oh, how you loved raising rafe’s water bill as you stood in the hot stream of water for hours. it made your body and muscles loosen.
calm down.
perks of having a rich boyfriend, you guess. (not that you relied on him—you were a lady; you could handle your expenses very well, even if you would get your card robbed by rafe and your wallet replaced with his card—and maybe, well, a good spank afterward if you spent too much of your own.)
you could hear some shuffling here and there from outside the bathroom—probably rafe back from his golf date with his other lover.
fucking topper.
yes, that’s how you worded it before he left this morning. might as well be topper’s boyfriend if he’d rather play golf with him than spend time with you shopping online.
before you know it, he’s inside the bathroom, grumbling about the amount of steam.
“you like taking showers in hell in your private time?” he says with a frown on his pretty face as he starts undressing.
throwing him a glare, you open the shower door a little to see his face—and he can see your glare.
“fuck off, raphael.” pity? yes. overdramatic? yes. but let’s not talk about that.
before you could curse him some more in your head, he’s walking over, joining you in the shower. naked. god, you were never gonna get over how fucking good he looks.
he wraps both large arms around your waist tightly, his face right into your neck, prepping it with kisses—and you melt—
wait, no, you’re still mad.
“wrecked my wallet enough with your shopping today?” he mumbles into your neck while massaging your waist.
“extra today because you left, asshole.” you aggressively turn around, grabbing some shampoo, washing his head as he looks at you with this loving, dreamy gaze.
oh, how he loved his dramatic girl.
“i had to go, baby—topper’s dad had to talk to me about somethin” he sighs as you massage his head.
“awhh then i guess you didn’t get to spend a lot of time with your boyfriend, huh?” you say.
“c’mon, baby, you know it’s not like that. i can barely tolerate the fucker.” he quickly gets under the water, washing his head, then positions his face back into your neck, putting your arms around his neck.
when you don’t say anything, he knows the drill by now.
“i’m sorry, forgive me, my love. won’t happen again.” he pulls back, leaving tiny kisses on your chest and collarbone.
“fine. on your knees then.” you glare at him still. it’d take a whole lot of spoiling and kisses and quality time to get you to fully forgive him—and he knew that.
but for now, he just got on his knees with a shit-eating grin, putting all his loving where his mouth is, ’cause his sugar-talking wasn’t gonna work tonight.
Hi! Love your writing! If you’re up to a rage fic -
I would love an angst trade where he calls reader clingy and she distances herself!
are you busy?
SUMMARY . . rafe gets exactly what he asks for when he calls you clingy in front of everyone and discovers that silence is a lot harder to live with than he expected.
AUTHOR’S NOTE . . 2144 words ( before edit ) ; i did use she/her pronouns for this ; did a little obsession spin on this because i feel like he’d actually become the version he saw you as before his little outburst, so a bit of irony. if anyone wats me to fulfill any more requests let me know !!
MAIN MASTERLIST | PART TWO REQUEST
the party stretches across the cameron property, spilling from the back patio and out toward the water where expensive boats rock gently against their slips. music drifts through air while people move in clusters.
you’ve spent the better part of the evening weaving through those groups looking for rafe, catching glimpses of him only long enough for somebody else to pull him away again before you can get more than a few words out of him.
when you finally spot him near the edge of the deck, talking to topper and a handful of other people, relief settles in your chest before you can stop it.
maybe it’s pathetic. maybe it isn’t. all you know is that finding him feels like finally being able to exhale after spending the last hour searching.
you make your way over without thinking twice, squeezing between a couple of people until you’re standing beside him, your shoulder brushing lightly against his arm as you tilt your head up toward him with a smile.
“there you are,” you say. “i’ve been looking for you.”
for a moment, he doesn’t answer. his jaw flexes instead while he stares out toward the water. you've seen him stressed at things that had absolutely nothing to do with you before. because of that, it takes a second to realize the look he finally turns on you isn’t aimed through you or past you. it’s aimed directly at you.
“can you relax?” he asks sharply.
the smile fades from your face. “what?”
“you’ve been looking for me all night.”
confusion settles over you immediately because the accusation feels so strange. of course you’ve been looking for him. he’s your boyfriend. he literally picked you up so you could be here tonight.
the idea that he’d be annoyed by that doesn’t even occur to you until you catch the way topper’s attention shifts between the two of you, along with the subtle quieting of the conversation around him.
“i mean, i was just trying to find you,” you tell him.
rafe smiles and runs his palm across his buzzed head, looking every bit as frustrated as he has all evening. except now, instead of whatever has been bothering him all day, all of that frustration seems to have landed squarely on your shoulders.
“no, that’s exactly what i’m talking about,” he says, “you’re always trying to find me.”
your stomach sinks. people are listening now, you know they are.
you can see it in the way conversations nearby begin to slow, or the way somebody glances over their shoulder before quickly looking away.
somehow none of that feels as important as the expression on rafe’s face, though. while everyone else fades into the background, your attention stays fixed entirely on him, searching for some indication that he’s going to stop, realize what he’s saying, and walk it back.
instead, he keeps going.
“you’re always texting me, always asking where i am, always asking what i’m doing,” he says, throwing one hand out in exasperation. “you don’t have to be attached to me every second of the day.”
your entire body gives a small involuntary flinch, not because he moves toward you or because you’re scared of him, but because hearing something like that from the person whose opinion matters most to you feels a little like missing a step in the dark.
you stare at him. that’s all you can do.
suddenly you’re replaying every interaction you’ve had over the past few months, wondering which part of it annoyed him this much.
was it the good morning texts? the calls? asking if he’d made it home safely after disappearing for hours? was it showing up when he asked you to? sitting beside him when he was in a bad mood? listening to him complain about his father, his life, his problems, and everything else? none of it had ever felt excessive to you. it had just felt like a relationship.
for the first time since you’ve known him, rafe seems to realize how bad what he said actually sounded, but just for a split second. the anger on his face falters slightly, uncertainty slipping through the cracks, but by then the damage is already done.
there are too many people standing around, too many eyes watching, and too much pride keeping either of you from pretending the moment never happened.
the lump in your throat makes it difficult to speak. still, you manage.
