being with rafe cameron is a mistake —one you keep making over and over again, despite knowing better. you both fight, you push him away, you tell yourself you’re done with him… and yet, every time, you come crawling right back. and rafe? he fucking lives for it.
he’s mean, rough, possessive. he fucks you like he hates you, like he’s trying to break you. and in some way, maybe he is, because nothing in this world gets him harder than seeing jj maybank’s precious little sister falling apart beneath him, whimpering and completely soaked for the one guy she shouldn’t want.
he loves making you beg, loves reminding you who owns you, and no matter how much you fight it, no matter how wrong it is, you love it too.
his truck smells like sweat and sex, the windows fogged up as rafe pounds your sloppy cunt from behind like he owns it. one of his hands is in your pretty head, pushing it down onto the leather seat to make you arch your back for him, while the other is holding your wrists bruisingly tight at the bottom of your spine —yanking you back onto him, forcing you to take his cock deeper.
"god, you’re such a fuckin' mess," rafe groans, relishing in the way you’re dripping down his dick from all the times he's made you cum already, ruining his seats. "soakin' me like a desperate little whore."
he’s so mean, spitting filth that makes your insides tighten, your walls clench around him harder. every cruel word that falls from his lips has you growing wetter, despite the shame churning in your stomach. and he swears he could cum just from the way your greedy pussy is squeezing him, like it doesn't want to let go.
"this what you wanted, huh? my dumb little slut needed to get fucked stupid?" he mocks, lips curling into a dark smirk when he hears you moan in response.
every time his hips snap forward, he hits so deep you swear you might break, the fat tip of his cock almost brushing your cervix and making you literally shudder beneath him.
"rafe–" you whimper, big tears running down your flushed cheeks.
"fuck, baby, you cryin' f'me?" he groans, wiping those tears away, "god, you look so damn beautiful when you cry."
but you cannot say anything in response, pretty eyes rolling to the back of your head as he keeps bullying your g-spot, and that makes him chuckle, large hand fisting your soft hair to yank you back against his hard chest, which causes your scalp to sting.
"so fuckin' pathetic, aren’t ya'? can’t even think, can’t do anything but let me use you," he whispers in your ear, his voice teasing —petty.
his other hand slips between your thighs, rubbing slow circles that have you crying out from how good it feels, little clit throbbing under his rough finger pads.
"look at you. so fuckin' sensitive..." he purrs, and he sounds really fucking pleased with himself for what he's doing to you. "gonna cum again f'me, princess?”
you try to shake your head no in response, try to beg for a break and squirm away from him —overstimulated, but rafe doesn't let you, gripping your throat to keep you in place.
"yeah, you fuckin' will." you can almost hear the smug smirk in his words.
you cry out, overwhelmed, but you don’t tell him to stop because you don't really want him to. your lewd moans break into something closer to sobs, and your fingers clutch desperately at the leather seats while he thrusts into your poor, sensitive cunt, pushing you closer and closer to another orgasm.
and when you finally fall over the edge, pleasure crashes over you so violently that it knocks the air from your lungs and makes your whole body tremble like a leaf while you scream against the seat, leaving you nothing but a shaking, incoherent mess beneath him.
rafe is right after you. he cums hard, dick twitching inside your hot, spasming cunt, which is fucking strangling him —the feeling so good that it has him trembling as he curses and moans out loud. wanting to draw out the pleasure all he can, he keeps fucking you through it, thrusts uneven and sloppy, until he's collapsing on top of you, completely spent.
for a moment, all you can do is lie there, face pressed against the leather seat, body still twitching with the aftershocks and mind fully blank. rafe doesn’t move right away either, his weight heavy on top of you, one hand smoothing over your back in slow, lazy strokes.
then, he pulls back, withdrawing his softening cock from your pussy with a grunt. he slaps your ass gently, watching with pure satisfaction in his blue eyes how his cum oozes out of you, and you can't help the little moan that follows.
“god, you look so fuckin' pretty like this. all used up. just f'me...” his fingers would definitely fuck his cum back inside you, not giving a shit that you're squirming and whining from overstimulation. "my good fuckin' girl."
summary: Rafe has been begging you to move in with him, but when you finally show him the place your heart belongs to, he realizes he'd do anything to make you happy.
content: fluff, angst, a drizzle of spice, semi-canon obx if you were to eliminate some pretty important things lol
cw: mentions of blood and injury, suggestive comments, closed-door romance, mentions of abusive parents (Luke)
note: my contribution to @zyafics mrga campaign <3
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“Don’t open your eyes yet!”
“I’m gonna trip over something and fall on my ass. Or run into something. This is The Cut, who knows what junk is just lying around. I’m gonna get tetris or some shit.”
You laughed out loud. Rafe nearly opened his eyes to figure out why.
“See, now you’re laughing at me, you better not be doing some dumb shit to me for a Tiktok,” he warned.
“Oh my god, you’re such a baby, calm down,” you chuckled. “I’m laughing because you’re cute. It’s tetanus, not tetris.”
He should feel embarrassed, but the sound of your laugh and of you calling him cute calmed every muscle in his body. You were a balm that went straight to his agitated heart.
You were the only one who could disarm him when he got irritated like this. You told him once that you don’t take his bad moods personally because you can see them for what they are - he’s not angry, he’s anxious. He realized then that you’re the only person who’d ever really understood him, that you might understand him better than he understands himself.
It’s why his shoulders relax now, it’s why he can take a deep breath. There was no one else in the world who could convince him to let them drive his boat while he’s blindfolded or walk through the tall, marshy grass without knowing where he was going. Only you.
“Can I open my eyes now?” He asked.
“We’re not there yet,” you shook your head, hand still on his arm to lead him closer to your surprise. “You can go one more minute without seeing where you’re going.”
“Maybe, but I don’t know if I can go another minute without seeing you,” he flirted.
You smiled, tempted to rip the blindfold off him and forget all about the surprise. Too bad for him you already knew all his tricks.
“Nice try, Cameron.”
As you got closer, your stomach twisted. Maybe this was stupid. After all, wouldn’t it be underwhelming to Rafe after all he’s seen? This place meant so much to you, you didn’t know if you could handle any criticism from him. You considered turning around, but you’d already made such a big deal out of this, how would you explain it to him?
“Okay, this is a good spot, I guess,” you said, your voice shaking with trepidation.
“You good?” Rafe asked. Of course he could tell your mood shifted without even looking at you.
“Yeah, I think, just open your eyes.” At this point you just wanted to get his inevitable disappointment over with.
Slowly, Rafe opened his eyes. He blinked a few times to adjust to the blinding Carolina sunlight before finally sizing up your big reveal.
It was your house, the one he’d been to a hundred times before - sneaking into your window so your brother wouldn’t hear, showing up in the night to investigate when you “heard a noise,” defending you from Luke when he got violent. Except, this wasn’t the same house. It was bigger, for one. And slightly better, with new walls, a new roof, and a big, hand painted flag in your brother’s handwriting: “Poguelandia.”
It wasn’t much, but it was your dream come true. In your eyes, you may as well have been standing in front of a magic castle. As you watched Rafe’s expression stay completely unchanged you realized that to him, it probably still looked like some shitty shack on The Cut. You wished you never brought him here.
“This is what you guys have been working on this whole time?” He asked, still looking at the house and not at you.
“Yeah, I mean, and the store,” you gestured to the dock behind you where you and your friends had built yourselves a small business. Another thing that would surely seem pathetic compared to what Rafe was used to.
“It’s nice, I like it,” Rafe said.
“No it’s okay, you don’t have to lie,” you said, voice small. You started to turn to leave. “I shouldn’t have made such a big deal out of it, let’s just go-”
“Hey, woah, woah,” Rafe interrupted you gently.
He approached you from behind, arms twisting around your waist, forcing you to turn back and look at your home. He had to duck down to slot his chin into your shoulder, swaying you both gently.
“If I had to come all this way, I think I at least deserve the grand tour, don’t I?” he mumbled into your ear.
Your smile returned, you nuzzled your cheek into his, heart swelling.
“I guess, if you insist,” you said with a cheeky grin.
“I do,” he nodded, tickling your neck with his buzzed hair. He tilted his head down to place a sloppy kiss into the crook of your shoulder. “I’m especially looking forward to seeing your bedroom.”
“You mean the one I share with your sister?”
He groaned, “why do you torture me like this?”
“Because it’s fun.” You twisted away from his hold and slid your hand down his arm to interlock your fingers with his.
Rafe followed you onto the porch. You paused at the front door for dramatic effect.
“Hello MTV, welcome to my crib!”
Rafe smiled as you cracked up at your own joke, but his momentary joy turned sour when you opened the door and revealed an unwelcome sight on the other side; the Pogues.
The lively discussion that had been filling your shared living room stopped dead in its tracks. The room turned cold. Six icy stares were aimed in your boyfriend’s direction.
You understood why they disliked him so much. He didn’t put much effort into changing their minds. But he’d changed yours. And though you’d tried for years not to, you loved him. Neither of you had said it yet, but you knew it was true, at least for you.
There had been countless arguments between you and your brother and the shared friends that were basically family about Rafe. Countless fights you’d stopped between JJ and Rafe, countless nights begging Rafe just to try a little harder, begging JJ just to give him a chance. They both cared for you enough not to kill each other, but it was a reluctant ceasefire. A fragile peace you were always vigilant to protect. A truce that could be broken at any moment. You prayed this wasn’t that moment.
“Sorry, I didn’t think you guys were home,” you explained. The six pogues shared concerned glances with each other, something unsaid that you felt had nothing to do with you walking in with their least favorite person. “What’s going on?”
Kie stood, shot a brief but blazing glare towards Rafe, and handed you a piece of paper. You read it carefully, your eyebrows creased in confusion that was slowly morphing into great concern. Rafe read over your shoulder.
It was an official warning from the Kildare City Council. The land you were standing on and the home you’d built would be rezoned. They were taking Poguelandia.
“What the hell?” You shouted. “Can they actually do this?”
“Looks like they already are,” John B confirmed.
“No, no. There has to be something we can -”
“There’s not!” JJ stood from his seat at the far end of the room.
You could see it all over his face, the anger that was always lying just beneath the surface starting to make its way to the top. Everyone thought of JJ as a happy-go-lucky, silly, mischievous kid. And he was all those things, but he was something else, something only you really saw; a hurt kid who never healed.
“There’s never something we can do,” JJ continued, stalking slowly toward you, but keeping his eyes locked on Rafe the whole time. “Not when Kooks are involved. They always win.”
“Back up, Maybank,” Rafe snarled, looking down at JJ, who’d gotten close enough to break the barrier of Rafe’s personal space.
You stepped between them instinctually, a move you’d made a hundred times before.
“Stop.” You put a gentle hand on JJ’s chest to back him up, but he didn’t budge. “This isn’t his fault, J.”
“How do we know that, huh?” JJ finally tore his eyes off Rafe to look at you. “How do we know he’s not behind it somehow? Trying to steal our land for another bougie ass development project. You can’t trust these people, sis. How many times do we have to get screwed by them before you realize it?”
You and your brother looked at each other for a long time. The rest of the room watched as the two of you seemed to have a conversation none of them could hear; the unspoken language of siblings who’d been to hell and back together.
After a long moment, you turned your gaze toward Rafe.
“Do- do you know anything about this?” You asked him hesitantly.
His face fell. A series of emotions flashed across his features so quickly, you were sure you were the only one in the room who caught them all; surprise, betrayal, hurt, anger, and finally, back to his go-to: detached stoicism.
“That’s really what you think of me? That I’d do something like this?” His tone was even, his voice far away even though you were inches apart.
You knew you’d hurt him by even entertaining the idea that he’d betray you like this. But this ground was shaky, and you had been screwed over by Kooks your entire life. The trust you put in him did not come easy, and sometimes it wavered, even though he’d never given it any reason to.
