ᥫ᭡

thinking bout you

[ssugartalkin]

how could we know that this was a happy disaster? ariana grande. 19. she/her. digital cameras. blowouts. audrey hepburn. drew starkey. imperfect for you. floral patterns. gold jewellery. bracelet stacks. drewiana. madison beer.

[kooksandpearls]

rafe cameron 𖦹 faster!

pairing – rafe cameron x reader summary – rafe learns that “faster” sounds very different depending on whether it’s said on the back of his bike or underneath him. warnings – 18+, sexual content, motorcycle scene, unsafe/reckless driving, speed, adrenaline, suggestive dialogue. notes from me – requested by my bby @theycallherl0ve 😌 thank u diva word count – 0.9k

navigation – masterlist |

The first time she screams, it gets eaten by the helmet and the wind and the ugly, thrilled roar of Rafe Cameron’s bike tearing down the back road. Her arms are locked around his middle so tightly her fingers have started to ache through the fabric of his shirt, thighs clamped on either side of the bike, cheek pressed to the warm curve of his back while the whole world turns into salt air and engine heat and sun-struck blur. 

Trees flash green at the edges of her vision. The road opens silver and empty ahead of them. Rafe leans into a curve with the kind of confidence only available to boys who have never properly believed in consequences, and her stomach lifts clean into her throat.

“Rafe!” she shrieks, laughing so hard it comes out broken. “Oh my God, slow down!”

He can’t hear her properly. She knows he can’t, because the engine is too loud and her voice is trapped inside her helmet and the wind is ripping at every loose part of her, but he feels her. He always feels her. Feels the way she shoves her helmet between his shoulder blades, the way her arms tighten around his ribs, the way she half-smacks his stomach with one flat palm in outrage. 

His shoulders shake once, laughter moving through his body before it reaches the air, and then because he’s terrible and beautiful and missing whatever internal mechanism tells normal people to be nice to girls who are clinging to them for their actual lives, he twists the throttle.

The bike surges. She screams again, louder, pure scandalised joy punching out of her as the road drops beneath them and Rafe laughs properly this time, head tipping just enough that she catches the sharp line of his grin beneath the edge of his helmet. “Rafe Cameron, I swear to God–”

“What?” he calls back, voice rough with laughter. “You said faster?”

“I said slower, you psycho!”

He lifts one hand off the handlebar for half a second to pat her locked fingers against his stomach, patronising and fond enough to make her want to bite through leather. “Hold on then, baby.”

She does. Obviously. She holds on like the wind might take him first and her after, laughing into the back of him, furious with adrenaline, face hot under the helmet, pulse everywhere at once. 

By the time he finally eases off near the dunes, coasting slower with the engine still growling beneath them, her whole body is humming. Rafe turns his head, smug even in profile.

“Still alive,” he says.

She presses her helmet into his back, breathless and warm and already smiling. “Barely.”

He laughs. “Drama.”

The second time she’s screaming, there’s no wind to steal it. Only his room at night, hot and dark around the edges, the fan clicking above them like it’s trying to mind its business and failing. 

Rafe’s over her, all heavy breath and bare shoulders, one hand braced beside her head and the other hooked under her thigh where she’s wrapped herself around his waist like she’s still trying not to fall off something moving too fast. 

The sheets are wrecked beneath them. Her hair is stuck to her neck. His mouth is at her jaw, then her throat, then back at her mouth when she says his name like she’s lost patience.

“Faster,” she gasps, fingers digging into his back. “Rafe– fuck, faster, baby.”

He goes still for half a second. Pausing just enough for the words to land somewhere smug and electric inside him. His head lifts. His eyes are dark in the low light, blue swallowed almost completely, mouth wet from hers and curving in that awful way that means she’s handed him a weapon and he intends to be unbearable about it.

“Oh, yeah?” he says, breath rough, voice dragged low with effort. “Now we’re faster, huh?”

A laugh breaks out of her, helpless and breathy. Of course he finds the joke in it while she’s under him trying to keep her brain functioning. “Uh-huh,” she manages, nodding, legs tightening around his waist. “Now faster.”

His grin flashes, mean and delighted and so stupidly pretty she could hate him for it if her body had room for anything except wanting. “Thought I was a psycho.”

“You are.”

“Thought you wanted me to slow down.”

“Rafe.”

“What?” He dips his head, kissing the corner of her mouth, then her cheek, too sweet for someone currently ruining her. “M’just listening.”

“You’re never listening.”

“I’m listening now.”

Then he moves, and the rest of her sentence disappears into his shoulder as she cries out, one hand flying to the back of his neck, the other twisting in the sheets. He laughs against her skin, she can feel exactly how affected he is in every rough breath, every tightening muscle, every messy loss of rhythm when she says his name again – because Rafe has always loved being asked for the thing he was trying not to give too much of.

“Like that?” he murmurs, mouth brushing her ear.

She nods too fast, half-laughing, half-moaning, nails scraping lightly down his back. “Yeah. Like that.”

His hand slides higher on her thigh, holding her closer, anchoring her under him with a care that would be almost tender if he didn’t look so pleased with himself. “Hold on then, baby,” he says again, voice rough and warm and wrecked around the edges.

So she does.

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[rafesproperty]

Hi! Could you write something where exewb!rafe (ex enemies with benefits in case the acronym is too confusing🫠) gets in a fight at a party and pogue!reader insist on helping him treat his wounds even tho she "hates him" and aren't even hooking up anymore. And rafe is all cocky and teasing her because he wants her back, and they could end up hooking up ir idk whatever you want

Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader smut

Rafe and you used to hook up, then he messed up and now you’re alone with his stubborn ass in a small bathroom, still taking care of him despite everything…

Warnings: smut, choking, size kink, violence, some angst but good ending, swearing

Note: Thank you for the request! I included them having feelings for each other despite being enemies the whole time, enjoy! ♡

» masterlist

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

It’s been a while since you last saw Rafe, or paid him much mind, really. You managed to heal over these past few months, leaving the toxic not-relationship with him in the past. It was never meant to start in the first place, considering his hatred towards everything in your life, including your beliefs, friends, lifestyle, and everything to do with your identity. Rafe? Didn’t move on at all.

He realised he fucked up right immediately after said you’re nothing to him. It wasn’t the truth, but he only realised after you vanished from his life. He only realised he was spiraling over missing your presence once it wasn’t there anymore. He started to abuse drugs a lot more since then.

That bonfire was at first like any other. Pogues and kooks gathered together, still snickering at each other but somewhat living in harmony for one night, a lot of alcohol, weed and wasted teenagers around. At first, you came with your friends, but they quickly got into a fight and ran off, something they’ve been doing a lot lately.

You just wandered around. You noticed Rafe with his friends immediately, they were loud as usual, reckless and drowning in the attention and praise from anyone afraid of them, or afraid of Rafe, to be specific. Your eyes locked with his for a moment, remembering the night before, the endless moans and sloppy thrusts against you, how he whispered praises to your ear and kissed you harsh at first, but melted into the kiss then.

“You feel s— s’damn good, made for me huh?” He gave the spot under your ear a bite and then kissed it softly. You were the only one to feel what was underneath that shell of anger and douche behaviour. When the doors closed behind you two and you’d be catching breath in the dark nights he’d be caring. He made sure you made it home safe, he usually couldn’t be bothered to drive you himself but he’d give you enough money for an uber and didn’t go to sleep ‘till you texted him you’re safe. One time you opened up about things being hard at home and he picked you up just so you wouldn’t have to listen to your parents screaming. Sure, it ended in you two having sex but a part of you thought he didn’t just do it for that. You saw how he was with his dad, or rather how harsh Ward was with his son.

And most importantly you learned how lonely Rafe really was. His friends were just… people around him. His family was being hard on him. At the end of the day he had no one, and you saw how broken he really was. But in your mind Rafe didn’t see anything in you beyond being a pogue. Just a… body he could release the tension with. You couldn’t be farther from the truth, but how were you supposted to know? He never slipped, never really took off the mask; besides a few soft touches and whispers in the dark.

You looked away, minding your own business. At least tried to. As you were grabbing a drink from a table near them, two girls tried to throw themselves at him, cooing compliments his way and both watching him with sparkly eyes. Something sharp stabbed your chest. Rafe told them to fuck off the second they touched him, tho… Grabbed one of the girls wrists and yanked it off him in a movement so harsh she yelped and looked at him with fear.

You noticed he didn’t really pay any attention to women around him lately. Apparently so did his friends. “Man, that was a golden ticket to a sweet three-way,” Kelce scolded Rafe, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

“Whatever,” Rafe mumbled and took a sip of his own drink.

“He’s right, bro,” Topper tapped his shoulder, “if you keep scaring all the kook girls off you’ll have to fuck some dirty pogue.” Topper shook his head, and stumbled on his feet from that movement, too wasted to even stay still.

Rafe frowned slightly and his eyes roamed over your figure again, he didn’t say anything, but his eyes lingered on you too long, and they noticed.

Rafe noticed their looks and before they could say some stupid shit again, he scoffed. “Yeah, wouldn’t want that.” He dragged the words and looked you in your eyes.

Bastard. But if he thought shit-talking you right in front of you was going to work for him, he was wrong. You raised an eyebrow and went over to them with the drink in your hand. “What makes you think I’d be interested a sleazy snob?”

Kelce and Topper let out an impressed ohhh, getting amused by anything like toddlers. They expected Rafe to treat you like anyone who dared open their mouth against him, scream, spat, or in the least call you names and tell you to fuck off. Rafe just chuckled. “M’pretty sure you’d beg on your knees for me, sweetheart.”

His eyes sparkled, remembering you on your knees for him, in multiple occasions. You always talked back to him, told him to go to hell, and willingly choked on his cock anyway.

You wanted to spat something back at him, but Topper cleared his throat. “We could’ve lit the damn fire with the sparks flying off you two.”

In that moment you and Rafe both snapped out of raising eyebrows and eye-fucking eachother, frowning.

“Bullshit.” Rafe mumbled and turned his back to you, returning to whatever activities the kooks were up to before. You sighed annoyed and left the situation as well.

Some time went by, more alcohol was spilled, more people got wasted and left or came to join. You were chatting with a guy, Nolan, he was a pogue, a shy yet intelligent guy, a bit skimmish but handsome regardless. He was scratching the back of his neck, trying to explain to you something about space, and you were wasted enough to actually find it interesting. Or maybe he was just hot, so anything he was yapping about to you sounded good.

He was hot, yes, but there was a spark missing to him. You weren’t planning on anything, also not really interested in any guys now, Rafe fucked you so hard each night to the point you didn’t even have any energy left in you anyway, but just talking to someone handsome and well-spoken was nice.

Rafe was watching for a while now, hands restless with taps, shakes or the need to fidget with something. His pupils were blown from the mix of alcohol and multiple drugs he took that night, and his mind was foggy. He stopped caring about staying calm, and stormed off to you, pushing Nolan off, towering over him, using his much bigger body to it’s adventage. “Get fucking lost.” He spat in his face, shoving him away from you.

You froze, not expecting Rafe to do this… not here, not around so many people. To your even bigger surprise Nolan actually spat back, glaring up at Rafe. “Why the fuck would I? She your girl?” He asked mockingly.

Rafe grabbed his collar, and threw him backwards, he was ready to throw himself at the guy and probably break a few of his bones, but Topper and Kelce held him back. Nolan gave you a look in the midst of it all, rubbing his shoulder. “You coming?”

But you didn’t move. You just gave the tiniest shake of your head and Nolan finally left with a scoff. Topper and Kelce looked at each other, and then let go of their grips on Rafe. “The fuck was that?”

“Yeah, bro, are you and the pogue—“

“Shut the fuck up,” Rafe shoved them both off him, ignoring peoples attention on him. Pretty much everyone was staring now, all kooks, pogues, anyone here saw his little tantrum over you.

All that fuss over you, all those eyes on you now, only for him to say “As if I’d get with some fucking pogue. She’s nothing.” He spat and went off, leaving you there, with all the eyes on you and a poisonous feeling in your chest.

You left the party right away and approximately two minutes after the whole scene Rafe was spamming your phone for the rest of the night.

22:46

Ray: Where are you?

Ray: Meet me down the street, let’s go to mine

22:51

Ray: Hey

22:54

Ray: Heyyyyyyy

22:57

Ray: K whatever

23:02

Ray: You actually wanted to fuck him?

Ray: Fuck you

Ray: Whore

23:14

Ray: Srsly where the fuck r you???

23:17

Ray: I’m sorry

Ray: Just want you here

23:26

Ray: Cut the bullshit

23:46

Ray: I’m sorry

00:03

Ray: I’m coming over

00:21

Ray: Why the fuck aren’t you home

00:47

Ray: Slut

Ray: Fuck you

03:27

Ray: I’m sorry

And on top of that, countless missed calls. But that was it for you. You didn’t go home, spent the night with your pogue friends over at the Chateau, and never texted Rafe again, didn’t pick his phone calls and ignored him when he tried to talk to you. Eventually he stopped trying, but whenever he saw you again, his eyes would linger too long.

Four months of bliss and peace from his toxic ass.

“Fuck off,” he mumbled and pulled away from you, his whole body shaking from anger.

“Shut the fuck up and sit down,” you snarled at him and he rolled his eyes, but sat down on the bathtub just to get rid of you as soon as possible. You climbed in between his legs and harshly cleaned his cuts and wounds, but he didn’t even flinch.

“You’re a fucking loser, y’know that?” He mumbled and you pressed into one of the wounds, this time he did twitch a bit. “No, I mean it. Takin’ care of the guy who treated you like shit…” he mumbled, aiming it more at himself. You stopped for a second, thinking about what he said.

“At least you reali—“ you wanted to say but he cut you off.

“You miss my dick that badly?” He looked up at you with a grin.

“Shut up.”

“No, no. You followed me like a horny dog, others can’t fuck you that good?” He kept rambling.

“Rafe.” You warned him but he only grinned again, amused that he was getting to you.

“Well, I miss fucking you too, y’know.” He whispered like it was a big secret and you rolled your eyes… not allowing him to see that your stomach flipped and your knees got weaker.

“I don’t, you were pretty mid.” You scoffed and he laughed this time.

“Yeah? That’s why you were shaking and crying for more every time?” He whispered as he leaned closer to you. He was so tall that even when he was sitting down his head was almost at level with yours.

He softly kissed your collarbone, inhaling your scent that he missed so much.

“Stop it,” you pulled back from him and shoved on his shoulder. He actually whined, spoiled fucking kid, you thought, can’t handle not getting something he wants. You took his hand in yours to clean off his bloody knuckles, and he just smiled to himself, being smart for once and shutting up, enjoying the touch.

You didn’t even know why you were here, with Rafe instead of JJ. Of course out of all the people, Rafe had to jump after one of your friends. They messed each other up bad, both bleeding. JJ had broken ribs and blood running down his nose and mouth, he ended up worse but JJ had Kiara and Sarah running towards him and Rafe had no one there.

You were frozen when his shaky and wet eyes met yours. He was so angry, but you also knew, so alone. Fuck. You went over to him and shoved his back towards the bathroom.

“You’re so fucking stupid.” You said now, wiping blood off his lip.

“Fuckin’ hate him,” he mumbled and closed his eyes under your touch, his hand finding the back of your thigh and squeezing that spot, his thumb drawing circles into your skin, right below your ass. You let him.

“I know, you hate all pogues.” You mumbled, annoyed with him and pulled on his hair harshly to make him lean his head back so you could finish cleaning off the blood staining his chin. Rafe let out a satisfied sound at the rough tug, but frowned when your words settled.

He wanted to tell you he didn’t hate you. That he could never hate you. That you were the only thing on his mind to the point he might actually start hating you tho. Instead, he let his mind spill other words. “Do you fuck him?”

“What?” You stopped cleaning his chin and looked at him, frowning and ready to beat the shit out of him too. His squeeze at your thigh became firmer, and he looked at you again.

“JJ, do you let JJ fuck what’s mine,” he mumbled again and brushed his nose against the pulse on your neck, missing how he used to bite that spot freely. He let out a weak breath, warming up your skin.

“No,” you replied simply.

Rafe exhaled again, and used his free hand to tap against your wrist, “and someone else?” His fingers wrapped around your wrist, squeezing. He could probably cut off your blood flow if you gave him an answer he didn’t like.

“No, Ray.”

He closed his eyes then and pushed on your thigh to pull you against him, you almost stumbled, and he took the first aid kit from your hands. He hadn’t heard you call him that in so long. Maybe he did hate you, because you made him hate his name. Just Rafe all the time, never Ray.

He placed the first aid kit somewhere behind himself and grabbed both your thighs from behind, lifting you up and forcing you to sit on his lap, the impact of being pushed onto his bulge harsh. One hand then squeezed your hip, glueing you down to him and the other found your chin, squeezing it, forcing you to look at him.

His lap felt too good, the bulge brushing against you, his much bigger body still somehow fitting perfectly under yours, you let out a shaky breath and looked into his eyes, his eyelids heavy and shaky staring at you, as he used his hand on your waist to force you to move against him.

“You fuckin’ left me,” he hissed at you, and squeezed your chin harder. It hurt. Instead of flinching away from him, you rocked your hips and whined when you felt him brush against your already throbbing clit.

“You deserved it, asshole.”

Rafe groaned in response, he pulled you in for a kiss, biting your lower lip, and immediately sliding his tongue into your mouth, messy, desperate, and irritated. You whined against his mouth again and allowed him. You kissed him back just as messily, biting his lip back.

Rafe chuckled and stood up with you, his hands holding your body against his still, and he pushed you against the sink, your back hitting the faucet.

“Ow,” you arched your back.

Rafe rolled his eyes. “Fragile little thing, hm?” His hands pulled your legs apart with force, his body sliding between them and he lifted your dress up, finding your soaking pussy with his fingers already.

“Fuck, baby—“ He gasped into your mouth, biting your lip again, feeling his dick twitch from how soaked you made his hand already.

