hihi! thank you all for so much love and support, it baffles me that anybody is interested in the stuff i write, and is willing to stick around for more. so grateful i get to share my writings so vulnerably and i can have others enjoy my creations. thank you from the bottom of my heart, i appreciate every single one of you! <3
that being said, please be advised that this post includes links to NSFW videos/pictures. please do not engage if you are a minor, thank you! all of these links are posted on twitter/X and will not work unless you have an account + are logged in. be mindful of the content you consume!
RAFE CAMERON
rafe fucking his cum back into you.
rafe & his gamer girlfriend.
his fav position so he can watch your tits bounce & where you both connect.
there’s nothing he loves more than making you a squirming mess.
poor guy couldn't even make it home before pouncing on you. :(
throat training his favourite girl. <3
the kinds of videos in his phone.
BSF!RAFE
eating you out & making you squirm after he accidentally yells at you.
clinging to anything for stability while rafe fucks you, and it just happens to be the teddy bear your ex-boyfriend gifted!
it's not wrong if he doesn't stick it in, right?
FRAT!RAFE
shoving your face against the mattress of his grungy dorm room.
quickie in his truck (the snapback stays on during sex).
STEPBRO!RAFE
rafe loves playing with your pussy almost as much as he loves actual sex.
testing the waters with his sweet little stepsis.
absolutely adores that tiny excuse of a skirt, gives him easy access. continued.
trying to keep you quiet while your family's home + size kink.
helping each other get off.
cumming against your clothed, soaking slit.
he catches you fucking yourself, so he'll met you halfway and spare you the work.
needs to have his hands on you whenever he feels like.
Reader visiting pogue!rafe and wearing the tiniest sundress to thank him for taking such a good care of her and for coming to midsummer. She would give him the sloppiest nastiest blowjob because she is so grateful
˙✧˖° 🐬🛼🎀 ⋆｡♡
it was one of those really hot days. the type where your clothes stick to you, even the hot breeze serves as no relief and you just wish to be left alone.
it was rafe’s day off from the building site, which he’s grateful for — as he’s not sure he’d be able to manage under such harsh conditions. the pogue lounges on his beat up couch infront of his shitty tv with a beer, legs spread — the rickety oscillating fan by his side offering no solace from the thick muggy air. just as he starts to find the energy to be irritated with this, there’s a knock at his door. the last thing he needs.
“jesus—what, i can’t have one god-damn day…” he mutters away to himself like a grumpy old man as he storms to the door, swinging it open. lo and behold, there you are in the tiniest, flimsiest sundress holding a crate of beer, looking a little clammy but excited to see him nonetheless.
“hi rafe!” you chime, totally unaffected.
“the hell are you doin’ all the way out here, s’not a nice part of the island, alright—”
“i come bearing gifts. may i come inside?” you ask so sweet and politely, leaving rafe only able to blink at you for a moment before you’re shuffling past him anyway without an answer, humming to yourself. “i know these ones are your favourite. they’re probably a little luke warm by now ‘cos i had to carry them here but if i stick them in the fridge they’ll probably be good to go in another ten minutes or so.” you chat away happily, walking right through to the small fridge on the ground in his kitchen, absentmindedly bending all the way over to shove the crate inside, giving rafe a real show of the delicate panties beneath your dress.
“really you — you walked all the way here for some beers, alright— okay.” he shakes his head in exasperation, turning and flopping back down onto the couch, closing his eyes for a moment at the unbearable heat. suddenly, you were right there.
“not just that.” your voice is softer now, closer. he can feel your breath on his face and it’s cold somehow— like you’d been sucking on an ice pop before coming in. the feeling isn’t unwelcome. his eyes flutter open, and it’s like someone had turned a switch inside of you because suddenly you’re all hungry eyes, wet mouth, hands that fidget for him.
“…no?” he drawls lazily, barely making an effort to shove an eyebrow up in questioning.
“wanted to thank you specially. for looking after me so well after midsummers. you’re a really good guy, rafe.” you’re so sweet it’s sickly and rafe shakes his head, averting his gaze with a lick of the lips and an eye roll.
“look i was just doing what anyone would have done alright — no need to make it a whole thing—”
“please… can i just show you how grateful i am? i’ve been practicing.” you practically groan, hands clenching into the fabric of his shirt.
rafe is starting to realise he has a real problem with saying no and standing by that— because soon he’s got you between his legs, drool leaking down onto his couch from the sloppy way you mouth at his cock, making out with the tip and taking breaks to ease him into your throat until there are tears on your cheeks. you seem as happy as anyone could be, little pleased moans and mewls leaving you periodically.
“the hell did you mean you’ve been practicing?” rafe asks between winces, a sharp pain in his abdomen at the thought of you getting in your blowjob rehearsals with another guy. he didn’t like that, and more importantly he didn’t like that he felt that way.
you reply to him, but it’s all garbled and spitty because his dick’s jammed half way down your throat so he pulls you off by the jaw, furrowing his brows curiously urging you to repeat yourself. you swallow, blinking wide wet eyes up at him.
“dildo.” you hum, before pushing his hand off and getting back to work. rafe relaxes back into the couch with an amused scoff.
“shit. your parents have got no clue, huh? no clue that they’ve got such a dirty little girl.” he spreads his legs a little wider, resting a hand on the back of your head.
you pull your mouth off to pull his cock to stand upright to access his balls, sucking and massaging them. “m’your dirty little girl too.” you respond in a shyer tone, almost like you were asking for permission. rafe blinks at you in zoned out analysis, wondering just what your father wasn’t providing you in order to make everything that came out of your mouth so wrong and freudian. rafe was just some construction working pogue — that’s how he saw it anyway. what it was about him that made you latch onto him so tightly and rely on him of all people for emotional validation and nurture was beyond him. you must’ve been a total masochist.
as you continue sucking he realises he didn’t so much mind the comment. everyone was ‘little’ to him at such a height so he’d let you have it.
“uh-huh. that right?” he entertains it, repositioning your mouth over his tip forcefully and feeding it back down your throat. “gonna let me in that throat now? huh? lemme cum baby? thought you were grateful. show me how thankful you are that i was nice to you, c’mon.” he pants, feet planted to the floor now as he lifts his hips — impatient. each little wet gag fuels him, and he chuckles breathlessly at the way you squeeze your eyes and fists closed to endure his manhandling.