Rafe’s jaw clenched when you didn’t answer. He nodded once, his lips twisting into the kind of smile that had absolutely no joy behind it.
“Unbelievable.” He muttered.
He took one last searing look around the room, twelve hateful eyes met him, and he didn’t look at your watery ones before turning and storming out of the house, the newly installed screen door banging shut behind him.
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Your knees were tucked all the way to your chest, your chin resting on them as you wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to manufacture any sort of comfort. It wasn’t working.
The zone change notice sat on the bed in front of you. You read it over and over, as though if you just wanted it badly enough, the words would change into something less devastating.
You were going to lose your home. You’d probably lost the love of your life, before you could even tell him he was the love of your life. Your brother was one step from completely falling over the edge, the rocky path toward destruction that you’d pulled him back from your whole lives getting steeper by the minute. A few hours ago you were excitedly cleaning this room so you could show Rafe. How could so much change in so little time?
A knock at the door pulled you from your spiraling thoughts.
“Come in,” you said quietly.
The door creaked slightly despite it being brand new. Sarah tiptoed into the room gently, searching you for any signs of distress.
“Sar, you don’t have to knock to come into your own room,” you told her.
“I know, I just thought maybe you needed some space.”
You shook your head and scooted over on the bed to make space for her. She took your invitation with a smile and settled in next to you.
“So…how’s your day going?” She asked in a singy-songy voice.
You both erupted in bittersweet laughter.
“Oh y’know, I’ve had better.”
She nudged your arm with her elbow.
“Everything’s gonna be okay, you know.” She assured you.
“Is it though? I mean really, Sar, is it?” No laughter hung in the air now. “I mean, what if I just lost my home and my boyfriend? Or worse, what if I just lost my home to my boyfriend.”
“You really think Rafe would’ve done something like this?” She asked.
“I don’t know. I mean, I don’t want to. You heard him though, when I asked him about it, he didn’t deny it.”
Sarah sighed, a deep exhale that usually signaled she was about to say something she didn’t want to.
“What?” You prodded.
“Look, I’m not my brother’s biggest fan, you know that,” she began.
“Um yes, you’ve made that very clear,” you chuckled, thinking of all the times Sarah had warned you not to get involved with Rafe.
“But, just this one time, I’m going to…” She paused dramatically, her eyes screwed shut with reluctance. “...defend him.”
Your eyebrows shot up in surprise.
“Be honest, how hard was that for you to say?” You teased.
“I’m holding back vomit right now,” she laughed.
“Well then defend him quickly before you yack on my bed.”
“Okay, I just,” she paused to consider her words carefully. “I know you know Rafe really well. I mean you’re the only one he’s ever really let in, so you probably know him better than anyone. But I’ve known him longer than anyone. I’ve seen every version of him. I knew Rafe before he met you, and now I know him after he met you, and believe me when I tell you, those two are not the same guy. As cliche as it sounds, you changed him.”
You sat in silence, letting the words settle over you, surprised by how emotional they were making you. You willed the tears forming in your eyes not to fall.
“Don’t get me wrong, he’s still a dick,” Sarah added. You were grateful for a reason to laugh before you started crying. “But he’s not the same. There was a time where I’d say ‘absolutely, Rafe definitely did this just to screw us over,’ but not anymore. Not since he fell in love with you.”
You looked up in surprise, the tears at your lash line threatening to finally spill over.
“You think he loves me?”
“Girl, be so for real. That man has never looked at anyone the way he looks at you. Believe me, he’s yours.”
Your heart skipped, and the tears finally fell. You rose from the bed so suddenly, Sarah almost fell back onto the mattress. You didn’t know what had taken over you, just that you needed to go, now. Everything in you was being pulled toward him, like sand being dragged back out to sea by the tide. If you spent one more minute of your life without him knowing what you were so certain of now, you might not make it.
Sarah smiled at you, she read it all over your face.
“Go!” She urged.
“Love you!” You shouted over your shoulder as you raced out of your bedroom.
“Love you too, you freak,” she smiled to herself, knowing you were already long gone.
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Where could he have gone? Your mind flipped through all the possibilities as you ran across the lawn toward the dock. JJ would probably be pissed that you took The Snapper without asking first, but didn’t even care about that right now. You just needed to find Rafe.
You didn’t have to search for long.
As soon as your feet hit the wooden dock, they stopped in their tracks.
At the end of the pier sat Rafe’s boat bobbing in the water. The long figure of your boyfriend leaned over the bow. You watched with a big, bright smile as he untied the line, then retied it, then untied it, and retied it once more. He was clearly having a silent disagreement with himself. All that mattered to you was that he hadn’t left.
You approached slowly, avoiding the planks in the dock you knew would creak and give away your presence. The closer you got to him, the faster your heart beat. The words you were dying to say sat perched at the end of your tongue, you knew they wouldn’t be able to hang on much longer.
Half way through untying the boat again, Rafe stopped and sighed.
“Need a push?” You said.
His eyes shot up to yours, startled. Tension filled his shoulders as he took you in, his shock quickly fading to something softer, yet still unsure.
“That depends,” he squinted in the sun to see you better.
God, he was gorgeous. You could not let him get away.
“Depends on what?” You played along.
“If my girlfriend will forgive me for being a dismissive prick,” he said.
You forced your lips not to twist into a smile, pretending to consider his words.
“I think she might. If you forgive her first,” you said.
His eyes softened, lips twitching. You were both failing not to smile at each other now.
Rafe finally tied up the boat for good, hopping up onto the dock. You admired every movement of his body as it drew closer to yours. When he reached you, he placed his hands on your waist, your arms drawing up to wrap around his neck, stretching up on your tiptoes to get as close to him as possible.
“She has nothing to apologize for. The only home she’s ever known is being threatened. She’s just scared. I get that.”
Every word fanned over you like a soft summer breeze. Your heart warmed, impossibly full despite all the anxieties today had brought. He just got you, he understood without you having to say it. This must be the closest two people can get to making magic, you thought.
“Thank you,” you let your head fall forward to rest on his chest. He kissed the top of your head.
“Everything’s gonna be okay,” he whispered into your hair.
You looked back up at him, shaking your head.
“How is everything gonna be okay, Rafe? What if there really is nothing we can do? I mean, who’s even behind this?”
Rafe didn’t answer, but one name popped into his mind. Even with his suspicions, he didn’t know if he could help you. Helplessness was the feeling he despised more than any other, especially when it came to you.
“I don’t know,” he said, his heart breaking at the despairing look on your face. “But you’ve still got me. You could always move into the condo with me, like I’ve been begging you for months.”
“Can I bring my friends with me?” You scrunched up your nose, hoping he’d find you cute enough to say yes.
“I love you, but there’s no way in hell…”
A bolt of lightning shot through you, goosebumps erupting over your entire body. Did he really just say…?
He instantly read the shock on your face, but there was no look of regret on his.
“What? Haven’t I said I love you before?”
“Umm, no, I think I would’ve remembered that!” You couldn’t help the big, goofy grin taking over your whole face.
“Oh, well that’s weird,” he shrugged, his hands sliding from your waist to your lower back, wrapping his strong arms around you and lifting you off your feet. “Because I do love you, so fucking much.”
You yelped as he lifted you into the air, head falling back in laughter as he almost tumbled you both off the dock in his effort to sweep you off your feet.
You looked down at him and he lowered you slowly, tucking his head into the crook of your neck, arms still wrapped around each other like you’d never let go. You stood there embracing for a long time, so long that the sun was starting to set, casting a golden shimmer across the water.
Finally you said, “I never gave you the grand tour.”
“And I was really looking forward to seeing your crib,” he teased, his lips brushing against the skin of your neck when he talked.
“Well, c’mon then.” You grabbed his hand, leading him back toward the house, both of you buzzing with the excitement that there was something much better than a tour waiting for you inside.
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“...And this is John B and JJ’s room,” you opened the door only a crack, afraid to unleash the stench that permanently filled the space. “They insisted on getting bunk beds even though they’re, like, forty. And Pope insisted on having his own room because, as he said, ‘JJ is a walking biohazard.’ Which is…fair.”
Rafe was just watching you with adoration as you showed him around the house. He was barely looking at the rooms you were showing him because he was so focused on the way you glowed with joy. It was true that he wanted you to move to Bayline with him, it was his life’s goal to get you there, actually, but he had to admit that you seemed like you really belonged here. He’d never seen you look more at home.
“And this is our gallery wall.” You gestured to the display of framed photographs hanging in the upstairs hallway.
Rafe surveyed them dutifully with his hands tucked politely behind his back, like an old man in an art museum. Most of the photographs were of you and the pogues at various times in your life. Out fishing in the marsh, riding dirt bikes, post-surf at the beach. You admired the way Rafe was looking so intently and resisting the urge to grimace at so many photos of you with his once sworn enemies.
He explored the wall, eyes lingering on any photo of you a little longer than the rest. The hall continued to lead down toward your bedroom. At the very end, in a high corner, just above a series of photo booth pictures you’d taken with Sarah and Kie last summer, hung a delicate circular frame featuring a worn-out picture almost too small to see. Rafe leaned in for a better look.
In the photo, which was a tad faded and clearly taken several years ago, was a young guy, probably about 30, holding two young kids on his lap. The slightly bigger one, a boy, held up a trout he’d just caught, flashing a toothless grin. The little girl beamed at the man holding her.
It took Rafe a moment, but when he felt your weight shift next to him uncomfortably, he put it all together. The photo was you, JJ, and Luke. Probably the only one you had. And despite everything Luke had put you through, you’d hung it on the wall to see everyday.
Rafe turned to you, you were looking down at your feet, toes digging anxiously into the rug. His heart ached. If anyone knew what it was like to have a complicated relationship with their father, it was him. The fact that you’d still given Luke some dignity in this house he almost destroyed so many times said so much about you, and reminded him why he loved you so much.
“You wanna show me your room now?” He asked gently.
You looked up at him with glassy eyes and a small smile, “yeah.”
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The door clicked closed softly. Rafe took in the room, immediately identifying which bed was yours and which bed (the messy, half-made one) was his sister’s.
“Sarah doesn’t spend much time in here,” you admitted.
“No?” He asked, keeping his eyes off of you, the closed door suddenly adding a nervous energy to the room he wasn’t expecting.
“She mainly sleeps with John B.” Rafe grimaced, you hurried to reassure him. “Like, in his bed I mean, or his bunk I guess. Not, like sleep with him sleep with him, although I’m sure there’s plenty of that -”
“I’m literally begging you to stop talking,” he said, his eyes finding the ceiling, no doubt trying to erase the mental picture you just created for him.
“Sorry,” you chuckled.
Rafe wandered around the room some more, taking in all your decorations. He never understood why someone could collect so many knick-knacks that seemed to be worth nothing, but there was something endearing about it that drew him to you even more. Just another in a long line of things that would annoy him with someone else, but enchanted him with you.
As your time alone in the room dragged on, the air became tenser. You felt yourself watching him, but unable to move, back pressed up against the door, frozen in anticipation.
You and Rafe had been alone together before - and you had been together before - but something had shifted out on that dock. Something that you knew you couldn’t take back, and didn’t want to. In fact, you only wanted to solidify it more.
“Rafe,” you said softly, finally pulling his attention away from your decor.
He looked up at you expectantly, like he had been waiting for you to give him permission to. He didn’t respond, just walked slowly toward you, his eyes on yours the whole way. Your heart was beating out of your chest.
“I don’t know why I’m so nervous,” you said, trying to laugh to break the tension, though the sound came out more like a hiccup.
“Has something changed?” He wondered aloud.
“Yeah, I guess it has.” You chewed on your bottom lip. “Because today I realized two important things.”