He pulled you in for another kiss and let his fingers slide inside you with his rings still on, caressing your spongy walls and pumping them in and out slowly. You sucked on his tongue, and moaned against his mouth in pleasure, his fingers already stretching you out good enough to make you come.

His cold rings sent shivers down your spine. You looked down to where your dress was lifted, and his big fingers were pushing in and out of you, soaked so much a few drops fell on the floor.

Just the look at his hand, his veins, his fingers inside you made you shake and squirm, moving your own hips against his hand.

“Shhh, nuh-uh, you made me suffer all this fuckin’ time, you’ll not come that easy.” He pulled back then, leaving you suddenly empty, and you groaned weakly, pushing your hips towards his hand again, needing him but Rafe just shook his head.

He took your wrist and forced your hand on his bulge, groaning when you automatically squeezed him through his pants. “My cock’s been so dry, all your fucking fault.” He mumbled, and guided your fingers towards his belt. You kissed him and unbuckled it fast with shaky hands, pulling his pants and boxers down, giving his dick a few desperate strokes yourself, almost pulling on it to get it closer to your spread legs.

Rafe chuckled at that, and you couldn’t help but to laugh too. “Need you, Ray,” you cooed after the laugh, finding his bicep with your hand and squeezing it, hiding your face in his neck. “Please,” you whispered against his skin.

“Mm, didn’t feel good to not get fucked out huh?” He brushed his head against your folds a few times, you threw your head back and moaned a quiet no. He took his time, his head throbbing against your folds and clit, rubbing against your wet cunt.

His teeth found your neck, biting down hard enough to leave bruises for a week. “Mm, I didn’t fuck anyone else either,” he mumbled and slithered his hand around your body to your back, “I don’t want some whores pussy, just yours, baby—“

“Good. If you fucked someone else I’d kill you.” You mumbled back and pushed his hand away from his dick, rubbing it harder against your cunt, throwing your head back and rocking your hips against it.

That did it for him, Rafe chuckled darkly as he slid inside you, you shut your eyes in the pain, not being used to how big he was after such a long time, but Rafe had all the time in the world now. He kissed the corner of your eye and waited a bit before experimentally thrusted against you. “Fuck,” he whispered, “I just want you. Just need you.”

You found the back of his neck with both your hands, pulling him closer and tugging at his hair. Rafe started to thrust against you, going harsh, rough, sliding into you fully each time, stretching you out, and groaning against your mouth every time your warm walls squished him.

You were a moaning mess, moving your own hips against his, scratching his skin wherever you could, arms, chest, stomach, neck, sucking on his tongue and biting his lips. Your lewd moans mixed with the sounds of your wet pussy being ruined by him.

His hand remained on your back, shielding your skin from hitting the faucet again and again, instead his already bruised hand did, so much to the point his hand started bleeding again, but he didn’t care.

“Ray, baby— fuckkkk.”

His mind went blank at your nicknames. You didn’t call him baby before, and he got addicted to it already. “Mm, ‘m fuckin’ you that good?” His hand, still wet from fingering you before, found your neck and he squeezed as he kept thrusting against you, picking up the pace but still going all in every single time.

“S’fuckin’ good,” you moaned again and squeezed his waist with your legs, pulling him closer to you, making him almost stumble on top of you. “S’big, so fuckin’ big.”

“Mm, keep takin’ it,” he grabbed your chin and made you look into his eyes. You held eye contact while your eyes sparkled and mouth kept gasping for air, such pretty fucked out face. Your spongy walls felt so warm it made his head spin.

“Open your mouth,” Rafe growled and you obeyed immediately, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out for him, looking into his eyes. He spat into your mouth, and you swallowed it with a grin, giving his chin a bite in return, licking some of the blood from the fight off.

The sounds of skin slamming against skin filled the bathroom, muting out the sounds of the party outside. He wondered if they could hear your moans over the music, the thought sending electric spikes into his stomach, making him go harder against you, slamming against you roughly, making your whole body ache.

“Hey, hey,” he grabbed your thights and pushed them apart more, shoving his body closer to yours, fucking you deeper, “scream for me, let them hear you belong to me.” He whispered under your ear and kissed your neck again, leaving purple bruises.

“Rafe,” you whined, but it wasn’t good enough for him.

“Louder,” he growled and pushed fully into you again, pushing his big dick to the edge, past your limits to the point you could feel him in your stomach, his fingers found your soaked cunt and rubbed your core, feeling your body shake against his. For a moment his hand left your back so he could grab your throat again, squeezing hard, making you arch your back and see stars from the lack of air.

“Rafe! Fuck, baby—“ you moaned louder, your own nails digging into his skin… still not good enough. Rafe growled and pushed your head against the mirror behind you, his fingers tilting your chin sideways while he still squeezed your throat.

“See what a little slut you are?” He moaned himself, feeling his dick twitch inside you, his grip on your hair tightened, he glued the side of your head against the mirror, his thrusts becoming needier, messier, sloppy but still fast. Still so fucking deep.

You looked at your face in the mirror, eyes glossy and mouth open, making sounds for him, looked at him behind you, his body towering over you, trapping you under him, your shaky breaths leaving the image foggy. Your back was hitting the faucet, for sure creating bruises, but all you could feel was Rafes throbbing dick hitting that weak spot inside you.

“RAFE!” You screamed now, watching how drunk he was on that sound in the mirror, his eyes rolling back, his own knees giving out. “Baby,’m gonna—“

“Yeah, come on my dick, baby, I got you,” he pushed your head against the mirror again, forcing you to watch. You looked at where his dick was filling you, sliding in and out and how his hands on your body were shaking.

“I don’t hate every pogue,” Rafe let out through his shaky breaths and moans, resting his forehead against the crook of your neck, “I never hated you.”

You felt your own legs hurt and shake, your whole body on fire as your stomach snapped inside. You screamed his name, grabbed onto him, pulled his body closer against yours, moaned so damn loud and weak for him.

That was it for him too, he squeezed your clit in between his fingers one more time before his cum filled you up, your fucked out cunt so full of him, still so warm.

He could barely breathe, his head stayed resting against your neck, his dick still inside you, pushing the cum deeper into you. You felt on fire inside, stuffed with him. You were both sweaty, your chest rising against his.

A few minutes went by of just staying like this. Then it all started to come to your senses, the bruises on your thighs, the burning skin all over your neck and chest, the numbness in your legs, and your back hurt so fucking bad from the faucet.

“Shit,” you mumbled and Rafe finally looked up at you, pulling slightly back, but still close, still holding your body and still inside you.

“Hm?” He just mumbled and kissed one of the bruises he left on your neck. “You’re a mess,” he mumbled and chuckled against your skin.

“Your fault.” You whispered, stubborn but not willing to move at all. When he finally pulled back properly, his cum leaked down your legs, your dress was wet and messy as well.

“Yeah,” he smirked, smugness evident in his voice. Asshole. “Wanna come to Tannyhill with me?”

You left the party together. You tried to clean up, but everything about you was still a mess. Rafe threw his arm around your shoulders, shielding you from the people at the party and shamelessly leading you outside to his car.

[obsourie]

FRIENDZONED !

a normal shopping day with your bsf! what could go wrong? except, you dont know why hes so demanding...

cw: 18+, highly suggested themes, gaslighting & emotional manipulation, intense possessive/obsessive behavior, toxic friendship dynamics, objectification, perverted thoughts

pairings: dark!bsf!rafe x gentle!oblivious!reader

“ouhh, this is cute.” you grab a white, linen midi dress hanging on the clothing rack. staring up and down of the design on the dress. its flowy and stops at your shin. you held the dress on your body, watching how good it would look. “i could wear this to topper’s boat party.”

“put that shit down.” rafe lazily comments from behind you. eyes not leaving his phone. you turn around, pouting. “youre not even looking at it!”

your face scrunched up in a frown. “c’mon, ray, this is pretty. white is my color, it makes me look classy.”

rafe turns his phone off, sliding it into his pocket. he closed the distance between you until hes completely towering you.

he reaches out, pinching the fabric between his thick fingers, looking at it with disgust. it was boring and completely swallowing your body shape.

“since when do you get so boring?” he spoke up. your face falters. looking back at the white dress youre holding. a faint blush covering your face in embarrassment.

“last summer you wore a bikini top to a bonfire. now youre trying to dress like.. this. if you dont want to show off, fine. but i know your real style.” he guilt trips was right. you immediately panic. thinking youre losing your 'cool' girl image on his eyes.

“you think it looks bad?” you put the white midi dress back into the rack.

“it looks cheap.” he lies answered smoothly.

“you wanna be the girl everyone stares at, right? try this one on.” he grabs a white ribbed mini dress instead. its.. very tight, scoops low on the chest, and the hemline ends on your inner thigh.

you paused. “ray, thats.. way too short. if i bend over, everyone’s gonna see everything.” you look at the dress, not sure. your face flushes hot.

rafe stares at you, gaze slowly getting dark. he smirks possessively. he leans his head down to your ear. dropping his ‘bestfriend’ act. “then dont bend over unless im standin’ right behind you.”

you gasp, brows furrowing. well, its not unusual for your bestfriend to whisper you weird things. hes just like that! a little perverted but you love him.

“youre so pervy.” you roll your eyes and giggling. he steps back, handing you the dress. “go try it on.” he orders lazily. you grab the dress and step inside to a massive, private fitting room.

once you put the dress on, you stare at yourself in the mirror. turning around to see how it looks from the back. it looks so short and tight. almost suffocating your body. you cant help but to admit you indeed look sexy in this. glad youre bestfriends with rafe, he always picks out the best for you!

and not long, rafe enters the fitting room with you there. you ask nervously, “does this look good?” you show him the front and then turning around.

rafe doesnt say anything. he physically cannot speak. his eyes goes hungry, tracking from your collarbone, down to the swell of your tits in a cleavage, then to the dip of your waist and hip, finally to how barely it covers your plush thighs and ass. you look innocent in white, yet so disrespectful.

“its fuckin’ perfect.” he compliments. theres something about rafe that makes you feel.. weird. everytime he conpliments you or stares at you, you always feel shy. maybe its because hes just intense like that.

“thanks! but im not sure—”

“keep it. you look pretty.” pretty, he said. there it was. mostly, guys and your stupid exes call you ‘hot, sexy, fine’. never ‘pretty and beautiful’. its weird ‘cause.. considering of how pervy you know your bestfriend is. but hes got a kind heart.

you stare up at rafe with a smile, heart fluttering. “aw, rafe. you always find a way to make me feel so entirely seen.”

rafe’s smile didnt reach his eyes, it stayed sharp and hungry as he dropped his gaze back to the short dress. he felt a dark thrill. feeling like he was the only guy who actually gets you and treats you right.

you take a shaky breath, fingers digging at the hem of the dress to pull it over your head, “uhm, okay. ill pick this one. just go wait outside so i can change back into my clothes.”

rafe doesnt even move towards the door. he reached over to the small hook on the wall and grabs the black micro string bikini. he brought it here before she even enters the fitting room. what the?

“try this one first.” he stares back at her. “fits your style, no?”

you stared at the bikini he held in his hand, eyes going wide. “i have to take my bra off to put that on. get out, ray.” you command softly.

rafe lazily looks down at you. tilting his head and brows furrowing in confusion. “just put it on.”

“im about to take my clothes off..?” you hiss, cheeks burning.

rafe sighs in exhaustion, “y’know, if youre that insecure about your body right now, we can put it back. thought it would look good on you, but if youre going to be weird ‘bout it.. whatever.” classic rafe, hes always dramatic!

before he could left, you let out a gasp. “im not insecure!” you argued gently, a small smile coming out. you take the bikini from his hand. “fine, ill put it on. but i want you to turn around. or, look at your phone, whatever.” well you know rafe’s definitely hooked up with a lot of girls and see them naked but still, hes your bestfriend. your rafe. you feel shy undressing under his gaze.

you take the white dress off over your head. leaving only in the pink lacy panties and bra. obviously youre not taking your panties off whenever youre trying bikinis on.

your fingers moved behind you, unclasping the bra. and just then, you quickly grab the tiny black triangle top to cover your tits.

you dont know the fitting room has three-way mirrors on every single wall. youre too busy putting the bikini on, not realizing rafe wasnt staring at his screen. he stares right at you. eyes taking in your soft skin, curve of your waist, and the way your thighs press against each other. pink undies? how cute. makes him want to ruin you.

he noticed how your fingers fumbled against the bikini string. your face confused.

“ray, i cant get the knot.” you admit, looking back at him.

he shoved his phone back into his pocket, walking closer to you. “drop your hands, ill do it.” he closed the distance, tall frame towering over you.

he reached his thick fingers to the nape of her neck. blood rushing violently on his head (and dick) that he actually feels dizzy. he takes the bikini strings and tying it slowly. he could see your tits from up here.

the air felt so thick. dont know maybe from how tense you were or the fact that his dick is throbbing. hes thinking about groping your tits from behind, and bending you over in here. he would cover your mouth to keep your moans quiet and muffled from making the staff suspicious. bet you’d get so cockdrunk. he jerked off at the thought of you for a lot of times before.

then, he brings the second set of strings down to her back. he pulls them really tight.

you squirm, “rafe, wait, thats too tig—” a gasp left your mouth, from how warm his broad body is, pressing against yours.

“if its loose, youre gonna spill right outta it. wouldnt want any other guys oglin’ at you, hm?” he tied the knot on your back carefully. his bruised knuckles from whatever fight he got—brushing softly into your bare back on purpose. once hes done, he pats your right hip. “there. told you it’d fit you.”

you stare at your reflection in the mirror infront. suddenly realizing how big his frame is swallowing you from behind. your gaze tracks down to your body—from your pink panties to the micro bikini top, but then directed at rafe.

he stares back from the mirror. making a long eye contact seconds after seconds. he leans down, his chin pressing against your bare shoulder. you dont even realize both of his hands are gripping the sides of your waist, not tightly—but firm enough.

“youre wearing this under the white dress tomorrow,” rafe dictates, tone flat. his eyes bored, but then dropped to your body again. smirking secretly. he lifts his chin off your shoulder.

“and when other guys say you look so good, youre gonna tell ‘em i picked it out for you. understood?” his big hand grabbed your chin, making you look and turning up at him.

he loves making you his doll. putting his name on your aesthetic and demanding you to brag about it to the rest of the island.

overwhelmed, flustered, and so obedient.

your lips part slightly. you give a tiny nod as you stare up at him.

“put your clothes back on. im paying for everything weve picked out.”

ⓘ do not copy my work or use my idea to ai. likes nd reblogs are appreciated! dividers by @/cursed-camine.

[ss4phire]

RAFE CAMERON

𝘤𝘸: 𝘮𝘶𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵, 𝘢𝘣𝘶𝘴𝘦, 𝘰𝘣𝘴𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘩𝘪𝘤 𝘨𝘰𝘳𝘦.

𝘣𝘢𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘦 𝙊𝘽𝙎𝙀𝙎𝙎𝙄𝙊𝙉

𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥! 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺.

CHAPTER 3

The next day? Rafe was everywhere.

At parties, he would sit down beside you and sling an arm around your shoulder, pulling you in close like he belonged there. On your days off he’d invite you to his place, where you’d actually start with watching a movie like a normal couple—curled up on his couch, his fingers lazily playing with your hair.

But when you were at work? He would spend all day looking at you, not looking away for a second. Those blue eyes tracking every move you made behind the bar, every smile, every step. It was constant. You just smiled back every time you noticed him.

But unfortunately, Cherry also seemed to notice it too. You looked up from the counter you were wiping, noticing cherry just staring at you. You awkwardly chuckled, “what?”

“What the fuck is wrong with him?” She had her eyebrows knitted. “What’s wrong with him?” you asked, starting to wipe the counter again before dragged you through the door into the dimly lit kitchen, the clatter of the restaurant fading behind you. “Hey, what are you doing—“

She crossed her arms like she was uncomfortable. “What the hell is wrong with him.” She repeated.

You blinked, “What?”

“Y’know…” She waved her hand in the air like she was trying to summon the words. “He’s acting all… like that?”

You leaned against the fridge, letting out a whispered scoff. “What exactly?”

Cherry stared at you, dead serious. “He’s acting like he’s obsessed with you after he genuinely made it clear to you that he hated you for the past what? Ten years?”

“And he’s like… staring at you for the whole freaking day, and it’s like really fucking creepy.” She shrugged, hugging herself with her arms.

“It’s… i don’t know…” You shrugged. “Different now, Cher. He likes me back.”

Before Cherry could argue back. Fred, the head chef came striding toward the industrial fridge you were both leaning against.

“Excuse me, ladies,” he said sarcastically, reaching between you two, “but aren’t you supposed to be serving customers instead of chit-chatting?”

“Yeah, yeah, Fred.” You rolled your eyes and pushed off the fridge. Cherry followed you out, still confused as hell as you headed back toward the bar you muttered under your breath, “Maybe just be happy for me instead of bitching about it—”

“Hey, baby.” Rafe was already there, leaning against the bar directly infront of the doorway like he’d been waiting for you to reappear. Arms resting on the polished wood, that signature half-smirk on his face.

“Holy fuck—” You jumped, heart slamming against your ribs. He was so goddamn unpredictable.

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry… didn’t mean to scare you, babe,” Rafe said quickly, straightening up. His voice dropped softer, almost apologetic, but his eyes were still locked on you the way they had been all week. He reached across the bar and brushed his fingers over your wrist. “I missed you.”

You glanced sideways at Cherry, who was straight-up giving you the what the fuck? face, eyebrows raised so high they nearly disappeared into her hairline. You shook your head at her, trying to play it cool.

“No, no, it’s okay…” you told Rafe, exhaling. “You need anything?”

He didn’t even pretend to look at the menu. His gaze stayed on your face, thumb still tracing slow circles on the inside of your wrist. “Just you. Been standing here watching you disappear into the back for too long.” The smirk returned, a little sharper this time. “Thought maybe you were hiding from me.”