“yeah not — not being very nice now am i? nah… s’what you get for messing with us nasty pogues. savages, baby.” he’s actively teasing you, making fun of the kook rhetoric as he pushes himself toward release. he knows those aren’t your views, but it’s satisfying to poke fun at you all the same.
prompt: telling rafe that he's your his best friend. (spoiler: you're dating him)
"you're my best friend, you know?" you whispered with a giddy voice, and rafe looked at you with raised eyebrows.
"shit, i'm your best friend?"
"yea' are you okay with that?" you squealed out, tugging at the overalls you have on. you're clutching a vanilla ice cream that he got for you as you sit on the swings. he looks like a total grump, glaring at the sun.
"aren't i your boyfriend? can't be your best friend and boyfriend at the same time," rafe squints staring at you with confusion, and you can't help but giggle. theres something about your hardworking boyfriend making friendship bracelets with you, and sending you love notes. but clearly he sees nothing amusing in this, staring at you with a tired look.
you groaned, "you're no fun rafe! c'mon you're my best friend, right?" you gave him another look, one that tells him to just agree with you, and in complete smitten rafe behavior he nods resigned.
he let out an exasperated sigh, as he wiped the ice cream off your face with a quick nudge. you bite your lip to stop yourself from beaming as he gave you a incredulous look before pushing your swing.
the screen door at barry’s place slams behind you before you get a chance to knock.
“well damn, if it isn’t my favorite delivery girl..” he grins, already halfway across the room, keys in hand and energy buzzing like he’s late for something, which knowing him— he probably is. his place smells like smoke and cheap cologne, music low in the background, some old r&b song humming through the walls. he tosses a small wrapped package onto the table, then points at it without even looking.
“listen, when you see rafe, give him this. don’t open it. alright princess?” he orders, suddenly serious. eyes flicking up to meet yours. “i mean it.”
“wasn’t planning on it.” you raise a brow.
he nods. “good. i gotta run outta town for a bit, you know.. business stuff. you’re doing me a favor here. i’ll make sure to pay you back someday.” he flashes that crooked smile. “oh and, tell rafe he owes me again.”
“when does he not..” you smirk, grabbing the package and tucking it into your tote bag. barry laughs at that heading for the door. “yeah well tell him to not act stupid. he takes you serious.”
your place is too quiet. parent’s gone to work. you drop your bag by the door and kick off your shoes. flopping your back onto your bed and fixing your top that rolled up. music playing from your cd player— fleetwood mac, angel. your eyes are staring at the ceiling as you pick up your bear laying beside you. a little lopsided, worn out with one eye you had to stitch back on after your dog ripped it out.
a knock breaks the silence. you roll on your side and glance toward the window. another knock, sharper this time. “yeah,yeah” you mumble. pushing yourself up and fixing your skirt. when you open it, there he is. your best friend rafe.
his hair is messy, and he’s wearing a flannel over a grey shirt. his eyes scan your face quickly before allowing himself to walk in, without even saying anything. “well you seem happy to see me.” you mutter. “sorry, did you get it?” no hello. typical rafe. you step close the door behind you. “nice to see you too.. and yes i did. he said you owe him and to not forget this time. k?”
“yeah okay, thanks. i owe you” seems like everyone does today. you flash him a shy smile. what are ways rafe can pay you back? no. don’t think about your friend that way. you shake your head. shake your silly thoughts away.
you grab your bag and pull out the package, tossing it lightly toward him. he catches it easy like you’re playing hot potato.
“you wanna smoke?” he asks.
now you’re both sitting on your bed, window cracked open, the night air slipping in between the slow curls of smoke. rafe leans back against the wall, head tilted, eyes half lidded. “so you’ve never done this before?” he asks. “nope.. i’m scared i’ll get a hole on my neck.” he laughs.
rafe turns the blunt between his fingers for a second, watching the ember glow, then dim. his eyes flick up to you, making sure you seem comfortable. “you sure?” he asks, quieter this time. not teasing but genuinely checking on you.
you shrug, trying to play it off even though your fingers fidget with the wrinkles on your skirt. “yeah. i’m sure.” “i just want you to be comfortable and not pressured.” he sounds so worried about you. “rafe. i have no experience with anything i think its time i try new things. trust me im sure.” he shifts closer, to the edge of your bed. “alright… just take it slow.” he presses it into your fingers, not letting go right away. his thumb brushes lightly against yours and you swear your stomach did a flip. “don’t rush it.” he adds.
he laughs, shaking his head. “thats not how it works.” you narrow your eyes at him. “how would i know?” “you wouldn’t.” he says, softer now, like he actually realizes this is your first time doing this. there's a small pause before he lifts it again, then hesitates for a second. deciding something. “you don’t have to,” he adds, quieter. “seriously.”
you glance at him, then back at it, then shrug a little. “i mean.. i already said yes. and i’ve been curious for some time” rafe studies your face, making sure you’re not just saying it to impress. when he doesn’t see any hesitation, he nods. “okay. don’t over think it” he shifts closer, you can feel the warmth of him beside you, his fingers brush yours while the other rubs your back sending chills down your body and making your cheeks burn. “small,” he says. “you don’t gotta prove anything.” you let out a quiet breath, trying to act like you’re not nervous.
for a second, nothing happens. then you pull back a little too fast, coughing lightly, eyes watering as you turn away. rafe huffs a laugh, a surprised laugh.
“yeah.. that’s about right.” he mutters, reaching over to take it from you before you completely lose it. you glare at him through the cough. “shut up.”
“i didn’t say anything.”
“you laughed.”
“a little..”
you nudge his arm, still blinking the sting out of your eyes. a smile smile creeping its way through. he notices. for a second—or more— he just looks at you. “you good?” he asks. “yeah, i’m glad i did it with you.”
he leans back against the wall a gain, taking another slow drag.
“see? no hole in your neck.” he teases and you roll your eyes, laughing.
summary: your parents hired rafe to fix some things around the house, but one look at you and he has a new plan.
cw: smut, mdni!! cheating(reader is engaged), praise, unprotected piv, creampie, outside sex
wc: 1.8k
a/n: pogue!rafe ohhhh i need him in my bed rn!! might make this a series, hmm
rafe knew that working for a family like yours was good money. he knew he shouldn't mess it up. but, hell, your pretty eyes and plump lips were really tempting him. he was trying to focus, he was. trying to be a good handyman and fix the brick in the garden like he was supposed to do, but you?
well, you weren't helping one bit.
he could feel your eyes on him from your place on the back porch. your stare hotter than the sun beating down on him. he wasn't quite sure why you were staring, everyone knew you were engaged to kook royalty. but, rafe didn't care. not really. not when you were staring at him, that pretty pink skirt flowing in the breeze just enough to give him a glimpse of something he couldn't have.
something he shouldn't want.
but, hell, who was he if not a trouble maker?
it took him a couple seconds to realize you were gone, as he was trying to focus on the task at hand. but when he did, his head shot up(not-so-discreetly), and he glanced around, only to find you making your way to him, a glass in your hand.