“What two things?” He asked, surprised, and a little alarmed, by your answer.
“The first is that this is my home, and that in a way, it will always be my home. And yet at the same time, I also realized that you’re my future, and I love you.”
Rafe’s smile spread slowly, like he was taking in each word one at a time. His blue eyes sparkled - like actually sparkled - with joy. Maybe you were imagining it, but it didn’t matter, you just wanted him to keep looking at you like that.
“Oh you love me, huh?” His voice was low and dangerous, he stepped closer until he was towering over you.
“Yeah, haven’t I said that before?” You echoed his words from earlier back to him.
He just shook his head at you, tucking his tongue in the corner of his cheek to try and tame his smile. His hands found your waist like they were made to fit there. His voice carried down to your very core as he leaned in.
“You know you can’t take it back now, right?”
“Why would I take it back? I mean it, Rafe, with everything I have. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
And he showed you. His body enveloping yours as he backed you up against the door and kissed you deeply. A whole new energy between you now, your need and your affection for each other stronger than ever.
Before you could get carried away, footsteps on the stairs reminded you of a very crucial step of bringing your boyfriend home.
“Wait, hold on.” You pulled away from Rafe and he frowned. His disappointment was so cute you were tempted to kiss the pout right off of him, but first you rummaged through a drawer in you and Sarah’s shared dresser.
“What is that?” Rafe asked when you pulled out a conch shell glued to a piece of twine.
“Just a little system Sarah and I have.” You winked at him, opening the door just a crack to hang the shell from the doorknob.
“Do I want to know?” Rafe asked.
“I don’t know, do you want to talk more about your sister’s love life, or work on ours?” You bit back your smile when he cringed at your words, suddenly realizing Sarah’s use for the shell with a shudder.
“You’re lucky I love you,” he said, before scooping you up and carrying you over his shoulder, just to drop you on the bed with a bounce.
“Yes, I am,” you smiled up at him.
And he showed you, over and over, just how lucky you were.
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It was different this time, more passionate, more intense, more everything. And when he held you after, whispering more I love you’s into your hair, and neck, and the side of your face, you knew it must’ve felt the same for him, too.
You laid tucked into his side, his arm wrapped around your shoulders so he could intertwine his fingers with yours as you both stared up at the ceiling in pure bliss.
You sighed a happy, airy sigh and nuzzled closer to him.
“You know I just mean for now, right?” You said.
He twisted his neck at what must’ve been an uncomfortable angle to try and see your face.
“You just love me for now?” He asked, incredulous.
“No, no!” You couldn’t help but laugh. “Sorry, no, that’s not what I meant. I meant to say, this is just my home for now.”
“Oh, okay,” he rested his head back onto the pillow. “That’s better, I guess.”
You sat up, shuffling through the sheets so you could see him. You brought your legs up and sat criss cross on the bed next to him. Rafe lazily reached out a hand to tuck your hair behind your ear as he waited for the words he knew you were trying to formulate. He loved that you thought so hard before speaking, always determined to say what you mean. You loved that he waited to hear what you had to say, a patience he reserved almost exclusively for you.
“I know it must seem weird,” you began, “that I’m so attached to a place with so many bad memories. And I know you want me to live with you, and I want that too, eventually. But you have to understand, for so much of my life, it was just me and JJ. It was just us in this house. Even though a lot of it was us hiding from Luke or fending for ourselves when he didn’t come home for days at a time, there are good memories hidden in all the bad ones. Like, at the bottom of the stairs, there’s a spot where JJ and I accidentally ran our sled into the wall when we were stair-surfing. We covered it with chewed bubblegum and colored it in with marker, and Luke never noticed. Or in the kitchen, there’s tally marks under the countertop where we used to keep track of how many beers Luke had so we knew when it was time to go to John B’s for the night. And on the old dock, where our store is now, we made each other a pinky promise that someday we’d grow up and make something of ourselves and buy this house right out from under him. And we did it! And now, they’re just going to, what, take it away? Punish us for rising above the low expectations that they set for us? We were hurt here, yeah. But we also survived here. We did it together. I can’t leave that, or him, not now, not yet.”
Rafe drank in your words, and when tears came, he didn’t wipe them away or tell you to stop crying, he just let them fall. Let you feel what you needed to feel. His hand stayed firmly rested on your leg, there to hold only if you wanted it.
Through sobs you finally said, “this is our home, Rafe. We’re gonna lose our home.”
He’d heard enough. He stood from the bed quickly, pulling on his khakis and polo wordlessly.
“Where are you going?”
Rafe turned to look at you, saw the worry in your eyes and leaned over your bed so his face was level with yours. You would have been frightened by the steel in his eyes if you weren’t so excited by it.
“You asked me how it was going to be okay, right?” He said, voice low and tinged with danger.
You just nodded, unsure what to make of this sudden change in demeanor.
“It’s going to be okay because I’m going to make it okay.”
With that he stood and stalked toward the door, stopping to look at you one more time.
“Get some sleep, yeah? I’ll be back in a bit.”
You didn’t bother to ask where he was going, you knew he wasn’t going to tell you. When he had a plan like this, there was no slowing him down. Usually, his plans were self-serving. He was a strategist, like his father. Only now, it seemed, you were the beneficiary of his plot, and you weren’t sure what to expect.
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It sure as hell wasn’t the doorbell ringing at two in the morning.
It had started to storm and the thunder was rumbling through the house. It took a few rings before you could even hear the doorbell over the sound of the rain. Sarah lay on one side of you, Kie on the other, Cleo at the foot of the bed. They’d come to comfort you after Rafe left and you all cried yourself to sleep talking about the future of Poguelandia.
You accidentally kicked Cleo when you got up, who then kicked Sarah, who reached over and hit Kie in the arm as if it was her fault. Everyone was awake now.
“Noise. Bad. Make it stop,” Sarah grumbled into her pillow.
“Hit me again and I’ll make you stop breathing,” Kie said, her threat a little deflated considering she made it with her eyes still closed.
The doorbell rang out again, in rapid succession this time, causing everyone to groan and cover their ears.
“Who the hell rings the doorbell at 2 a.m.?” Sarah whined.
“If it’s those goddamn Jehovah’s Witnesses again, I’m gonna shove their little pamphlet down their throats,” Cleo said.
“I’ll get it,” you said through a yawn.
“Wait, you’re gonna go alone?” Kie grabbed your hand to pull you back.
“What if you get murdered?” Sarah said, sitting up and rubbing her eyes.
Kie and Sarah both climbed out of bed with you, but Cleo didn’t budge.
“If you get murdered let me know,” she said, pulling the blankets tighter around her. “I will avenge you.”
Kie rolled her eyes and pulled the blankets off Cleo, Sarah grabbed her hand to drag her from the bed.
“You’re coming with us, babe,” Sarah said over Cleo’s protests. “And bring your knife.”
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Lightning struck somewhere across the marsh at the exact second the door flew open. You and all three girls, wrapped in your blankets and holding various kitchen utensils, screamed at the sight on the other side. A dark figure of a man stood on the front porch, too far from the light for anyone to make out his identity. Cleo stepped in front of you all with her knife wielded.
“Hey! You better show yourself or get lost,” she shouted at the figure.
As the man slowly made his way into the flickering porch light, you realized you recognized the broad curve of those shoulders, the slope of that neck.
“Rafe,” you whispered.
Just as you identified him, the porch light swept across his face, and all four of you gasped.
The same places on his face you’d laid gentle kisses just a few hours ago were now black and blue, except in the places they were bloody. And he wasn’t walking slowly toward the light, he was limping, barely able to stand. He leaned against the door frame, holding his right hand in his left, his knuckles were raw and wounded.
“Rafe!” You repeated, pushing past your friends to get to him. You tried to support his weight but you couldn’t manage it alone. Sarah came to his other side to help catch him as he stumbled forward.
Kie, however, took a defensive step backward, her arms crossed over her chest. Cleo kept her knife raised.
“Think you can put down the knife now, babe,” Sarah told her.
“You never know,” Cleo said, narrowing her eyes at Rafe.
“Cleo, look at him,” you scolded.
She gave Rafe a once over, finally determining he wasn’t a threat in this state.
“Let’s get him on the couch,” you told Sarah. “Quickly, before he falls.”
Cleo stepped away to allow you to walk Rafe further into the living room. Kie created more distance between herself and your bloodied house guest. You searched her face quickly, it was a mixture of alarm and defensiveness. You could see the decision as it was being made, you tried to stop her but you were too late.
“Kie, wait!”
But she was already running up the stairs, surely to wake the boys. There was no version of these circumstances that would be made better by your half-awake, hotheaded brother.
You and Sarah finally got Rafe on the couch. He leaned forward, grimacing in pain as he propped his head in his hands. You knelt in front of him, trying to find his eyes with yours.
“Rafe, baby, what happened? Are you okay? Please talk to me.”
You placed your hands on his legs, rubbing soothing circles, begging him to fill the silence with an explanation. You looked at Sarah with pure panic in your eyes, she looked back with concern. Whether it was for you or for her brother, you weren’t sure.
“Rafe, it’s okay, whatever it is, you can tell us,” she encouraged him.
You’d never been more thankful for your best friend. You knew how much it took for her to offer him comfort like that.
You reached up to cup Rafe’s cheek in your hand, touching gently so as to not worsen his pain.
“Please, baby, what happened?”
He finally looked at you, and your heart skipped a beat. You thought maybe he was going to confess something terrible, or else cry out in agony. But instead, he just smiled that soft, sleepy half-smile of his and placed his hand over top of yours, caressing your skin with his thumb.
“I made it okay,” he whispered to you.
Before you could react, footsteps thundered down the stairs behind you, the fury of their descent louder than the storm outside.
“What the hell is going on?” JJ bellowed.
“What are you doing here, Cameron?” Pope followed up.
John B rushed to Sarah’s side, placing a hand on her shoulder.
“Everything okay?” He asked the both of you.
“I don’t know,” you shook your head, rising to sit next to Rafe on the couch, slipping your hand into his. The sight only enraged JJ further.
“You have ten seconds to explain yourself and stop bleeding on our fucking couch, Rafe.” JJ barked.
“Jay, can’t you see he’s obviously hurt?” You snapped at your brother.
“Looks more like he did the hurting,” JJ replied.
“You don’t know that! You always assume the worst!” You yelled.
“Because he is the worst!” JJ yelled right back.
You stood in anger, ready to fight your own brother in defense of the man at your side. But Rafe grabbed your hand and pulled you back towards him, not lifting his head as he held you in place. His other hand reached into his back pocket, pulling out a piece of paper that had been folded to protect it from the rain.
Rafe looked up finally, but not at you, at JJ. He extended his arm to offer JJ the piece of paper.
JJ tiptoed over as if Rafe had somehow booby trapped the floorboards between them. You rolled your eyes at his dramatics.
With all eyes on him, and no sound but the storm outside, JJ unfolded the piece of paper. He read it for a long time. Like, a really long time. The little sister in you had to bite back a joke about his intellect, and you met eyes with Pope to see he was holding back the same comment. Even in this incredibly adult moment, you were kids together.
Finally, JJ looked up from the paper. Staring incredulously at Rafe.
“Is this for real?” JJ asked him, eyebrows raised.
Rafe just nodded, the movement causing the cut on his lip to open, making him wince in pain. You sat down beside him again, watching him anxiously for signs that he was hurt elsewhere.
JJ just stared at the two of you for a moment before turning and leaving the room, dropping the piece of paper on the coffee table as he left. Pope and John B went to it immediately to read what had caused JJ to storm out, but you didn’t even care at this point, all that mattered was Rafe being okay, you needed him to be okay.