“okay.” the word comes out quiet enough that he almost doesn’t hear it. you don’t argue or try to defend yourself.
you simply nod once, forcing yourself to hold his gaze for another second before looking away, and somehow that hurts him far more than any argument probably would have. because for the first time all night, you’re not trying to reach him anymore.
the drive home that night is quieter than rafe expected, not because of what happened earlier. if anything, he almost wishes you were arguing back to him. arguments are familiar territory. he knows how to handle yelling and angry words and people fighting back.
what he doesn’t know how to handle is silence. after your small, quiet okay at the party, you never bring it up again.
you don’t ask him why he said it. you don’t just tell him he embarrassed you. you don’t even demand an apology or make him explain himself. you simply retreat into yourself, staring out the passenger window. a few times he glances over, almost expecting you to say something, but you never do.
eventually his grip tightens around the steering wheel as irritation replaces the guilt. if you’re upset, then be upset. if you’re angry, then say something. instead, you just sit there, and by the time he drops you off, he’s convinced himself the entire thing wasn’t nearly as bad as it felt.
the next morning feels strangely peaceful.
his phone isn’t lighting up every few hours. there isn’t a text waiting for him when he wakes up or a notification asking if he slept well, if he’s busy today, or if he wants to do something later.
at first, he barely notices. if anything, a part of him feels relieved.
isn't this what he wanted? space? room to breathe?
for the first couple of days, that’s exactly how he frames it in his head. he spends his time doing whatever he wants, going wherever he wants, and never once has to answer a question about where he’s been. every now and then he catches himself expecting a text to come through, but when it doesn’t, he simply tosses his phone aside and moves on.
it isn’t until the third day that the silence starts feeling less like freedom and more like something missing, because it isn’t just the texts. it’s everything.
it’s the fact that you don’t stop by tannyhill after being nearby, or that he doesn’t hear your name from rose asking if you’re coming over, or ward wondering if you’re joining them for dinner.
somehow you’d become woven into the routine of his life so gradually that he never noticed it happening, and now every missing piece sticks out.
he keeps expecting things to go back to normal on their own, and keeps expecting you to call first like you always do. he just keeps expecting you to show up, but each day passes exactly like the one before it.
then a week goes by. by that point, he’s checking his phone more than he’d ever admit out loud.
not texting you. he’s not that desperate. at least that’s what he tells himself. he’s just looking, just seeing if maybe you posted something, or if maybe you called while he wasn’t paying attention.
just seeing if maybe—
nothing.
which is why your name slips out so casually one afternoon that even he doesn’t realize he’s asking about you until it’s too late.
he’s sitting with topper and kelce outside the country club, all three of them halfway through a conversation that started about boats and somehow turned into making fun of one of the kook guys they know. laughter circles the table, and for a few minutes rafe almost forgets about the irritating little knot that’s been sitting in his chest all week.
then he reaches for his drink and says, “where’s y/n been?”
the laughter dies immediately. kelce blinks and topper looks up. for a second neither of them answers, because of all people, why would they know?
“what?” kelce asks.
rafe grins like he doesn’t understand. “what do you mean ‘what’?”
“you just asked where y/n’s been.”
“yeah.”
another pause. topper and kelce exchange a glance.
rafe immediately notices, and immediately hates it. “what?” he asks.
“nothing,” topper says.
“then answer the question.”
topper leans back slightly. “i don’t know. i think she was down at the wreck yesterday.”
rafe’s eyes narrow. “the wreck?”
“yeah.”
“with who?”
kelce lets out a short laugh. “how are we supposed to know?”
rafe ignores him, his attention staying fixed on topper.
topper shrugs. “some friends, i guess.”
“what friends?”
this time both of them stare at him, and rafe doesn’t understand why. the questions seem perfectly reasonable.
he’s your boyfriend, or at least he thinks he still is.
asking where you are shouldn’t feel weird, and asking who you’ve been spending time with shouldn’t earn him these looks. at least this is what he thinks in his own head.
“i don’t know, man,” topper says slowly. “i just heard she was there.”
rafe’s jaw tightens, “like, all day?”
“i guess.”
“she was there the day before too, then,” kelce adds. “pretty sure i saw her when i was driving through.”
that piece of information settles uncomfortably in rafe’s chest. so for the last two days, while he’s been sitting around waiting for some sign of life from you, you’ve apparently been out enjoying yourself.
the realization annoys him far more than it should. he tells himself it’s because it’s weird. maybe ‘cause it’s different. after months of knowing exactly where you are and what you’re doing, the sudden lack of information feels unfamiliar.
deep down, though, he knows that’s not the reason. the real reason is that he’d expected you to be upset and miss him. instead, every report he’s hearing now makes it sound like you’re doing perfectly fine without him.
that night, the thought follows him home, and then into his bedroom, and then into the early hours of the morning.
he ends up sprawled across his bed with one arm behind his head and his phone balanced against his chest, staring at the ceiling. every few minutes he unlocks his screen or checks the time. he finds himself opening the same apps for absolutely no reason before locking the phone again.
but eventually he gives up pretending. his thumb presses against your contact. he stares at your contact photo and the message thread that’s been dead for over a week. then he backs out, opens your location instead. the map loads.
you’re not home. his foot starts bouncing immediately. he tells himself he doesn’t care, he’s obviously only looking because he’s curious. right? because it’d be weird not to wonder. because—
you’re at the movies.
the realization irritates him instantly. movies with who? how many people are there with you? when did that plan even get made? how come he didn’t know about it?
his thumb pinches the screen, zooming in on the little circle as if the answer might magically appear if he looks hard enough, but he knows it doesn’t. all it tells him is that you’re somewhere having fun. somewhere that isn’t with him.
every bit of these thoughts trace back to one stupid night and one stupid argument that he can’t stop replaying no matter how badly he wants to. because the more he thinks about it, the more details come back - the way you’d looked at him and didn’t argue. you’d just looked hurt.
rafe shifts against the headboard. your location is still pulled up on his screen, somewhere near the beach tonight, probably with friends.
his jaw tightens, loosens, then tightens again. it almost makes him angry. reaching out means admitting something, that he was wrong and that he misses hearing from you.
eventually, the silence wins. or maybe it loses. he isn’t sure anymore. all he knows is that his thumb finally presses against the keyboard.
he starts typing something longer before deleting it immediately, starts again, then deletes that too. nothing sounds right. in the end, he settles on the only thing he can manage.
rafe stares at the message for a second before he finally hits send. the delivered notification appears almost instantly, and for the first time in weeks, the waiting belongs to him.