"figured you were thirsty," you said, all smooth and sweet and rafe's jeans got a little bit tighter. you smiled, big pearly whites flashing and rosy lips conforming just right. rafe wondered what they'd look like on his cock.
he tried to let the image go.
instead, he cleared his throat, taking the glass from you and gulping down the water. his adam's apple bobbed, and he didn't miss the way you stared at him. "thanks, sweetheart," he replied once he was finished, handing you back the glass.
"you can take a break, you know? parents won't be back for hours, you have time."
rafe almost scoffed. almost. was she really suggesting that? rafe wondered if she knew where a guy like his mind went when she said sweet things like that. he chuckled, dipping his head. "princess, i think you should be careful with your words. sweet little thing like you's got no idea what she could get herself into."
you smiled, shrugging. "maybe i wanna find out."
and that was it. soon, rafe had you pinned against the wall of your patio, lips on yours and hands roaming your body. "so fuckin' filthy," he mumbled into your lips, nipping at your bottom one. "fiancé not satisfying you? huh, sweet girl?"
thrill was running through your veins. sure, your backyard was blocked off from the main road, but it was still outdoors, and there was still a chance of being caught. you whimpered into his lips, legs spreading so he could slip his thigh in between them.
rafe chuckled, yanking your head to the side to press sloppy kisses to your neck. "fuck, i can feel how wet you are through your panties. this really turns you on, hm? knowing you're about to get fucked by a pogue."
you just moaned in response, and rafe grabbed your hips, forcing you to grind against his thigh as he pulled back just enough to look at you. "look at you, fuckin' pathetic." your eyes were already half-lidded, hands on his shoulders to stabilize yourself. he forced you to grind harder, a shaky moan escaping your mouth.
"mphm, fuck," you breathed, letting him move your hips. the friction was delicious, but it wasn't enough. "more," you whined, nails digging into his shoulders.
rafe's lips collided with yours again, and he moved his thigh out of the way, slipping his fingers past your panties. he pressed a rough pad to your clit, rubbing slow circles against the swollen nub. you bit your lip to try and contain some of the nasty noises coming from your mouth.
rafe tsk'd, hand coming up to brush the hair off your chest. "c'mon, pretty girl, let me hear you." his voice was low and seductive as he spoke, his fingers untying your top with one hand as the other continued rubbing circles on your clit.
"r-rafe, we're outside," you whimpered, but couldn't help the small moan that escaped your lips when he finally got all the fabric out of the way, his fingers pinching your nipple.
"mhm," rafe hummed, leaning in and kissing you deeply. "let 'em all know i fuck you better than that kook of yours."
your eyes closed as rafe sped up his assault on your clit, his fingers switching between nipples every so often until you were a whining, withering mess under him. but you still weren't being loud and that pissed him off.
suddenly, he pulled away, leaving you panting and aching for so much more. your top had bunched up at your stomach, meeting ways with your bunched up skirt. your tits were on full display, heaving as you panted, and your soaked panties were barely concealing your pussy.
rafe's finger dragged over your hip, his dark eyes on yours. "gotta be a good girl f'me and make some noise. no point in fuckin' you otherwise."
you swallowed, sucking in a harsh breath. you knew this was wrong, that this was dangerous, even. you couldn't just have the possibility of anybody hearing you have sex. but, fuck, the way he was looking at you. the missed feeling of his fingers on your pussy and nipples—it was too much.
so you nodded.
"hm? you gonna be good?"
"y-yes, i'll be good."
rafe smirked, bringing his lips to yours in a hungry kiss as he hoisted you up into his arms. he moved to your patio couch, sitting on it with you in his lap. he ground his hips up into yours as you two made out, letting you feel just how hard he was. "you ever rode somebody 'fore, sweetheart? or are you too nice for all that?"
you shook your head, slightly ashamed. he chuckled, lifting your chin up. "'s alright, baby. gotta get you used to me first, anyway. next time."
the implication that there would be a next time had your pussy pulsating. something about him made you want to throw away all the rules.
your heart was beating out of your chest as rafe moved you back slightly, enough to undo his belt and jeans, sliding them and his boxers down enough to reveal his cock. you swallowed at the size. now you understood why he said you had to get used to him.
rafe, silently, moved you so that you were laying on your back on the couch, him on top of you. "don't you worry, darlin', i'll take it nice an' slow."
you nodded, chest heaving as you stared at him. he kissed you, a little softer than earlier but still rough. without warning, his hands were on the hem of your panties, yanking them down and tossing them on the patio somewhere. you couldn't be bothered in that moment to care.
"gonna make you feel so good, m'kay? promise, sweet girl." he kissed you again, and again, before his tip was pressing against your soaked entrance and you were gasping out as he slipped in slightly.
your pussy clenched, legs spreading open just a little more. rafe chuckled, digging his head in your neck. he nipped and sucked, pushing in just a little more. "o-oh," you moaned, fingers tugging at the back of his shirt.