Except, JJ hadn’t stormed out. He had only gone to the kitchen, from which he was now returning, a bottle of whiskey and a bag of frozen peas in hand. He offered both to Rafe, Rafe opted for the whiskey. He twisted open the cap and took a sip, wincing as it went down.
You grabbed the peas from your brother, holding them up to Rafe’s black eye. He flinched at the contact but settled after a minute. JJ watched as Rafe placed his hand on your leg gratefully and handed back the bottle of whiskey.
“What’s the bourbon for? Drowning our sorrows?” Cleo asked.
“No,” John B said, he and Pope looking up from the paper with disbelieving grins. “Celebrating.”
“What does it say?” Kie asked, stepping further into the room, though she continued to eye Rafe like he was a wild animal that could go feral at any minute.
“We got the land back. They’re not rezoning,” Pope explained. “We’re keeping Poguelandia.”
The room froze for a minute, then erupted in a burst of hoots and hollers. Finally, the storm had some noise to compete with. The others hugged and cheered. Sarah rose from the couch and threw herself into John B’s arms.
“How’d you do it, man?” John B asked Rafe.
“Don’t worry about it,” Rafe said, squeezing your leg three times. “I just took care of it, okay?”
He sounded aggressive, like he always did when addressing these six people, but you saw this for what it really was - a peace offering. A grand gesture. A declaration of his love for you. He gave you your home back, he gave you everything.
As the others continued to celebrate, the volume in the house reaching new heights as they passed around the bottle of whiskey and toasted Poguelandia, you leaned into Rafe, your chin tucked into his shoulder so you could whisper something in his ear.
He smiled at your words, raising his arm to wrap around your shoulders and curling you toward him so he could bring his lips to your temple.
“I love you, too.”
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a/n: had to come out of retirement for this one, missed my boy too much. and holy shit did I have fun writing for rafey again. also this is as canon as I'll write Rafe lol
oh, and what did rafe have to do to get Poguelandia back? That stays between me and him xoxo
Pairing – Rival!Rafe x Biker!Maybank!Female Reader
Summary — You and Rafe are nothing but casual. But when he suddenly has the idea to get married, you agree after some convincing.
Content — 18+, smut, fluff, fingering, blowjob, and banter.
Word Count — 2.2K
"Let's get married."
"What?" You say breathlessly, lifting yourself by the elbows and turning to face Rafe. You don't know if you heard him correctly.
"I said let's get married," Rafe repeats in a lower octave, pushing away the prickling feeling beneath his skin—a consequence of your reaction to his vulnerable declaration.
There it is again. Clear as day. You hadn't misheard him the first time, and the dawning strike of realization causes your heart to skip several beats. But you still don't acknowledge it. Blinking, you're trying to decipher whether this is some cruel trick. "You're not serious."
"Do I look like I'm kidding?"
Annoyance flickers through his hard features and you purse your lips, not wanting to provoke him further by providing a sharp-witted comment. Your mind is spinning—partially from all the orgasms Rafe pulled from you, but also from the proposition.
Marriage. Does he understand the absoluteness of that proposal?
You suspect he doesn't. "You're delirious," you brush it off with a casual laugh, wanting to admonish any potential embarrassment that may arise in him and to move forward. "Let's just forget about it."
"I don't want to forget about it." Rafe grits through clenched teeth. Your reaction is the complete opposite of what he'd imagined to happen. Sure, you weren't the type to jump for joy, but goddamn, you couldn't give him something? "You still haven't given me an answer."
"You don't want a real answer."
"I'm clearly asking for one."
"It's just the post-sex haze."
"It's called post-nut clarity," he rectifies, "And my mind is perfectly clear."
You're giving him exits, to pretend to forget about it and act as if it never happened, but Rafe takes none of them. He doesn't want to drop it, so, finally, you ask. "Why?"
A heavy beat passes before Rafe shrugs, attempting to appear nonchalant when all he can hear is the thrumming of his own heart. "I like being inside of you," he reasons, before meeting the unimpressed look on your face, and adds. "You make me laugh."
You scoff. "Yeah, so do small children falling over. Get off of me," you shove him off, pulling to the ledge of the bed where your wobbly legs find balance on Rafe's hardwood floor. Not knowing how to process this change in affairs, you go search for your clothes instead.
Rafe watches as you scramble around the room, a reflexive habit of yours whenever you feel uncomfortable. His agitation flares, his jaw locks, and with a narrowed gaze that follows your every move, he pulls to a sitting position and rubs his chin with the back of his hand.
"Goddammit. Stop looking for your shit and look at me," Rafe commands, his voice bleeds with a tinge of desperation, forcing you to halt your recovery search to face him. Exposed. Utterly naked. But instead of Rafe making some sexual innuendo about your body, his eyes remain on your face. "Why don't you believe me?"
"Because we've only been fucking," you list, using your manicured fingers to count out all the reasons why this is a terrible idea. "You call me whenever you want a hookup. We're never not arguing, and I swear, sometimes, you don't even like me."
"I like you just fine," Rafe shrugs a careless shoulder, but the conviction behind his tone wavers. "And all the other reasons are bullshit. So, what? If we get married, we can fuck and fight anytime we want."
"That's faulty logic," you retort and he rolls his eyes. "Plus, it's not the basis for a strong marriage. I'm giving you an out; you're not thinking straight, Cameron."
"I'm thinking just fine."
"You sure?" You take a step closer, about to raise three fingers in the air, and ask him to relay the count, when Rafe inclines forward to grab the underside of your thigh, pulling you in. You let out a little yelp of surprise, slotting between his spread legs.
He lifts his chin to meet your gaze, his thumb running absent patterns across your sensitive skin. With a low voice, Rafe asks solemnly, "Why don't you want to get married?"
"Have you not been listening?"
"Those aren't good reasons," he affirms, causing you to huff.
"Only you would tell a woman their reasons aren't good enough," you muse, drifting your hand to the nape of his neck. You tilt your head to the side. "What classifies as a bad reason?"
A beat passes before he answers. "You don't like me."
After he says that, Rafe holds his breath, his eyes searching your face to see any minuscule change in your features only to discover none. Your hand locates his chin, caressing the hard definition of his jaw. "That's not true."
Rafe exhales. "Then, it's settled."
"No, it's not settled."
He groans, tipping his head back, enough for you to see the grand column of his throat. His Adam's apple bobs over your infuriating buffers. It's amusing, and for a brief moment, you envision a future where you get to do this forever. "Do you not want to get married?"
"I never said that."
"So, you don't want to get married to me?"
"Rafe," you sigh, and he returns his gaze. You're referring to him by his first name, instead of the adorned Cameron, and his skin tightens at whatever you plan to say next. "You're a Kook. I'm a Pogue. We're barely in a relationship, and I doubt your parents would approve of this."
"Fuck what they'd say," he admits, with the relentless urgency behind his voice. He means it. "I want to. Since when do you care about what other people think?"
"Since I'm going to be entering into said family."
You say it with such dolefulness, that it sounds like you already accepted his proposal. Already imagined a future with him. The corner of Rafe's mouth lifts; he just needs to do one more thing to convince you.
Rafe hoists you onto his lap to straddle him, your ankles on either side of his waist, as your naked core rubs against the side of his cock, the sensation quickly hardening his erection.
Expecting him to lift you onto his tip, Rafe surprises you by swiping his fingers through your wet folds, causing a small whimper to rise from the back of your throat. "Listen to me," Rafe rasps, pressing gentle kisses along your collarbone before lowering to your breasts, while the tip of his fingers toys with your entrance. "You've given me your reasons why it won't work, I'm going to give you my reasons why it will."
"I'm not going to change my mind,"
"You sure?" Rafe grins, teasing your slit. Your walls clench around the nothingness, desperately needing to be filled, and it causes you to bounce up and down, rubbing yourself against Rafe's hardened cock. Your hands land on his shoulders for steadiness, and that's when he begins to pump you.
"I think we look good together," Rafe lists with a grunt, feeling your pussy rub against his length. Desire pools inside of Rafe, his cock throbbing, but he concentrates on the task at hand, adding another digit. "You're the only person that keeps me on my toes—fuck," he groans, and you smirk.
Your slickness covers Rafe's cock, but you don't sink down on it. "Are you sure you're going to win this?" You murmur against the shell of Rafe's ear, planting feather-light kisses along the edge of his jaw. Rafe squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, needing to gather himself before he slides in his ringed finger—the cold singlet grazing your heat, making you gasp and stop your movements.
Rafe holds your hips, while his fingers fully thrust inside of you with such vigor and performance, that a rich moan rips from your lips. He concludes his final reason: "And I get to fuck this every single night."
His darkened eyes lift to meet your hooded ones. His fingers work a steady but increasing rhythm inside of you, the coil of familiar pleasure twisting your gut. "Look at how pretty you are coming undone by me. Don't you want this forever?"
"Shut–shut up, Rafe," you whimper, your hands reaching for his arm between your legs, attempting to slow down the pace as your sensitivity is plowed into overdrive. Rafe snatches your wrists into one hand, dragging them away. "Too much."
Your legs attempt to close around him, but his large frame prevents such a thing. Rafe grins at the look of pleasure blooming on your face, the unsteadiness of your breaths alongside your lashes fluttering against your cheeks, and he fastens his strokes.
Whimpers and moans escape you in rising increments, and Rafe kisses your mouth, swallowing all that noise and desperation and need. "Say yes," he murmurs against your tingly lips.
"N–no," you refuse, still holding an ounce of restraint.
But Rafe simply laughs. His fingers slow its assault, leaving your mind a completely boggled mess. Nothing but the sensation of your orgasm on the near horizon resides, hooked completely on fulfilling your own pleasure, that you can't think of anything else to do but whine.
He looks back at you, sincerity capturing his face. " I like you, Maybank. It'll be fun to make it official."
"I—" You can barely comprehend a single word he's saying, the fizzling of your orgasm dissipating as you desperately try to wield it back in. "I can't think right now," you whimper, lowering yourself to give him a needy kiss, "Make me come first."
He doesn't need another reason before he reenters you, his thumb circling your clit and massaging it as his fingers thrusts in and out. Sounds of wetness echo throughout the quiet room, and when Rafe leans forward to add another mark—biting a sensitive spot on your neck—you unravel with a loud cry, tipping your head onto Rafe's shoulder.
Rafe guides you through your intense orgasm, your walls clenching around him so hard, they barely can move. Slowing his thrusts until it completely fade away, when Rafe pulls out, he presses his slick-covered fingers on the dip of your bottom lip, forcing them apart to lick clean. And when you do, he pulls you back in to seal it with a kiss.
Your chest rises and falls heavily as your eyes close for a moment of respite. Rafe's gaze, however, never strays from your face—patient and waiting.
This is such a bad idea. The whole premise of a Cameron-Maybank marriage could potentially knock the earth off its axis. You're from two different worlds and carry different viewpoints, but there's something fun, exciting, and fulfilling in being with Rafe. It can't be just because he gives you one of the best orgasms of your life.
You know JJ would hate this. He barely tolerates the idea of your hookup with Rafe as it is, and out of everyone, you value most of your brother's opinion. But, for once, you can't seem to find it in yourself to care.
"Fuck," you announce, reopening your eyes and meeting his stare. "Fuck it. Let's do it."
Rafe's lips pull to a genuine smile. "Yeah?"
You nod. "It'll be fun."
He grabs your hand, "Let's go."
"Right now?"
"Don't tell me you're getting cold feet already?"
"You think I back down from a challenge?"
"It isn't the first time."
You slap his shoulder and Rafe laughs. He moves his hand to your hips again, lifting you off when you stop him. "Wait," you say, looking between you, at the red and swollen cock that hasn't gotten its release. "I have to do something before we leave."
You sink to the floor on your knees, still between his legs, as your thumb rubs the pearly beads of precum over the tip, causing Rafe to groan. He was so focused on your pleasure and making you agree to his outrageous proposal, that he didn't get a chance to relieve himself. You want to help.