‘ are you busy? ’
and just seconds later, your read receipts pick up below his message.
⊹ ࣪ ˖ AUTHOR'S NOTE ♥︎ it’s november already but i got this idea and wanted to write it!
── RED ROSE READER જ⁀➴ ♥︎ RAFE CAMERON
"are you sure you're okay with this?" you asked with your lips set in a small pout, your husband's face visible on your computer screen as you laid on the bed.
"of course. theo's just a kid, and it's important for you and rafe to have a healthy co-parenting relationship. part of it is both of you being there for important moments, and what's more important than trick or treating?" will smiled, "now… are you gonna show me your costume?" the man raised his brows suggestively, making you let out a soft laugh and roll your eyes.
you put on your cat ears, standing up and taking a few steps back away from your laptop, watching as your husband's eyes practically bulged out of their sockets, and you covered your mouth from embarrassment, feeling your cheeks warm.
"jesus fucking christ…" will took in a low breath and you rolled your eyes, "i feel so embarrassed." "babe, you're incredibly hot. do you have any idea what i'd do to you if i was home? turn around for me."
you turned around slowly, letting your husband get a good look at the skin-tight black full bodysuit, and as you turned around, will looked at you up and down with clear appreciation, letting out a low whistle. "you should wear that when i come home."
"yeah?" you laughed softly, flopping back down on the bed, "when's that?"
"i think we'll get the case wrapped up by wednesday. think we can celebrate halloween together belatedly? you can show me all your tricks and treats."
you burst into laughter, shaking your head, "jesus, you're the worst at sexual innuendos." you smiled, "i miss you."
"i miss you too." will sighed, leaning his head on his hands with a fond smile, the pupils of his eyes overtaking the blues, "you look gorgeous."
"i'll make sure to send some—"
your attempt at flirting was interrupted by the ring of the doorbell, followed by a high-pitched squeal coming from downstairs. "and that's rafe." you sighed, your lips now in a straight line, "i love you. call me tomorrow?"
"love you too, baby. have fun."
you could hear the elated squeal of your son even as you were walking down the stairs, "put me down, daddy!" you could hear theo screaming joyfully, "i won't! you wanted to be a superhero and superheroes fly!"
when you got to the doorway of the living room, you leaned your head on the arch with a small, fond smile on your lips, watching as rafe, dressed as batman, was holding your son, superman theo, up in the air as if he was flying.
when your son noticed you, his eyes lit up and he brought his fist forward like superman as rafe continued to make him fly, "look, mama, i'm flying!" you laughed, "i can see that, superman."
rafe walked over to you, placing theo down in front of you, "superman has arrived to his destination." rafe grinned, standing up straight. you could see him size you up in your costume with a look that resembled hunger, desire, but instead of commenting on it, rafe cleared his throat, turning to theo, "alright, superman, you ready to go get a basket full of candy?"
"yeah!" theo exclaimed, jumping up into the air. "mama, can you gimme krypto?" you chuckled softly, handing your son the white plush dog, the plushie wearing a cape you'd especially made for it, theo clutching it and cuddling it close to his chest.
theo was wandering way ahead of you two, his basket almost half-full of candy. you and rafe hadn't really said more than five words to another, and for some reason... there was an air of awkwardness surrounding you.
you cleared your throat, briefly looking to rafe before looking back at your son, "so, how's sofia?" you asked, trying to sound like saying that didn't feel like swallowing rusty nails.
"i wouldn't know." rafe shrugged, "i broke up with her." his statement made your head snap to face your ex-husband, your eyes wide, "what?" "yeah. you were right. dating theo's kindergarten teacher... it wasn't appropriate. i should've never started it. i'm sorry."
your eyes widened slightly. rafe... actually apologized for something he did, instead of acting like he could do no wrong. before you could question him on his reaction, though, you heard your son call out.
"mama! this house next!"
you let out a soft laugh, turning to rafe, "that house next, i guess."
once theo's basket was overflowing with candy, the three of you made your way to your home with theo's eyes already drooping, drool leaking onto rafe's shirt as he carried his son, softly stroking the back of the little boy's head in a way that made you swoon.
"is it okay if i put him down?" "of course. let me just..." you mumbled, pressing a kiss on top of the boy's head, "mama loves you, theo." a little "mmhmm." was the only response you got as the boy curled further into his father's chest.
rafe watched as theo let out soft mumbles as he laid in his race car bed, muscles twitching every now and then in his sleep. he smiled, brushing back some of his hair, before pressing a light kiss on theo's cheek.
when rafe walked down the stairs, he saw that you were sitting on the couch, now changed into a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt, a glass of wine nestled between your hands. as he got to the bottom of the steps, he noticed you'd placed a second glass next to the bottle.
"i can go." rafe swallowed, glancing at the wine glass, "if you want me to." "do whatever you want to do." you shrugged, taking a big sip out of your glass, "i was thinking we could sort some things out about theo, but if you don't want to, we don't have to."
rafe sighed, "if you want me to stay, you can just say that."
you swallowed, looking down at the wine glass on your lap, "fine. i want you to stay." you brought the glass to your lips, tilting your head back slightly to take a big sip, muttering, "i don't like being alone. the house is too big."
rafe sat down on the couch next to you, leaning forward to pour himself some wine before sitting back with a sigh. "why are you acting so weird?" you asked with a furrowed brow, making rafe chuckle, "like what?" "like a good guy."