“I was gone for a minute—” you started, trying to laugh it off. Rafe’s expression shifted. The smirk dropped into a full pout, brows pulling together in that dramatic, almost childish way he got when he felt ignored. “Doesn’t matter. You were avoiding me, weren’t you?”

“What? No, I wasn’t—” you nervously chuckled, glancing around. A couple of customers were already starting to look over.

Rafe didn’t drop it. His voice got louder, carrying across the bar the way it did when he was spiraling. He straightened up, hands gripping the edge of the wood hard enough that his knuckles whitened. “Bullshit. You go in the back with her, whispering about me, and suddenly you’re gone for fucking ever. What, you embarrassed of me now? After everything?”

A few heads turned. An older couple at the end of the bar paused mid-bite. Fred poked his head out from the kitchen window, frowning. You stepped closer to the bar quickly, lowering your voice to a whisper. “Rafe, baby. I wasn’t avoiding you, okay? Cherry was just asking questions, that’s all.“

Then his pout slowly disappeared when your hand found his across the bar, then he picked it up to nuzzle his cheek against it. “Sleep at my house tonight?”

“Yeah… yeah, okay.” you nodded, taking your hand away reluctantly to pretend to make a new drink.

𑣲

You’d gone back to his place after your shift, you guys watched a movie as usual but you dozed off halfway.

You groaned, half awake and rubbing your eyes before something made your eyes flutter open in the dark, The room was pitch black except for the faint glow of the moon coming through the blinds. You shifted under the covers and froze.

Rafe was standing right beside the bed, shirtless in just his sweatpants, staring down at you. He wasn’t moving. Just watching. Head slightly tilted, that unblinking gaze fixed on your sleeping face like he’d been there for hours already.

You checked the clock on his nightstand, 3:05 AM in bright blue led.

“Rafe…?” you whispered, voice thick with sleep as you propped yourself up on one elbow.

He didn’t startle. “I like watching you sleep here,” he said quietly, voice low and rough in the silent room. “You look so fucking peaceful. Like you belong in my bed. Like you’re finally mine and the whole world can’t touch us.”

He crawled on the bed towards you, gently brushing his knuckles along your cheek. “Sweetheart, i love you so so so so so so much, i don’t think i could live without you.”

Your breath hitched, you let out a shaky breath. “more than anyone in the world?”

“Yes… more than anyone.” You could see the outline of his smirk in the dark. “Sometimes I think about what I’d do if you tried to leave me now,” he added, the words casual but heavy. “Wouldn’t let it happen, though. You know that, right, baby?”

He said it like it was the most romantic thing in the world. Then he got into the bed and pulled the blankets over himself, falling asleep like nothing happened.

You watched him, eyes widened while you hesitantly laid back down. You stared into the ceiling, not sleeping through the night.

𑣲

Sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting soft stripes across the bed. You stirred slowly, eyelids heavy, and blinked up to find Rafe already awake.

He was propped up on one elbow, looking down at you. Again. That same intense, unblinking stare from the night before, like he’d been watching you sleep for a while. His free hand rested lightly on your waist, thumb tracing small circles over the fabric of your shirt. “Morning, baby.”

The memory of waking up at 3am to him standing beside the bed hit you all at once. “Rafe…” you murmured, shifting under his gaze. “About last night… you can’t do that again. Waking up to you just standing there, watching me? It freaked me out. Like, really fucking freaked me out.” You murmured, not wanting him to get pissed off again.

He blinked, then nodded slowly. His expression softened immediately, that guilty-puppy look crossing his face. “Shit, baby. I’m sorry,” he said, voice still rough with sleep. He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I didn’t mean to freak you out. I just… I like seeing you here. Peaceful. In my bed. But I won’t do it again, okay? I promise. I never want to scare you. You know that, right?”

You searched his face. He looked sincere—eyes soft, brows slightly furrowed in apology. He even pulled you closer, rubbing your back like he was trying to make up for it right then and there. “Yeah… okay,” you whispered, relaxing a little into his touch. “Just… no more standing over me while I sleep.”

He nodded again, pressing another kiss to your temple. “Never again. I’ve got you. I’ll be better, i swear.”

You let out a small breath of relief and turned your head, glancing around the room as you started to wake up more fully.

Thats when you saw it.

The bedroom door. It was shut… and hundreds of strips of silver duct tape had been run across it—multiple long, messy strips sealing the door to the frame.

“If you’re gonna have trouble with the tape maybe you should just take a day off.” He mumbled, you looked at in horror.

You let out a shaky breath, “no… no, i got it.”

chapter three as requested!

psycho rafe is backkkkkkkk 🥹🫶

zombie apocalypse fic will be posted also tonight, stay tuned and i hope you enjoyed this one!

taglist

@lilyyyyy08 @tez0 @angelicblingzari @sunny1616 @urfavlocalgirly @graciegibsonn @skankhvnt42 @nicholedraghoes19 @fleintur @rafesbunny @loveislikeathunder @xxchaelly @lolasangelz @drewmfstarkey @frrahhh @cameronsfics @eeekwbt @diaryofawhimsicalteenager @bellas-diaryentries @stiflersbabymama @slut4joelmillerr @1laiaa

[ilovemmyy]

rafe cameron x jealous reader (part one)

warnings- angst

summary- rafe and y/n has been in a secret relationship for six months, but when a girl gets too close to rafe at a party, y/n jealousy boil over.

—————————————————-——————-

The music pounded through the Cameron beach house, the bass vibrating beneath your feet as people laughed, danced, and shouted over one another. Red cups littered every surface, and someone had already jumped into the pool fully clothed.

You hated parties like this.

Not because of the noise.

Because you couldn’t stand next to your boyfriend.

No one knew you and Rafe Cameron had been together for almost six months. The relationship had started in secret after one late-night conversation turned into another, and somehow, beneath all of Rafe’s walls and sharp edges, you’d found someone who looked at you like you mattered.

Keeping it hidden was supposed to protect both of you.

Lately, it just hurt.

From across the room, you watched Rafe lean against the kitchen counter, laughing at something Topper had said.

Then she walked over.

Tall. Blonde. Perfect smile.

You’d seen her around Figure Eight before. She slipped beside Rafe like she belonged there, placing a hand on his arm as she laughed.

Your stomach tightened.

Rafe smiled politely, saying something back, but she only moved closer.

Too close.

She touched his shoulder.

Then his chest.

Then leaned in until she was practically whispering in his ear.

You gripped your drink harder.

Sarah wandered beside you, following your gaze.

“She’s been talking to him for like ten minutes.”

“I noticed.”

Sarah raised an eyebrow. “You okay?”

You forced a smile.

“I’m fine.”

You weren’t.

Across the room, the girl laughed loudly before brushing imaginary lint off Rafe’s shirt.

He didn’t pull away.

Your chest ached.

“He could at least move.”

Instead, he stayed where he was.

Maybe because making a scene would’ve looked suspicious.

Maybe because he didn’t care.

You couldn’t tell anymore.

Without another word, you set your drink down and slipped out onto the back deck.

The salty night air hit your face immediately.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, staring out toward the dark ocean.

A minute later, the sliding door opened.

“You disappeared.”

You didn’t turn around.

“What do you want, Rafe?”

His footsteps stopped behind you.

“I’ve been looking for you.”

“Funny.”

Silence.

“You looked pretty busy.”

“I was talking.”

“She was flirting with you.”

“I know.”

You finally spun around.

“So why didn’t you stop her?”

His jaw clenched.

“Because if I shoved her away, everyone would’ve wondered why.”

“Oh, please.”

“I’m serious.”

“You could’ve walked away.”

“And walked straight over to you?” he snapped. “That would’ve been real subtle.”

You folded your arms tighter.

“So instead you just let her touch you?”

His patience visibly cracked.

“You’re acting ridiculous.”

Your heart sank.

“Ridiculous?”

“Yeah.”

You laughed bitterly.

“I’m ridiculous because I didn’t enjoy watching another girl practically hang off my boyfriend?”

“You know she’s nothing to me.”

“Then act like it!”

“I was trying to protect us!”

“And what about me?” your voice shook. “Do you have any idea what it feels like standing there pretending I don’t know you while some girl flirts with you in front of everyone?”

His expression softened for only a second before frustration returned.

“This is why I didn’t want to tell anybody.”

You froze.

“…What?”

“Because everything gets complicated.”

Your eyes filled immediately.

“So I’m the complication?”

“No—that’s not what I—”

“You just said it.”

“I didn’t.”

“You basically did.”

He ran both hands through his hair.

“Y/N, stop twisting my words.”

“I’m not twisting anything.”

The hurt in your voice echoed louder than the music inside.

“You know what the worst part is?”

Rafe stayed silent.

“I would’ve moved.”

His brows furrowed.

“If some guy was all over me tonight…” you whispered, “…I would’ve found a way to get away from him.”

He stared at you.

“I would’ve chosen you.”

For the first time that night, Rafe looked genuinely shaken.

“I do choose you.”

“It didn’t feel like it.”

The words landed like a punch.

Neither of you spoke.

The ocean crashed quietly in the distance.

Finally, you swallowed the lump in your throat.

“I think I’m gonna go home.”

You stepped around him.

His hand caught your wrist.

“Don’t.”

You pulled away gently.

“I need space.”

His shoulders dropped.

He didn’t stop you again.

As you walked down the driveway, you could feel his eyes following you.

For once, he didn’t know what to say.

And somehow…

That hurt even more.

[rafecameronarchive]

UMMM HELLO??????!!??!!

these pics omggg

[bittersweetlyblue]

an: just clearing out the drafts so if this is shitty sorry!!

the worst part wasn’t that rafe lied.

it was how easy he made it look.

you stood barefoot on the tarmac outside tanneyhill, arms wrapped around yourself against the ocean wind while rain soaked through the thin hoodie you’d stolen from him months ago. the same hoodie he used to pull over your head after late-night drives. the same one that still smelled faintly like his cologne and cigarette smoke.

and now all you could think about was her hands on him instead.

rafe stood a few feet away, jaw tight, eyes glassy with frustration.

“nothing happened,” he snapped for what felt like the hundredth time.

you laughed bitterly, shaking your head. “right. because texting her at three in the morning while i’m asleep upstairs is totally nothing.”

“you’re twisting this.”

“am i?” your voice cracked on the last word, and you hated yourself for it. hated that he still had the power to make your chest ache just by looking at you.

rafe ran a hand through his wet hair. “i didn’t cheat on you.”

“no,” you whispered. “you just got real close.”

he looked away first. if he really thought he was innocent, wouldn’t he look you in the eye?

“you know what’s funny?” you said quietly. “i defended you to everybody.” his expression shifted slightly. “my friends told me you’d hurt me eventually. sarah told me you destroy everything you touch.” your throat tightened. “and i still chose you.”

“don’t make me sound like some monster.”

you stared at him in disbelief. “you did that yourself.”

the words landed hard. ou watched them hit him. for a second, rafe looked exactly like the boy you fell in love with instead of the hurricane everyone else saw — wounded, terrified, unraveling at the seams, but then his face hardened again. “i said i was sorry.”

“you said you were sorry after i found out.”

his mouth opened, then closed. there was nothing he could say to that. rain dripped from your eyelashes as you looked at him, really looked at him, and suddenly every memory felt poisoned. every kiss. every “i love you.” every promise whispered against your sweaty skin at two in the morning. you wondered if he’d texted her after kissing you goodnight. the thought made you feel sick.

“did you love her?” you asked before you could stop yourself.

rafe’s head snapped up instantly. “what? no.”

“then why her?”

his breathing slowed, uneven. “she didn’t know me like you do.”

your lips trembled. “so you wanted someone easier.”

“i wanted something that didn’t feel so serious all the time.”

you physically flinched. “serious?” you repeated softly. “i loved you.”

“i know.”

“no, rafe, i don’t think you do.” your eyes burned as tears finally slipped down your cheeks.

he stepped toward you then, panicked. “baby —”

“don’t.”

the single word stopped him cold. you wiped at your face angrily. “i would’ve stayed through anything with you. you know that? every fight. every bad night. every awful thing you’ve ever done.” your voice broke. “and you still threw us away for something meaningless.”

rafe looked devastated now. ypiu wanted him to hurt even half as much as you did. “i never wanted to lose you,” he said quietly.

“but you were okay risking it.”

another silence. another truth he couldn’t deny. you remembered the first night he told you he loved you. he’d held your face so carefully, like you were something fragile. now you realized fragile things were exactly what rafe cameron destroyed best.

“i hate you,” you whispered.

his eyes filled instantly. “no you don’t.”

he knew that despite the betrayal, despite the humiliation clawing at your chest, some horrible part of you would still answer his call if it came at 2 a.m.

you hated that he knew that. you hated that it was true.

“please don’t leave.” rafe whispered

for one terrifying second, you almost gave in. almost let him hold you. almost forgave him just because he looked broken but then you remembered the messages. the flirting. the secrecy. the way he made you feel crazy for noticing the distance between you. suddenly the boy in front of you wasn’t your safe place anymore. he was just the person who ruined it.

“you already left me first.”

© BITTERSWEETLYBLUE. do not copy, translate, edit my work then claim it as your own, attempt to plagarise or repost it on any other website nor feed into AI. you will be blocked.

taglist: @heathandrewstarkey , @corallandtragedy3 , @awrad2 , @filthyrafe , @bonjourjiminie , @dopepeacedestiny , @unicornyogakween , @eerilyjaggedconstruct , @heartsforvenus , @skkeletonns , @bonni-98 , @ljh22 , @shmd-nora , @harrrrystylesslut , @angel06babysworld , @rosiecherie , @loveislikeathunder , @shewants7 , @ssugartalkin , @kurtcobaintbh , @ana09hb , @be0m9yu, @octoberbxby , @joelmillrenthusiast , @drewsbby , @sex-the1975 , @rafesbunnygirl , @yogurts-things , @justacloverrr , @mar7vamp , @miaisboredd , @selfcontollover07 , @russianscream , @maddiefuckingperez , @mimimeowxzs , @77uchiha77 , @iamtheraine , @applespider0 , @wildflowerwildfire1201 , @drewstarkeyswife-7 , @faye7winter , @crystallinene , @bronsonmeydiluver , @notvickyyy ,@rcamerons , @ninavie , @kravitzwhore , @pinkdaydreamsblog , @writteninpinkpen , @songkangslvr , @loveforbucky , @saintlaurentcowboyyy , @justleftdaliquorsto , @kksturns , @lissaexe , @pinkitty97 , @houseofcupids , @cooper8224 , @isastarset , @iyannaunicorn , @yohathatsmyname , @my-therapist-hates-me , @writteninpinkpen , @songkangslvr

[ss4phire]

RAFE CAMERON

𝘤𝘸: 𝘮𝘶𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵, 𝘢𝘣𝘶𝘴𝘦, 𝘰𝘣𝘴𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘩𝘪𝘤 𝘨𝘰𝘳𝘦.

𝘣𝘢𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘦 𝙊𝘽𝙎𝙀𝙎𝙎𝙄𝙊𝙉

𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥! 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺.

CHAPTER 2

You took a deep breath, staring at the two pieces of wood on your nightstand. It probably didn’t work. You’re just literally delusional.

The rejection played on repeat in your head—every cruel word, the way he laughed at you, the disgust in his eyes. Fresh tears stung as you wiped your face and tried to pull yourself together.

Your phone buzzed on the bed beside you. You snatched it up immediately, heart leaping for half a second, only to see Cherry’s name on the screen.

Cherry 2:34 am

“Hey, sorry i didn’t come back earlier. Lowk found a big dick tourist 😍 sorry for being selfish, i’ll go to your house tomorrow. Pinky promise.”

You groaned loudly and flopped back onto your pillows, tossing the phone aside. Of course it wasn’t him. Why the hell would it be?

A few minutes later, your phone buzzed again. Then it started ringing—once, twice—before going to voicemail. It was probably Cherry feeling guilty again anyway.

You picked it up lazily… and froze.

1 New Voicemail — Rafe Cameron

“What the fuck?” Your stomach flipped. You stared at the screen for a long second before tapping play, pressing the phone tight to your ear.

Rafe’s voice came through, low and rough, like he’d been pacing while recording it.

“Uh… hey. It’s, uh… it’s Rafe. Look, I— fuck.” He let out a heavy breath, clearly frustrated. “I was a dick earlier. Like… a real asshole. I didn’t… I don’t know why I said all that shit to you. You caught me off guard and I just—uhhh…I reacted like shit, you know…”

There was a long pause. You could hear him shifting, probably running a hand through his hair the way he did when he was agitated.

“Look… if you’re not too pissed at me, maybe we could meet up at my place tomorrow night? Just to talk or whatever. I don’t know. You can text me if you want. Or not. Whatever.”

The voicemail ended.

Did he just?

You sat up and looked at the voicemail, pinching yourself until it bruised to see if this was just a dream. This is crazy.

You looked at the pieces of wood on your nightstand, did this shit really just work? Your thumb hovered over the screen, heart pounding as you stared at his contact.

You listened to the voicemail two more times, biting your lip hard. Your fingers hovered over the keyboard for what felt like forever before you finally typed out a short reply.

Y/n 3:00

“sure.”

You hit send before you could overthink it, then locked your phone and dropped it on the bed.

𑣲

You and Cherry were sitting on the old couch in the back employee lounge after your shift, both exhausted but too wired to go home yet. The club had been busy again, and your feet were killing you.

Cherry was sprawled out, legs thrown over the armrest, sipping on a stolen bottle of water. She had that post-hookup glow about her and wasn’t shy about it.

“Girl, that tourist last night? Holy shit,” she said with a wicked grin, fanning herself dramatically. “He fucked me so good I almost forgot my own name. Like, tall, British accent, knew exactly what he was doing. Best dick I’ve had in months. I’m not even kidding.”

You laughed despite yourself, shaking your head, she tends to literally share too much info but you didn’t mind since she was your bestfriend.