After all, isn't that the first step to marriage?
Taking him into your mouth and tasting your slick rub all over him, you hollow your cheeks as you begin to suck. Rafe moans from the contact your lips made with his length, your hand wrapping around the base to steadily pump him alongside the suction.
It feels like absolute heaven. His hands thread through your hair, pushing you deeper onto his cock, and making you gag on the girth. This made you retreat, just slightly, to glare up at him. "Don't do that."
Wanting desperate release, Rafe's willing to listen to about anything. "Yes, ma'am."
When you return to sucking him off, Rafe makes sure not to push you further on his dick without prior approval, so you can take him appropriately. At least that means he'll listen to you in the marriage. As you steadily increase your pumps, and your jaw aches from the stretch, you feel Rafe's cock twitch.
"Come on, baby, come for me," you command, lifting your gaze to meet his eyes. Not even a moment later, he comes inside your mouth, spilling to the back of your throat, and you swallow up every lick of his hot cum.
You wipe the corner of your mouth with the pad of your thumb, and Rafe assists in pulling you back to your feet. Giving him a kiss, you grin. "Good boy. Now, let's go."
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Lily Maybank had never given a single shit about Rafe Cameron, in fact she might’ve even hated him at one point. Rafe Cameron hadn’t ever really given a shit about Lily Maybank either - he’d been too focused on terrorising her brother.
Trigger warnings for mentions of abuse, violence, threats, guns, blood, drugs, stalking, controlling behaviour etc
Word count: 4.9k
Masterlist | Part Two
I’m sorry this took me so so so long to get to but I rewrote it and basically decided to make it multiple parts and create my first outer banks OC! I hope you don’t mind! I’m using the iconic Sky Ferreira as my inspo for the characters look but obv ur allowed to imagine what you want! As always thanks for interacting and my dms and requests are always open! Based off this request.
Divider by @uzmacchiato
For a year, Lily Maybank had been working at the Kildare County Country Club as a waitress; mastering the clean-cut, tucked in, happy-to-please look as she served drinks and took orders. She would tie her dyed, blonde hair into a tight ponytail, put concealer over the circles under her eyes and plaster a grin onto her face; balancing plates of food in one hand and cocktails in the other.
She, to the patrons of the country club at least, seemed entirely unlike the other Maybanks known around town, and when they learnt of the relation some were quite surprised. She had admitted it with a bashful smile when a regular had asked for her surname, fearful that their tips would dry up. But instead, they had muttered a surprised "oh" and then actually given her slightly more than usual - which she of course graciously accepted, all whilst hiding the embarrassment in her gaze.
The reputation that the Maybanks had around town was that they were ill-tempered, lazy, alcoholic, trouble makers - both the father and the son. Only a handful of the patrons at the Country Club knew them further than that - for better or for worse - and Rafe Cameron happened to be one of them.
The first time he'd noticed Lily, she had already been working there for a few months. She was leant across the bar, a tray of empty glasses in her hand as she chatted to her coworker, a beaming smile on her face and a wind-chime laugh falling from her lips. He took a few steps back to make sure he'd seen her right; so effortlessly beautiful in her work attire, surely this wasn't the scruffy Lily Maybank he'd known since middle school? But then she looked up at him, her smile fading and a small furrow forming between her brows for a half second before being replaced by her customer service face, and he knew that it was her.
"Can I help you?" She asked, placing the tray down on the bar before standing straight, her coworker returning to whatever task they'd been doing before, leaving her alone there with him.
She knew who he was immediately, much to her silent displeasure, though she couldn't help but note how attractive he'd grown. She supposed that he already knew that though, and that only increased her dislike.
"No, I just didn't recognise you there for a second. Been a long time." Rafe let out a sly chuckle, his hands in his pockets as he casually eyed her. "How you doing?"
She scoffed at that and an amused smile started to pull at her lips, though it seemed more bitter once she spoke, her voice plain and mature.
"I'm working, Rafe. Can I get you anything?"
He could see the momentary spark of trouble she'd had in her eyes, and he'd expected a taunt, something similar to one of the things her brother would say, or maybe for her to even respond to his flirtatious gaze, to bite her lip or something. It deeply disappointed and confused him that she gave neither of these responses, and he had to think of his own response for a second. Could she get him anything? Her phone number maybe.
"Two more vodkas to table eighteen on Ward Cameron's tab. And one for yourself if you want it." He answered, trying to sound genuine as he plastered the most innocent looking smile he could across his face.
But again, she didn't seem to buy it, a spark of something in her eyes quickly crushed by the monotone, customer-friendly response of "I'll accept it as a tip, thank you" before she hurried behind the bar.
From that point on, Rafe made it a point to look out for Lily every time he went to the Country Club. He would try his hardest to make conversation with her, to even get her to hold eye contact with him for more than thirty seconds, but it never worked. No matter how much he tipped her, no matter how friendly he was, she refused to show any interest past that second long spark. The second in which her eyes actually looked like she might say 'yes', like the smile on her lips would be genuine.
Rafe found himself becoming obsessed with these seconds, and it didn't go unnoticed by his friends, who would tease him for his seeming crush on the Maybank sister.
"She's not gonna fuck you man, she's way too hot." Kelce had laughed after she'd purposely dodged around Rafe to serve another customer, the disappointment on his face entirely visible.
"Shut up, I'm not trying to fuck her." Rafe grimaced, sitting back down and nursing himself with a drink.
"What are you trying to do then? Take JJ Maybank's sister out on a date? The family are as Pogue as it gets. Sure she looks clean now, but in her spare time... she probably smokes meth or something."
"She doesn't smoke meth." Rafe spoke in quick defence of her, shooting his friend an unimpressed look.
"She might sell it though." Topper snorted.
Kelce laughed again and though Rafe also shot a look at Topper, a small smirk cracked at the Cameron's icy straight face, only making his friends laugh harder.
A few months later, Rafe was finally able to have a real conversation with Lily, catching her alone just as her shift ended. The Country Club had just shut for the night, and she was walking out to her bike, an unsightly hoodie pulled over her neat uniform and her earphones being rapidly untangled by her chapped hands.
Rafe and his friends were drunkenly congregating by the entrance, waiting for their cabs home, and none of them seemed to notice the way that Lily had silently slid past, too distracted by the loud noises being made by one another. That was none except for Rafe, of course.
He slowly swaggered over to her, relieved when no one shouted his name or seemed to notice his quiet departure, and stood in silence for a moment as she unlocked the chain around her bike.
"What do you want, Rafe?"
For the first time, her tone was more than just placid politeness - empty and customer friendly. It was harsh yet quiet, like an icy winter breeze, and it caught Rafe unexpectedly.
"I just wanna talk to you. Am I allowed to do that?"
"Do what you want, you're going to anyway." She shrugged.
"You're saying that like it's a bad thing." He scoffed.
"It's a great thing. I just love cleaning up the unnecessary mess you all leave behind almost every time you come here." She replied sarcastically, no hesitation in her responses, even as Rafe's eyes thinned.
"It's literally your job."
"I'm just saying, you can tell a real difference between a customer who's worked a real job and one who hasn't."
"Who are you to decide what makes a job real?"
She shrugged again and half smiled, lifting her leg up to jump onto her bike.
"You're right. Who am I?"
Rafe put his hand on the handles, earning a look of discomfort from Lily that had him retracting his touch as quickly as he'd laid it down.
"Sorry. I- uh-" The man stumbled on his words for a second, intimidated by the ferocity of Lily's eyes before regaining his confident stance. "I just think you're really pretty... I could show you a real good time."
At that, all she could do was scoff again, shaking her head with an amused smirk.
"Even if I was interested, my brother would kill you." She replied, and then stepped down onto her pedals and rode off, not waiting to hear a reply from Rafe.
From then onwards, Rafe made sure to tidy his table whenever he was done with it; making his friends stack their plates and their glasses and wipe up any spillage they'd left. Of course they teased him for it, knowing exactly why he'd picked up the new trait, but he didn't care. He was obsessed with her.
Every shift that she was on he made sure to leave a big tip, and whenever he got the chance to speak to her he took great advantage of it, a sly grin on his face whenever he was able to make her slip from her customer service facade, sometimes an even slyer one making an appearance on hers.
He felt as if he'd struck gold when he saw Lily out at the local nightclub one night. She was dancing freely with her silky hair flowing loosely and a pretty dress complimenting her frame. The two girls beside her faded into a blurred background, Rafe's vision set entirely on the Maybank sister, his jaw almost dropping at the sight.
With no word to his friends, he headed straight over to Lily before stopping himself halfway to begin a more casual swagger towards her, even feigning a look of surprise when he was close enough for her to see.
"Since when do you go out? Aren't you meant to be at work right now?" He teased, half shouting over the music.
She didn't bother to raise her voice much, and so Rafe had to lean in close to hear her.
"Have you memorised my schedule now or something?"
"You wish, sweetheart. I just never see you having fun." He smirked and she rolled her eyes.
"I think your idea of fun probably wildly differs from mine."
"You don't know anything about me, Miss Maybank."
"Nor do you know anything about me, Rafe."
There were mere inches between their faces, Rafe's body leaning slightly over hers, a clear gleam of excitement in his eyes.
"Why don't we do some learning then?" He winked.
And for a moment, Lily almost said yes. Maybe it was the alcohol, but she was starting to feel like the eldest Cameron sibling might not be as bad as she’d decided he was. The lowly buttoned shirt that he was wearing didn't help, his chest illuminated by the colourful moving lights. His face even looked slightly different, like the air of menace that she'd been picturing around it was fading, his handsome features and dazzling eyes finally acknowledgeable.
Her pride and distrust was far stronger than any lust his ruffled appearance might've caused her though, and so she quickly pulled herself together, straightening her posture and stepping backwards.
"I'm with my girls. Bother me some other time."
The next time that Lily saw Rafe was only a few weeks later, and she was irritated to find herself actually slightly happy to hear his voice. Since the night at the club, her thoughts had been drifting to him far too often, lying on her back in her bed and trying to ignore her fathers shouting through the walls, daydreaming about a life with Rafe. The Kook life.
But no. That would never happen. She didn't want it to happen.
"Usual order please. How you doing, Lily? Busy day?" He grinned at her from across the bar, his arms casually crossed across his chest.
She let the corners of her lips twitch up as she answered, her eyes going between his and the drinks she was making.
"Look around. Does it seem like it's been a busy day?"
It was raining heavily, and the building was practically empty.
"So shouldn't you be in a good mood then?" Rafe smiled to which she raised her eyebrows questioningly.
"Why would that put me in a good mood?"
"Because you've had to deal with less customers. Less assholes like me."
At that, she let a slightly truer tinge of amusement cross her lips.
"You're right, but it gets a bit boring... and you've actually been semi okay recently."
"Semi okay? I'll take that." Rafe grinned, and she suddenly felt a need to take away from the niceness of what she'd just said, becoming disappointed when she added "Good because that's all you're getting" and his grin only widened.
Why did she care about seeing Rafe Cameron happy? Why would that made her feel some type of way?
She didn't like it, and so she said nothing else as she handed his drinks to him, even when he awkwardly stood still for a second, waiting for her to say something. She wanted to watch him walk back to his table, but she didn't dare to.
"Well she actually smiled at you today." Topper teased when Rafe sat down, causing the other lads; Kelce, Travis and Monty to laugh.
"Yeah, yeah. I'm getting there." Rafe smiled, unable to even be annoyed as he thought of how slightly friendly she had been. And how beautiful she had looked in that little black dress at the club. He hadn't been able to stop thinking about that.
"I don't know why you're still even trying it. She's literally a Maybank! Even if she was interested, that's a stupid amount of trouble just for some pussy." Kelce scoffed.