"i, uh..." rafe pressed his eyes close, taking in a deep breath, "i started seeing a therapist." your eyes widened at the statement, and you turned to rafe "the fuck? are you... are you serious? you? therapy"
rafe laughed, "yeah." he took in a deep breath, "i want to be better. i want to be better for you and th-" before rafe could finish his sentence, you'd already connected your lips with his.
you moved to straddle his lap, rafe's hands finding themselves on your waist, calloused hands creeping up your back under your sweater, a grin suddenly appearing on his lips as he pulled back, squeezing your soft flesh, a string of saliva still connecting your lips, "no bra? i'm starting to think this was your plan all along."
"maybe it was." you whisper against his lips, shivers running up rafe's spine, "you're really trying to... better yourself?"
"yeah. wanna be better, for theo, for you..." rafe's lips pressed against your neck, your back arching into him, your head tilting back to give him better access to your body as you ground down on his thigh with a low breath, "rafe, i'm married..."
"we have a kid together." the man pushed up your sweater, lips trailing down to your breast, "marriage is just a piece of paper, baby. c'mon, don't tell me you haven't thought about us being together again..." rafe pressed a kiss on your nipple that made you let out a gasp, "we could give theo a proper family and shit..." he sucked the hard bud into his mouth, tongue swirling around it as he moved you back and forth on his thigh.
"rafe..." you threw your head back, grinding down on rafe's muscular thigh, his hands holding you by your waist, "fuck..." rafe's lips detached from your nipple, the man looking up at you with hazy blue eyes, "you're so fucking hot... nearly came in my pants when i saw you in that costume..."
your clit throbbed as you rocked yourself on your ex's thigh, "just think about it... us, in the same house, in the same bed..." you moaned as rafe's hold tightened on your hips, making you let out a gasp, "we could have another baby..."
"don't talk like that..." you moaned, "we're not good for each other..."
"we could be." rafe grunted, moving you on his thigh, the knot in your stomach tightening, "could be real good. we both know william doesn't make you feel as good as i do..."
"rafe..." you let out a whine, the pressure in your abdomen growing as rafe increased his pace, "fuck, rafe, i'm close!"
he grinned up at you, "yeah? gonna come for me? does will make you come this fast?"
"shut up..." you panted, grinding on him more fervently, "shut up, dumbass." rafe laughed softly, watching as your eyes rolled back in your head, revelling in it.
and finally, your pussy clenched around nothing, a high pitch leaving your lips, your brows knitting together, your nails biting into rafe's shoulder as he watched you come on his thigh, and somehow it made him feel better than when he comes; the look of pure pleasure on your face was enough to make him feel like he was the one experiencing all that.
rafe stopped moving, allowing you to come down from your high as you pressed your forehead to his shoulder, taking in deep breaths, his large hand stroking the back of your head. "you did so good." he mumbled, pressing a kiss on the side of your head, "did so good for me, baby."
➤ summary: you decided to test a theory that asking for rafe’s help might push him to finally make a move on you
➤ w/c: 3.5k
➤ warnings: kiiinda obsessive/softie rafe, sexual tension, making out, a bit suggestive at the end
masterlist taglist
You and Rafe have been circling each other for months.
It started seemingly out of nowhere. One day neither of you seemed to care or notice each other’s existence, and the next you became painfully aware that he was everywhere. Like the bulb just lit up in your head, and your eyes started catching him in your peripheral vision all the damn time—at the bonfires, at the beach when you came there with your girlfriends, at the country club with that smug grin on his face as if he knew he was the best, at the dinners that your families held together. Well, at least that's what it was like for you.
You caught his eyes staring at you more times than you could count, and you started looking back, thriving on the attention, loving the way he always noticed you even in a room full of people. Not to mention how hot he actually was and how it made you feel whenever he brushed past you—all big and warm—accidentally touching your arm and mumbling a low “sorry” as if it were just an accident.
You were in somewhat similar circles, so you made sure to give him all the cues that you didn’t mind him actually approaching you to talk for more than two seconds.
But he never made a move.
Which, on its own, was ridiculous to you. You waited. Because duh—he was Rafe. He was the one who usually approached girls and flirted like his life depended on it. He was the one who, apparently, didn’t give two shits about anything or anyone enough to care what people were thinking of him, but when it came to you, he suddenly was hesitant.
Every random run-in became more tense, more weird—the heavy glances, the smirks, the way his tongue ran over his lower lip when you caught him staring again, the way your fingers just barely glazed each other whenever he passed you the cup at the party. You probably would never forget when you accidentally bumped into him when he walked out of the corner so suddenly, because the look in his eyes was priceless. You clearly caught him off guard, and he didn’t expect to meet you. In a few seconds a thousand different emotions flashed through Rafe’s face, from surprise to a sudden, ever so noticeable millisecond of shyness, then back to his usual nonchalance. His eyes then darted down to the floor, and he brushed past you. Just like that.
You knew you weren’t crazy. You could feel it in your bones that you were right about all the little signs. And honestly, after hearing a stupid yet interesting idea from your friend, you were done waiting. She said something about guys getting stupidly attracted when you ask them for small favors. It makes them feel needed and useful, even rewarded, and since Rafe already looked at you like he wanted you, you might as well give him an idea that you don’t mind him taking care of you.
It seemed like you didn’t even have to try to find an excuse to ask for his help, because one day when you and your girlfriends went to the country club for some fun time, Rafe and his buddies were already there, standing in the back area of the main building and seemingly waiting for somebody else.
You saw them when you walked out of the back door to get the forgotten tote bag with all of your swimming stuff you planned to use for a day near the pool. The door squeaked heavily under your weight as you pushed it to open, and you groaned, both palms flat against the slick glass, realizing that they still hadn’t fixed it despite the many complaints from the visitors.
Your eyes caught his immediately after you got under the bright sun, his form straightening up a bit the moment he saw you walking out of the building, and you couldn’t help but smile at the way Rafe's eyes studied you briefly in your baby blue bikini and a cover-up at your hips.
“Hey, guys.” You greeted them, moving past the group with only your flip flops now slapping against the pavement, like nothing was happening, like you weren’t really excited to see a certain someone you’d been planning on. The bag felt heavy on your shoulder, but a few intense gazes at the back of your head were sure as hell even heavier, but you decided to ignore them for now and get back into the building to not cause any more interest.