"mhm, just feel it. 's it, baby. let me fill you up nice an' full."
he continued light nibbling on your neck, one hand holding your thigh up and the other moving down to softly rub your clit. "fuck, so tight."
you whimpered as he pushed in a little more, feeling like you'd never been this full before. you hadn't. this pleasure was new, almost unbearable. "rafe," you whined, gripping his hair.
he smirked against your neck. "feel good, pretty girl?"
you nodded, moaning a little louder than you meant to as he pushed in more, hitting that spongey spot inside of you. "oh, fuck!"
rafe bit at your neck softly, pushing the rest of the way, before stilling, letting you adjust. "feel that? feel how full you are? fuck, you're so tight, baby girl. so fucking perfect. pussy was made for me, huh?"
rafe grabbed your legs, which were a little shaky from the pressure, and hooked them over his hips, before he started slowly moving, rolling his hips before pulling out halfway and then pushing back in. he groaned, and you let out a moan at the sensation.
you could feel every ridge and vein as they rubbed against your gummy walls, and it felt like nothing else ever had. "fuck, this pussy's so good," rafe groaned, eyes closing for a second as he got lost in the feeling.
his pace sped up, until he was practically fucking into you with no mercy. but it felt too good for you to care. it felt too amazing for you to notice how loud you were being. not that rafe cared. rafe loved it. the thrill of knowing he could be caught was too good.
your pussy felt too amazing. he never wanted to pull out.
you dragged your nails down his covered back, eyes rolling back as your body trembled. "fuck! o-oh, god, rafe, 'm close," you whimpered, legs shaking from their places on his hips.
rafe chuckled, slamming in harder, causing you to cry out. "yeah? gonna come f'me, sweetheart?"
you nodded, feeling your toes curl as your head spun. fuck, you'd never been this close this fast in your life, and you certainly hadn't felt this good over it ever. rafe moved his hand down, rubbing fast, tight circles over your clit with his thumb, causing you to gasp, back arching.
"wanna feel this pussy come around my cock," he murmured into your neck, biting down slightly.
you cried out, body jerking as your orgasm finally washed over you. it felt like it went on forever, and maybe that was because rafe was still fucking into you, chasing his own release, overstimulating you.
"c-can't take it. 's too much!" you whined, but rafe just groaned.
"just a little more, baby. be a good girl for me, m'kay?" he mumbled, his thrusts getting a little hectic. your eyes filled with tears as the pleasure started to overwhelm you, and your legs were trying to close, but rafe just held them open.
"feels too good!" you moaned, eyes rolling back. about that time, rafe's hips stuttered, and he moaned into your neck, his cock twitching as he spilled into you without warning, causing you to gasp out a moan, your body going warm. rafe forced a few more lazy thrusts out, trying to work through his orgasm, before he collapsed on top of you.
he panted, slowly pulling out. he glanced down, watching as his cum slowly spilled out of you with each pulse of your pussy. "look at that pretty mess," he murmured, hand rubbing your tit roughly. "you did so good f'me, sweet girl. gonna have to fuck this pussy again sometime, yeah?"
all you could do was nod, even if it was a bad idea, and him coming in you had possible consequences you weren't ready for. it felt too good to be this reckless.
Rafe didn’t know how to describe it, but it was like… he was breathing easier. Like he wasn’t always waiting for the other shoe to drop.
He couldn’t believe you’d chosen him, a stray. He’d been taking it slow with you.
It was mid-afternoon, and you were by the lake this time, sitting on the weathered dock, feet dangling off the edge, again. He had his fishing rod in hand, showing you how to cast it properly. The sun hung low in the sky, painting everything in this soft, golden light that made your hair glow like some kind of halo. He had to keep glancing away because it messed with his head. A literal angel.
“You gotta flick your wrist, not your whole arm,” he explained, demonstrating it for you. “Like this.” He flicked the rod smoothly, sending the line out into the water with barely a ripple.
You gave him a look, like you were tired of his shit but then copied his motion. Your line barely made it halfway to where his was, and you huffed, frustrated. He laughed quietly, shaking his head.
“You’re tryin’ too hard,” he said, standing up to move behind you. “Here, lemme help.”
He hesitated for a second, then stepped closer, wrapping his arms around your from behind, guiding your hands to hold the rod correctly. He could feel your body tense for a second before you relaxed into him, your back against his chest. His breath hitched, but he focused on showing you what to do, trying to ignore the way his heart raced from being this close to you. He was whipped.
“Now, just flick it—gentle, like you’re barely trying” He guided your hands again, and this time, the line shot out farther into the water, just like his.
You grinned, looking over your shoulder at him, and he realized how close your faces were. Too close. His breath caught, but he didn’t move, didn’t pull away. He never did.
“See?” he muttered, “Told ya, you got it.”
“Only ‘cause you helped,” you said, voice was all soft and sweet, like honey.
Your eyes didn’t leave his, and he couldn’t look away if he tried. He could feel the warmth of you, smell the faint scent of your shampoo mixed with the lake air. He should’ve moved. He should’ve stepped back, given you space.
But he didn’t.
“Is this why you wanted to teach me how to fish? So you could feel me up?”
Rafe’s face flushed red, heat creeping up his neck and into his cheeks.
“N-no,” he stammered, but it sounded lame even to him. He stepped back, giving you space like he was supposed to, scratching the back of his neck, trying to play it off like he wasn’t burning up inside. “I was just… y’know, teaching’ you how to cast. Not my fault if you can’t get it right on your own.”
You laughed, that soft, carefree sound that always messed him up, like you didn’t know you were punching way out of his league. You turned back to face the water, flicking the rod out again, and this time, it went far—farther than you expected, your excitement obvious as you glanced back at him.
“Look at that!” you said, grinning like you’d just won something. “I’m getting better.”
He laughed, “Told ya you could do it.”
He shouldn’t be there, shouldn’t be that close to you, shouldn’t want you the way he did. But there you were, fishing with him like it was normal. He sat back down beside you on the dock, pulling his cap lower over his eyes, trying to cool down and act like his heart wasn’t still racing.
Rafe was feeling like his stomach was doing flips, and not the good kind. He wasn’t the type to get all worked up over stuff like this, but here he was, his hands sweaty, his heart racing like he just ran five miles.
You were sitting across from him now, looking all laid back and pretty, messing with that dumb bracelet he’d seen you wear a hundred times before, and he couldn’t stop thinking about what he was about to ask you.
You two had been sort of together, what, two months now? He didn’t know how to explain it, but every time he saw you, it was like a part of him just... calmed down. Like all the chaos in his head got a little quieter when you were around. And that scared the hell out of him.
He wasn’t the kinda guy to catch feelings. Hell, he’d spent most of his life trying to not feel stuff. It was easier that way. Safer. But there he was, that night, two months ago, sitting’ next to you on that fancy couch in your parents' house, kissing the living hell out of you. He couldn’t get you out of his system even if he tried.
And then he kissed you again, every day for that matter, for the next couple of months. Because, how could he not? You were perfect. His absolute dream girl.
He shouldn’t want this so bad. Shouldn’t be sitting there trying to memorize the way you looked in that moment. And yet, here he was, listing off your favorite things in his head like it was his new obsession.
He thought about the way you’d light up when you’d talk about books. Not just any books, though. You had this thing for old, worn-out paperbacks, the ones that looked like they’d been through it. You said they felt like they had history, like every dog-eared page told its own story.