"I'd totally do it just to piss of JJ. Take some pics or something and show them to him." Travis smirked, at which point Rafe's smile dropped.
"Don't even talk like that, bro. That's fucked up." He muttered.
So, intimidated by the bigger man, the conversation quickly moved onto something else, all whilst Rafe continued to sneak glances across the room at Lily, silently cleaning glasses and serving the occasional patron.
A couple of hours went by of drunken chatter, and although Rafe's focus had finally somewhat shifted from Lily Maybank, hers had not shifted from him. She was much more discreet about it, mostly busying herself with any task she could find and chatting to the one other coworker on that section. As it got later, more people left and it wasn't long until Lily found herself almost entirely out of jobs to do except for tidy the seating area and tend to one customer at the bar. Her co worker had gone out back to sort the bar stocks, preparing to close and not needing to be on the floor with just Rafe's group and a small group of older men to serve.
Lily jumped up from wiping down a table when she spotted a gentleman at the bar, shooting him a sheepish smile and quickly rushing over.
"Sorry I didn't see you there, I hope you weren't waiting too long. What can I get you?" She asked politely.
"No need to apologise I was only here barely twenty seconds. Some kind of spider sense you got for handsome men?" He grinned, flashing a set of pearly white teeth.
Lily chuckled, used to the flirtation that came with working behind a bar. He wasn't particularly unattractive, and although he was far too old for her, she didn't find him intimidating, therefore decided not to react with disgust and potentially loose a tip.
"Maybe so. Might be playing up today, though." She smiled, and he laughed hard - far harder than necessary.
"You're funny..." he looked at her name tag "Lily. I'll have one double whiskey on the rocks, and one of whatever you want."
"Oh well thank you but I can't drink on shift. I can accept the price of a drink as a tip though."
"Tell you what, I'll tip you the price of two drinks and buy you one shot if you do it now, deal?"
The price of the drinks at the Country Club were ridiculous, a minimum of thirty dollars each, and Lily could've really done with the money. Her dad had never supported her and he hardly worked anyway, and her brother was never able to keep a job. If there had been no cameras she would've taken the shot and been done with it.
"I really can't, sir. If I got caught I'd get fired."
"Well then I could just pay your rent for you princess, pay you a lot more than whatever they're paying you here." He grinned, and a shiver ran down her spine.
She quickly shook her head and spoke quietly, blushing from a mix of discomfort and embarrassment.
"Oh- I'm not- I don’t do that, sir."
"Not even for five thousand dollars upfront?"
She swallowed uncomfortably, her throat going dry as she started to internally panic, wondering how she could politely get rid of the customer. Then a familiar, deep voice broke the short, tense silence and Lily hated how relieved she was to hear it.
"Is this guy bothering you?" Rafe asked her, sounding calm whilst clearly looking the opposite.
She stayed frozen, unable to answer, and once Rafe saw that there would be no movement from her lips, he quickly turned to face the man at the bar.
"He seems to be - Hey sir, do you wanna maybe back off?" He spoke with effortless authority, and it made Lily anxiously clench her hands.
"What for?" The man protested, his eyes wide as he focused on Rafe's face, which was inching slowly closer.
He kept his voice low so as to not make a scene, but he could’ve whispered and still been as intimidating.
"I've just watched you sit and eye her up like a piece of meat whilst she cleaned that booth. Then I bet you've just gone and made a pass, haven't you? Probably offered her a wad."
"I'm not trying to cause any trouble."
"Well then pay your tab and leave."
There was little resistance to Rafe's words after that, his looming stature intimidating and his gaze menacing, particularly to someone who knew who the Cameron's were. The man politely handed Lily three fifty dollar bills, and then left without waiting for his change, leaving the two younger adults in tense silence for a minute.
Lily didn't know why she could feel her heart beating in her throat, nor why she was so relieved for Rafe to have gotten rid of the man. She was extremely used to men belittling and bothering her - at work and at home. Something about Rafe Cameron’s protective yet haunting presence had shaken her up though - made the threat of the creepy customer seem so much more real.
“You okay, Maybank?” Rafe broke the silence, leaning against the bar with furrowed brows.
Lily swallowed and nodded, blinking quickly and collecting herself with an accusatory glare.
“Why did you do that? I can handle my own job.”
Rafe rolled his eyes, half surprised by the sudden change in her demeanour, but not really.
“I’m sure you can. Just thought I’d help out, you looked uncomfortable. Sue me.”
“I wasn’t uncomfortable. And besides, if he complained I could loose my job.” She crossed her arms and then added with a hiss “I know that you might not understand what the consequences of that would be to a normal person, but it basically means I’d have to starve.”
“Yeah, whatever Maybank. I can go get him back if you want. I think you’re just mad that you actually wanted to take him up on whatever offer he gave you.” The teasing smirk on Rafe’s lips had drifted into something more sinister, his chest suddenly prickling with irritation at yet another rejection from Lily. “Sorry for taking away business. I know a lot of girls from The Cut do that kind of stuff. Didn’t think you were one of them.”
Her eyes thinned, his fishing hook managing to snag onto her and reel her in. She knew that he was just winding her up, and she never would’ve usually cared, but for some reason he had managed to genuinely get under her skin. A million and one insults raced through her mind, repetitions of things said to her by her father, and she wanted nothing more than to spit them out at Rafe and then run out the back and cry. Instead, she turned around and said nothing, ignoring the half chuckled apology coming from across the bar and searching for her co-worker.
They let Lily go home early; over-staffed due to the bad weather and concerned by the uncharacteristic anxiety in her expression. In the locker room, she took a few minutes to collect her thoughts, trying to be angry at Rafe but unintentionally finding reasons not to be.
“He called me a prostitute!… but he didn’t really mean it. He’s rude and condescending!... but so am I sometimes. He made me look weak!… but he was just trying to be a gentleman.” She mentally reasoned with herself. “He’s done so much shit to JJ… but then again, when was the last time JJ did anything for me? He’s not even at home most of the time. He leaves me alone with dad, he doesn’t call…”
And as her thoughts trailed on, she found her alliances suddenly beginning to flip, a serious onset of cognitive dissonance throwing her off guard. She thought of the last time that she’d seen her brother; it had been tense. Both of their bodies bruised from the same hands, no words spoken between the two, a sorry look cast from him as he snuck out of the front door, a heavy rucksack on his back. A lump built in her throat at the thought of his guilty eyes and she quickly shook her head, swallowing the lump down and taking a deep breath before standing up and slinging her bag over her shoulder, hoping that her cotton hood would be enough to protect her from the rain but knowing that it wouldn’t.
Lily said a quiet goodbye to her co-workers as she slinked past them, heading out of the front door and preparing to run through the rain to get to her bike. It was coming down heavily, pounding against the metal roof of the bike shed in a way that reverberated through Lily’s bones as she unlocked her bike. Even as she put in her earphones and played her music on full blast she could feel the endless cold thumping. She already felt soaked through by it, and a shiver ran down her spine before she pushed down on her right pedal and started her journey back home.
Only, she had hardly been riding for a minute when the flash of a bright headlight through the cascading water had her suddenly pressing on her breaks, almost sending her skidding across the asphalt car park. A Range Rover had suddenly pulled out in front of her - she would’ve heard it’s beeping if not for her earphones - and it only took her seconds to figure out who it was, an irritated scowl pulling at her features.
“You could’ve hit me! What do you want?” Lily half shouted, pushing the bike to the side of the vehicle.
Rafe rolled down the window with an amused smile.
“Get in. I’ll put your bike in the back.”
She looked around, considering her options for a minute. There was barely anyone around and the storm wasn’t going to let up anytime soon. She’d either have to carry on riding home and almost definitely get a cold… or take the ride from a person that she’d considered to be a complete scumbag until recently. In fact, now that she thought on it, she couldn’t think of why exactly he was ever a scumbag. Other than for being a dick in high school and a chauvinistic Kook who hated her brother - like that didn’t make up almost half of the island.
A heavy sigh fell from her pink lips, drops of rain that had been caught on the plump flesh dripping slowly down her chin as she spoke.
“Fine. But don’t try anything with me.”
Rafe let out a short chuckle and then jumped from the car, picking up her bike before she had the chance to and putting it in the back. 
“What does that even mean? What would I try?” He teased, speaking loudly over the rain whilst Lily awkwardly climbed into the passenger side, slowly looking around at the polished, modern interior with a feeling of discomfort and envy.
“You know what that means. Don’t play stupid with me.” She muttered, side eyeing him, trying not to stare at his wet shirt.
Rafe chuckled lightly and turned to face her directly, his stomach stirring at being so close but playing it cool nonetheless.
“Come on Lily, I know you’re not that easy. I just saw you in the rain and thought I’d be a nice guy. Is that so hard to believe?”
He started the car, the heavy engine sending vibrations through the leather seats. His right hand gripped the gear stick and Lily crossed her legs as she watched it - the natural flex of veins and muscle beneath his tanned skin. Then she swallowed and took a quick breath, dragging her eyes upwards to the side of his face and speaking with faux carelessness.
“Yeah, kind of. I mean - what is this whole, like, thing that you're doing? You trying to piss off my brother or something?"
Rafe’s eyes drifted between Lily’s and the road. He scoffed, and then smiled.
"I could give two shits about your brother… I just think you're real pretty."
Lily smiled back at him, softly asking "Yeah?" and Rafe took a short breath, suddenly thinking that he’d managed to crack at the hard shell around Lily Maybank.
"Yeah." He replied, and then his smile was promptly snatched as the blonde girl let out a dry chuckle.
"Yeah, I bet you think that. You think that about everything with a pussy." She teased, and then at the look of offence on Rafe’s face, let out a real laugh.
The sound was short, but for some reason Rafe knew that he wanted to hear more of it.
"You think I'm a player?" He asked incredulously, half teasing, enjoying the devilish smile on Lily’s lips.
"Player... slut whatever you want to call it." She shrugged.
"Damn, okay then, rude." Rafe muttered, and she shrugged again.
"I'm sure you've said much ruder things."
"Yeah, but not to someone who's driving me home for free."
"You've got me there Cameron."
Then they both laughed, and whilst Lily found herself suddenly confused by the enjoyment of Rafe’s company, he was finding himself even more enamoured by the woman, the sound of her happiness making him feel something unfamiliar. He couldn’t look at her for too long though, the rain was almost blinding, landing on his windscreen in wide, white splashes and bouncing across the slippery roads.
When he realised that they were already almost in The Cut, he regretted the irresponsible speed of his driving that he’d always naturally stuck to and started to slow down a bit.
“So how long have you been working at the Country Club for?” He asked, lightly rocking his palm against the decorative silver ball of his gear stick.
“About a year now. I was at Mrs Anne’s Supplies for two years before that.”
“Mrs Anne’s? Never heard of it.”
“You wouldn’t have. It’s deep in Pogue-land. No Kooks allowed.” Lily shot him a teasing grin and he couldn’t help but return it.
He shook his head, unfazed and maybe even slightly amused, and then saw that they were almost at the Maybank residence - a house that he had only visited before to egg. Without thinking, he asked "Do you want me to pull up down the road or?" and then found himself surprised by the lack of ego that he was feeling.
Was it worth getting Lily into trouble just so that he could gloat? Rafe had heard the rumours about Luke Maybank, and subconsciously decided that it wasn’t worth it. To his surprise though, Lily snorted and shook her head.
"Nah come right up to the house I don't care if JJ sees you, he's a dick and he’s probably not here anyway."
A part of him was glad to hear that. He turned and looked at her again, driving slowly down the grassy road, and tried to examine her features as closely as he could whilst remaining casual. Her tired eyes shone with a dampened yet hopeful light, and her soft features were tinted red from the cold, reminding him of a vintage Russian doll that his mother had always kept on her dresser. He had never been allowed to touch it.