You walked past them looking straight ahead of you, as confident as ever, but then you reached the handle of the door, pulling it once, twice, and then again with both of your hands. It stayed closed shut, and your slippers were only sliding off your feet the more effort you put into it. You groaned, frustrated instantly, looking back at the guys to see Rafe still looking directly at you like it was the most normal thing.
You smirked to yourself before turning back around to face the group. “Rafe?” You asked softly, your voice smooth and light, which made his brows shoot up instantly. Well, that was new. “Could you help me open the door, please?” He moved before you could even properly end the sentence, slightly jogging towards you to reach you faster, all while his friends were snickering and grinning like idiots at the sight of it all—Rafe Cameron willingly helping someone without a single complaint or roll of his eyes.
And then he was right in front of you. All tall, big, and tanned from the never-ending days on the golf course or his boats, with his cap turned backwards and light shirt clinging to his broad shoulders. You could read the surprise on his face, the sliver of hesitation because of your sudden ask, which quickly turned into something completely different the moment his eyes roamed over you again—the little bit of fabric that you had covering your body had suddenly stripped his mind of all of the other thoughts.
“I really hate that they still didn’t fix this damn door, I can barely move it on my own.”
“Sure.” He rasped finally, hand reaching out to open the heavy door with little to no effort, and stepping aside to let you walk in.
“Thank you, Rafe. You’re my savior.” A smile touched your lips again as you looked up into his bright and surprised eyes. You reached with your hand without even thinking, briefly touching his forearm in a thankful yet innocent gesture, before you walked inside and left him standing there with a million things on his mind.
Not even three days later Sarah called you to say that she maxed out Ward’s card. Which, in your language, meant a shit ton of new clothes that you could possibly steal or borrow from her, and which meant a girls’ night at Tanneyhill.
By the evening basically all of the available surfaces in her room were covered in clothes, while the bed looked like Sarah’s closet had just exploded. In the middle of it all you stood in the shortest turquoise dress you’d even worn, with your friend promising that you looked hot as fuck in it. You twirled in front of the mirror, looking at yourself from different angles, being slightly unsure about the model and an unusual color.
“I am telling you, this dress was literally made for you, babe. Everyone would go nuts if they saw you in it.” Sarah laughed again, while still digging through the pile on the floor to find the skirt she wanted to pair her new top with.
“You think so?” You turned around again, looking at your legs, which did look good with that exact length. You looked at your friend, biting your lip at the lie that was about to roll off your tongue. “I have to go pee real quick, okay?”
You didn’t have to. But there was an idea that sounded way too good in your head, and never-ending voices of the guys from downstairs made your skin itch with the thought that Rafe was not that far away and it was way too good of an opportunity to miss it.
You padded down the stairs into the main room, almost instantly walking into something you knew Ward didn’t allow when he was at home—Rafe, Topper, and Kelse sprawled on the expensive leather couches, beer bottles on the glass table, and some random football match on.
“Rafe?” You turned your head to the side as you called his name, noting the way he, once again, straightened up and gave you his full attention. So damn pathetic, he thought. “Quick question, but do you think the dress looks good? Sarah says it does, but I'm not really sure about the style and color. I need an unbiased opinion.”
Rafe found himself almost choking on air the moment those words left your mouth because, why in the hell, were you asking his opinion? His one was for sure far from unbiased when you looked like that. The tips of his ears instantly started warming up, indicating how thrown off he felt, the palms of his hands slid down the jean material on his thighs in a weirdly nervous way.
He tried not to stare at you like an idiot and tried to get back to his usual routine of rolling his eyes at any stupid question people tried to ask him. But with you it felt different, and he couldn’t bring himself to be rude when you seemed so soft and genuine. When you wanted his opinion out of all people.
You twirled again, the material riding up your thighs just the tiniest bit, but sure as hell enough for Rafe’s eyes to go there. “So?” You smiled impatiently, half actually wanting his approval and attention and half just enjoying how jittery he looked.
“Yeah.” Rafe's voice sounded hoarse. He looked up and down again, eyes heavy-lidded and as intense as always, adjusting himself on the couch as if he felt uncomfortable. “It’s pretty.”
He wanted to say that you were pretty but bit his tongue at the last moment to not make it seem weird. He shifted his body so his elbows rested against his knees and you couldn’t help but focus on the tanned skin of his biceps that now bulged from the polo. You bet he was as soft and warm as he looked.
You smirked, content enough that you managed to throw him off again. You mumbled a small and almost way too intimate “thanks,” looking him straight in the eyes before stepping back toward the stairs.
“We also think it looks good.” Kelse snickered at the fact that you didn’t even acknowledge any of them, making it seem like he was aware of the game that you were playing.
You paused, as if remembering that it was a bit impolite to so bluntly ignore boys who were barely holding back their smirks. You totally forgot that they were even there.
“Yeah, well, thanks!” You smiled at them, a bright contrast with how you responded to Rafe, before turning around and running back upstairs.
He thought he was going crazy. You were making him go crazy. And he wasn’t even sure whether you were just that oblivious or if it was your fucked-up plan all along.
As if the first two instances were not enough, over the next weeks you seemed to become overly dependent on Rafe, or at least somehow you always ended up in a situation where you would be able to ask for something. That one time when you asked him to make you a drink at a party because “Topper’s always tastes like shit,” or when you really needed to make a call from his phone, or when you and your families were sitting at a restaurant and you asked him to bring you your charger from the car. And it was just things off the top of his head.
Each time you looked up at him with those soft doe eyes, a small smile was on your lips that always made him stare just a tad bit longer than it was acceptable. He made you a drink. He let you make a phone call. He got your charger. Just to hear your gratitude each time, as his name naturally rolled off your tongue.
Just to get that weird kick of pride every time he was useful for you.
Just to then step back away from you, sit at the farther corner of the table, and sulk in his own weirdly warm and kind of uncomfortable feelings. Rafe could feel your fragrance stuck around him like some sticky honey even if he still hadn't gotten the chance to touch you. His eyes returned to you not even a minute later to see you already looking at him but then focusing on something else as if he didn’t just catch you.