She shrugged, unapologetic. “Anyways—what happened to you last night? you know you shouldn’t drunk drive—“

You shook your head, “no, no, no… i wasn’t, drunk. It’s just… i confessed to rafe and he—“ You scratched your head, not knowing how to word it. “He laughed in my face. Called me a pathetic Pogue stalker, said I should go fuck one of the pogue guys instead, and basically told me to stay away from him. It was humiliating as hell.”

Cherry’s jaw dropped. “What the fuck? He’s such a piece of shit.”

“Yeah, but it was weird because later that night he left me a voicemail,” you continued, cheeks warming. “He apologized. Sounded super awkward about it. Said he felt bad and… he asked if I wanted to meet up. At his place tonight.”

Cherry’s eyes went wide before she made a weirded out smile. “Really? Didn’t he just reject you?”

“Maybe he felt sorry.” You didn’t tell her about the one wish willow, not wanting to seem crazy.

“Whatever girl, just don’t want you to get hurt with the games he’s playing.” She sat up straight, a mischievous smile spreading across her face. “He might lay you thooo.”

She teased, nudging your leg with her foot. “From crying in the parking lot to getting invited to Tannyhill? That’s a plot twist. Rafe Cameron apologizing and inviting you over? Girl, the universe is wild.”

You rolled your eyes, but a nervous flutter settled in your stomach. “It’s probably not like that. He just wants to talk, I guess.”

“No guy literally wants to just talk if he’s inviting you over to his place.” Cherry smirked. “Just wear something cute tonight.”

You shoved her playfully, laughing despite the mix of anxiety and excitement twisting inside you. You still hadn’t told her about the One Wish Willow. Some things felt too crazy to admit out loud.

𑣲

You walked out of the bar in slow steps, still texting Cherry and lowkey kinda waiting for Rafe’s text. You laughed quietly at a meme she sent, the screen lighting up your face, before you looked up—and your heart almost stopped.

Rafe was standing under the streetlight across the parking lot, truck parked right beside him like he’d been there a while. The glow cut sharp shadows across his face, hands in his pockets, eyes already fixed on you. “Jesus Christ—“ you breathed.

He started walking toward you immediately, shoes scraping softly against the concrete. No rush, but no hesitation either. When he got close enough, he tilted his head slightly, that intense blue stare softening just a fraction when he saw how startled you were.

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, voice low and rough, a little gravel from the humid night air.

“Y—you’ve been standing there all night?” You blinked. I mean, for god’s sake it was 2am in the morning.

“Yeah… pretty much,” he admitted, voice low and rough like he’d been chain-smoking while waiting. “I got here like four and a half hours ago. Saw Cherry leave and figured you’d be coming out soon after. Didn’t feel like sitting in the truck the whole time.”He shrugged one shoulder, trying to play it casual but failing. His gaze stayed locked on you, intense as always.

Rafe shifted his weight, hands sliding back into his pockets as he glanced around the empty lot for a second before his eyes returned to yours “It’s 2am, you’re out here by yourself… I wasn’t leaving till I saw you.”

His tone dropped a little, almost defensive. “That weird to you or something?”

You blinked again, caught off guard. “What? i—… no, it’s not weird at all.”

“Uh… okay, good, good,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. He looked almost relieved.

There was a beat of awkward silence before he jerked his head toward his truck. “C’mon. It’s late as shit. I’m not letting you Uber or walk or whatever.”

He didn’t really wait for an answer. Rafe started walking, expecting you to follow like it was the most natural thing in the world. When you fell into step beside him, he opened the passenger door for you—something he would never do… but tonight he did?

The drive was quiet at first, windows down, humid night air rolling in. Rafe kept one hand on the wheel, the other tapping restlessly on his thigh. Every few minutes his eyes would flick over to you, checking.

Eventually he broke the silence. “We’re going to my place,” he said. It wasn’t really a question. “Figured we could talk there. Or not talk. Whatever. My family’s out on the mainland, so it’s empty.”

He glanced at you again as he turned onto the long road toward Figure Eight, his voice dropping. “You cool with that?”

You stared at him, a strange chill running down your spine. This was all so creepy. How could a person switch this fast?

“I said, are you cool with that?” he repeated, flashing a grin that was surprisingly playful instead of mocking.

“Yeah,” you forced a chuckle, fidgeting with the loose string on your ripped jeans. “I’m cool with it.”

𑣲

Tannyhill was dark and empty when you pulled up. Rafe led you inside, the huge house feeling way too big and quiet. He didn’t bother turning on many lights—just enough to see.

You both stood awkwardly in the living room for a moment. Rafe rubbed the back of his neck, looking uncharacteristically unsure of himself.

“So… uh, you want something to drink?” he asked, gesturing vaguely toward the kitchen. “Beer? Water? My dad’s got some expensive whiskey if you’re into that.”

You shook your head. “I’m okay.”

He nodded, pacing a couple steps before stopping in front of you. The silence stretched.

“Look,” he started, voice rough, “I meant what I said in the voicemail. I was a dick last night.” But before you can respond? He suddenly closed the distance, grabbing your face with both hands and kissing you hard. There was nothing gentle about it—it was hungry, desperate, and overwhelming. His body pressed against yours as he backed you toward the oversized couch, hands already sliding under your shirt.

You gasped a bit, but you let him. Why wouldn’t you? you’ve dreamed of this ever since you saw him even though he completely ignored you.

Clothes came off fast after that.

You moaned while he literally drilled you into the couch, they were right. His cock was big… it was eight inches and three fingers thick, you were positive. He gripped and slapped your tits. “You wanted this, huh? So fucking good for me.”

His hand rubbed your clit before turning you to lay on your back, entering inside your wet pussy again which made you arch your back. “Yeah? gonna cum, huh?”

He twisted a hand in your hair before he pressed his forehead to yours, he looked directly into your eyes. Right as intensity built to its peak? “WHAT THE FUCK!?” Rafe yelled and jerked back, pushing away from you sharply. He stumbled off the couch, breathing hard, eyes wide with confusion and panic as he stared at you.

You sat up quickly, flinching as you pulled the little blanket to cover yourself, heart pounding from both the sex and the sudden whiplash.

Then he was back again, “Oh shit—shit, I’m sorry,” he muttered, voice rough and rattled. “I don’t… I don’t know what the fuck that was.”

“Shit—you scared me, Rafe!” You clutched the sheets tighter to your chest. “Fuck… I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, voice lower now, almost apologetic, but the hunger was already winning again. “I just—I can’t stop thinking about you. It’s messing with my head. C’mere.”

His hand found your thigh, sliding up as he leaned in again, the momentary break already crumbling.

After a while? The living room was dark except for the low glow of a single lamp. You were tangled up on the big couch, skin still warm. Rafe had you pulled tight against his chest, one arm locked around your waist like he was scared you’d disappear if he loosened up even a little. He was half-asleep, lips lazily dragging across the side of your neck.

You couldn’t relax the same way. The memory from earlier—the way he’d jumped off you—kept replaying in your head, it was scary as hell.

You swallowed hard and whispered into the quiet, “Rafe… do you like me?”

He went still for a second. Then a low, sleepy chuckle rumbled against your neck, the sound rough and genuine. His arm tightened around you, pulling you impossibly closer as he nuzzled his face deeper into your skin.

“Yeah… yeah, I do,” he mumbled, voice thick with sleep and that cocky edge he could never fully drop. “I like you.”

He kissed your neck again, slower this time, almost like a claim. Then he added, quieter.

“…But I love you.”

Hello to every one of you!

This is not a zombie apocalypse fic chapter but it is an obsessed chapter, i hope you enjoy this one just as much. To everyone who is waiting on for my zombie apocalypse one, expect it tomorrow!

Also working on my euphoria au!

I love all of you and please like and reblog, mwa mwa! :3

taglist

@lilyyyyy08 @tez0 @angelicblingzari @sunny1616 @urfavlocalgirly @graciegibsonn @skankhvnt42 @nicholedraghoes19 @fleintur @rafesbunny @loveislikeathunder @xxchaelly @lolasangelz @drewmfstarkey @frrahhh @cameronsfics @eeekwbt @diaryofawhimsicalteenager @bellas-diaryentries @stiflersbabymama @slut4joelmillerr

[zyafics]

HAPPILY EVER AFTER | Rafe Cameron

MAIN | Social Media AU

Pairing — Rafe x Female Reader

Summary — Falling in love is easy, but what happens after?

Navigation — Part 01 | Part 02

Zya's Post Notes: hello! i am back? idk, i got mad at the argentina v england match so now i'm here. anyways! angst city is back!!! this was very much inspired by a tiktok by @/kelbithomas.

IMPORTANT INFO ABOUT TAGLIST AND UPDATES: if you want to be notified about all my fics and updates, follow @zyafics-library and turn on notifications! however, if you want to be added to this specific taglist, let me know (but to remain tagged, you must interact with the posts).

[ss4phire]

RAFE CAMERON

𝘤𝘸: 𝘮𝘶𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵, 𝘢𝘣𝘶𝘴𝘦, 𝘰𝘣𝘴𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘩𝘪𝘤 𝘨𝘰𝘳𝘦.

𝘣𝘢𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘦 𝙊𝘽𝙎𝙀𝙎𝙎𝙄𝙊𝙉

𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥! 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺.

CHAPTER 1

The bar at the country club was buzzing with the usual crowd of rich Kooks—polos pressed to perfection and the clink of expensive whiskey glasses echoing under the chandelier light. You and your best friend had been slinging drinks all evening like the well-oiled machines you were. Except tonight, you weren’t really serving anyone. Your eyes were locked on him.

Rafe Cameron.

He was lounging at one of the high-top tables near the windows, broad shoulders stretching the fabric of his gray button-down, sweaty from golf and that signature cocky smirk playing on his lips as he talked to his usual friends, topper and kelce. His hair was slicked back in that hot way, and every time he lifted his glass, the veins in his forearm flexed just enough to make your stomach flip.

“Excuse me? Hello? Miss? I said a glass of bourbon.” The sharp voice finally cut through your haze. A middle aged guy in blue colored polo was waving his empty glass at you from the bar, face already filled with irritation.

“Shit—“You blinked, heat rushing to your cheeks as you fumbled for the bottle of top-shelf bourbon. “Sorry—coming right up—”

But it was too late. Your best friend, Cherry, snapped her fingers right next to your ear. “Earth to lover girl. Table six is about to combust.”

The customer slammed his hand on the polished wood. “Do your damn job or I’ll have you fired. This isn’t a staring contest, sweetheart.”

You quickly poured his drink, slid it across the bar with an apologetic smile, and watched him storm off muttering about “incompetent staff.” The second he was gone, Cherry leaned her hip against the counter beside you, arms crossed and a grin spreading across her face.

“Looking at Rafe again?” she teased, bumping your shoulder. “Babe, you’re gonna get us both canned if you keep eye-fucking the kook prince every shift. Though I get it—he’s like, stupid hot. But damn, at least pretend you’re not one second away from climbing over the bar and crawling into his lap.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands for a second before peeking through your fingers. “I wasn’t that obvious, was I?”

Cherry let out a humorless laugh. “You were practically drooling.”

“Pfft… no, I wasn’t?” You let out a laugh, but it died quickly as your smile disappeared. “I wasn’t, right?”

“Whatever.” She shrugged, shaking up a cocktail with practiced flicks of her wrist. “What do you like about him anyways? Besides being hot and allegedly having a big dick, he’s a spoiled asshole.”

“I don’t know… he’s just like—”

Cherry’s eyes suddenly widened, fixed on something over your shoulder while she poured the drink. “Oh my god—he’s coming over.”

“Wait, what… now?” Your eyes widened too. Your whole body went stiff, pulse skyrocketing as Cherry nodded frantically, trying and failing to hide her smirk.

You barely had time to turn before Rafe Cameron was already at the bar, sliding into the exact spot he’d occupied earlier. Up close like this, he was even more overwhelming—tall and super hot. His jaw was tight, like he was annoyed about something, but his eyes locked onto you with focus.

He didn’t even glance at Cherry.

“Same thing,” he said, tapping the bar with two fingers. His voice was low and impatient. You smiled, remembering his order like always. “Coming right up.

As you turned to take the whiskey bottle from the shelf, Cherry gave you a look saying ‘see? he’s a complete asshole’. You just rolled your eyes and smiled.

You went back up infront of him while his gaze dropped to your name tag for half a second before flicking back up to your face.

“You’re one of the Pogues they got working here, huh?” he said, the word Pogue rolling off his tongue with casual hate, like it was both an observation and an insult. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Explains why you’ve been eye fucking me all night instead of doing your job. What, you think staring hard enough is gonna make me notice you or something?”

Your smile disappeared, “I um… i haven’t—“

Rafe scoffed. Rafe leaned in a little closer, voice dropping. “You see… uh, guys like me don’t usually go for girls who spend their nights wiping down bars for tips.” He gave a cruel smirk, taking the fresh drink from your hand and took a sip of the whiskey. “Might wanna keep your eyes to yourself before you embarrass yourself more, pogue.”

Rafe threw a twenty on the counter before he turned and walked back toward his table. You stood there frozen, cheeks burning hot with embarrassment as the weight of his words settled in. Pogue. The way he’d said it hit harder than you expected. Even if you’d fantasized about him noticing you a million times, you hadn’t imagined it going quite like that.

Cherry gave you a sympathetic wince from the other side of the bar. “Oof. That was rough.”

𑣲

You barely made it through the rest of your shift without replaying the moment on loop. By the time you clocked out, your stomach was in knots.

The night air felt sticky and humid as you slid into Cherry’s passenger seat, slamming the door harder than necessary. She started the car and pulled out of the country club lot, the radio playing low in the background.

you groaned, slumping down in the seat and covering your face with both hands. Your voice cracked with humiliation. “Shit—shit, that was so fucking embarrassing… fuck my life.”

Cherry glanced over while keeping her eyes mostly on the dark road. “Yeah… he was kind of a dick about it, i told you that already.”

“I don’t care,” you muttered, even though you did. You cared so much it hurt. “Fuck, i really do.”

She laughed, trying to lighten the mood. “There’s like, other guys out there who want you! Oh—literally Chase, dude.”

“Seriously?” You sat up straighter, groaning. “He’s so annoying. He gave me a fluffy unicorn book last valentine’s!”

Cherry actually cackled, slapping the steering wheel. “You said you liked unicorns!”

“When I was literally twelve,” you shot back, rolling your eyes so hard it hurt. The memory made you cringe even harder now—Chase’s awkward, persistent crush felt like a joke compared to your crush over Rafe.

The car filled with both you and Cherry’s laughter before the conversation got serious again real quick. “But seriously, maybe you should tell him how you feel.”

“And embarrass myself again? he hates me so much.” You huffed, fidgeting with your fingers. “I just want him to love me as much as i love him. Love me more than anyone in the whole fucking world.”

“Keep dreaming, babe.” Cherry pulled up in front of your house and put the car in park. “For real though… you gonna be okay? Rafe’s hot, yeah, but he’s also Rafe. Maybe it’s time to stop staring and move on before you get hurt.”

You forced a small smile, unbuckling your seatbelt. “Yeah. I’m good. Thanks for the ride.”

She rolled her windows down before you can walk away. “also, boneyard party tomorrow at five. Bring clothes, lets partay!”

The second her taillights disappeared down the road, the fake smile dropped. You stood on your porch for a minute.

𑣲

After Cherry dropped you off, you kicked off your shoes and flopped onto your stomach on the bed, laptop open in front of you. The house was quiet, just the low hum of the fan spinning overhead. You mindlessly scrolled through random shit—memes, outfit inspo, drama on the Figure Eight gossip pages—trying to distract yourself from the replay of Rafe’s words burning in your head.

You kept scrolling until a suggested post stopped your thumb cold.

Tips on how to make someone fall inlove with you.

You let out a chuckle like it was the stupidest thing you’ve ever seen but clicking on the link shown anyway, it led you to a reddit site where it showed a bunch of comments.

“Give him gifts.”

“triangle method.”

“Girl, just fuck him and you got him.” |

“lol, love how desperate all you bitches are.”

They were all pretty useless or things you’ve tried before, or a few were straight-up creepy or borderline illegal. Most were things you’d already tried in tiny, half-assed ways before chickening out at the last second.

You were about to close the tab, thoroughly annoyed, when one comment near the bottom caught your eye…

“Try the one wish willow, works like a charm. 100% accurate. Been in my family for generations. No bullshit.”

You raised an eyebrow, hovering over the comment. It looked like one of those sketchy scam ads that pop up everywhere.

You stared at it for a second before groaning and closing the laptop completely, flopping on your back and looking up at the ceiling…

Cherry’s birthday is in a few days… you thought, grasping for any excuse. She does like those weird old taxidermied possums and vintage stuff. I could stop by that antique store on the edge of town and find her something. Totally normal. Not because of some Reddit comment.

𑣲

The bell ringed when you pushed open the door to the antique shop, the place smelled like dust and old books. You wandered around, pretending to look for Cherry’s gift—picking up a creepy stuffed possum, some vintage jewelry, a weird porcelain doll—before your eyes landed on it.

It was a small and slim box, there was a whole box of it. You walked up to the counter and took one box. “hey, uh… do these actually work?”

The bored woman chewing her gum looked at the box. “dunno, some people say they do and some people don’t. Warnings behind the box.” She shrugged while you put one all of the gifts on the table. “twenty bucks.”

you nodded and payed the twenty bucks before you could talk yourself out of it.

That very night, you were distracted looking at Rafe from a distance, making out with another rich tourist girl while cherry talked to you. “Hey, hey—are you even listening?”

“Uh—what? yeah, yeah.” You nodded, taking a sip of the cheep bear while forcing yourself to look away.

She sighed. “Never mind. You’re hopeless.” She walked away to grab another beer.

When Rafe finally left the girl and headed toward the beach parking lot alone, you followed before you could talk yourself out of it. “Rafe, wait—”

He turned, looking mildly annoyed. “Got something to say?”