"You sure you're not the one trying to piss off your brother?" He smirked, ignoring the sound of his heartbeat in his ears.
"I don't need you to do that, but thanks for the offer I guess.” Lily half smiled, her arms crossed across her chest.
“What’s he done to piss you off, anyway?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know.” She muttered and Rafe scoffed.
“I can probably imagine-”
Then she cut him off with a sharp snap, her previously relaxed gaze suddenly shooting daggers.
“Don’t fucking talk about my brother, Rafe.”
Rafe slowed down, coming right up to the front of the Maybank residence before he pressed on the breaks, struggling to hide the confusion in his eyes despite his continued feigning of nonchalance.
“Okay, okay. Noted.” He half smiled, and then the car was suddenly silent.
The engine was off, the radio too, and neither of them could think of what else to say. All that there was was the heavy thrumming of the rain, and a lingering feeling of wanting to stay inside the warm car but being unable to. Lily uncrossed her legs and broke the silence.
“Anyway… thanks for the ride. I can get my bike out.”
Rafe wanted desperately to say something - to do something. To put his hand on her thigh and lean in, for her lips to press into his and for her to be putty in his hands. Or not even that. Maybe he just wanted to hear her laugh again.
But it was too late. Lily had opened the car door and was back in the rain again, and although he wanted to get out and help her with her bike, he decided not to. There wasn’t one clear reason why, and Rafe couldn’t be bothered to decipher the mixed feelings of excitement and rejection. Instead, he decided that he would go home, smoke some weed and try not to think about Lily Maybank, although he highly doubted that that last one be would be achieved.
I really hope you guys like this! I have some plans and ideas for this series but I’m not one hundred percent certain on it yet. I think I might incorporate some other requests into the storyline. My requests are open! Anywayy, please don’t forget to repost, comment and like. My account is small and interaction means the world. Stay safe <3
what about reader getting bit but it doesnt go through because she was wearing rafes leather jacket like negans
stop i’ll cry omg 🥹 thank you so much! hope this request was what you were looking for!
ALMOST GONE - twd!obx au
cw: swearing, killing zombies, maybank humor in the face of a near death experience lmao
“rafe, i already told you. i don’t want your jacket.”
“too bad. you’re wearing it.” he shot you an annoyed look.
you groaned, lightly banging your head against the car you both were hiding behind. he was exhausting some days.
he didn’t take no for an answer and would argue with a brick wall. most days you hated it. some days it entertained you. right now wasn’t one of them.
“you’re shivering so loud walkers are going to start to notice. do us both a favor and just put the jacket on.” he grumbled. he wasn’t even looking at you while he spoke, too focused on the store across the road. trying to make sure it was clear to walk across.
“fine. but i’m not going to be happy about it. and i’m only doing this because our safety depends on it.” you rolled your eyes and shrugged the jacket on.
it was warm and it did stop your shivering..
“and another thing-“ rafe’s hand immediately covered your mouth and tugged you closer to him, nearly falling in his lap. your eyes widened with anger until he raised a finger to his mouth, telling you to stay quiet, and then pointed to the entrance of the store.
two walkers were shuffling by. you hadn’t even heard them.
rafe’s hand squeezed your wrist where he was still holding you to him. he was tense, eyes narrowed. watching the two walkers roam past.
you and rafe were both silent, not wanting to sound any alarms. the rule was always get in and get out quietly.
you waited 10 more minutes until they were out of sight before crossing the road and quietly opening the door to the rundown store.
the shelves were basically empty but pope had said we hadn’t cleared out this side of town yet so it was worth a shot.
rafe shoved a chair underneath the front door, making sure nothing could stumble in. he nodded to himself then gestured to the first aisle.
“we’ll start on the right and work our way back to the front. see what we can find.”
“it’ll take too long. i’ll go left, you go right-“
“no.”
“rafe, we’ll cover more ground and be out sooner-“
“i said no.”
you huffed, turning to face him, “i’m not asking. i’m telling you. god, could you just for once listen to me and not argue about everything?”
rafe clenched his jaw, arms tensing. he snuck a quick glance around the musty, abandoned store. he didn’t see any other entrances and didn’t hear any shuffling or footsteps. the store wasn’t that big. maybe it would be okay…
“if you see or hear anything…”
you grinned, “knew you’d come around, tough guy.”
you heard rafe scoff as you turned around and started down your respective aisle. it was mainly empty containers, expired food, and kids toys littered throughout the shelves. you kept your knife in hand on instinct.
occasionally you’d hear rafe shifting through his own finds on the other side of the store.
you were just about to reach for a pack of socks when you felt a hand on your shoulder. you turned your head, expecting rafe but instead was met with a decayed, half eaten face.
you let out a scream instantly from the fear of being so close to a walker. adrenaline pumping, you turned around, bringing your hands up to shove it’s chest but it was bigger and kept pushing against you, snapping it’s jaws towards your face.
blood and spit was spraying everywhere, making the grip you had on your knife slip. in a last ditch effort to kill the walker, you shoved your elbow into his chest and raised your hand to it’s head but it took the opportunity to bear all its weight against you, taking you both down to the floor.
you vaguely heard rafe shout your name across the store and a huge crash but didn’t have time to focus when the rotten face lunged towards you again.
this time, latching onto your shoulder and biting down.
hard.
you screamed. this was it. you were done for.
tears streaming down your face, you grabbed the walkers head, your hands easily sinking into the decaying flesh. you put all your strength into pushing it away from you but then you felt its entire body being lifted away from you.
with your chest heaving up and down, you watched as rafe sunk his axe into the walkers head before it slumped over. his wild eyes immediately found yours.
you were holding your shoulder where the walker had chomped down. silent tears still pouring. rafe raced towards you, whispering, “no, no, no, no.”
you shook your head, trying to shove him away but he held your wrists down. he wouldn’t let you push him away this time.
his rough hands started tugging and pulling his jacket off of you. he was clumsy with his actions and his own vision was starting to blur but he couldn’t figure out why.
all he could focus on was seeing if the bite went through.
once he could see your bare skin, his breath caught in his throat. his dirty, blood stained fingers slowly drifted up until he was tracing the outline of your shoulder so delicately and soft you thought you were imaging it.
he stilled.
a sob escaped your throat. you couldn’t look. you knew what you’d see if you did.
“hey, hey, look at me.”
you closed your eyes, shaking your head back and forth. you felt like a child but you couldn’t help it. this was the end for you.
“look. look.” rafe grabbed your chin in his hands and turned your face to the left.
there was no broken skin.
no blood.
no bite.
you gasped. your other hand automatically coming up to the area and feeling for yourself. trying to convince your brain to catch up with what you were seeing.
you looked up at rafe who was leaning back on his heels, breathing heavy.
“i’m not… it didn’t…”
he ran a hand through his hair, hands shaking like he wanted to reach out and grab you. hold you close. “no. it didn’t…” he gulped. that was too close of a call. “it didn’t get you.”
all the tension, the adrenaline, the fear left your body at his words. you body slumped forward, exhausted. rafe looked like he was one second away from bringing the walker back to life and killing it all over again.
you sat in the dark, deserted store staring at each other for awhile until your body finally understood it wasn’t in danger anymore.
once you had time to process what just happened, you let out a nervous laugh.
rafe looked at you like you were insane. his eyebrows raised and furrowed.
“guess i should be glad you made me wear the jacket, huh?”
should've known it was a matter of time || rafe cameron
requested? No, I just need to write something!!!!!!
prompt: After getting caught by Singh’s men, you find yourself face-to-face with none other than Rafe Cameron.
For the sake of the story & so I don’t have to write it out - you are JJ’s sister. You and Rafe had been dating in secret before the incident on the tarmac occurred. Even though you had tried so hard to hide your relationship from JJ and the other pogues, it was all worthless when Rafe made you choose between him or helping out John B & Sarah (who is also your best friend). You obviously chose the latter and he declared your relationship over. You have mostly avoided him until this point. Or: You are Kie in episodes 1 & 2 of season 3, except you’re Rafe’s ex.
The sound of your shallow, anxious breathing was the only noise filling your ears as you ascended the staircase. With the guard’s heavy footfalls echoing close behind, you had little time to scan the room for any possible escape routes. When you hesitate for a second too long, his voice cuts through the silence, annoyed: “Up.”
Reaching the top step, he jerks your body towards the first closed door, swinging it open, “Inside.” Although futile, you keep your feet planted in their position in the hallway. With an irritated exhale, he shoves you into the room. You whirl towards him, fury lighting your eyes. “Why am I here? Who are you working for?” you demand, a hint of anger & fear weaving through your tone.
“Dinner at eight. I’d clean up.” he mutters harshly as his eyes trail over your figure with barely concealed disdain. Begging, you glance at him desperately, “Just tell me what they want.” He doesn’t spare you another glance before slamming the door and clicking the lock into place.
Though hopeless, you pull at the handle a few times praying it may give. When it doesn’t, you admit defeat and turn your body to fully face the room. Taking a step towards the windows you pull the curtains open seeking an escape route but instead, you're met with a few guards standing right outside. Huffing out a frustrated breath, you keep scanning your eyes over the room.
Your gaze catches on a wardrobe and you make your way over. A row of identical red dresses hang on the rack inside, a note attached to the first one. Your fingers tremble as you reach for it, reading over the messy scrawl: “Pick your size.”
Your face contorts in confusion before it dawns on you - this is what they expect you to wear at the dinner they have planned for the night. Realizing that leaving this room is your only hope in formulating a plan of escape, you admit defeat and reluctantly pull out your size.
–
A few hours later finds you dressed and laying back against the bed. Your fingers twist anxiously as you wait for the dinner to begin, thoughts of your brother & friends racing through your mind. A brief knock taps against the door, alerting you for only a moment before the door swings open to a woman standing in the hallway. “He’s ready.” She speaks softly, gesturing you to follow her with a slight tilt to her head.
Exhaling a nervous breath, you hesitantly follow behind. When you reach the main level, she points towards a room where your ears pick up the unmistakable sound of a drink being poured. You step towards the open doors, your gaze instinctively landing on a man who’s standing with his back towards you. He lifts the glass to his lips, taking small sips of the dark liquid.
“Uh... excuse me?” you call out, your voice coming out shakier than you’d intended.
The man stiffens before slowly turning to face you. Time seems to slow as your eyes lock and your heart skips a beat. This is the last thing you were prepared for - standing face-to-face with your ex, Rafe Cameron. “No, no. There’s no way you and your dad are behind this shit.” You hiss, anger dripping from every word.
He seems to snap out of his daze, his eyes flaring in disbelief, “What are you talking about?” he snaps, “Are you and your pogue friends trying to weasel in on my deal right now? Is that what’s going on?”
“What are you talking about?” you retort, angrily. Your body seems to still be in shock as you try to wrap your mind around the sight of him standing before you.
“I wondered if your little reunion would cause sparks, you know.” a voice chuckles from another corner of the room. You and Rafe exchange one last, charged look at one another before fully turning to face the man. Panic surges through you as you hear Rafe mutter, “Who are you?”
A smirk spreads across the man's face as he points at his chest, “Me?” he asks, his tone mocking. Your eyes glance towards Rafe, nerves tightening, watching as he almost instinctively shuffles his body closer towards yours. “My name is Carlos Singh.” he says smoothly, shaking his finger at Rafe. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Cameron.” His gaze shifts to you, condescension in his eyes, “And Ms. y/l/n, I do apologize for the rough tactics in bringing you here.”
Rafe’s body tightens, his eyes sweeping over you. The tension between the three of you hangs thick as Singh lets the silence linger before speaking again, the tone of his voice taking on a false politeness.
“But please, come. Sit down.” he gestures to the table behind him. When neither you or Rafe make a move, he adds with exaggerated patience, “Come now, I don’t bite.”
