serious.
"I'm sorry, I truly am."
Your voice is filled with sympathy, and it softens him for a moment. But, that quickly passes as Rafe Cameron has to recoil with the idea that he didn't get what he wanted. Probably for the first time in his life.
With an annoyed huff, he slams the cash for the drinks he's been nursing and leaves.
You thought it would be the end of it.
Not knowing, by the end of this week, you will be known as Rafe's girlfriend.
★ part two ★
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omg yes more dealer rafe, maybe him and reader on vacation somewhere and they have super hot balcony sex 😁!!
This man loves to fly you out of the country. Treating you to expensive alcohol and luxury resorts that looked over crystal waters. He loved seeing you happy, prancing around in a tiny bikini that barely covered your nice set of tits and spankable ass. He was a happy man himself, dick buried in your tight pussy as he gave you the best backshots a girl could ever want.
Your pretty nails sparkled in the tropical sunlight, gripping the ledge of the balcony as your boyfriend drilled into you from behind. Anyone could see you if they looked up, but you were too far gone to care, drunk off tequila and dick. “S-shit daddy.” You mumbled, eyes rolling back as his hand came up to grip your hair around his wrist.
“Fuck mama…yeah throw that shit back for daddy.” Rafe’s tone raspy as he brought his free hand down to smack your cheeks as they bounced against his hips. His hand in your hair gripped tighter, using it as a rein as you tried your best to throw your hips back to meet his thrusts.
You could already feel yourself start to come undone, eyes rolling back as your lower tummy tightened. Your hand left the railing, reaching back to tap at Rafe’s toned abs. “D-daddy I can’t…” You whined breathlessly, orgasm coming whether you wanted it to or not.
Rafe laughed lowly, removing his hand from your hair to pull both your arms back to pin behind your back. You gasped, head now hanging off the balcony as he began pile driving into you with brutal force. “You aren’t gonna fuckin run from this dick, nah.. take that shit and make a fuckin mess on it.” He nearly growled, not caring who the fuck saw as you clamped down onto him.
Dealer!Rafe could get away with whatever he wanted. That meant nutting in his beautiful girl on the balcony of the luxurious resort he could afford because he did illegal shit.
summary- john b cheats on you with sarah cameron you get revenge by getting with her brother
warning- DUBCON, sex under the influence, raw sex (wrap it folks), drinking, smoking, partying, fighting, sex tape (reader knows hes recording but doesnt know he sent it to her ex), semi public beach house sex, meanish pussy drunk rafe lol
you took a hit of your pen, gently coughing from the amount you just inhaled. you were currently in your boyfriends room, confronting him. you had caught john b cheating on you with sarah cameron, kook princess and someone you thought was your friend.
“can you not do that in my room? take this seriously.” john b said swiping his hands in the air to get rid of the cloud puffs floating. you scoffed, the audacity.
“i dont give a fuck about what youre asking for me to do right now john b, you cannot be for real about me taking this seriously.”
“i dont know what to tell you, she was going through something. she needed me.” john b gave his bullshit excuse which made you even more angry.
“what about me, did you even think about me for one bit before you decided to fuck her ?” you screamed at him, getting up from the couch ready to leave the room. as you have your hand on handle, john b grabs it. his large hand covers yours.
“i love you.. please” he pleads, eyes getting wetter.
“dont touch me with that dirty ass hand john b, i shouldve known. no matter how much i showed my love for you, no matter how much i cared. you will always choose her.” you gritted through your teeth.
“i-”
“no, its okay. im done with this shit.” your voice cracks and you slam the door in front of john b's face, driving away with tears blurring your vision.
AT THE PARTY
you strut your way into the party, the annual bonfire that happens the same week every year. you grab a pink solo cup and fill it to the brim with jungle juice. you had already pregamed before and begged your friend to drive you here, laughing at yourself when you caught yourself tripping over the pile of beer cans on the floor. obvious that you were feeling the effects of the weed and alcohol combining.
you were tired, physically and mentally, you couldnt deal with anyones bullshit anymore. especially after what happened earlier in the day, you just needed a break.
“what are you doing here ?” you heard a voice question from behind, you turned and saw rafe cameron looking at you up and down.