You took a shaky breath and let it all spill out. “I… I really like you. A lot. I know I’m just a pogue and you’re… you. But I can’t stop thinking about you. I’ve felt this way for so long. I thought maybe if I told you, there could be something—”

Rafe stared at you for a beat, then let out a harsh, mocking laugh that echoed in the quiet night air. “You’re joking, right?” His voice was cold, dripping with cruelty. “You actually think I’d want you? A broke little Pogue who serves drinks to people like me?”

“That’s fucking hilarious, man.” He laughed mockingly, adjusting his hat.

He stepped closer, towering over you, his face twisted with disgust. “You’ve been creeping on me for weeks like some sad, obsessed stalker and now you’re confessing? Pathetic. Go cry to your pogue friends about it. Maybe one of them will feel bad enough to fuck you. But me? I wouldn’t touch you if you were the last girl on this island.”

Tears flooded your eyes instantly. You tried to hold them back, but they spilled over anyway, hot and humiliating. Rafe just rolled his eyes.

“Great. Now you’re crying. Even worse. Do everyone a favor and stay the fuck away from me.”He turned and walked off toward his truck without a second glance, leaving you standing there shaking.

𑣲

You barely made it to your car before breaking down completely. The drive home was a blur of tears. Once inside your room, you locked the door and sat on the edge of your bed, face buried in your hands.

Cherry’s texts were spamming you, asking where you were and how she’s going home with another guy.

You reached for the One Wish Willow you’d bought earlier—the carved wooden piece still sitting on your nightstand. Your fingers trembled as you picked it up.

Staring at it through blurry eyes, you gripped it tight. “I wish Rafe Cameron loved me more than anyone in the whole entire fucking world.”

You snapped the wooden piece in half with a loud

CRACK.

UGH I LOVED WRITING THIS.

anyways, heres the chapter 1 of obsessed. I hope you guys don’t hate the cliffhanger THAT much 🫣 but i promise it will come in a few hours HAHAHAHAH like actually 🥹🫶

Please reblog and leave a like, it really helps. Thank you for reading!

[cameronsdior]

Hottest duo ever

[spankyourlocalbrat]

can you do a smut with rafe x kelcies sister?

content warnings. ⸝⸝ fem reader, food play, black!reader, oral sex, hair pulling, fingering, no proof read, dark skin!reader

you feel the cool air of the cameron’s beach house kiss your bare skin as rafe locks the bedroom door behind him. the party downstairs is still raging, kelce and his crew blasting music, but up here it’s just you, rafe, and the can of whipped cream he swiped from the kitchen.

your dark skin glows under the low lamp light, box braids cascading down your back and past your ass like a thick curtain. the diamond anklet he bought you last month sparkles around your ankle every time you shift on the bed.

“been thinkin’ about this all night,” rafe murmurs, voice low and rough as he stalks toward you. he’s already shirtless, board shorts hanging low on his hips, that cocky smirk playing on his lips. “my girl lookin’ too good in that little dress. i had to get you alone.” he whispers.

he peels the thin fabric off you slowly, letting it pool on the floor until you’re naked beneath him. your full tits, the curve of your waist, the way your braids spill over the sheets, rafe’s eyes darken with hunger.

he shakes the whipped cream can, the metal clinking softly, then presses the nozzle against your collarbone. cold white cream spirals out in a thick line down between your breasts, over your stomach, circling each nipple until they’re peaked and aching.

“rafe…” you breathe, arching a little as the chill makes you shiver. “shh, baby. let me taste.” he leans down, tongue dragging slow and hot over your skin, licking the sweetness from your collarbone first. his mouth is greedy, sucking gently at the sensitive spot before moving lower.

he swirls his tongue around one whipped cream covered nipple, pulling it into his mouth with a wet pop that makes you moan. your fingers thread through his hair, tugging as he devours you.

he trails lower, painting more cream along the dip of your hips, then down your thighs. the anklet catches the light as he spreads your legs wider, diamond flashing while he settles between them. rafe sprays a messy line right above your pussy, letting it drip down teasingly before his mouth follows.

his tongue laps it up in long, filthy strokes, sweet cream mixing with your wetness as he eats you like he’s starving. he hums against your clit, the vibration shooting pleasure up your spine.

“fuck, you taste so good,” he growls, voice muffled. one hand grips your thick braid, wrapping it around his fist like a leash while the other holds your thigh open. he adds more whipped cream, making a sticky trail over your folds, then sucks it all off with obscene sounds that echo in the room. your hips buck against his face, braids shifting wildly as you chase the building heat.

rafe doesn’t stop. he fucks you with his tongue, licking every last drop of cream from your dripping cunt until you’re shaking, thighs squeezing around his head. the anklet bounces lightly against his shoulder with every twitch of your leg.

“come on, baby. let me hear you,” he demands, sucking hard on your clit while two fingers slide deep inside you. the pressure snaps, and you cum with a broken moan, body arching off the bed as waves crash through you.

rafe pulls back, lips shiny with cream and your slick, grinning up at you. “we ain’t done yet. got a whole can left.” he sprays a dollop right on the tip of his hard cock, stroking himself slowly. “your turn to clean me up.” he teased.

you sit up, braids falling forward as you lean in, ready to return the favor, tongue swirling around his cream covered length while he watches with light eyes.

he sprays another thick swirl of whipped cream right along his hard cock, from base to tip, the cold making him hiss through his teeth. “clean it up, baby. use that pretty mouth,” he orders, voice rough.

you wrap your fingers around the base, the diamond anklet sparkling as your leg shifts for balance. your dark skin contrasts against his, lips parting as you drag your tongue slow up the underside, licking every sweet drop. the cream mixes with the salty taste of his skin, and you moan around him, taking him deeper. rafe groans, one hand fisting your thick braids to guide you. “fuck yeah… just like that.”

you hollow your cheeks, sucking him down wet and messy, tongue swirling to catch every bit of whipped cream. your head bobs faster, braids swaying with the rhythm while you take him to the back of your throat. rafe’s hips twitch, pushing a little deeper, the wet sounds of your mouth filling the room.

“shit, your mouth feels too good,” he pants, watching your full lips stretch around him. you look up at him through your lashes, eyes watering a little as you work him harder, sucking, licking, stroking what you can’t fit. more cream gets added when he pulls out briefly, only for you to dive back in, slurping it all off like it’s your favorite treat.

his grip tightens in your braids, abs flexing as he gets close. “gonna cum, baby—don’t stop.” he whimpers.

and you don’t! you suck him sloppier, faster, until his cock twitches hard on your tongue. rafe curses loud, hips stuttering as thick ropes of cum spill down your throat. you swallow every drop, milking him through it while the last bits of whipped cream mix with his release. he keeps your head in place for a few seconds longer, breathing heavy, before finally letting go.

you pull off with a soft pop, licking your lips clean and smiling up at him, anklet still glittering on your ankle. rafe drags his thumb across your bottom lip, eyes dark. “good fucking girl.”

[mrsbarnesblog]

˖˚⊹ for free

➤ summary: when your brother can't pay back to Rafe, he offers you as a deposit for the delay ➤ w/c: 2.6k ➤ warnings: angst with a hint of comfort, morally gray Rafe, class division, non-consentual kiss (nothing else happens after you ask him to stop), power imbalance, toxic family environment, substance abuse, crying and panicking ➤a/n: I don't know what this is because I came up with it in the middle of writing another fic. probably the darkest I can go because I truly can't depict Rafe as the bad guy

masterlist taglist

The house smelled of cheap alcohol, weed, and sweat, and it clung to everything no matter how much you tried to get rid of it. Your personal hell. You were forced into a place like this after your parents were gone, having only your older brother as the remainder of your family, and since then, every single day just seemed to get worse. 

His addictions were ruining your life. At first he was just hanging around the wrong people, getting into trouble, then he started drinking, then whatever drugs were available came into the game, and he slowly but steadily started dragging you down with him. You always kept your distance from it all, ignoring everything, having your little safe space in your room where you locked yourself up whenever his sketchy buddies paid a visit—you were fed up with comments, nasty looks, and promises to keep you entertained. 

You worked two shifts at a diner on the Cut where the only customers were other Pogues who left you tips in crumbled dollar notes, and still, your brother managed to take it all. He asked you to lend him some money “until his own payment goes through," but then started digging through your stuff to find the money you tried to hide, and now you were left with just some specks you managed to keep safe in your box of tampons under the sink.

You hated him with bone-deep fury, mostly for the fact that he was supposed to be someone you could rely on, but instead he was burning every bridge you tried to build. He knew the danger he always put you in. He just didn’t care. 

On nights like this, when your living room was full of his friends and the music was blasting, you put your chair under the doorknob, sat at the far end of your bed, and put your earphones in. They were loud, sometimes you heard the unsuccessful attempts to open your room, which always made your heart sink, always made you think back to the kitchen knife you had in your nightstand. You just had to wait it out until they would pass out unconscious or leave to another place to get high. 

Though this time the situation was different. Not even an hour in the shouting came through, pulling you away from your thoughts. The voice, different yet not fully unfamiliar, was cutting through the haze, and you had to put your ear against the door to know what was going on. Rafe Cameron was at your house. 

The famous Kook you didn’t know personally but sure as hell heard of from the countless times your brother was bitching about him. Apparently they had some kind of business, or at least something with money involved, and your brother owed Rafe. Thousands, if not tens of thousands, of dollars—something he could never fucking pay back. He was that stupid to get himself into debt, knowing damn well that he would never be able to pay it off. 

“Where the fuck is my money, you moron?" Rafe’s voice was sharp and steady, and you could physically feel how much power he had over pathetic people like your brother—scums who could not keep a single dollar for dear life. 

“The money’s comin’, Rafe… I have some shit planned, I promise.” Your brother slurred. He was already drunk or high, you couldn’t quite tell.

“You fucking promise, huh?” Rafe roared. The sound of something like glass shattering on the floor after he probably hit it out of anger. You felt how quickly your heart was beating, anxiety suddenly rising as the situation was getting more tense. You knew what to expect from your brother’s friends—drunk arguments and some fights that quickly died down when they needed to take another hit of the drug. But Rafe? He seemed much, much serious, like a man who controlled every situation, like someone who could handle business and make your life hell at the same time. 

Against your better judgement, you open your door slowly, peeking outside and then cautiously walking down the hall and stopping at the main room entrance, hoping not to be noticed. “You were feeding me these promises for fucking months, and I’m sick of you making a fool out of me. I need money. Now.”

You saw Rafe Cameron properly for the first time, and he was looking like a sore thumb in your beat-up living room—expensive clothes, a gold chain, and a family ring blinking against his skin, keys to the car that cost more than your house dangling from the hook on his jeans. He was dangerously handsome and authoritative in all his fury, looking down at your brother and his friends like they were nothing more than trash sprawled on the worn-out couch. Which was true.

His eyes snapped to you as if feeling another presence in the room, and the way he scrunched his face made your stomach drop. Shame for being associated with these people tasted bitter on your tongue.  

“Well, fuck me. Another one of your low-life pussies, I see. Jesus Christ, you really live like this? No self-respect at all?” The words felt like a slap to you because you weren’t like them. You didn’t want to be and did everything to avoid this madness like a plague. You would never fall so low as to see drugs and questionable choices as the only life entertainment. But you were frozen on your spot, unable to say nothing back to defend what was left of your dignity, just stupidly looking between Rafe, your brother, and his friends, who were awfully quiet this whole time.

“That’s my sis, man.” Your brother slurred, bringing a dark bottle back to his lips to take a chug of the drink, then letting it swing loosely from his fingers. Rafe’s lips curled again, and he ran a hand over his buzzed head. 

“Whatever.”

The argument dragged on, Rafe’s voice was getting louder, and he was visibly more upset and annoyed with every passing minute. He paced around the room, the restless energy radiating off of him. While you were standing like a shadow—mouth shut, hands wrapped around yourself like a shield. Just waiting, and you didn’t even know what exactly. 

“I don’t give a fuck, you hear me?” Rafe tipped down another empty bottle, shattering against the chipped wood on the floor. “I’m taking everything. Your beat-up car, your boat, this shithole. I’m gonna strip you bare and leave you with fucking nothing for ever playing in my face.” 

He fumed. You could see the veins on his neck, eyes dark from anger which simmered like a volcano ready to erupt. Your gaze drifted between them, nervous, and you could see the moment an idea came to your brother's head. It was like a light bulb lit above his head. His eyes cleared up for a millisecond as he looked at you with a crooked, totally sick smile. Your stomach dropped. 

“Take her.” He jerked his chin at you. “As payment. Deposit for the delay, yeah? She’s… she’s good. Clean enough. You want her? Take her for the night. Do whatever the fuck you want, she likes it. That buys me time, right?”

The room went dead silent except for the blood that pumped in your ears. Your mouth opened to say something, but the amount of betrayal and disgust you felt in that moment was unbearable. He offered you just like that. Like a piece of meat. Without even a hint of hesitation in his eyes. 

Rafe’s eyes widened in surprise, then confusion hit, and he went speechless for a long moment. He stared at you, chest heaving. Anger rolled off him in waves—you could see it in the way his fists clenched, the vein standing out on his neck, and the pure, unfiltered fury in his eyes. For a second, he looked like he might swing on your brother anyway. Then something darker flickered across his face, like he was at his breaking point. A heated, impulsive snap that was fueled by the unused energy his whole body was wired with.

“Yeah?” Rafe’s voice was low, dangerous. “You want to fucking offer her up like that? That’s how things are done here on the Cut, huh? Fine. Fuck it. I’ll get at least this from your fuckass.” He moved like a storm across the room. So fast that the one thing you could do was take a cautious, confused step back. He grabbed your arm, grip firm but not yet bruising. “You heard him. Let’s go.”

“Take her to the back room, man. She won’t fight much.”

Your mind was blank. Completely bare of all thoughts, while the man in front of you dragged you like a doll back down the hall, forcing you inside of your own room—your one and only safe space—and clicking the squeaky door shut. Rafe spun you around, pushing you back against the wall. 

In that moment you realized how much bigger and stronger he was. 

He crowded you, fully cutting off all of the chances for an escape—his body was pressing you back, his thighs pressed in between your legs to pin you down. His manly-smelling cologne was a complete difference to what you were used to, and your chest heaved up and down violently from how overwhelmed you felt. 

You were trapped. Completely. His frame blocked out the rest of the world, and the reality hit you like ice water, that he could do whatever he wanted right now. No one in the living room would stop him. No one would care, because your brother had handed you over like a bargaining chip. 

Rafe’s hand grabbed your face almost roughly, even if he didn’t intend to hurt you. He tilted your chin up, stormy eyes looking at you but so blinded by the rage that he didn’t actually register it at all. His other hand gripped your hip with the same possessiveness and roughness before he kissed you, still riding the wave of rage

It wasn’t slow or soft or respectful. It was angry and rough, the kind of kiss that demanded you take it and reply with the same passion and emotions. Rafe pressed closer, harder, his hand already sliding lower even if, at the back of his mind, he loathed it wholeheartedly. 

He didn’t even fucking want that. He wanted his money, he wanted to get Ward off his ass and get rid of the piece of shit currently rotting in your living room. And maybe he took you just out of spite, not even being aroused or in the mood to continue. 

Still, he expected compliance. He expected you to give in, to play along, the way he supposed you used to do for everybody. Maybe that was really the way you were navigating your life. 

But you didn’t. A broken sob tore out of your throat when your mind finally caught up. Tears came next. Fat drops slid down your face non-stop, wetting his fingers on your face and mixing with the spit on your lips. You started pushing at Rafe’s chest with the little power that your trembling hands had, clawing at his shirt, twisting in his hold desperately like an animal who got stuck in a trap. 

Your frantic actions had little to no success in physically moving him, but it was enough for Rafe to lean back away from you. The moment you could breathe, your face turned to the side, your voice small and desperate, as you begged. 

“No—please—stop!” The words came out hysterical, choked by tears that spilled hot and fast down your cheeks. Your whole body shook uncontrollably. “Don’t— I’m not— please, Rafe, don’t—”

He froze. The hand on your chin loosened, and he was finally able to see you. Your eyes were red and wide, terrified because of him, because of the situation. Your lips trembled and your chest heaved with panicked breaths. For the first time since he’d stormed into the house, the blind fury in his expression cracked.

Rafe stepped back fully. You slid down the wall, now too weak and completely defeated, hugging your knees as the sobs kept coming out. 

“Fuck…” The word left him in a harsh exhale. He looked around your room for the first time: a neatly made bed with clean sheets, a small shelf of thrift-store books, your uniform on the chair, a couple of plants on the windowsill, and the little string of fairy lights you’d hung years ago to make the space feel less like a cage. It was poor, yes—cheap as hell—but clean. Warm. Then the scent hit him. Not alcohol, or weed, or whatever the fuck people were smoking in the living room, but something sweet and calming. A desperate attempt at safety in the middle of hell. A stark, painful contrast to the disaster zone in the living room.

Rafe’s hands ran over his buzzed head as he looked down at you with a mix of guilt, disgust with himself, and still-simmering anger. 

“Jesus, what the fuck am I doing?” He muttered, crouching in front of you. “Hey, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for this. It’s fucked up. I shouldn’t have." 

“He’s lying." You hiccuped, wiping at your face. “I’m working. I’m trying to save money. I’m not… this, and I hate him so damn much.” Your head tipped back with a soft thud against the wall. “He keeps dragging me down. He just—he steals everything, all the money that I earn. He brings them here, and I lock the door because I’m scared of what they might do.” Your face twisted. Rafe's nostrils flared at your words, at how much more fucked up the situation has become.  

“I’m not gonna hurt you. I should’ve punched him the moment he opened his damn mouth, fuck.” Rafe groaned, running a hand over his face. He was fucking tired, and now seeing an unprotected vulnerable girl crying in front of him because her brother was ready to sell her added a splash of guilt and sympathy to his fatigue. 