Rafe sweeps his gaze over you once more, his eyes intense as they scan every inch of your body. Concern tightens his features and you realize with a start that he’s checking for any sign of injury. The realization sends something soft and unexpected through your body as his eyes reach yours again.
You offer a small, reassuring nod - enough for him to see that you’re okay. He seems to accept your unspoken message and you watch as the tension in his shoulders eases slightly, his expression softening at your response. With a subtle gesture, he finally moves towards the table, still glancing back to watch you closely. You notice the apprehension floating through his posture, but there’s an undertone of something else - weariness. You follow after him, realizing that although you hate to admit it, you and Rafe need to be on each other’s side right now.
“Rough tactics. What about me?” Rafe grumbles, his voice laced with frustration as he paces around the back of the room. “Yes, Mr. Cameron. False pretenses,” Singh says, pouring a drink into the glasses in front of him, “But the ends justify the means I’m afraid.”
He takes a few sips of one of the glasses, “Sit down.” You hear Rafe’s sigh of frustration before you both pull chairs out and finally take your seats. Singh watches you both, unphased by Rafe’s frustration as he sets a drink in front of you and another one in front of Rafe. “We have a lot to talk about.”
“Why are we here?” Your voice steady despite the tension suffocating the room.
Singh leans back, his expression unreadable. “Well Ms. y/l/n, Mr. Cameron. We share certain interests… objectives.” he says in a tone that’s almost too casual for the situation at hand.
Rafe’s body leans forward, his forearms resting on his thighs, “Is this not about the cross?”
Your gaze snaps towards Rafe as Singh’s finger points sharply in his direction, “It is. Tangentially, it is about the cross.” he pauses as his gaze shifts towards a painting on one of the far walls, his expression distant. “But it’s also about something much, much bigger than the cross by orders of magnitude,”
He exhales slowly, “The completion of a grand quest.” With his back towards you, Rafe’s gaze finds yours, eyes locking for a brief moment. A sense of reassurance washes over you as you realize his expression matches your puzzled one.
“You see,” Singh’s voice cuts through the silence, bringing your attention back to him. “The story goes that 450 years ago, a Spanish soldier came out of the Orinoco Basin with a few gold beads. And when they asked the Spanish soldier where the beads came from, the Spanish soldier replied he got them from a peaceful Indigenous tribe who lived in a city of gold.” he pauses, letting the weight of the words sink in, “El Dorado.”
He eyes the both of you before continuing on, “And for the next 450 years, people tried to find that gold, you know.” He walks over to a table, picking a small dagger up as the blade catches the light. “They tried… conquistadors, knights, captains of ships, tribes, entire nations.”
He turns to face you and Rafe, his eyes growing intense. “All fighting each other in a race for the end of the rainbow.” He begins pacing in front of you, the dagger now resting loosely in his hands. “Thousands of lives laid on the pyre of gold fever.”
Your glance at Rafe, noticing the subtle tension in his body as he grows irritated at Singh’s story. “And it falls to me, you know.” Singh stops pacing, his voice taking on a deeper tone. He leans forward, his gaze bouncing between the two of you with an intensity that borders on obsession, “It falls to me to complete the task.”
He pauses a moment before continuing, “To bring full circle a quest that has gone on for almost 500 years. Perhaps… perhaps the greatest quest in the history of the western hemisphere.”
Unease grows in your stomach as you realize the finality in his tone, the unmistakable certainty that he will stop at nothing to claim what he believes is his. You begin to panic and snap your gaze to study Rafe again. You find his eyes already on yours as his expression is tinged with annoyance, lips pursed in a tight line. He begins nodding slowly, as if he’s trying to process Singh’s words, but you know him - the tension in his shoulders speak volumes: he’s pissed. Before he can utter a word, Singh’s voice speaks up again.
“And you two,” he points the dagger between the two of you, chuckling softly, “you two are going to play a part in that.”
Dread pools in your stomach as the walls of the room feel as if they’re closing in on you, an impending sense of danger sparking through the room. You glance at Rafe again, hoping to find even an ounce of reassurance painted on his features, but all you see is frustration. He pulls his lips into his mouth, a move you’re familiar with, as he tries to maintain his temper.
“What about you, Ms. y/l/n?” Singh speaks, your eyes catching his again. “Are you interested in history?” He pulls out a chair next to you, settling into it.
You hesitate before speaking, your voice calm but guarded, “More of a future person.”
Before he can respond, Rafe’s groan passes his lips. “Yeah I didn’t listen to a word you said, okay? How much are you gonna keep philosophizing?”
Your skin prickles with unease at the sharp edge of Singh’s tone as he chuckles from beside you, “You are direct, aren’t you Mr. Cameron?”
The two men lock eyes, in a silent stand-off. The tension rises another notch before you decide to speak again, “What do you need from me?” you whisper.
Singh’s gaze refuses to waver from Rafe’s, his words slow and deliberate. “I’ve come to believe that you and your friends are in possession of something that can help me get what I want.”
The accusation settles with a thud and you observe the surprise flash through Rafe’s gaze, even though he fights to keep his expression neutral.
You swallow around the lump in your throat, “Which is?”
Singh’s gaze finally breaks Rafe’s, his attention shifting towards you. “An old manuscript. A diary, actually.” From the corner of your eyes, you feel Rafe’s gaze slide over your features, his eyes lingering with curiosity. There’s a small shift in his expression - like he’s trying to read you, but you refuse to break your stare from Singh’s.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Rafe says, his voice sharp, causing both you and Singh to look at him. You exhale an anxious breath, trying to steady yourself. “This is ridiculous. I don’t know anything about a diary.” You lie, forcing the words to sound natural as they leave your mouth.
Singh's gaze sharpens, his eyes narrowing as if he can read right through your facade. “But how else could you have learned that the cross was on the Royal Merchant?” he presses.
Your pulse quickens as you shake your head, trying to divert the conversation, “Look, I want to help you, but I can’t.”
“I was hoping you wouldn’t say that.” Singh’s tone rings with thinly veiled frustration.
You tense at his response, your fists clenching anxiously in your lap. Without warning, you feel a soft pressure against your leg. You freeze, your eyes darting downwards, catching Rafe’s leg pressed against your own. The unexpected contact brings a jolt of warmth through your body. When you glance back up at him, the tautness shows in his shoulders and his gaze is heavy on Singh. The tension in the air is palpable, but just for a moment, it feels as if you’re not facing this alone.
The feeling quickly retreats as Singh’s voice echoes through the room, his tone laced with menace. “Because unfortunately, I don’t believe you.” You swallow around the thickness of your throat, barely noticing the subtle motion of Rafe’s shoe tracing up and down your leg. The quiet gesture stirs something deep inside of you, a mix of comfort and tension, but you push it to the side.
“You and your friend here couldn’t have found the cross without it.” Singh continues, assessing you both.
“He’s not my friend.” You respond sharply, the words slipping out before you can stop them. A flicker of sorrow races through you as you feel the weight of Rafe’s leg leave your own, irritation flashing through his eyes.
You glance over at him, the apology right on your lips, ready to break free before Singh speaks up again, “We can’t all be friends, you know.”
The words hit hard and before you can process them, Rafe suddenly pushes back from his seat, “Look, this is ridiculous. Okay? I’m out.” he mutters, stepping back as if to walk out. “I don’t know anything about a diary, okay? So-”
But before he can finish, he’s shocked into silence as a gasp escapes your lips. You watch as a guard steps from the shadows, the barrel of his gun resting coldly against Rafe’s chest.
“Do I look like a fool to you, Mr. Cameron?” Singh’s voice raises sharply although you can’t tear your gaze away from the sight of Rafe standing motionless, his chest still pressed against the barrel.
Singh stands, his eyes a constant weight on Rafe. “Do I look like a fool to you?” he repeats, enunciating each word.
For a moment, everything feels suspended in time. Your body relaxes slightly as Rafe finally steps away from the gun, shrugging his shoulders defiantly.
“You have the cross.” Singh sighs, his tone accusing. “She and her friends had the cross at one point. So one of you has the diary.”
Rafe’s eyes find yours, concern lingering in his expression as he catches the sight of your tears threatening to spill over. It’s gone in a split second as he braces himself for Singh’s next words, “And if you really don’t know,” he continues, “then I suggest you convince your friend to tell me.”
Through your tears, your gaze remains locked on Rafe’s profile as you try to read the expression in his eyes.
“Once I have the diary, you’ll be free to leave. I must warn you though,” Singh pauses meaningfully, “I’m not a man of infinite patience.”
You stand, trembling slightly as he gestures with his hands to follow him back up the stairs and into the room you were in earlier. His words are a chilling promise: “You have one day.”
As you climb the stairs, you try to blink back the tears as the tension is taut through Rafe’s shoulders. When you reach the room, Singh’s smirk rings through his tone, “Go to the window for a little demonstration.” He pats Rafe on the shoulder aggressively before adding, “I think you’ll enjoy it, you know.”
He walks back down the hallway, the guards slamming the door shut on you both.
“Hey,” Rafe growls, the anger finally boiling over. “Hey!” he grunts as he pulls desperately at the handle, “You’re just done talking? Hey!”
The sound of the lock clicking causes you to realize how trapped you are. “It’s locked.” you mumble, the weight of the situation falling heavily onto your shoulders. Rafe whips his head to look at you, frustration flashing in his eyes.
You stalk towards the window, Rafe following closely behind. Pulling open the curtains, you hear the sound of a man's voice filter through the window. “Hey. I didn’t do nothing man.”
“Who is that guy?” Rafe mutters, more to himself than to you. His voice is closer to you than you expected, his warmth pressing into you as you stand side by side.
“I know him,” you answer, your voice tinged with confusion. “It’s Jimmy Portis.”
Rafe snaps towards you, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “He was trying to help me.” you whisper.
Your body tenses as you spot Singh moving outside, his eyes locked on yours. The smirk on his face is evident as he pulls a gun from his waistband.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Rafe mutters, his body instinctively moving closer to yours as you both flinch.
The sound of a gunshot splinters harshly through the air. You and Rafe gasp in unison as the sound echoes throughout the room, your eyes widening in terror. “No…” the word escapes from your lips as the tears finally push over the edge.
Rafe’s gaze is unwavering on your profile as he watches with intensity and a hint of desperation. “This diary,” Rafe whispers, his voice raw, “No bullshit. Please don’t bullshit me, okay?” he pleads, “Do you have it?”
Your silence that follows is thick with tension as the weight of his question settles through the room, your heart hammers in your chest. The internal battle tears at you - the need to protect your brother, and the harsh realization that Rafe may be the only one that can help you now.
“Baby?” Rafe’s voice cracks as the old nickname surges through your heart. The way he says it - pleading and full of concern, makes your decision that much harder.
“No.” The lie is out before you can second-guess yourself. You say it with fake certainty, praying he believes you, even as betrayal sinks through your body.
One look at his face tells you he doesn’t. The guarded expression flashes back over his features, irritation in his eyes as he pulls away from you and the window, attempting to process the lie.
rockstar!rafe cameron x actress!maybank!reader smau
COMPLETED
Growing up in totally different worlds, he'd never even heard her name. That is until she made a movie with his sister, leaving him begging for more. He couldn't help himself. She was like a siren, tugging the reigns, hopelessly dragging him under.
↪ chapter one
↪ chapter two
↪ chapter three
↪ chapter four
↪ chaper five
↪ chapter six
↪ chapter seven
↪ chapter eight
↪ chapter nine
↪ chapter ten
↪ chapter eleven
↪ chapter twelve
↪ chapter thirteen
↪ chapter fourteen
↪ chapter fifteen
i had so much fun reading the obx smau by @hunzzzzz and it inspired me to start a little something myself <3