“oh hey rafey, nothing honestly just trying to forget shit you know ?” you down the rest of your drink and turn again to retrieve another cup. before you can take a sip out of it, it gets knocked down by rafe. who angrily walks over to john b and sarah cameron who were conversing with each other in the corner.
oh shit
“the fuck are you doing bro? chill.” john b says and backs up. sarah tries to intervene by calling his name and you just stand there interested in what was about to happen.
“you feel good about yourself ??” rafe pushes john b, getting ready to instigate a fight. you fight the urge to run up and defend your man. but you stayed still.
this is what he deserves
sarah cameron stops her brother in his tracks and tries to stop him, he ignores her.
oh yeah try to get him to stop, cheater.
“looks like you got my sloppy seconds... good luck with that. shes a real handful” john b insensitively says, rafe continues his way toward him. and within a second throws a hard punch to his face. john b falls to the ground and rafe looks over him.
“you like that shit johnny ? huh ?” he moves and hovers over john b's body, and continues to beat him unconscious. kiaras dad finally pulls them apart, and you walk over to rafe checking to see if he was okay. sarah starts to angrily push rafe, but he doesnt budge.
“sarah you better stop that shit before you end up on the ground just like john b.” you glared at her angrily and pushed her away before gently grabbing rafes arm and walking away with him.
……..
“jeez rafe you really fucked him up…” you said while wiping the blood off his knuckles with disinfectant. he winces when you finishes it off with ointment.
“yeah i dont know what i was thinking, i just.. its just that he pisses me off so much an-” rafe drunkingly rambled, you hesitated. but then losing to your own thoughts you grab his face and kiss him. you quickly pull away fluttering your lashes, mouth slightly open. taking short deep breaths in and out, nothing but the sound of waves crashing could be heard.
“fuck im sorry.” your voice cracked, tears forming in your eyes. you even shocked yourself with that action, moving your hand from your face you fidget with your bikini top. rafe then gently grabs your face and makes eye contact, kissing back but with more passion. everything in the room starts to blur and your focus is only on him. he pulls away and begins to hover over you. cornering you further into the plush couch.
“nah don’t apologize.. just kiss me back” rafe whispers into your ear making his way down to your neck, giving it light kisses and sucks. his hands wander around your body, you begin to grow desperate and grind yourself onto his thigh, hands rubbing his back. you grabbed his hair to pull him closer to you, he groans in response.
"you dont understand how badly i want you.." he kisses you deeper.
"..how badly i wanted to do this." he backs up and takes off his shirt, his abs and buff body glistening from the ocean water combined with the low light of the moon. he lowers himself and his hands reach for your bottoms, untying them then tossing them onto the floor.
your breathing hitches when you feel his cool breath on your pussy, rafes arms grab at your thighs and spread your legs open.
"oh fuckkk" you lightly moaned when you felt his tongue on your clit making slow but rough licks. rafe laughs and moans into you, sending vibrations throughout your whole body. he looks up at your and makes eye contact with your glossy glazed over eyes.
"you taste so fucking good." he continues to lap at your juices, you looked at the blonde. dazed and memorized by how pretty he was. forgetting all your worries and troubles because of how good he worked his mouth. it was over for you when you felt his fingers prod at your entrance.
the combination of his long thick fingers sliding in and out of your wet pussy and his mouth on your clit drove you over the edge.
"fuck, you gonna cum f'me? please cum baby." he slurps and fingers you faster, your chest heaves up and down before you cum all over his face and make a mess. but rafe doesnt stop there, he removes his fingers and uses both his arms to hold your legs open. continuing to eat you out.
"oh my go- fu- please.. too much! rafe please sto-" you mewl trying to close your legs to no avail.
"uh uh stay still f'me" rafe tuts, eventually he stops and gets up, his mouth and chin dripping with your juices. he grabs your jaw and kisses you before taking off his shorts, the classic calvin klein banding accentuates his v line and you could see his bulge.
you sit up and your fingers hook at the band and pull his boxers down, immediately his cock springs up and hits his stomach. your eyes widened.
"its not gonna fit." you say, his tip is leaking with precum and you fight the urge to swallow him whole right then and there.
"dont worry it will." his hand pushes you back down and he uses his knees to spread your legs. rafe starts to rub himself up and down your pussy, circuling his tip around your clit. and you let out a satisfied hum. he was fighting the urge to just shove himself completely inside you and fuck you deep into the couch. rafe eyes your phone, and leans over to grab it.
he hovers the phone over your face and unlocks it, opening your messages app. he clicks on john bs contact and sees that he left 30+ texts, laughing at the idiot rafe then clicks on the camera feature.