Then there were your playlists. He still couldn’t figure them out. You’d go from old-school classics like Fleetwood Mac or The Rolling Stones, then switch it up with some indie band no one had ever heard of. But it all fit you somehow—just a little bit all over the place, in the best way possible.
And sunsets. God, you could never resist a good sunset. Every time the sky turned even a hint of pink or gold, you were there, snapping pictures on your phone like it was your personal little piece of magic.
Rafe couldn’t explain it, but every time you were around, everything just felt easier. Like the mess in his head quieted down. And that scared him because it wasn’t supposed to be like that. Not for him.
It was like his brain had its own playlist, except instead of music, it was a loop of all the things you liked. It kinda freaked him out, how much space you were taking up in there. You didn’t even know, did you? How you had him twisted up like this. How you made the world around him feel like it wasn’t gonna fall apart any second. He wasn’t used to that.
He watched you flick the rod out again, more confident this time, and he couldn’t help but admire how determined you were. That’s another thing he loved—how you never gave up on stuff. You’d try something a hundred times until you got it right. Like the way you insisted on learning how to skate last month, even though you kept falling. You’d get back up every time, laughing like it didn’t even faze you. He liked that about you—how nothing seemed to scare you.
And then there was your laugh. That one killed him every time. It wasn’t just the sound of it; it was the way your whole face lit up when you laughed, like the world didn’t have a single problem. Like, for those few seconds, nothing could touch you.
He realized he’d been staring at you for way too long when you looked over at him, raising an eyebrow.
“What?” you asked, the corner of your mouth twitching into a little smirk.
Rafe blinked, shaking his head like he could shake the thoughts loose. “Nothin’”, he mumbled, feeling his face heat up again.
Smooth, real smooth, he thought.
And then there was the way you loved the water.
Always dragging him down to the lake or the beach, talking about how the sound of waves crashing made everything else seem far away.
He never told you this, but he thought it was funny how you loved the water so much but were terrified of deep water.
You’d cling to him when you were in over your head, and yeah, he liked that way more than he probably should’ve.
He kept running through all the little things, trying to figure out when it happened—when he started catching feelings for you. When you shoved the food in his face? Offered him a warm shower and a bed? Was it when you forced him to watch that old movie, the one where you kept quoting all the lines before they happened?
“Stop ogling me.”
Rafe's heart did that weird thing again, that stuttering, fluttering mess in his chest as you grinned at him, tossing that line out like you weren’t absolutely wrecking him from the inside.
He tried to act like he hadn’t been caught staring.
Again.
"Wasn't ogling," he muttered, feeling his face heat up. He shoved his hands in his pockets, looking out over the water like he wasn’t completely whipped. "Just thinkin’."
You shot him a side-eye, clearly not buying it. “Yeah? About what?”
You, he thought. Always you.
“Just... life," he mumbled.
What was he supposed to say? That he’d been sitting here mentally cataloging all your favorite things like some lovesick idiot? That every time you smiled at him, it felt like the ground wasn’t so shaky anymore? He couldn’t just say that.
But he was starting to feel like he had to. Like it was gonna burst out of him if he didn’t tell you soon. You’d been messing with his head for months now—it was driving him insane.
"Y’know," he started, swallowing hard, not even sure how to say it, "I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”
You glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah? And what’s that?"
He scratched the back of his neck, feeling way too hot under that cool evening air. His voice came out rougher than he meant. "You. Us."
You froze for a second, that playful smile slipping just a little, but you didn’t say anything. You just waited. Always so patient just for him.
Rafe let out a shaky breath, rubbing the back of his neck like it could distract him from the fact that his heart was about to pound out of his chest.
"I—I like you, okay? I like you a lot." He looked down at his boots, then back at you, eyes searching your face for any sign of what you were thinking. "I know I’m not the best with... y’know, words and feelings and all that, but you—you’re different."
He stepped closer, the dock creaking under his boots, and he reached out, gently taking your hand. "You make all the noise in my head stop. I don’t know how to explain it, but when I’m with you... it’s just easier. Everything’s easier."
You blinked, your eyes wide, like you weren’t expecting that.
"M’ not good at this stuff," Rafe continued, his voice soft now, almost nervous. "But I wanna be better. For you. I wanna be the guy who makes you feel good, who makes you happy."
He hesitated, feeling like he was about to jump off a cliff. But he had to ask. He had to know.
"Will you—" he cleared his throat, his grip tightening just slightly on your hand. "Will you be my girlfriend?"
He wasn’t used to feeling vulnerable like this, like he was putting his heart out there and hoping you wouldn’t crush it. But for once, he didn’t care. He needed you to know how he felt, even if he was rough around the edges and still figuring it all out.
You looked at him for what felt like forever, and then, slowly, a soft smile tugged at the corners of your lips.
You threw yourself at him, jumping into his arms with this burst of energy that caught him completely off guard. He stumbled back a step, barely catching you, his arms wrapping around your waist as you clung to him. Your face was buried in his neck, and that’s when he felt it—the dampness.
Hold on. Were you crying?
“Woah, baby,” he stammered, holding you tighter, but his heart started racing for a whole different reason now. “Did I—did I make you cry? Shit, did I mess this up already? I swear, I didn’t mean to freak you out or nothin’. I just—” He cut himself off, his words coming out fast and panicked. “I fuck up everything, don’t I?”
You pulled back just enough for him to see your face, and there were tears streaming down your cheeks, but you were smiling. Laughing, even, like he was being ridiculous, which only confused him more.
“No, no, oh my god,” you said, wiping at your cheeks, sniffling through your smile. “It’s—it’s happy tears, you dumbass.”
Rafe blinked, his brain not quite catching up with what you said. “Happy tears?” He looked at you like you’d just told him the sky was purple. “You’re cryin’ ‘cause you’re happy?”
You nodded, laughing as you brushed the tears away. “Yes, Rafe. I’m crying ‘cause I’m happy.”
Relief washed over him like a wave, and he let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.
“Oh.” He paused, then broke into this shy, crooked grin. “Okay. Good. ‘Cause for a second, I thought I messed up.”
You laughed again, your arms still around his neck as you leaned in closer.
“You didn’t mess up, not even a little.” Your voice was softer now, and you looked at him like he hung the moon or something. “You made me really, really happy.”