You smiled to yourself, not looking at him anymore—fixing your hair or your necklace, checking your phone, or already switching your attention to anybody else—as if knowing that that little favor got him hooked on you for the rest of the night. It made his skin itch and leg jump nervously, because whatever you did, it worked.
Now Rafe stared at your name on his phone with a mixture of emotions. You were calling him. For the first time. And he knew that it was you because a few months ago he accidentally found your phone number and had it saved “just in case,” not thinking too much about it.
Now it was ringing in his hand while he looked down at it with brows drawn tightly together and jaw tight from sudden nerves. He couldn’t understand what the fuck was going on for the life of him.
He swiped right with a weird tremor in his hand, his throat suddenly dry as if he had eaten a handful of sand.
“Yeah?” Rafe winced at the sound of his own voice. His hand reached up to the back of his neck, rubbing it even before he could hear your answer.
“Rafe? Hi, it’s me.”
“I know.”
“You know?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh.” Your voice sounded so soft, and he swore he could hear you smile. Rafe fell back against the back of the couch, sprawling against the sleek leather and patiently waiting for you to speak again. His eyes focused on the shadows on the ceiling, but in the back of his mind he thought about how you probably looked now—soft, probably twirling something in your hand the way he saw you doing a million times, and, well, probably planning on torturing him a bit more. “Um, yeah, okay! So I didn’t want to bother you—like, really—but I kinda need some help with the boxes at my place, and I just though…” You trailed suggestively. Rafe shut his eyes, jaw tight. “Maybe you could help me out, please?”
He was there not even fifteen minutes later. Pathetically enough, he couldn’t say "no." He didn’t want to. He felt the tugging feeling in his chest that maybe you were using him because he was so fucking obvious with his crush. Maybe you were, in fact, just like the other girls on the island who were not new to manipulating guys for their money or things they could get, even if deep down he knew that it was dumb to even consider that. But Rafe still, like a desperate teenager who got a sliver of attention from the cool girl from his school, came around and let himself be useful to you, because what if…
“I’m so sorry that I called you, Rafe!” You greeted him the moment he jumped out of his truck, all smiley and friendly as always. You were dressed in a cute little set of shorts and a tank top, which was good enough for Rafe to take a double look down your body. His palms were sweating from the sudden want to run over the soft material that hugged you perfectly and in all the right places. “I really need to get this into my car, and my dad’s out of town.”
He rubbed the back of his neck, jaw tight. “It’s fine.” Short. Gruff. He hated how unsteady he felt around you lately—like his skin was too tight and his thoughts too loud. Yet not a single part of him was able to resist you when you looked at him like that or when you murmured his name. It was something that he could only imagine before that, something that made him feel useful and crave your approval more.
Rafe moved quickly, picking up boxes from the front steps of your house and then loading them into the trunk of your car, while you followed him back and forth. Your eyes never left his body, lingering on the way the veins on his arms bulged from the heavy weight, wondering how they would feel on you when he finally pulls himself together. While Rafe thought of it as sweet, sweet torture, because what else could he call it when you fully enveloped him in your scent and stood way too close to him, so whenever he bent down for a box, he was only met with your silky-smooth legs right in front of his face?
When the last box slipped into the trunk, he closed it with a soft thud, dusting off his hands, and turned to face you. You leaned against the side of the car, hands crossed across your chest, eyes already set on his face as if you were waiting for him to notice. Rafe’s pulse spiked up. He finally got too aware that you two were the only ones standing on the street, and the sun was setting behind him and coloring everything around you in a warm golden light. You were almost too pretty like this, and the nauseous feeling of realization made his face twist involuntarily.
“What?” You murmured softly.
“Why me?” He asked bluntly, his voice low and rough. Rafe stepped closer, backing you against the side of the car, trying to regain at least some part of the control you got over him. “You’ve got friends. Family. Half the island would trip over themselves if you asked them for anything. But you keep picking me. The door. The dress. Drinks at parties. Now fucking boxes. What game are you playing?”
You didn’t flinch. Instead, you tilted your head, lips curving into a slow, flirty smile as you looked up at him through your lashes. Probably for the first time since you've known Rafe Cameron, you saw him being actually nervous with his emotions all over the place.
“Maybe I like that you’re helping me. Maybe I like that you can’t say “no” to me. Maybe I wanted to stay on your mind all the time.” Your hand reached out to the collar of his polo, fixing it. Innocently, but enough for Rafe to feel blood pumping in his ears. “Did it work?”
Fuck.
You could visibly see the realization settling in, the way his pupils dilated and the baby blue got almost fully consumed. His throat bubbled, yet he still couldn’t say a thing. You waited a few long moments, observing his reaction, trying to figure out what was going on in that head of his that seemed to never actually turn off. His jaw flexed like he was fighting every instinct he had.
Rafe’s hand shot up, cupping the side of your face as he closed the last inch of space between you. The kiss hit like a storm—hungry, desperate, months of circling and teasing exploding all at once. His mouth claimed yours with bruising heat, tongue sliding deep and possessive, tasting you like he’d been dying for it, even if you felt just the tiniest tremor in his hand. You moaned into him, fingers tightening in his shirt as you kissed him back just as fiercely, bodies pressing together against the warm metal of the car.
Rafe groaned against your lips, finally giving in to the urge of touching you, allowing his free hand to gently land on your waist and, the next moment, fully circle around it to bring you impossibly closer to him. He was everywhere around you, filling all of your senses, completely shutting down your brain, until the only thought was how right it felt. When he sucked your bottom lip between his teeth and tugged gently, you whimpered, nails digging into his shoulders.
He pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, both of you breathing hard, lips brushing with every exhale. His voice was hoarse this time. “You’ve been driving me insane… on purpose.”
You didn’t deny it. Instead, you smiled, soft and wicked, then silently tightened your grip on the front of his shirt. Your eyes held his as you started walking backward toward your front door, tugging him along.