“rafe w-what are you doing?" you asked, closing your legs shyly. your eyebrows furrowing in confusion.
"dont worry, just trust me." rafe responds, leaning down to kiss you sloppily before he pressed record on the camera. using his free hand to push your thighs apart he moves the camera closer to your bodies, your lower body and his are in view. rafe then uses his fingers to spread your lips, showing the camera your slick. he slides two fingers inside you and gives it a few pumps before he removed them.
"open up f'me." he gently taps your cheek and slides the two fingers into your now open mouth. his long fingers caressing your tongue, automatically you start to suck his fingers. cleaning them.
"thats it... good job baby." he admires the way your plump swollen lips wrapped around his fingers, at this point his cock was aching in need to pump you full of his cum. he must have you.
"please rafe.. need you." you whined and looked up at him, watery eyed and pupils blown. you desperately moved your hips, and thank god he started to rub your aching pussy with his cock again. the both of you were hungry and needy. gentle whines filled the room, and rafe eventually slid himself in.
"youre so tight, holy shit. mmmmm." bottoming out he stayed there for a moment to let you adjust. he was so long and thick, you felt every vein on it in your walls. you seriously had nothing to say, no words could have been let out to describe what you were feeling right now. pure ecstasy.
the both of you continued to say nothing as rafe sped up, drilling harder and faster into your wet pussy. his balls slapping against you ass, nothing could be heard besides moaning and the sound of his rough thrusts. you could barely see anything aside from rafes figure but you were sure that his back and biceps were now covered in scratch marks from you. the bright flash of the camera blinding you, you've never been filmed like this before. and the thought of you being slut out on camera made you even more wet.
"such a good fucking slut for me, youre takin' me so well." his free hand gripping tight on the fat of your hips to guide himself against your sweet spot.
"oh FUCK!" you let out a combination of a moan and scream when he continued to hit that spot, the knot in your stomach growing tighter.
"does your ex fuck you like this?" he slows down his pace, but you were too fucked up to respond.
"huh?" he asked and slid out just to snap hips back into you bringing you back to reality.
"no! oh fu- youre so much bigger.." you moaned, your pussy leaving a white ring at the base of rafes cock.
"yes yes yes. ah!" you whined when he sped up, which you didnt think was possible. rafe was pounding you so hard you were seeing stars. your hand went to cover your mouth but rafe slapped it away, and put it on your lower stomach.
"dont do that i wanna hear you moan f'me."
"you feel that?" rafe asked, you could see his cock bulging from your stomach.
"god- squeezing me so fucking tight..." rafe grunted, and lowered his hand to rub circles on your clit. your mouth slack and open, boobs bouncing up and down from rafes thrusts.
rafe wasnt even sure if he was getting all of this on frame, he was jackhammering into you like he hated you. he relished in the way your cunt clenched around him like you were made for him. and he was sure you were. all perfect, pretty and stupid for him.
"rafe i feel like im gonna pee, stop!" you screamed out and gripped his bicep. your stomach burned in pleasure and you felt like it was going to explode.
"pl-please oh my god, oh... my"
"thats it baby, squirt all over my fucking cock. youre so pretty like this." your eyes started water even more, he was fucking you so good you stared crying. overwhelmed with all sorts of emotions and feelings.
"so cute when you cry for me, if you keep doing that im gonna cum inside you." embarrassed you turn your head away and shake your head, the squelching and sight of your cunt was so sloppy and messy. rafe gripped your jaw and forced you to look at the camera.
"open your eyes sweetheart, keep looking at me." his fingers made their way down to your throat and squeezed.
"fuck." he whimpered, rafe has never done that before. the both of you were shocked but youve never been turned on this much.
"mmm keep doing that, you sound so fucking hot rafe." you urged him.
"im gonna cum, can i cum inside you? please baby" he begged, his thrusts becoming less controlled.
"yes, fuck. i need you to fill me right now. i wanna see your cum dripping out of me, breed me." the both of you were whiney, your cheeks were wet and your legs were shaking and sore.