He never thought he’d be the guy to make someone happy, let alone you. He lifted his hand, gently brushing a thumb across your cheek, wiping away the last of your tears.
“Didn’t know I had it in me,” he muttered, his voice low, almost shy.
“Well, you do,” you whispered, and before he could overthink it, you leaned in and kissed him—soft and sweet.
When you pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and he couldn’t help but smile. “I guess I’ll just have to make you cry like this more often, huh?”
You rolled your eyes, but there was no denying the way you looked at him, like he was more than just some rough-around-the-edges Pogue. His grin didn’t leave his face as he watched you wipe at the last of your happy tears, still a little stunned that he of all people had managed to make you feel like that.
You were looking at him, a teasing glint in your eyes, but before you could even start talking again, he pulled you in closer, pressing a quick kiss to your lips.
“Rafe,” you giggled, your voice muffled against his mouth. “Let me—”
“Nope,” he mumbled, cutting you off with another kiss, this one lingering a little longer. His hands slid down to your waist, pulling you even closer, and you felt his smile against your lips. “Not done kissin’ you yet.”
You let out a breathy laugh, trying to speak between the kisses. “Rafe, seriously—”
But he wasn’t having it. He kissed you again, deeper this time, his lips soft but insistent, and you practically melted into him.
“Don’t care,” he muttered, his voice low and raspy against your mouth. “Got a lot of kissin’ to make up for.”
You tried to playfully shove him, but he just grinned and kissed you harder, not giving you a chance to get another word in. Every time you tried to pull back to say something, he’d tilt his head, his lips capturing yours before you could even think.
“You,” you tried again, your voice breathless between the stolen kisses, but he just chuckled, his hand slipping into your hair, tilting your head back slightly so he could kiss you deeper, “Kiss me every day.”
“Uh-uh,” he muttered, his lips trailing down to your jaw, making your head spin. “I don’t care.”
Your hands grabbed onto his shoulders, your breath hitching as he kissed along your neck.
“You’re impossible,” you whispered, but your voice was softer now, less of a protest and more like you were completely caught up in the moment.
He pulled back just an inch, looking down at you with that lazy, crooked grin that made your heart skip a beat. “Yeah, but you like me anyway,” he teased, his forehead resting against yours.
You rolled your eyes, but there was no hiding the smile tugging at your lips.
“Maybe,” you said, pretending to play it cool. “But you still won’t let me talk.”
Rafe brushed his thumb along your jaw, his eyes tracing over your face like he couldn’t quite believe you were real.
“Sorry, baby,” he drawled, clearly not sorry at all. “But I’m tryin’ to make up for lost time here.”
When he finally pulled back, just enough to look at you again, his eyes were softer, more serious this time. “I mean it though,” he murmured, his voice low. “I’m real glad you’re mine.”
You smiled up at him, your heart swelling. “I’m glad too, Rafe,” you whispered, your fingers brushing against the back of his neck.
He grinned, leaning down to kiss you again, but this time, you were ready. You pressed a hand to his chest, stopping him before his lips could reach yours. “Ah-ah,” you teased, a smirk on your face. “Not done talking yet.”
Rafe groaned, but the smile never left his face. “Fine, fine,” he muttered, his hands still resting on your waist. “Get your words out. I’ll give you, like, ten seconds.”
You laughed, rolling your eyes again. “You’re such a dumbass,” you said fondly, shaking your head.
“Yeah,” he agreed, leaning down just enough so his lips brushed against yours again, barely a whisper. “But I’m your dumbass now.”
“Hold on,” he nearly whined, pushing his forehead against yours with exaggerated impatience. “Does that mean you’ll accept the phone now? Actually, I was gonna say—since you’re so insistent on this whole ‘no phone’ thing—you should just take it.”
Rafe’s eyes widened in surprise. “Wait, you want me to take it? For real?”
You crossed your arms, giving him a look that said, "don’t push it." “Yeah, obviously.”
“But—"
You shrugged, trying to play it cool, but the truth was written all over your face. “Please? It would make me worry less.”
He stood there for a second, chewing on the inside of his cheek like he was still mulling it over, but then he let out a breath, stepping closer to you.
“Fine,” he said, his voice softer this time. “I’ll take it. But only ‘cause you asked so damn sweet.”
Taking the stupid phone meant accepting that you cared, that you wanted him in your life in more ways than just this. And while it scared him, it also made something bloom in his chest, something unfamiliar but good.
He found himself staring at the screen like it was some kind of foreign object.
“Now you have no excuse not to text me back,” you teased, nudging him gently with your shoulder.
His face softened as he glanced at you. “Guess I don’t.”
You gave him a playful shove, and he caught your wrist, pulling you close again before you could get too far. His arms wrapped around your waist, and he rested his chin on the top of your head, breathing you in.
For a moment, the world felt still. Peaceful.
But then, like a cruel twist of fate, he heard a voice—one that made his blood run cold and his heart sink. He turned his head, and there she was. His mom, if he could call her that. Her face was gaunt, lined with the weariness of someone who’d been through too much, but that didn’t make it any easier to see her.
“What the hell?” he muttered, more to himself than to you. He felt the protective instinct flare up, not just for himself but for you, too. He didn’t want her anywhere near you. Not now. Not ever.
She ruined everything she touched.
“I’ve been lookin’ everywhere for you,” she said, her voice cracking with a mix of desperation and anger. “I need to talk to you.”
His jaw tightened. “What do you want, mom?”
Her eyes softened for a split second before that familiar hardness came back. “Come back, okay? I didn’t mean to—”
“Come back?” he let out a breathy sarcastic laugh, “You serious?’ Nah, not after you kicked me out, not after all the shit I had to deal with. You got no right to come here and act like you care now.”
Her face twisted in pain, and for a moment, he saw the woman he used to know when he was a kid. But it was quickly gone. “You think you’re so much better than me, don’t you? You think you’ve got it all figured out?”
He didn’t want to scare you off.
“Aww hell,” Rafe muttered, rubbing the back of his neck like he was trying to keep the anger from takin' over. His hand tightened on your waist, like he needed to feel you there, grounding him. “I’m not doin' this with you. Not here. Not now.”
You stayed quiet, your fingers lightly brushing his arm, feeling the tension building' in him. He glanced at you, and for a second, you could see the rage contained in him, he was trying' to hold it back for your sake.