You finally managed to look at him, your eyes red-rimmed and still scared, but now clearly a bit more calm, as if his words gave you reassurance that he was not going to use you to his advantage. Up close and with a bit less drive, Rafe didn’t look as scary, a hint of softness just barely seeped through the cracks, and you felt like he allowed it just to give you some comfort. 

“I still need my money, you understand that, right?” His voice was soft. You nodded. “I will take everything from him, I will make him pay every penny even if he has to sell his own ass. I guarantee that.” Rafe thought over his words, hands loosely hanging in between his legs, while he observed your reaction. “But if you promise me that you’ll cut all ties with him, I will help you. New place. Some work that doesn’t suck and pays well.”

He reached out slowly, not to grab, but to brush a tear from your cheek with surprising gentleness. His hand lingered for a second before dropping.

“Why?”

“You don’t look like you deserve it. You shouldn’t pay for his fuck-ups. I’m not a saint either, but I’ll help if I can.” The room felt smaller, heavier. Your sobs quieted into shaky breaths. Rafe stayed crouched there, watching you, the storm in his eyes slowly settling. “What do you say? You want out of this life?”

The music still thumped dully from the living room as a reminder. Your brother’s laughter filtered through the walls like he was careless about what could’ve been happening with you now.

You nodded slowly, tears still falling, voice barely a whisper.

“…Yes. Please.”

tags: @buzzingbey @liyahhhh620 @rafeismyking @rafessbaby @bebebambs @obxfx @hazzarules @rafesslut @lotuslovers @rafespeach @simp4norris @disaster-rose @kc2sstuff @ivy-34 @chloe156 @snh650 @r0vena @shytypeaq @broadwayking728 @thatgurlthatlivesinkansas777 @magicalyoura1 @kaysedanae @solaceluna @dabaddestfatty @isabellatb1234 @leisocool @sexyperfhothumble @bonesofall @rafeeekam @ssugartalkin @lozthevicky @skankhvnt42 @brat0arc @superlegend216 @drewstrkygf @iheartduster @drewstarkeyswife-7 @paankhaleyaaar @simp4f1 @anilovessadbooks @fdl305 @watersquirtpewpewboomm @heathandrewstarkey @loveislikeathunder @alexxavicry @cameronsbgg @bonni-98 @Clairesmybaby @lissaexe @kinkylovrrr

[leonalovesalot]

Everybody loves you, but nobody likes you

RafeCameron x Reader

In which Rafe and JJ get into a fight that escalates—landing Rafe in the hospital. You’re the only one who cares enough to check if he’s okay.

wc: 3.8k

My little offering to @zyafics 's MRGA campaign! I think it's such a great idea, and I love all the works coming from it <3

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“Wait, what happened?” Your words cut through the chaos that glommed onto the pogues.

JJ grabbed the ice pack from Pope, and placed it on his jaw with a hiss. He nodded to Sarah to respond to you.

“JJ and Rafe got into it again.” She said bluntly, like it was an everyday occurrence that shouldn’t be met with the shock that you possessed.

You shake your head quickly. “No- no. The part about the bat.”

“Oh, that.” JJ chuckles sadistically, “yeah, I hit him with a bat— right over the head.” He pointed to the back of his head.

Pope chimed in, “it was a long time coming too.”

You stood there with your eyes widened. “Isn’t that a little too far? I- you guys usually use fists, not weapons.”

Everyone turned to face you with identically confused looks. What were you on about? What did you feel? Concern? Disapproval? Why? It’s Rafe. He makes the pogues life a living hell, and though you’re not a pogue, you still detest his behaviour.

Your relationship with Rafe wasn't complicated because, well, it didn’t exist. The two of you knew each other like all kooks kind of know each other. Nods at parties and waves at the wreck. Nothing more. You were always closer to Sarah because she was your age and Rafe was just her older, short-tempered, brother. You stayed out of his way as he seemed like the guy that loathed everyone. But what you didn’t know was that, out of all of Sarah’s friends, he liked you the most. Nothing crazy— not like he bending over backwards for your attention. But, he did sometimes feel a little fuzzy when you’d acknowledge him.

“What’s the big deal? Are we forgetting about the time he and Top literally hit Pope with golf clubs?” Kiara brought up a good point and you felt bad that you had kind of forgotten about that.

You clumsily respond, “that wasn’t to the head. And it didn’t land him in the hospital.” Satisfied with your reasoning, you shook your head and grabbed your jacket and keys, ready to leave.

Pope scoffed and JJ stared at you with a slightly hurt expression. “Can’t believe you’re taking his side.” Pope commented under his breath.

It made you stop in your steps. “I’m not taking sides— I’ve never been on any side ever. This exhausting rivalry is childish, and it’s making everyone act like fucking murderers.” With that, you left.

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There weren’t many thoughts in your mind as you drove to the hospital. If there were, you would’ve turned around and went home because why in the world were you going to see Rafe? And why was this making you so emotional? Maybe it was due to the substantiality of a hospital. None of these petty fights ever ended in the sirens and stretchers. None that you knew of, at least.

"Name?" The receptionist asked you through a yawn.

You state your name and nervously tap your foot. It was weird. The whole night was weird. You weren’t really sure what you wanted with Rafe, but every time your mind flashed to the image of him lying alone in a hospital room, clutching his head, your worry felt justified. Checking in on him just seemed like the decent thing to do.

This Pogue-versus-Kook war had gone on long enough, and if no one else was willing to cross the line, you would.

"What's your relation to the patient?" she asked, typing away at her computer, unaware of the unintentional difficulty of her question. What’s the word for two people who grew up together, but were also technically strangers?

"Does that matter?" You cringed as you asked.

Her fingers paused on the keyboard and she looked at you with an arched brow. "Ma'am, we have a lot of foot traffic at this moment and Mr. Cameron hasn't informed us of the arrival of any visitors. So, if it isn't pressing, I suggest you come back tomorrow— or see Mr. Cameron when he's discharged—"

“Girlfriend!” You panic and chirp, "I'm his girlfriend."

It felt unnatural to say but it was the only thing you could think of. Sister was out of the question and it wasn't like you could pass as his Mom.

You expected her to call your bluff and send you off, but she was... surprised?

"Oh? Is that right?"

Your brows furrowed as you racked your brain, trying to make sense of her reaction. Rafe was popular—successful with the ladies, too. Sure, the relationships didn't last long, but he never left a party alone.

"Yes," you nod kissing your teeth, "that is right."

She shrugs and continues, "it's just unexpected, that’s all." Leaning over to hand you a visitor tag, she mumbled, "I guess there really is someone for everybody."

"What does that— why do you say that?"

"You tell me. Mr. Cameron was brought here after brawl, that he most likely initiated. He rode the ambulance alone and no one, besides you paid him a visit." She added, "not even his parents."

Your lips parted at her words. It was kind of upsetting when she put it liked that. You swallow, "they're busy, probably."

“No parent should be too busy for their child — especially when that child is in the hospital with a concussion.” She left you with those heavy words and pointed you towards Rafe’s room.

When you reached his door, you paused before knocking— afraid to be faced with anger and rejection. This was Rafe after all. It's not like he was some well-adjusted guy who had no issue showing vulnerability. No, this was the guy who drowned his sorrows with alcohol and drugs. To top it off, he knew you were JJ's friend. Would he hate you just by association?

"I can see you standing out there." His slurred words make you freeze.

With a deep breath in, you entered the room. When his eyes met yours, surprise flashed across his face. He couldn't tell it was you from through the door. His vision was a little blurry too, so that didn't help.

"Hi," you offered weakly. You stayed standing at the doorway with your hands clasped in front of you.

"Y/N?" He adjusted with a groan as he sat up. "I don't get it. Why're you here?"

Okay. He wasn't immediately throwing things at you to kick you out of the room. There was no anger in his voice, or rejection in his tone. Just pure curiosity. You could handle curiosity.

"I heard about what happened." You kept it brief and decided not to mention JJ for now. You knew that people with concussions shouldn't be stressed out, even in the slightest. And you're pretty sure that just the mention of JJ's name would cause smoke to come out of his ears.

After a few seconds he just uttered a, "so?"

You blinked at him, unsure how to respond. “So… so I wanted to see how- how you were.”

He raised his arm to gesture at himself in a how-do-you-think-I-am sort of way, but stopped when a sharp pain shot through his shoulder. He grunted. “Wish I could say ‘you should see the other guy,’ but today, the other guy is me.” His words were bitter, but his face told a different story—a faint curl of his lip. Barely there. But you didn’t miss it.

“Well,” you slowly walk into the room and stand at the foot of the bed, “you win some, you lose some.”

He clicked his tongue as a flicker of anger returned, making you regret not changing the subject when you had the chance. “Yeah, and I intend to win the next.”

His words were met with silence. It’s not like you were going to agree with him, but you also couldn’t bring yourself to disagree as that would lead to an argument. He’d always had a short fuse. His emotions controlled him and, although, you could relate to an extent, Rafe often took things too far.

Even though you stayed quiet, Rafe began to explain himself. “I was lying there, on the ground, while JJ was being carried off by his friends. No one rushed to help me, y’know? Not even my own sister. You realize how shitty that made me feel? Like I was worthless or something.” He turned away from you to look at the window, but you didn’t miss how his eyes blinked rapidly to push down his tears.

All you could do was nod. Not in agreement, but acknowledgement.

He continued, “If you were there tonight, who would you have helped?” His eyes met yours again, filled with desperation—like he just needed someone, anyone, to say they cared. To say he meant something to them.

But you couldn’t give him that, because he was in the wrong. And you wouldn’t be convinced otherwise. You settled on saying, “probably the person who didn’t start the fight.”

He takes in a shaky breath, “oh, so- so JJ.”

You didn’t nod. You didn’t move. Just tried to shoot him an apologetic smile.

“What if it was the other way around?” Rafe questioned again.

“Then I’d help you,” you paused and chuckled lightly, “and scold JJ.”

He mirrored you and weakly laughed too. “Is that why you’re here then? To scold me?”

The mood was lightening so you mentally patted yourself on the back for being the reason. It was eye-opening too because, in your head, Rafe was this belligerent tornado. And maybe it was the painkillers or the concussion, but right now he was being sweet. It made you wonder whether the Rafe you knew was just a persona— a mask he wore to stop others from getting close. And this Rafe was really him underneath it all. A little shy. A little insecure. And very cute.

“I was… but then your concussion ruined my plans.” It was very obviously a joke. However, it did have you facing the sudden realization that you came all the way here because you were worried. About him. Rafe.

Another chuckle escaped him. “Hm… that’s disappointing. I would’ve loved to see you really lay into me.” His smirk, this time, was more clear.

A chill ran up your spine. It was interesting how even after getting hit in the head with a bat, Rafe couldn’t stop himself from attempting to flirt with you. He’d act like this for anyone. At least that’s what you told yourself.

“Be careful what you wish for,” you snicker, trying (and failing) to sound smooth. “I can be really scary.”

Rafe adjusted on the bed to lay down again. He rested his head against the pillows to get a little comfortable. When he found the right position, he patted the small space on the bed next to his thighs, inviting you closer. Your eyes widened momentarily because you weren’t sure if you were reading him right. He noticed and softly nodded.

So you walked over to the bed and almost stumbled in doing so. Almost. Sometimes when you thought about yourself and exactly what you were doing, you’d make mistakes. And the way his eyes followed your every step only made you more nervous. This was Rafe, your thoughts kept screaming. You’d barely ever had a conversation this long with him. And now that you had, you didn’t want it to end.

When you took a seat at the edge of his bed, he shifted his legs to give you as much room as he could. You pursed your lips and scooted a little further. When you’d imagine how you looked from outside your body, you couldn’t believe your eyes. Rafe laying down, and you sitting with him. Like you were actually his girlfriend or something.

He hummed in satisfaction. “You don’t look so scary up close.” His voice was quieter—not because he didn’t want you to hear him, but because he only wanted you to hear him.

"Thank you." It was the only response you could think of, so you nodded and avoided his gaze. "I guess."

Rafe enjoyed you. Your words, your voice, your mannerisms. The comforting presence you carried that made him all soft. He always thought you were too good for everyone. Not in a snooty way, but in a moral one. No one had anything against you. Except in the recent years with your switching sides and all.

Growing up, you stayed in a little bubble that only had room for Sarah— never branching out due to your introversion. But when one day Pope offered to explain a vector multiplication question to you, you had an itch to befriend him. And so you did. After that, he introduced you to the others, and they took a liking to you too. Since then, you were all joint at the hips.

This all hit Rafe at once, and he couldn't stop his expression from twisting into a scowl. You didn't notice though— too busy hoping he couldn't see the faint blush rising on your cheeks.

It was like a switch was flipped, and he couldn't stop himself from ruining the perfect moment. "You shouldn't be friends with them." He said with slight disgust in his voice.

Your brows furrowed and you snapped your head to look at him. "What? Who?" For a moment you existed in a world where Rafe was just a person who happened to be injured. But Rafe wasn't just a person. He was a kook too, and it seemed like he'd never let you forget that.

"The pogues— fucking JJ." He spat bitterly.

You sighed, exhausted. "Why does it matter to you, Rafe?" Your eyes stared down at your hands in your lap as you mourned the peaceful conversation that ended too soon.

"It matters because you're not one of them. They- they're dangerous. You really wanna be friends with someone who goes around bashing heads in?" He wanted to grab your chin and make you look at him.

"JJ's never done that before." You mumbled.

A sharp scoff makes you flinch. "That doesn't mean he won't do it again! And the fact that he thinks he got away with it this time..." Rafe shakes his head as his voice trails on, "I'm gonna have him locked up just like his Father."

That was the final straw. Without hesitation, you stood up with the intention of leaving and never turning back. There was a reason no one gave a shit about him being in the hospital.

This was a waste of time.

Shock and panic consumed Rafe, and any contempt he held for the Pogues vanished instantly. His body moved before his thoughts could stop him—he sat up and reached forward, desperate to clutch you and keep you there. But the pain you’d distracted him from ripped through him, pulling a strangled groan from his throat. What hurt worse, though, was how you didn’t look back.

"Wait- wait, Y/N." He was breathless. Helpless.

Something about the sound of his voice made you halt in your tracks. "What?" You asked with your back still turned to him.

"Stay," he choked out. "Please."

It wasn't enough. You looked down and chewed on your lip deciding what to do.

Rafe realized he'd do anything to get you to stay— beg you even. And he didn't understand why or even how he felt this way. "Sorry. I just— sorry." He sounded defeated, but sincere.

Apologies didn't mean much to you if there wasn't some change in behaviour to accommodate them. However, you knew Rafe would rather jump off a cliff than admit to his mistakes. So this was a big deal. A big step.

You swallow and turn back around. Rafe visibly looked relieved which had you feeling a little funny. Walking over to his bed, you took a seat again. But not next to his thigh, like earlier, but a lot further down. He felt a sting and had to remind himself that at least you stayed.

You cleared your throat and took the silence as an opportunity to change the topic. Not that you still weren’t upset with him. But there was no point in beating a dead horse. “Do you know when you’ll be discharged?”

Rafe was grateful for how quickly you were able to shift the conversation back to how it was— before he fucked it up. “I'm here for overnight observation, they said. I’ll go home tomorrow.”

You nod at his words. “That’s nice.” Playfully you add, “I’ll get to reprimand you sooner than I thought.”

He laughed, this time more obviously like he wanted you to know you made him happy. It felt a bit like he was overcompensating, but you found it endearing. He wanted to respond and say something like I don’t mind as long as I get to see you again or you’re the only one I’d let do that, y’know? But the words got caught in his throat. And he had a feeling it was for the best because, again, you were too good for him.

“Do you ever miss your old life?” His question surprised you.

“My old life?” You tilted your head.

“Yeah." He nods and runs his tongue across his lower lip to make the chapped feeling go away (you felt ashamed for staring). "I used to see you at the parties— not just mine, but also Topper's." He paused. "Sarah always followed the action, and you always followed Sarah." He chuckles lightly, remembering you back then. He’d see you at those events and almost feel sorry for you—how out of place you looked. It was quite adorable.

Your mind flashed with images of those nights. The nights that turned into mornings. The walk back up your driveway as the sun climbed over the horizon behind you. It was all fitting for the carefree high schooler that you were— keyword being were. When you got to university, you no longer felt the need to pretend to be that person. You enjoyed the quiet. Nights spent with the pogues, sitting around a fire and laughing, was the perfect way to spend your time. You wouldn't want it any other way, and sometimes you wished you'd found them sooner.

"I miss being a teenager, sure. But the rest of it— not so much. I think I'm finally content with where I am and, although you won't be pleased to hear it, I owe a lot of it to the pogues." You smiled softly at the answer.

Rafe felt an unexpected pinch of jealousy at your answer. He wondered if he'd ever had that sort of impact on anyone. If he'd ever changed someone's life for the better. But he came up short.

You noticed Rafe was in his head. He didn't respond to you, so you hesitantly returned the question. "What about you?"

He snapped out of his depressing thoughts, and quirked a brow at you.

You continue, "are you happy with where you are?" You were aware at how heavy and private the question was. But your curiosity (nosiness) overpowered your respect for boundaries.

His gaze was making you feel small. But it was the same for him too. It's like he wanted to impress you, but also scare you like he usually did with others. Right now, though, behind his eyes were millions of thoughts and worries about whether he should actually tell you the truth or not. Who were you to ask him that anyway?

"I don't know." It was all he could offer. He hoped you wouldn't question him further.

"What do you mean you don't know?" You asked without skipping a beat.

He sighed and brought his hand up to scratch the side of his neck. A nervous tick, you thought. "I mean: I don't know." He took a deep breath, "I get high a lot— but you probably know that." Rafe's eyes left yours and landed on the window again. He was embarrassed and didn't want you to seem him this way— didn't want you to see the truth. "And- and then at parties, I get wasted. Golf with the guys is also just an excuse to drink during the day." It felt like he was in confession with a priest. "So I don't have much time to think about whether I'm happy. But I guess that's the point."