"shit, you are so perfect.. this pussys so p-perfect." rafes body was tired, rutting into you like you were nothing but a fleshlight. his tip twitching inside you before he came deep into your cervix, making sure to push every ounce of his seed inside you before pulling out. and filming your dripping cunt before he ended the video.
rafe didnt have evil intentions but he wanted to let john b know what he lost, who would want to miss out on a girl like you?
*attached video*
"shes busy rn bro"
5 hours later you were laying next to a knocked out rafe, finally sobering up you went to check your phone. the most recent message being from none other than your ex.
why is he spam texting me?
"what the fuck? youre such a bitch" the text read, confused and curious you decided to scroll up. only to get surprised by a video of you and rafe from earlier. you dropped the phone in shock and turned to see rafe who woke up from the sudden sound. you picked your phone back up and shoved the phone into rafes face.
Pairing: pornproducer!rafecameron x starlet!reader
Summary: For the price of fame, you give your body to porn producer, Rafe Cameron.
Warnings: 18+ smut ( p in v ), semi-public sex, unprotected sex, praise kink, pet names, Reader gets her body examined, fingering, cursing, Naive reader(?), filming sex, Rafe takes advantage of reader for the sake of "fame", Rafe's kinda a sleazeball/manipulative in this, hinted reader is a stripper
Word count: 2.2k
You feel a twinge of embarrassment as you make eye contact with the woman standing in the corner of the room. You recognize her as the one who spotted you at ValleyDolls Lounge, the woman who told you, "Rafe Cameron can make you a star," while handing you a business card with just a telephone number on it.
You notice the woman's lack of interest as Rafe's muscular hand gropes your plump left breast, and with his slender fingers, he pinches your nipple.
Your nipple pebbles at the exposure of his pinch, and you feel your body hairs prickle up at the exposure of the ceiling fan that spins over your head.
"You uh, you aren't a mother are you?" He asks, his hands now roaming down to your nether lips. You suck your teeth at the feeling of the cool breeze prickle your pussy as Rafe uses his thump to pull your left fold back.
"No, sir." You try to say with confidence, but ultimately, your voice comes out coaxed in a shaky fear.
"I can tell." Rafe mutters, face inching closer and closer to your cunt.
You resist the urge to close your legs consciously, but the option to do so has been prohibited, as Rafe's hand, the one not examining your pussy, holds a tight grip on your hitched knee.
For a second, you look up at the spiraling ceiling and let out a long sigh to calm your bustling nerves. Looking away from the ceiling fan, cerulean eyes beam at you in interest.
"You have a pretty pussy." Rafe boyishly smiles at you, now keeping his hands to himself.
You blush at his words as getting told you have a "Pretty Pussy" isn't something you're complimented on a daily, so naturally, you hide your blush behind the palm of your hand.
"Would you agree?" Rafe asks, now going into the black duffle bag beside his desk.
"Huh?"
"Do you think you have a pretty cunt." This time, Rafe restated with a tantalizing tone, telling you you had no choice but to agree, so you nodded.
"Good." Rafe smiles. "Not a lot of girls can say that, you're one of the lucky ones."
From the duffle bag, Rafe pulls out a chunky camera--the kind they shoot movies with. Hence, a smile began to form on your lips. From the sight of the camera and from Rafe calling you "Lucky."
The butterflies in your stomach went up the octave at the sight of the camera; this was going to be your big break.
Rafe calls to the woman in the corner: "Hey, Sarah, do me a favor and tell all the other girls waiting in the hall to come back tomorrow. I want to focus on Y/N today." He smirks.
And just as the woman--Sarah--goes to do so, while turning the doorknob of Rafe's office, Rafe tells her: "Oh, and don't bother me for the next hour or so, and let everyone else know that as well."
Though he'd been talking to Sarah, Rafe's eyes stayed on you the entire time, causing the butterflies to multiply.
When Sarah's gone, silence takes its course as Rafe sets up his camera, facing the lens to the plush white couch on the side of Rafe's office.
The silence makes you remember that you were wholly bare and how odd it had been, so you ask Rafe if you could put your clothes back on.
"Y'know, it's not normal for pretty women like you to be ashamed of her body."
As your eyebrows begin to curve in an upward pout, and you start to protest, Rafe tells you:
"It's really off-putting for a guy like me."
"W-what is that supposed to mean?" You question.