“Rafe, I didn’t have a choice. You don’t understand what it’s like—”
“I don’t understand?” he barked, his voice rough, like he was barely holding’ it together. “Nah, you don’t get it. You never did.” He took a step back, almost like he needed to put space between himself and her poison. “M’ gonna stand here and let you guilt-trip me. You threw me out like I was trash.”
She opened her mouth, but he cut her off before she could get another word in. “I got someone now. Someone who gives a damn 'bout me. And I’m not lettin’ you mess that up.”
His mom’s eyes flicked to you, and there was this flash of something’—jealousy, regret, maybe both.
She huffed, her shoulders dropping’. “I didn’t come here to fight with you, Rafe. I just... I need help. I don’t got nobody left.” Her voice cracked, and for a second, it almost sounded real.
But Rafe wasn’t buying it. He was done being manipulated. He was tired of her games, she was sick and she needed help, and if she didn’t want to be helped, there was nothing he could do for her.
“Yeah, well, I’m fresh outta help,” he said coldly, then turned back to you, his hand reaching for yours, like he was trying' to remind himself that he was better off now.
A familiar figure stepped out from behind her beated up car—her boyfriend, fucking Tony. His gut twisted the second he saw him with same smug look plastered across his face, strutted toward them like he owned the place.
"Well, ain't this a cute little reunion," Tony sneered, his eyes lingering on you for just a second too long. Rafe's grip on your hand tightened painfully, and you felt the muscles in his arm tense like he was ready to snap.
Tony’s attention slid back to him, but not before taking another slow look at you. “You picked yourself up a pretty little thing, huh?” He licked his lips, and Rafe's vision tunneled.
In that instant, everything around him went quiet.
The world could have been on fire, but all he could hear was the pounding of his own heart. The red-hot rage that he'd been holding in for so long, the anger he tried to keep locked down, was hanging on the edge. Every part of him screamed to beat the living shit out of him, to make him regret every second he spent breathing the same air as you.
“Watch your goddamn mouth,” Rafe growled through gritted teeth, like he was seconds away from losing control. “Look at her like that again, and I swear to fucking God, I’ll make sure you can’t look at anything ever again.”
You squeezed his hand, letting him know you were there, that he didn’t have to do this alone. His mom stood there, not standing up for either of them as usual, like she was waiting for him to change his mind, but when he didn’t, she shook her head and walked away, mumbling’ something' under her breath. She didn’t even put up a fight for him, how typical.
They’d probably run out of money to feed off.
Tony raised his hands, feigning innocence, but the smirk never left his face. “Easy there, kid. I’m just sayin’. No need to get all riled up.”
Rafe took a step forward, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. You could feel his emotions radiating off him in waves, his breath coming in short, sharp bursts as he fought to keep himself in check. You placed your hand on his chest, feeling his heart hammering beneath your fingers.
"Rafe, let it go," you whispered, trying to pull him back before things went too far. But it was like he couldn’t hear you anymore.
Tony chuckled darkly, clearly enjoying the way he was getting under his skin. “Guess the apple don’t fall too far from the tree, huh? Just like your momma—quick to anger, quick to screw things up. Look at you, following in her footsteps.”
“You have five seconds to walk away before I call the police,” You all but announced.
“You think you’re some big man now, huh?” Tony still taunted, ignoring you, his voice dripping with condescension. “Got a pretty girl on your arm, a fresh start, but you’re still the same angry little boy. You ain't gonna change—”
You didn’t even let him finish. Your hand was already in your pocket, pulling out your phone.
You weren’t going to let this escalate.
"Enough," you snapped firmly, holding up your phone so both Tony and Rafe could see it. You turned your back slightly to Rafe, giving him a moment to breathe and calm down as you dialed the number.
Tony’s cocky smirk dropped for a split second when he realized what you were doing. “Oh, what, calling for backup?” he sneered, but you could tell he wasn’t as confident as he had been.
“No, I’m calling the police. My dad’s a well-known attorney. He knows exactly how to deal with people like you.”
Rafe hadn't even realized what you were doing at first.
You didn’t take your eyes off Tony as you raised the phone to your ear. “Hi, yes, I’d like to report an incident,” you began, your tone professional, all business. “There’s a man harassing us, and he’s trespassing on private property. We’re at the docks, near the edge of Seabrook Avenue.”
Tony’s face turned a shade paler, his eyes darting between you and Rafe. “Whoa, whoa, wait a minute—let’s not do anything rash here,” he stammered, clearly realizing that the game had changed. The cocky attitude evaporated in the face of actual consequences, “I’ll leave.”
“Then start walking,” You threatened, phone still in your ear.
“All right, all right,” Tony muttered, “No need to get the cops involved. I’m leavin’.”
He cast one last glare at Rafe, then turned on his heel, stalking back toward the car.
You kept the phone to your ear, your voice low and professional as you continued speaking to the operator, making sure Tony didn’t have any second thoughts. His mom gave Rafe one last, but still said nothing. She followed Tony back to the car, and within moments, they were driving off, disappearing down the road.
As soon as they were out of sight, you let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding. You hung up the phone, turning back to Rafe, who was still standing there, staring at the empty spot where the car had been. His shoulders were tense, his jaw tight, but there was this brokenness in his eyes that made you want to bawl your eyes out.
You stepped closer, placing a gentle hand on his arm.
“Hey,” you whispered, your voice soft now, “They’re gone.”
Rafe let out a shaky breath and ran a hand through his hair, like he was trying' to shake off the whole encounter.
“Sorry 'bout that,” he muttered, his voice a little hoarse. “I didn’t mean for all that to happen. Not in front of you.”
You shook your head, “You don’t have to apologize. I’m here for you, remember?”
“Yeah, I remember,” he whispered, pulling you into his arms again, holding' you like you were the only good thing in his world. “Thanks for not running,” he muttered into your hair, “Most people would’ve bailed by now.”
You leaned into him, resting your head against his chest. “I’m not most people, Rafe.”
“Clearly. You’re better.”
You tilted your head up to look at him, and even with all the crap that had just gone down, you could see he was startin’ to relax a little. “You’re stuck with me now,” you teased lightly, tryin' to lift the mood. “No more excuses, remember?”
How did you have him under your spell in such a short amount of time? He felt delirious.
You pulled back just enough to look at him, your hand resting lightly on his chest, feeling his heartbeat still thudding hard beneath your fingers.
“Are you really okay?”
For a second, he didn’t answer, just stared down at you, like he was trying’ to figure out how much to let you in. His jaw tightened, and he looked away, running a hand through his hair again, like he was still trying’ to shake off the whole encounter with his mom.