You were surprised at the transparency. Rafe Cameron told you things he never thought he'd say out loud. But maybe, it was because no one had cared enough to ask.

Unsure if you should comfort him or dig deeper and psychoanalyze him, you stay quiet. You sigh and stand up, which has Rafe panicking again. Had he scared you off? Was this too much for you? But then you moved closer to the spot you originally sat at, next to his waist, and planted yourself there again. Rafe mentally fist pumped, feeling like he won the lottery.

"Would you, uhm— and you can say no," you began timidly.

Rafe noticed your hesitation and reached out to place his hand atop yours. It was an encouraging gesture. An attempt to push you to continue. After his revealing monologue, he felt like a weight had been lifted off his chest. A wonderful feeling that you gifted to him.

His hand on yours made your fingers twitch. You were afraid that if you made any big or sudden movement, he'd retract and go back into his shell, which was the last thing you wanted. It was a little cool— his hand— calloused and cool. But you liked it, nonetheless.

Gathering every ounce of courage in your body, you spoke again. "If you're up for it, would you want to hang out sometime?" Quickly adding, "after you're all better, of course!"

Rafe felt giddy.

The last time he felt this way was when his father took him out of school early on his birthday. When he was eight. It was a warm sensation, accompanied by the need to jump up and down from sheer joy. He wouldn't mind getting used to it.

He tried to keep his cool and stuttered out, "yeah— no, yeah. I'm up for it, sure. Yeah."

A big smile slapped across your face and before you could respond, the door opened and a nurse stepped into the room.

"Mr. Cameron, you should turn in for the night. Your recovery requires a lot of sleep. Your girlfriend can come back tomorrow morning." With that she left the room, leaving you to pick your jaw up from off the floor.

"Girlfriend, huh?" Rafe teased.

You jumped off the hospital bed and avoided looking at him— too flustered to do so. You knew your face was a blushing mess, so you quickly walked to the door, almost tripping over your own feet in the process. Ugh, you hoped the ground would swallow you up.

"I'll see you soon! Hope you feel better!" Your words came out all breathy as you ran out of the room, and down the hall.

Rafe was too enamoured to sleep that night.

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First time writing for Rafe!!

Thank you for reading <3

I'd love to write more for him too because helloooooo look at him!!

[leonalovesalot]

'Cause you chose loyalty

RafeCameron x Reader

Unknowingly dating your ex's friend.

wc: 2.0k

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It was truly a big "fuck you" from the universe when you had gone months without seeing your ex-... boyfriend? No, you never made it official. Ex-lover? Ew. Ex-situationship? Oh God that's worse. Ex-fling? Yeah, sure. Anyways, a big "fuck you" from the universe when you'd gone months without seeing your ex-fling, and the one night you really really weren't expecting him, he materializes.

Maybe it was your fault for getting too comfortable. You actually noticed that these days. The moment things seemed settled and you let out that big breath you'd been holding in, everything went awry. So awry that you were standing face-to-face with Rafe, your ex-fling, and Charlie, your current ... fling (you hadn't had the "what are we" conversation yet).

"Wait, I'm confused... you guys know each other already?" Charlie moved his head side to side, guaging your's and Rafe's unreadable expressions.

You snapped out of your shock and stuttered out a sentence. "No! I mean yeah... yes. But not that well, I mean we went out at one point but I barely remember it." You chuckle awkwardly, "so long ago!"

Rafe understood what you were trying to do and nodded slowly. "Oh, yeah. So long ago-- barely remem- we only hooked up like once." He shrugs, trying to downplay the whole thing for Charlie.

"Twice."

"Thought you had a bad memory about the whole situation."

"Not that bad."

Okay, maybe you were still a little upset about him. It didn't matter though, you had a new fling/potential future boyfriend to see to.

"Wow, what a... uhm small world." Charlie rocks back and forth on his heel. "This isn't how I imagined our little reunion, Rafe." He smiles, ears turning pinkish.

The party grew louder around the three of you but you all had each others' undivided attention.

"Me neither, man." Rafe pats Charlie's shoulder. "But it is really good to see you again." He meets your gaze and the playful glint from earlier softens. "It was nice to see you and... and hear you." His words surprise him and he blames the alcohol for his loose lips. Clearing his throat, he tries again, "hearing from you... uhm both of you, of course. The beautiful couple!" Rafe prayed to God the ground would swallow him whole. "I'm gonna go get another drink uhm ... yeah." With that, he walks away.

Charlie speaks first, and you were eternally thankful for it.

"I hope this doesn't step on... our thing at all."

Relief washes over you and you shake your head. "Not at all. I mean neither of us knew. And it was a long time ago... super shortlived too."

He smiles finally and interlocks your hand in his walking you to the kitchen island. It was crowded with snacks and booze. A long night awaited you. A night you'd most likely forget.

.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._..

The dancing, drinking, and laughing had been too much for your bladder. So you were waiting behind a few people for the bathroom. You stood with your legs glued to each other, scared you'd burst any second.

Unable to bear the wait, you rushed upstairs and used the bathroom at the end of the hallway. You knew upstairs was off limits but surely the host would understand an emergency.

After finally doing your business, you were ready to join your friends again. You washed your hands and the scent of lavender wafted towards your nose. You made a mental note to get a perfume of the same fragrance.

Wiping your hands on your T-shirt, you walked out of the bathroom only to bump into something hard.

Or, well, someone.

“What the hell?” You exclaimed.

The little jumpscare had distracted you from Rafe basically dragging you back into the bathroom and locking the door behind him.

“What— what are you doing?” You tone consisted less of surprise, and mostly of irritation.

“You’ve been dodging me all night.” He crosses his arms over his chest. He said those words like it was the obvious and logical thing for him to do.

“Dodging?” You furrowed your brows.

“Avoiding me. Everytime I show up where you are, you leave and go somewhere else.”

“I didn’t realize I was doing that.” You were being honest. Then something dawned on you, “and even if I was, what’s it to you?” It was your turn to cross your arms. “Hm? What does it matter? It’s not like we’re friends or something.”

He scoffs, “yeah, clearly. Definitely not after this stunt of yours.”

“What stunt?”

“Are you kidding?”

“Does it look like I am?”

It didn’t.

“Charlie,” Rafe gestures to the bathroom door as if Charlie was standing right outside. “Dating him to get my attention?”

Your mouth fell agape. He doesn’t actually believe that does he?

“You’ve lost your mind.” You step forward to somehow slide through the little space he left, to get to the door. However, he quickly sidesteps and blocks you.

“What? Am I wrong?”

“You couldn’t BE more wrong actually. I mean, fuck, I didn’t know you two were friends! If I had, I would’ve never agreed to go out with him. I'm not that kind of person."

“You don’t expect me to believe that do you?” He tilts his head, and stares with an unfamiliar intensity.

“I do actually. I have enough self respect to not come crawling back to the guy who threw me away like I was disposable.”

Your eyes felt a little wet, and your throat a little tight. Woah. It had been almost five months since he dumped you, and it was clearly still a touchy subject.

Rafe was taken aback by your sudden truth bomb. It was a side of you he’d never seen before. Actually, all of this evening was a side he’d never seen. The two of you went out for two months and the whole time you were quite shy and soft spoken. He thought you were really sweet and… good for him. But this side of you was interesting too. Multifaceted. He liked it.

Your relationship was new and confusing for him. Maybe that’s why he couldn’t handle it for too long. People always eventually retreat back to their comfort zone.

You were a bright light. Kind and considerate. From day one, you were exactly what you showed. There were no mind games with you, which was unfamiliar to him. The kooks he’d went out with felt soulless in comparison to you. He felt soulless in comparison to you.

And after things ended, he actually felt something. Something he hadn't felt in a … well maybe he’d never felt it.

Ache.

Not the physical kind, but somewhere deep inside. He couldn’t sleep that night, which might have been a sign that breaking up with you wasn’t the right decision. And it honestly pissed him off how great you had taken it too. A ray of sunshine ‘til the very end. No big scene. No throwing a drink in his face. No screaming. No insults. Nothing. Just a nod, and an “oh okay.”

Maybe you didn't care as much.

That ache was strong too. He remembered your smile, your laugh, the concentration in your eyes when you listened to something he said. He wasn’t much of a talker but with you, he was coming around to the concept.

You, on the other hand, loved talking to him. He knows that because you told him. It was a simple comment but it made him blush like crazy. He had to go to excuse himself and go to the bathroom to fan himself. He’d never done that before.

He loved the sound of your voice too. And you knew that, because he told you. He’d never said that before. Around you, it was like his thoughts shot out of his mouth before he could get the chance to filter them. It was over a phone call, he remembers. A quiet, “I really wanted to hear you.” He felt like a creep, but when he heard a giggle, he knew it was okay.

But these words. Threw me away like I was disposable. They were like a slap in the face. Is that how you saw it? Is that how you saw him? Didn’t you see he was different with you? Why couldn’t you see that?

“I- I didn’t… I didn’t throw you away.” He collected himself. “I told you that day, I… I was mentally checked out. I wasn’t in the right headspace.”

“Yeah, you don’t have to repeat all of that. I remember.” You sniffled and looked down. “And I'm sorry but I thought that was just an excuse.”

“An excuse? Y/N, I was being honest. I- I can’t believe- I thought you cared about mental health, majoring in psychology and shit.”

“Physiology.” You corrected him.

“Same thing,” he purses his lips.

You chuckled at his response. Half anger, half actually finding it funny.

“You can't blame me, okay? Your timing was suspicious and given your history-" You cut yourself off. It was rude to go there; to stereotype.

Rafe stared in confusion. "How was the timing suspicious? What does that even mean?"

You took a deep breath. You only ever had this conversation in the mirror when you angrily rattled off about all the things you should have said the day he dumped you. You imagined giving him a piece of your mind and leaving him stunned. But, no. You kindly took his words and swallowed your own. Staying polite, because... and you're ashamed to admit this... you didn't want to completely close the door on him. Yes, some sad part of you decided against being bitter so he could see how smooth you handled the situation which would leave him impressed and full of regret and begging for your attention again--

"Rafe, we went out three times." You tried your best to not back down now. Full eye contact. Mental power pose. "The third time, things went a little further than just... y'know making out, and you wanted to... y'know." You were hoping he would fill in the blanks mentally.

"Fuck."

Or verbally.

"Mhm. And I remember I told you I didn't want to that night." God, this was painfully awkward. Still you pushed through. "And it was all fine the next morning, we had a nice breakfast. You left in the afternoon and then... then you ghosted me for like two weeks." You felt a familiar anger rising again as you recounted the events. "And then you call me out of the blue... say it's nice to hear my voice... ask me to come for a walk in the park. I-I'm over here like an idiot thinking everything's good and maybe you were just busy or something, even though that's not really an excuse. But hey, we were still getting to know each other. Then I see you, we have a normal conversation, and then you dump me."

Somewhere during that little monologue, your eyes had wandered away from his. Vulnerability, you now realized, wasn't your strong suit.

"I mean... how am I not gonna think it had something to do with me not wanting to... y'know."

Rafe was horrified.

How could this become so twisted in your mind? That's not at all what happened. Here he was thinking he was being mature and letting you go because you were too good for him. You couldn't handle the post-honeymoon phase Rafe. You shouldn't handle him. He didn't deserve to bring you down with him and his unhealthy habits. But how could he tell you that? Alone in the bathroom of a party of some guy he knew from his high school lacrosse team.

He shook his head and decided to clear the air.

"Y/N, you're wrong... trust me."

But before he could launch into his little monologue, there was a knock on the bathroom door.

"Y/N, are you okay in there? It's been a while." Charlie's voice came from the other side of the door.

Rafe looked at you and silently pleaded for you to not say anything. To continue. To get to the bottom of this mess. To get closure.

But you had enough. You were exhausted and angry.

"I'll be right out."

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I think there will be a part 2, but I just had to get this out of my system. Super cathartic.

Thank you for reading :))

[rafesteddy]

𝚂𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚙 𝚂𝚝𝚞𝚍𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐… 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓡𝓮𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓭𝓼?

𝒩𝑒𝓇𝒹!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝓍 𝒮𝑜𝓇𝑜𝓇𝒾𝓉𝓎 𝒫𝓇𝑒𝓈𝒾𝒹𝑒𝓃𝓉!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

4.6K words

c/w ᝰ.ᐟ strip studying w/ rewards, heavy praise, oral (fem. receiving) while he m@sterbates, unprotected p in v, spanking, physically sensitive reader, teasing, creampie, pet names (baby, pretty + no y/n), reader gets academically manipulated in the hottest way possible + glasses stay on ᰄ

“Holy shit,” you mutter.

The flashcard drops back onto the bed as you drag both hands down your face, squeezing your eyes shut. You draw a deep breath, letting it out slowly, trying to force your shoulders to relax. It doesn’t help.

Chapter meetings, recruitment prep, philanthropy planning, classes, and another event this weekend—all of it piling up while you’re somehow supposed to memorize half a textbook too.

“I can’t do this,” you hiss.

You snatch another card from the pile, reading the question twice before your mind goes completely blank. Nothing. Not even a guess.

“Seriously?”

You toss it onto the bed with the rest, frustration bubbling up in your chest. You know this isn’t really about the flashcards. It hasn’t been for a while now.

It’s every obligation stacking on top of each other until even something as simple as studying feels impossible.

You pull another card from the stack, forcing yourself to slow down. One question. That’s all.

“Okay…” you whisper.

Your eyes scan the card once more before the answer finally clicks.

“Alright.”

A win. Small, sure. But hey, it’s something. A smile tugs at your lips, real enough to crack the pressure that’s been building all night.

For a second, it feels manageable—like maybe you can actually get through this one card, then the next, then the next.

Your shoulders loosen just a fraction, tension easing as you let out another breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

Your phone buzzes on the mattress, and you look down at it, a text message from your Vice President asking you to weigh in on something that absolutely could’ve waited, throwing you off your schedule—and off your game for the moment.

The quiet stretches for a beat, the soft rustle of paper the only sound as your fingers hover over the next card, hesitating.

You grab it and flip it over, looking down at it, letting your eyes shut when you see a word you know you know. I mean, how could you not know this shit?

The doorknob twists.

Your head snaps toward the sound, wide eyes meeting Rafe’s the second he steps inside—fresh from the shower, damp hair disappearing beneath a backwards hat, dirty blonde strands escaping around the brim.

A fitted polo hugs his broad shoulders, tucked just enough to look intentional without trying too hard, khaki shorts sitting low on his hips.

His skin still glows from the shower, smelling faintly of the cologne you bought him for his birthday and the soap that always clings to your sheets long after he leaves.

“Baby?” he chuckles, lifting an eyebrow in your direction. “You okay?”

He nudges his glasses a little higher on his nose, looking at you like he already knows the answer.

“Mhmm… Yeah.” You laugh weakly. “M’trying to study. I’m done. I’m just—I’m fucked.” The cards slip from your fingers, fluttering down to the comforter.

“You’re not fucked,” he sighs. “Didn’t hear my name gettin’ screamed outside your door now, did I?”

Your lips pull to the side, fighting off a smile, heat blooming in your cheeks as he crawls onto the bed.

“Plus, you’re fully clothed, pretty,” he mumbles, tilting in when he gets close enough, pressing a kiss to your neck. “Fuckin’ hate that for me.”

You giggle, turning into him a little more, feeling him smile into your skin, your body instantly sinking, hoping he’ll crawl the rest of the way on top and pin you underneath him.

“Where are you goin’, huh?” he asks, his voice deep and warm against your neck.

“I wanna be done,” you whisper, tugging at the front of his shirt, seeing the space between you—his deep v-lines disappearing below his shorts, all that tanned skin making it impossible to think about anything else.

“Don’t wanna work anymore, huh? Why are you bein’ such a baby?” he teases.

“Am not.”

“Are too,” he snickers. As you continue your childish back-and-forth, the stubble on his cheek scrapes lightly over your soft skin. “Let me help you.”

“Not with this,” you pout. Studying isn’t what you want from him. Right now, you just want him.

“Think I can help you with somethin’ else?” He grabs your face, squishing your cheeks, kissing you tenderly.

“I know you can,” you whisper.

“You using me for my body right now?” he teases, and you nod. “Thank you.” You giggle at his response, nails slipping around to rake up the broad expanse of his back. “But it’s not gonna work.”

“Why?”

“‘Cause we have a test tomorrow.”

“Forgive me for wanting my boyfriend.”

“Stop,” he rasps with a warm laugh, letting his head fall heavy against your shoulder. “You’re just bein’ a brat. Shit’s not gonna work with me.”

“Whatever,” you mumble.

“Whatever, huh?” he asks as his rough finger slides a little further up your thigh, tracing under the hem of your shorts, making your hips shift. “So sensitive, baby.”

“Rafe…”

“Just sayin’,” he whispers.

You slap your hands against the bed as he crashes down beside you. He scoops up a few neon cards, his grin widening as his big arm wraps behind your back, palm settling beside your hip.

He kisses your cheek, and you roll your eyes, rearranging the little stack in your hands.

“For the record, Cameron. A distraction would have been preferred,” you whisper, leaning into him, that scowl playing on your lips, jerking away when he tickles you. “Enough,” you scold, grabbing his wrist.

“Just gotta get you out of your head, baby,” he hums before his attention gets pulled away.

Your phone vibrates on the mattress—a text from one of your younger sisters in the chapter flashes across the screen. Rafe reaches over, grabs your phone off the bed, and sets it aside before you can check it.

“I need to answer that.”

“Bullshit, you don’t.” He gives you a side eye. “See how attentive you were a minute ago? You got this. Just gotta focus on what’s happening right here.”

“Mhmm,” you hum bitterly. He reaches out, fingers wrapping around your jaw to turn you toward him.

“Studying isn’t half-bad with me, I promise.” His plush lips meet yours, kissing you deeply, chuckling into the kiss when you chase his lips, not wanting to stop. "Ready?"