Rafe motions his head for you to take a seat on the couch, and you do so, hopping off the edge of his desk (where you were once getting examined on), bare feet plopping on the cold tiled ground of Rafe's office.
As you sit on the couch, Rafe stands behind the camera lens, half of his face covered by the camera.
"What I mean is: You being ashamed of being naked in front of me means you're not ready to be a star." Rafe says in a condescending tone.
"I'm am ready to be a star!" you protest. "I swear!"
You didn't tell Rafe that you could recite any type of monologue-- a soliloquy, dramatic, or operatic--but something told you this isn't what Rafe wanted to hear.
"Really?" He smirks. You nod your head as if you were a bobble head. "Prove it to me." Rafe says.
Right then, you notice the camera's red light blinks on and off, meaning he is now recording.
"You ever fucked on camera before?" Rafe asks you.
You hadn't before, so you shake your head 'no'.
"Have you ever fucked ever, before?" He then goes to asks.
You had yet to have a long list of guys like the girls you worked with at ValleyDolls lounge, something you always felt slightly embarrassed about.
You tell Rafe your body count: a whopping number of two.
And behind the camera, you can see Rafe beginning to smile.
"So you're not ran through." He mutters to himself, which you don't think was meant for your ears.
"I could tell your pussy was tight." He says snobbishly.
"Really? How so?" you naively ask Rafe, intrigued by his all-knowing of this without ever being inside you.
Rafe takes this opportunity to step from behind the camera and sit beside you on the couch.
"Open your legs for me," he tells you, and as you do so, Rafe praises you with a "Good Girl."
Without warning, Rafe takes his pointer and middle finger, lightly tracing it down the flesh of your stomach and to your core, where he goes to plunge them inside of your cunt, but as foreseen, you're too tight, and Rafe can only get one finger in.
"See, told you, you're too tight. I don't know how you're going to be able to take a dick inside of you."
Your cunt burns at Rafe's impeccable intrusion, and you feel yourself let out a little mewl as Rafe teases your core by curling his finger deep inside of you.
"Doesn't this feel good, Y/N?"
You shyly nod, something in your mind telling you that this isn't right, but fuck, why did Rafe's one finger have to feel so good? And why did knowing you were being filmed on camera turn you on so much?
Besides, this was for your dream of becoming a star, anyway.
"There you go, sweetheart. Now you're starting to relax." Rafe coos as the sound of your gushy cunt accompanies the noises of your little pants and moans.
"I'm going to add another finger." Rafe warns you.
And as said, Rafe plunges another finger in, simultaneously stretching you out for his dick and making you feel oh, so good.
Your gummy walls take on the shape of Rafe's thick, slender fingers as they pump in and out of you relentlessly—your muscles contract around him.
Unconsciously, you squirm and wiggle out of his grip, opening and closing your legs at Rafe's never-ending pleasurable assault.
He gets stern with you and pry your legs open, telling you to be a "good girl." and "let the camera see your pussy."
You open your legs a little wider, leaving more room for Rafe's fingers to sink deeper inside your cunt.
"m'feels so good, Rafe " You whine out.
"Really, sweetheart? It feels good?" Rafe says condescendingly, and you nod pathetically.
Gathering slick from your weeping pussy, Rafe uses your juices to circle your clit with his thump. The pad of his calloused thump brings a burning sensation widespread across your entire body.
"Y'know, Y/N." Rafe slowly says, fingers still pumping inside of you. "I'm still finding it hard to believe that you really want to be a star."
"I do--" you wince as Rafe pushes down on your pulsating little bundle of nerves.
"I don't know," he contemplates. I'm just still not sold." He fake thinks, "unless you can prove me otherwise..."
As if on cue, he slowly pulls his fingers out of you. Rafe manages to peek at his fingers, covered in your arousal, before looking down into your wide, doll-like eyes.
And if it weren't for the gritty smirk on his face or the way Rafe had slightly man spread his legs a little wider and placed his hand over his clothed, hardening cock, you wouldn't have understood what he was suggesting.
And as Rafe slowly leans you back onto the couch, he is still clothed, but his pants are pulled down just enough to release his pulsing dick; Rafe tells you as if it were scripted: "Don't be ashamed, sweetheart. How else do you think all the other women in Hollywood got their start?"