“I-I don’t know,” he muttered finally, his voice low, rough. “I mean… I’m used to her being’ like this, y’know? It isn’t nothing new.” He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “But it still messes me up every time.”
You reached up, brushing a strand of hair out of his eyes, your fingers lingering on his cheek. “You don’t have to act like it’s not a big deal. It’s okay to not be okay.”
His eyes flicked back to yours, and for a moment, the walls he kept up so tight seemed to crack a little. He swallowed hard, his adam's apple bobbin’, like he was trying to push down all the emotions that were building up.
“I just… I hate that she still gets to me,” he admitted quietly, “After everything, I should be able to just… forget about her. But I can’t.”
You tightened your grip on his hand, letting him know you weren’t goin’ anywhere.
“You’re not weak for feelin’ like that,” you said gently. “She’s your mom, Rafe. It’s natural to want her to care, even after all she’s done.”
He closed his eyes for a second, takin' in your words, like he was tryin’ to let them sink in. When he opened them again, they were softer, more vulnerable than you’d ever seen them.
“I don’t know how you do it,” he said, his voice low, almost like he was talking’ more to himself than to you.
You felt him tense up under your touch, and it hit you—he was scared. He’d already cried once, already let you see that part of him that he usually kept locked up tight. Now, he was trying to pull it together, to show you he was strong, that he wasn’t some broken kid. But deep down, you knew he was still hurting, still carrying’ all that pain his mom dumped on him.
“Because I see you. Not the mess, not the baggage. Just you.”
He let out a shaky breath, his eyes flicking’ away again, like he couldn’t handle looking at you right now. “I don’t want you feeling’ like you gotta fix me or something’. I’m not a charity case.”
“You already know how I feel about you saying that.”
For a second, it looked like he might shut down again, like he was going to retreat behind that hard shell of his. But then, he sighed, shoulders sagging a little as he let some of that defensiveness go.
“I just don’t wanna be that guy,” he muttered, almost to himself. “The one who’s always leanin' on someone, cryin' about his problems. I already did that once, and…”
“And what?” you asked, “You think it made me see you any different?”
“You didn’t see me like some... weak-ass loser? Bein’ all emotional and shit?”
You shook your head slowly, holding his gaze. “No, Rafe. I saw someone who’s been through hell and still manages to keep going. That doesn’t make you weak. It makes you strong.”
He was quiet for a moment, takin’ in your words, his brow furrowing’ like he didn’t quite know what to do with them. Then, finally, he let out a long breath, his shoulders relaxing' just a little. “You make it so hard for me to push you away.”
You raised an unimpressed brow, “Would you like to push your girlfriend away? Because I can walk—"
“Kidding,” He protested, pulling you back the moment you attempt to move, “Jesus Christ. Can’t even make a joke. You’re not going anywhere,” he muttered, like a prayer “Not now. Not ever.”
You rolled your eyes, but the warmth in his words made you smile against his chest. “Oh yeah?” you teased. “That a promise?”
He chuckled, his hand stroking your back in slow, calming circles. “Damn right it is,” he whispered, his voice low, almost like a vow. “I don’t care what happens, I’m not letting you go. You’re stuck with me now.”
thinking about pogue!rafe scraping up a little extra money to buy his girl the dress she wants🥹
pairing: pogue!rafe x reader
cw: mentions of poverty, fluff
you stop in front of the window every time. same boutique. same dress.
it’s displayed on a mannequin with curled hair and pearl earrings. a pale yellow thing with little white flowers stitched into the hem. soft and delicate and too expensive for people like you and rafe. you always say you’re “just looking,” but your fingers linger on the glass, like maybe one day it’ll be yours.
rafe watches you every time. quiet. thoughtful.
and then he keeps walking.
but this time, you don’t see the way his jaw tightens. the way he looks down at his boots and does the math in his head. the way he quietly tells himself: next time she passes that window, it’s not gonna be there anymore. it’s gonna be in her hands.
rafe picks up extra shifts at the plant.
he starts selling scrap metal on the side, digging through rusted junk just to scrape together a few more dollars. he doesn’t tell you that he skipped dinner three nights in a row, or that his hands are so cracked from overtime they started bleeding under his gloves, or that he gave blood at the clinic just for the gift card they hand out.
all you know is that when he gets home, he’s exhausted.
you let him rest his head in your lap while you brush his hair out of his eyes.
“you’re working too hard, baby,” you whisper.
and he just hums. “don’t worry about it.”
one friday afternoon, he comes home with a brown paper bag under his arm.
there’s dirt on his jeans and grease on his cheek, but his eyes are bright. brighter than you’ve seen in weeks. he looks like a little boy holding a secret.
he holds the bag out to you, not saying a word.
you squint at it. “what’s this?”
“open it,” he says, that dimple showing in his cheek.
you roll your eyes, playful, and undo the string.
the fabric catches the light first. yellow. white flowers. soft as a whisper.
you freeze.
“rafe.”
he scratches the back of his neck, sheepish. “saw the way you always looked at it.”
you pull it out of the bag, hands trembling. it’s perfect. like it was made for you. the same one from the window. the exact one.
you blink fast. “how did you afford this?”
he shrugs, like it’s nothing. “just worked a little extra.”
“rafe-”
“i wanted you to have it.” his voice is quiet now. “you’ve never asked me for anything. and i know we don’t got much. but i saw how you looked at it and… i dunno. i just wanted to see you smile.”
you drop the dress on the couch and throw your arms around his neck, burying your face in his shoulder. he holds you so tight it almost hurts. but it’s the kind of hurt that makes you feel safe.
“you didn’t have to-”
“i wanted to,” he cuts in, pulling back just enough to look you in the eyes. “you think i’m bustin’ my ass every day just for lights and rent? nah. i’m doin’ it for you. so you can have nice things. so you don’t feel like you gotta press your hands to a window and wish.”
you kiss him, soft and slow, with every ounce of love you have in you.
and when you try the dress on, he stares like you’re holy.
“shit,” he whispers, voice rough. “you look like somethin’ out of a dream.”
later that night, he takes your picture in the golden hour light, standing barefoot on the porch in your new dress. he tucks the photo in his wallet like it’s worth more than gold.
because to him, it is.
you are.
an: oh how i love pogue!rafe 🤗🤗 he’d do anything for his girl (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)