“No,” you whisper, sucking in a breath when his hand comes and rests on your upper thigh, squeezing down, making your thigh draw in, chills crawling up your spine. “Don’t you have chess?”

“Not for a bit,” he answers. “Stop fightin’ it, baby.”

Rafe’s arm hooks around your waist, drawing you closer in his lap as you split his legs. You lean back into his broad chest, and he snuggles close, breathing you in for a moment.

“How hard can this class be, baby? We got this,” he mumbles against your skin, foregoing the annoying reality that he sits firmly at the top of the class. But he means it, the words sounding so earnest you can’t help but sigh.

“Alright,” you whisper, flipping the first card in the deck.

He peers over your shoulder, lips resting on your skin, thumbs tracing along your bare thighs as you think. Your phone vibrates again, and his big arms wrap around your waist, fast holding you in place.

“Don’t,” he stops you before you can start.

His arms soften when he feels you do the same, a hand coming up to draw you in, kissing you, soft and slow.

You relax, concentrating on his lips—how they feel against yours, soft and sweet. The warmth of his body surrounds you, guiding you to relax a little more against him.

“Focus, baby.”

You shut your eyes, trying your best to clear your mind and settle into the task.

“Opsimath,” you whisper.

“Mhmm,” he hums, the utterance buzzing against your skin. “Remember in class last week… Opsē sounds like…”

You think for a beat, recalling that term from the week prior, the scratchy chalk scraping against the board as the professor broke down the term, Rafe sneaking into class late with two coffees in hand while the professor had his back turned. He smiled at you, handed you your drink, then leaned over to whisper, “What’d I miss?”

The question was ridiculous. One glance at the board and he already knew the answer. He’d just wanted an excuse to lean over and talk to you.

“Sounds like ‘oopsie,’” you whisper. “You say that when you’re late.”

“And, manthanein, means…” he asks.

“To learn—because you learn in math class.” He growls with delight, making you smile. “Someone who starts learning late in life.” The words breathe out of you, and the tension you were holding in your shoulders falls.

“Exactly.” Rafe slides the next card to the front of the stack, holding it out in front of the two of you. “Go ahead,” he murmurs, his lips brushing your shoulder as you settle against him again.

You study it for a second, your eyebrows pinching together before the answer slowly starts piecing itself together in your head.

“Metacognition,” you whisper. “Thinking about your own thinking.”

“There it is,” he smiles warmly.

You feel his hand squeeze your thigh, your body melting back against his chest before he reaches for another card.

The next one comes quicker. Then the next. Then the next. By the fourth, you’re answering before he can even finish reading the definition, your confidence building a little more every time he smiles.

“Told you,” he chuckles. “You know more than you think you do.”

You grin to yourself, a little proud now. “Maybe.”

“Not maybe,” he assures, thumb tracing another lazy path across your thigh while you search through the stack. Your eyes flick toward the nightstand when your phone chirps.

The rough pad of his thumb drifts just high enough to make your leg twitch beneath his hand. “Rafe,” you laugh, your body drawing in, before you wiggle away.

“What?” he asks, looking back at you like he has absolutely no idea what you’re talking about. “Just gettin’ my girl back on track.”

“Well, knock it off,” you grumble, snuggling back into him a little more.

“Stop bein’ bad, and I’ll think about it.”

“I’m not being bad.”

“I mean, you got this shit in the bag,” he gestures lazily to the cards. “Focus game needs a little work.” A crooked smile pulls at his lips as he presses another kiss just below your ear. “And, you’re cute when you’re all jumpy.”

“I’m trying to study.”

“And you’re doin’ a damn good job, aren’t you?” he praises, and the knot that’s been sitting in your chest all evening doesn’t feel nearly as tight anymore.

You’re still nervous about tomorrow, but the words aren’t swimming together anymore. They’re actually sticking.

Rafe hands you another card, and you answer it almost immediately.

“Atta baby,” he praises.

“Rewards?” you ask, turning just enough to catch the sparkle in his eye. “Do I get a reward for that one?”

His eyebrows lift and a smirk curls on his lips. “A reward?”

“Mhmm,” you hum.

“What kinda reward are we negotiatin’ for here?”

You pretend to think about it for a second, tapping the corner of the flashcard against your chin while your eyes drift over him. A little smile pulls at your lips before you look back at him.

“Maybe, just maybe… I already know what I want. And so do you.”

Rafe lets out a quiet laugh, already shaking his head. “You are such a slut for me.”

“You thanked me for using you for your body, Rafe Cameron. I think we both know who the slut is.”

“Valid.”

“I’ve had a stressful day, baby,” you sigh. “A stressful week.”

He smiles, softer this time. “I know.” His fingers brush over your hip before nudging the next flashcard toward you. “You’ve got eight cards left, baby.”

“That’s too many.”

“So needy,” he chuckles, settling another flashcard into your hand. “C’mon, pretty. Eight more.”

You study it for a second, chewing lightly on the inside of your cheek before the answer comes to you with more confidence than the last one.

“Schema,” you answer quietly. “Mental framework that helps organize information.”

Rafe glances down at the back of the card before a smile spreads across his face.

“See?” he hums, giving your hip a proud little squeeze. “All in your head for what?”

“Thank you,” you whisper, tilting toward him as he moves closer, kissing you softly. His nose brushes against yours, breathing softly with you.

“Take off your shirt.”

"Huh?" you ask as your cheeks warm up—heart working a little faster. It's a request you've heard from him a million times, unexpected at this moment.

“You heard me,” he mumbles, warm and deep as he flicks off his hat, raking his big fingers through his hair. “Take. It. Off.”

You reach for the bottom of your top, pulling it over your head, tossing it to the side.

Rafe looks over your shoulder, his hold around you tightening as his lips press against your bare shoulder, a quiet hum of approval vibrating against your skin.

“Fuck me,” he sighs, taking you in for a second, pushing out a deep breath behind you. “Baby.” His voice comes out needy, that strict program he was running since you tried to slip underneath him the first time seemingly crumbling away.

He strips off his shirt as well, big hands landing heavy on your legs with a playful clap, making your thighs draw together, but he pulls you open, smiling against your skin.

His palms rub and squeeze the inside of your thighs, your bare back pressing against his chest when you tilt closer. He breathes you in again, your soft body and sweet perfume smelling like heaven to him.

The heat of his body wraps around you, the chill of his chain pressing against your spine. Rafe’s fingers drift higher, teasing the sensitive skin between your thigh and your panties with one hand, taking that top card off the stack with the other.

“Keep going,” he mumbles. “Doing so fuckin’ good for me.”

The next one doesn’t come quite as easily. Your eyebrows knit together while your eyes move over the word again, trying to pin it to a memory or a moment from class.

Rafe stays quiet, letting you work through it before he finally tips his head against yours.

“What do I tell you when I’m coming over?” he breathes, turning into you, making your chest tighten when his thumb moves higher, tracing over the lace between your thighs before he continues. “And I’m runnin’ late, but I fucking need you.” The words scrape past his lips, making your body tingle.

“You tell me you’re gonna take a shortcut.”

“Mhmm,” he hums, chuckling when he feels how wet you are—the subtle rock of your hips when he presses a little harder.

“A mental shortcut,” you whisper, turning your chin toward him, his gaze falling to your lips as he waits for the rest. “That helps you make decisions.”

“Heuristic,” he whispers, the corners of his lips tipping upward. “You didn’t need me. You got this shit.”

His hands slide to the band of your shorts, easing them down, nodding toward you to keep going. He groans as the material works down your thighs, leaving you in nothing but a bra and panties.

You shift over onto your hands and knees, already expecting him to take off his shorts too, and he chuckles, eyes locked on you as he tugs them over his hips, watching with a smile as you drag them down the rest of his strong thighs.

He adjusts slightly on your bed, looking back at you on your hands and knees. “Co’mere, baby,” he murmurs, and you settle on top of his lap, resting your body on top of him.

He starts to take his glasses off, and you shake your head, lacing your fingers with his.

“Don’t.”

“No?” A soft smile tugs at his lips as he drifts a little closer.

“You’re perfect,” you whisper, fussing with his hair as his cheeks flush. He tips his head down, trying to hide it before you can catch him, but you know better.

“Good,” he murmurs, a smug little smile settling on his lips. “Wanna see my girl.”

His long, thick cock is trapped in cotton still, the swell of it stretching the material. He presses the stack of cards into your hand. His palms instantly find their place on your ass, grabbing two fistfuls of skin.

"Six more cards and not a lot of clothes left, baby? What are we gonna do about that?" he asks.

“I’m sure you can think of other rewards, Rafe Cameron,” you whisper. He reaches up, fingers tangling in your hair to pull you to his mouth.

He kisses you deeply, tongue sliding between your lips instantly—hips rocking with the tempo of your kiss. “Got a few ideas,” he murmurs. “Think you can get them all right for me?”

His smile pulls along your lips when you whisper yes, his hand still gripping your hair, the other kneading your ass, coaching each drag of your hips on top.

He pulls back from the kiss reluctantly, tapping against the bed for a flashcard. “Neuroplasticity,” he mumbles, licking his lips as his eyes fall to your lace-covered tits, knowing exactly where he’s going next.

“Chapter meetings,” you whisper. “This is the one I had locked in.”

“Yeah?” he asks, his hands drifting up your spine. “Tell me more.”

“Every chapter meeting,” you whisper. “I used to rehearse every word. Now I can walk in and figure it out as I go.”

“Mhmm,” he hums, his head tipping back against the headboard as his fingers pinch the clasp of your bra, waiting for the term.

“Neuroplasticity… your brain adapts because you keep practicing.”

Your bra falls away as he chuckles proudly, pulling you in as he lowers his lips, mouth wrapping around your nipple as his hand squeezes your breast in his big palm, the other slapping your ass.

Your head lulls back and his tongue flicks across your bud, letting you go with a pop, kissing up the curve of your breast, along your collarbone.

His tongue slides along your skin, making you shiver and throb, the man snagging the necklace at your neck, catching the metal between his teeth, the white gold chain connecting the two of you.

The dainty R charm slips from between his teeth, glinting as it falls back against your skin before he speaks. “How come you never take this off, pretty?”

You look down at it, smiling to yourself, remembering that night. “Because you gave it to me.”

“If some other guy got you this, it’d just be another necklace.” You nod slowly as he scowls playfully at the mere suggestion of it—the scenario that he painted for you. “It means somethin’. That’s why your brain remembers it.”

“Semantic encoding,” you say. “I remember it by what it means, not just what it looks like.”

His big arm wraps tight around you, hugging you close, as he lets out a deep breath. “That’s my girl,” he whispers, his strong, bare chest pushing flush to yours. “Knew you could do it.”

He grabs your waist, lifting you until you're standing on top of your bed. His hands settle behind your legs, drawing you closer, peeling the panties down your skin as you look back at him.

Rafe wraps his fingers around the band of his boxer briefs, tugging them down his thighs, his cock swinging free, slapping against his tanned skin as he pushes out a breath.

He wraps his fist around his dick, stroking slowly before looking up at you. “Next one?”

His hold on the back of your thigh keeps you close, the other one working itself at a steady pace. He’s got the next vocab word memorized—held on the tip of his tongue.

His palm runs up the back of your leg, breath catching in his chest. Your hand rests on the wall above your headboard, keeping you balanced.

“Mine disappears when I’m around you,” he mumbles, dipping in to press a kiss against your thigh, lips lingering, the warmth of his breathing against your skin making your pussy throb.

“Self-control?” you whisper.

“Exactly.”

“Executive function,” you answer. “Planning, focus, and self-control.” He smiles and nods, humming out praise as he lifts your leg, foot resting on the wooden frame.

You gasp, a hand flying down to grab him, twisting in his hair as he kisses your clit. Your hips jostle, but his arms flex, forcing you to stay right where he wants you, moaning when you tug at his strands in sensitivity.

He laps at your slit like he’s starved as his hand jerks his dick, getting off on the taste and the pathetic sounds that cry past your lips with each drag and twirl of his tongue.

“Baby, fuck,” he hums into your pussy, the wet sounds of his working you over filling the room as the band in your belly tightens, your leg keeping you standing on the mattress, muscles trembling.

Your knees buckle as his lips lock down on your clit, sucking hard, making your eyes screw shut. “Rafe—Rafe, I’m gonna cum,” you whimper breathlessly, and he slaps your ass in response, drawing you as close as he can get you.

“Fuck!” You squeal when he dips his tongue in your entrance, the sensation sending you tumbling over the edge, your body fluttering around him as he works you through each wave of your orgasm, tongue-fucking you with no plans to stop until you soften completely.

Your body practically melts into his lap—his lips quickly finding yours. He grabs your hand, guiding you to his stiff cock between you, wrapping your hand around his length, stroking with you for a moment.

“How was that?” he asks softly, handing over control.

“So fucking good,” you whisper, feeling his lips curl into a smile at your words.

“Don’t peek,” he chuckles breathily against your mouth, peering away just enough to check the last three cards. “Fuck, baby. These are easy.”

“Maybe for you,” you sigh, running a line of spit down to the head of his cock, your fist moving easily through the wet, making his eyebrows tug together.

“Nah, you got this shit… Better get ‘em right,” he smiles, his eyes falling a little hazier.

“Okay,” you whisper, feeling a little more confident now.

“Next one. Studying with me is way, way better,” he mumbles as his hands rest on your hips. “And you sure as hell aren’t doin’ this.”

“Transfer-appropriate…” Your words trail away a little bit when you see his breathing getting a little quicker, your touch on his dick feeling a little too good.

“Come on, baby,” he murmurs, nodding to you, his jaw clenching a little tighter. “Wanna cum inside you but you gotta get it right.”

“…Processing?” you whisper, and he stops your hand, the other coming up to grip your cheeks between his fingers, kissing you deeply. “Practicing it the way I'll actually have to use it.”

“I’m so fucking proud of you, you know that?” he sighs.

“Yeah?” you ask as you rise on your knees.

“Mhmm,” he breathes, holding his dick straight, tracing it along your soaked slit as you hover over him.

Your lips fall open when he pulls you down, the thick head of his cock stretching you wide, soothing the ache. He pulls you lower, your wet pussy sliding down each stiff inch until there’s no space left between you.

He looks back at you, sitting with it for a moment, feeling the wet mess he made squeeze around him—how perfect his hands fit, gripping your curves to keep you sat.

Rafe draws in a heavy breath before he speaks. “Two more, baby.”

“Fucking finally,” you mutter, and he snickers.

“What, you’re not enjoying this?” he asks smugly, your wetness dripping down him.

“Of course I am,” you whisper.

“Remember last weekend? I got back to my place, and it was dark and quiet. And, you were too busy for me.”

“Baby…” you stop him with a laugh. “That’s a lie. I was at a retreat.”

“I'm just teasin’,” he mumbles. “All I could think about was this… and I texted you and told you. And what did you say to me?”

“…I want you so bad.”

“And?” he mumbles.

“I’m wet,” you sigh, the corners of his mouth tilting into a smirk as his cock moves inside you, just enough for you to feel it.

“And what did I say?”

“Show me,” you answer, remembering the picture you sent him seconds later.

“Of course I did,” he mumbles, and your eyes fall, your brain going a little fuzzy when he starts rubbing slow circles on your clit with his thumb.

“Dual coding theory,” you smile with him as his touch on you grows quicker.

Your heart rate starts to climb, that orgasm that just claimed you minutes ago still simmering.

“Elaborative rehearsal,” the last card in the stack leaves your lips without being prompted at all, the only one you didn’t discuss—the definition literally all encompassed in this moment.

Rafe’s forehead falls against yours, waiting for you to finish, just as desperate as you. “Connecting new things to what I already know—”

You gasp and squeal out his name, your body flung to your back, Rafe pinning you underneath him before you can even ask if you’re right.

Your eyes go wide, and your jaw drops as he slams into you in one hard thrust, your hands wrapping around him, nails sinking into his back.

He lets out a deep, drawn-out groan, pulling out just enough to see the wetness slicked all over his length, the thick tip of his dick making you gasp when he pushes in again.

“Yes, baby,” Rafe growls against your lips, feeling your body squeeze around him, fucking into you at a punishing pace, your pussy gripping him with each filthy stroke.

You tremble beneath him, sliding higher up the mattress with each rough snap of his hips, the headboard thumping against the wall as the bed creaks below.

The room fills with the sounds of pleasure—the wet slap of skin against yours, his name leaving your lips in a choked cry, quiet praise humming past his lips into yours.

His hand slides down to grab your hip, hard enough to leave a bruise, his other palm resting by your head, gripping the sheet.

You pull him closer, locking your legs around his hips, forcing him deeper. Your eyes roll back in your head as he hits the perfect spot inside you.

“Feels too fuckin’ good,” he mutters, his forehead falling to yours as his hips stutter.

Your walls clench around him, and he gasps against your lips, his pace quickening until your back lifts off the bed.

“Yes—yes,” you cry out, and he buries his face in your neck, teeth gritted as he cums with you, burying himself deep inside you with a strangled moan, thick ropes of his climax filling you as your name drips from his mouth in a fucked-out sigh.

He collapses on top, snuggling into you, the air around you hot and sticky. Both of you are laughing dizzily, his lips moving against yours in soft, breathless kisses.

“We’re celebrating when you ace this shit tomorrow,” he smiles against the corner of your mouth.

“Pretty confident in me, Rafe Cameron,” you whisper.

“Of course I am,” he whispers.

“What if I get an A?”

“You know you will,” he hums into a kiss, sucking off your bottom lip. “You gonna ask about another reward?”

You giggle below him, and he laughs, pushing out a satisfied sound when your nails slide down his strong back.

“Well, shit.” He lets out a soft sigh. “It’s gonna need to be pretty good, huh?”

“Mhmm,” you mumble.

He smiles against your mouth, chuckling like the plan just clicked. “Guess you’re gonna have to ace it and find out, huh?”

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