He's right, you tell yourself.
So you slowly nodded as Rafe placed a warm kiss on your dome. Right after, you feel him grab his length and align his reddening tip towards your sobbing, wet entrance.
It isn't long until you feel the slow-burning--the feeling of Rafe's fat cock penetrating inside of you deep; it prompted you to let out the prettiest moan Rafe had ever heard in his years as a pornographer.
You didn't know what to do with your arms, so you wrapped them around Rafe's body, bringing him closer to you, while Rafe's muscular hands placed themselves on your hips to hold you in place.
"Fu-ck.." Rafe drags, his eyes rolling to the back of his head.
"Best fucking pussy ever."
God, it was like you were a fucking virgin again with how big Rafe's cock felt inside of you and the way your pussy tightly squeezed it as if your life depended on it.
A wave of pleasure washed over you as his thick shaft stretched and filled every inch of you. Your body tingled with excitement and anticipation, your senses heightened by the overwhelming sensation—a rush of desire coursing through your veins, leaving you breathless and craving more.
"More." You managed to choke out as Rafe's cock penetrated your core. Stomach fluttering at each intrusion.
Your senses were overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of the moment as pleasure radiated through every inch of your body. Each thrust sent waves of ecstasy coursing through you, pushing you closer to the edge of blissful release.
Dark eyes stared at your twitching face. Rafe chuckles at you because "God, who knew you were such a cock slut, taking me so well in this little tight cunt of yours."
The lewd sounds of your passionate encounter heightened the intensity of the moment, fueling your desire and deepening your and Rafe's connection. Each moan, grunt, and slap of skin served as a powerful affirmation of your mutual pleasure, enveloping you both in a world of eroticism and ecstasy.
As your bodies moved in sync, your whispers of desire mingled with the intoxicating aroma of passion. "I've never felt anything like this before," you confessed, your voice filled with awe and longing, causing Rafe to let out a loud groan.
"Fuck, they're going to love you." Rafe grunts, making a smile grow on your lips. "Or maybe I'll keep you for myself." He says lowly. "Use you as my personal little fuck toy, wouldn't you like that sweetheart?"
Caught off guard, you blurted out, "I'm gonna cum," before Rafe drew closer. His face hovered just above yours, his hands moving to the back of your neck. Hot, eager breaths mingled as your lips nearly met.
At that moment, waves of pleasure surged through your body, overpowering your senses and causing your muscles to tremble uncontrollably.
The intensity of the experience left you in a state of euphoria. Still, the awareness of your surroundings brought a mix of embarrassment and excitement, forcing you to stifle your moans and contain the raw energy that had consumed you.
And like a domino effect, after you came, shortly after Rafe came, his muscles tightened, his back arching like a drawn bow, before he suddenly released, his head falling forward as he climaxed--his milky spunk painting your walls white.
He stayed inside you for a moment, breathless and dizzy; your eyelids fluttered as both of your minds went blank.
And after catching his breath, Rafe springs off of you.
"Put your clothes back on." he says sternly, demeanor seeming to change from when he was just praising you about how good your pussy is.
Suddenly, your demeanor shifted as you became overwhelmed by feelings of illness and self-disgust.
You slowly walk to your pile of clothes at the foot of Rafe's desk.
"Hurry up." Rafe rushes. "I don't have all day."
As you quickly put your clothes back on, from the side of your eye, you notice Rafe take a sticky note from his desk and scribble a few words with a black pen.
"Here," he tells you, just as you put on your clothes. "Be at this address by 7 a.m. sharp, no later. We can start your filming and make you a star." He winks.
And as you hesitantly take the sticky note, you think this isn't the type of star you want to be.
But, on the contrary...
As you exit Rafe's office, your mind drifts to the countless times you've fantasized about being in the spotlight and achieving fame. With this opportunity, your dream finally seems within reach - all thanks to Rafe Cameron.
Rafe, Kelce, Topper and you. For as long as you could remember, the four of you have been inseparable. For as long as you could remember, you were also in love with your best friend, Rafe. You always told yourself that it was a teenage thing, that you'd grow out of it, and for most of the time, it felt like you could.
The moment your mother marries Ward Cameron should have been the moment your life changes for the better. A fresh start out of the Cut for the both of you. And for the first seven years of living with the Camerons, everything truly is perfect.