Rafe followed without a word, like an obedient puppy with big, hungry, and glassy eyes, letting you pull him inside.
♡ when you’re so wet that rafe keeps slipping out..
warnings: making out, heavy petting, dry humping (not really, it’s pretty messy), finger sucking, cockwarming (?), unprotected sex, praise, teasing, rafe being super pussy drunk, belly bulge, size kink, biting, slight dacryphilia
“fuck, look at those hips..” rafe pulled away from your lips, a string of saliva still connecting you two as he dragged you up and down his lap, his large palms enveloping the soft globes of your ass. with shaky hands, you held onto his shoulders as you rocked on top of him, your panties drenched with your arousal. “need’ you, ray..” you whimpered, “please.” rafe pressed a trail of sloppy kisses across your collarbone, his tongue licking a stripe up the column of your throat as your eyes fluttered shut.
he navigated your body like it was the back of his hand, his skillful touch turning you into putty. rafe could feel your heat through his boxers, the soaked fabric making him groan as his hardened cock strained against the material. “i’ll give it you, baby, don’t worry,” he landed a harsh smack to your ass, ripping a yelp from your lips, “wet those fingers for me.” rafe could only imagine how slippery your cunt would feel swallowing him whole, your slick alone already making you glide easily on top of the layers separating you two from full penetration.
giggling softly, rafe watched as your hand disappeared underneath the waistband of your panties, his breath hitching once you held up your fingers, a pool of your sticky succulence glistening underneath the dim light. knowing that he was the one to make you like this made him twitch with need, his hand wrapping around your wrist as he brought your digits to his mouth. with a baited breath, you gasped softly when he took your juices on his tongue, the man in front of you moaning at the taste.
no matter how many times rafe found his head between your thighs, he could never get used to how intoxicating you were, all of his senses and primal instincts honing in on fucking you stupid. without wasting another second, rafe was quick to take himself out of his boxers, a hiss leaving his lips as his length smacked against your tummy. peeling back the lace material of your underwear, he slid them down your legs until he caught sight of the absolute mess between your thighs.
laying you down on your back, rafe brought your knees up to your chest, using one hand to press on your lower abdomen and the other to guide himself between your folds. he was so hard, he had to use his thumb to keep the tip of his cock down so he could enter your needy cunt. he marveled at the size difference, the head of his length stopping just below your belly button. “fuck, i’m gonna wreck you..” he trailed off, toying with your clit before slipping inside, filling you up inch by inch until you were crying out in both pleasure and pain.
with the hand that he had on your stomach, he guided your own over the budge in your tummy, your eyes widening slightly as he started thrusting into you at a steady pace. “you feel that? ‘feel the way my cock fills you up to the fucking brim?” your eyes rolled back at the same time you whined out a ‘f-fuck, yes!’ into your palm. your walls stretched deliciously around the the welcomed intrusion that was his length, your pussy clenching around him for all that he had. the sounds falling from your lips were nothing short of pornographic, the moans and choked sobs only pushing rafe closer to the edge.
he sped up until his skin was slapping against your own, your back arching off of the bed when he slipped out and stroked your clit with the underside of his cock. you shrieked at the sensation, your legs trembling in sensitivity. “too much..” you shook your head, bringing your legs down to wrap around his waist instead. rafe groaned, your slick dripping down his length as he tapped your glossy folds. “you’re so fucking wet, i’m slipping right out,” he grunted, “this is what i do to you, ‘pretty girl?” he leaned down, nipping the sensitive part of your neck.
he kept himself nestled inside of you for a few moments, letting you revel in being so utterly full. you gave him an approving hum, your nails digging into his skin as he bit you softly across your collarbone. starting up his thrusts again, he slipped out as soon as he picked up the pace, the action making him curse under his breath. your eyes watered in frustration, your bottom lip pulled tightly between your teeth. rafe saw your tears, the sight shooting straight to his cock. he loved seeing how delirious he made you, his chest filling up with pride as you looked up at him with that fucked-out gaze.
soon after he continued, your high was hitting you in intense waves, the coil in the pit of your stomach snapping in two as rafe watched your eyebrows knit together, the added mess between your thighs only making his hips stutter with his own climax painting your walls. “rafe!” you screamed in his ear, his thumb slipping between your lips for you to bite down on while he twitched and convulsed inside of you. a shiver ran down his back as he caged you tightly between his arms, his seed spilling out of you as you both went through the aftershocks of your orgasms.
once you were okay, rafe pressed a kiss to your lips, stroking the side of your face before rolling over to your side. “what’s your ring size?” he sighed, pulling you against his chest. you laughed softly, slightly confused at the words that left his mouth. “why?” rafe’s chest was rising and falling as he glanced down at you, meeting your eyes. “are you kidding me? i need to lock this pussy down. like tonight.”
ex!rafe who lets you to say to everyone that you chose the break up, because he knows how much you need the validation knowing you ended it when you both agreed it was mutual
ex!rafe who still drives past your house everyday, making sure the lights are off at 12pm so that you’re sleeping well. and if they’re not, then you’re certain a text will be sent
R : go to sleep
you: ??
R : sleep, baby
ex!rafe doesn’t change your nick name from what it was in his contacts even months after you two promise you’re over. as soon as you send a message to him, he replies instantly.
ex!rafe who never, not once, even looks at another girl. topper and kelce try constantly to convince him there are “more fish in the sea”, but rafe just shakes his head. “i don’t want other fish.”
ex!rafe whos always by your side at parties, never touching you without your consent but always there in time when you’re too drunk and slurring words. and rafe who takes you home as soon as he knows you’ve gone past your intolerance, saying kind words to your parents so they won’t scold you as much as they would if he hadn’t given an explanation
ex!rafe who doesn’t care how you call him your “boy best friend”. everyone has eyes can see the way you two look at each other, and whatever it is, it definitely isn’t platonic.
ex!rafe who pretends not to get jealous over how close you are with the pogues, especially the boys, but he doesn’t want to act like an over territorial animal so whenever you two hang out he just kisses your temple and rests his forehead against your hair.
ex!rafe who, when everything is quiet, looks over the photos of you two dating in his camera roll. he has a whole album with just pictures of you, and sometimes he’ll sneak one cute one without you looking.
ex!rafe who knows you love him, that the breakup wasn’t casual. it’s why he dismissed all you snarky comments whenever it’s bought up. he knows you, better than anyone.
ex!rafe who knows that no matter how many times you break up with him, you’ll always get back together. of that he’s certain.
The faint sound of waves filled your ears, mixed with the wet sound of Rafe's lips on your neck.
He was on top of you, pressing you slightly against the white pillows of the kingsized bed which had been untouched for months.
He rarely slept in his yacht, he invited girls there even less often.
However you were an exception, he'd do anything for you. And when you asked him to spend the weekend away alone in his yacht? How could he possibly say no.
The window was slightly ajar, enough for the sound of the waves to sneak in, but not enough for the sound of your moans to slip out. You thought so atleast.
Didn’t bother closing it.
– "I love you so much" he murmured against your mouth, hand tracing your thighs with slow, steady movements. "Fuck baby you looked so pretty today, you always do"
You smiled, deepening the kiss, it was slower now, more intimate and Rafe's hands slid beneath the hem of your blouse. His fingers brushing your bare skin in a way that made you shiver.
He groaned, – "You're wearing too many clothes baby" he kissed your collarbone. "Take them off before I go insane."
You giggled but let out a soft moan when his hands moved to the waistband of your skirt, pulling it off with practiced ease.
Your blouse followed, leaving you only in your lace underwear which you specifically wore for him and him only.
He took off his own shirt, tossing it somewhere on the floor beneath the bed. Your hands roamed his chest, your manicured nails travelling over his muscle.
He grinned, – "You like that don't you?"
You sighed, kissing him again for an answer. Your fingers curled around the hem of his underwear. Earning a low groan and some soft muttering from him.
Your panties landed on the floor, his boxers followed seconds after.
You tangled your fingers in his hair, arching into him with a moan as he finally pressed into you. He groaned, forehead pressing into yours as your hips rolled up to meet his, creating a beautiful rhythm between the two of you.
Your hands traced down his back, nails scratching slightly drawing sighs and moans from his lips as he moved inside you with precision, hitting your sweet spot over and over again.
His mouth found yours, tongue slipping inside, earning a soft moan from you as the tension grew tighter and tighter in your stomach.
– "You close yet?" He murmured against your mouth, hips moving just slightly faster.
You nodded, too caught up in the moment to be able to speak. His hand slid between you, fingers finding your clit and you came with a cry, hips bucking as he kept moving through your climax, searching for his own release.
When he came he kissed your neck, sucking gently on the skin as his hips still moved. – "Oh fuck you feel so good baby" he groaned.
– "Mmph I love you" you murmured, finally being able to form a whole sentence again.
✎ 𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: What do we think of this then? I can't decide if it's good or bad or something in between like wtf? Once again THANK YOU for all the love i've gotten on my recent posts it means the world to me !!
summary: rafe got a buzzcut and calls you to show you
warnings: none
a/n: this is a very short one guys, i’m sorry 😔
-> dividers credits: @bhavihelps & @anitalenia !!
part 2!! :)
rafe went with topper and kelce to topper’s right after he got his new haircut. he was very much pleased with his new look, but he was lowkey nervous about your reaction. but just a little bit.. he knew he looked good.
"have you told her?" topper said while he was busy playing a video game. kelce was sprawled on the couch while he stared at rafe and waited for his answer. rafe simply shook his head before he took his phone out of the pocket of his shorts.
"it’s a surprise." rafe smirked and unlocked his phone. "you’re so screwed." kelce chuckled out before he sat up so he could take a sip of his beer. rafe rolled his eyes and kelce smirked. "you know how girls are." topper agreed. "sarah cried when i cut my hair."
kelce pointed at topper. "see?" rafe groaned. "that’s ‘cause topper’s dating a bitch." topper shook his head. "hey, don’t call your sister bitch man." rafe chuckled and smirked when he finally got to find your number and started calling you.
"you’re about to be single or.. you’re about to have the best sex of your life." kelce mumbled quietly and rafe shook his head at his comment with a small smile spreading on his lips. "you’re stupid."
then you finally answered. "hii!" rafe’s smile got wider thanks to hearing your voice. "hey baby."
meanwhile you, on the other side, were just laying in your bed, watching a movie. "what’s up? are you still at topper’s?" rafe cleared his throat. "yeah. i uh.. i have to show you something."
you raised your eyebrows at that. "show me what?" he rubbed his freshly buzzed hair and smirked wider at her reaction. "i’ll facetime you, okay?" you smiled in confusion on the other side. "sure."
rafe quickly did what he said but purposely turned his camera off. he smiled when he saw your face. "i can’t see you." you said with a small chuckle. he wasn’t chronically online as you so you thought he was just dumb and accidentally turned his camera off.
"oops.. my bad." he teased and turned his camera on. your eyes widened but you stayed silent.. he was like 10 times hotter than before.. HOW was that even possible. your lips parted a bit as you kept staring for like a minute.. in silence. he chuckled with a smirk. "do you like it?" he turned his head to the side so you could see it better. you snapped back to reality. “mhm?"
"do you like it?" he repeated. you nodded with this shy but also teasing smile. "like it? i love it." he smirked and looked at kelce & topper, giving them a knowing look. he knew you’ll love it.
he couldn’t help but smirk wider as you admired him, not even saying anything. "cat’s got your tongue, baby?" he teased and you couldn’t help but smile back. "what? i can’t stare at my boyfriend?"
"oh of course you can." he got up and just walked away from his two friends so you two could get more.. talkative.
"no but seriously, it suits you so well." you genuinely meant every word. he literally can pull off anything. he smirked softly at you. "thanks, baby." your eyes landed on his face again.
"how much longer are you staying at topper’s?" you shifted on your bed slightly, you could feel you got wet already just from looking at him. jesus, you felt pathetic but damn.. he looked insanely hot.
he smirked before he licked his lips. "why?" you shrugged before you ran your fingers through your hair. "just.. i’m home alone tonight."
