Rafe Cameron - Blog Posts

Content warning: Rafe being horny, little foreplay, lots of grabbing, kissing, takes place at your place, lots of teasing, established relationship, tit play

Summary: sexy time with a twist

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You were in the bathroom, hiking your favorite underwear up your legs, trying to capture the sensuality they do on screen when the doorbell rang throughout your living room catching your attention.

With one final draw up your thighs you pulled the waistline up, resting the elastic hem against your skin, twirling on the tips of your toes, looking back, giving your ass a little shake on the way out. You dropped the t-shirt from under your chin, smacking the lights with with your palm, entering the dark.

You skipped over to the door, careful to dodge an obstacles that may have been waiting for you. Successfully making it to the door, you twisted the knob to reveal in all his 6'2 glory, your handsome boyfriend leaning against the doorframe.

You flicked on the dull porch light just to see his face, his eyes trailing down to your shirt, noticing the faint presence of your breasts, your nipples poking at the fabric freely.

"Expecting someone else?" He asked, watching you acan him from head to toe.

"Just looking," you sassed, throwing your arms around him, the action further confirming his suspicion when he felt your chest press against him, your arms sweeping beneath his, connecting around his back.

His hands came to rest on your lower back, his fingers deafly sweeping over the end of your shirt.

You let go ever so slowly, retracing your action, but instead of letting go your pinkie slips through his index and you reel him in, pulling him toward you.

Your shirt swayed teasingly as you twirled keeping him locked in your grasp, the change providing a good view to the white panties outlining the curve of your ass.

Rafe's lip curled at the silent promise of a treat.

"Turn the light off behind you," you said, waving at the row of switches. He took his time, memorizing the art before him, one he wouldn't mind adding a couple more strokes to.

He did as told, letting the dark envelop the house once more, following you to your single bedroom.

He wasted bo time, shoving you on to your mattress, your instincts making sure you landed on hands and knees, ass up, facing him. Full access as he wanted.

"Wait," you exclaimed, crawling away from the edge of the bed, making room on the other side.

"What?" He questioned, his hands pulling at your comforter in an attempt to guide you back over to him.

He was so needy when he knew he was getting action. Sometimes he took his time, but any other he got right down to business.

You flipped onto your back, sitting up against the pile of pillows behind you, an iron grip fell on Rafe's collar, his stature falling level to you in seconds.

He was still tall, even on his knees, struggling to maintain his posture as you pulled him forward so you moved your legs making more room for him, your knees folded against his ribs as your lips connected.

Once he was steady he hooked his cool fingers beneath your knee, shifting the whole situation to have him beneath you while he selfishly tugged at your clothes.

Things got heated quick, shirts got removed, and mouths got to work, his tongue swirling around your sensitive stump, his warm mouth closing around, teeth sinking into the doughy flesh. His palm kneed the other pinching it, flicking his thumb to sooth over the stinging.

He was so entranced by you he cupped them in entirety and just squeezed, thrusting his erection further up, now digging into the damp cloth between your legs. When he pulled away from your tit he kissed the other, and lowered you to the mattress, following suit, his body cared yours.

"Is that.." kiss, "enough.." slip of the tongue tickling through roof of your mouth, "break?"

If you didn't combust right there, melting to the heat applied to all senses.

Finally he was moving where he really wanted, from your hardened nipples, down your stomach, feeling it tighten further down.

His index circled your waistline before he sank in, making you hiss at his cold ring dragging against your pelvic bone.

"The fuck are these?" He grumbled, curling the fabric around his finger, pulling it, letting it snap back against you making you flinch.

"Huh?" You were steadying yourself on your elbow, watching him pull at but not move the panties.

This wasn't the first time he had sex with you, and definitely not the first time he's had to strip you to get you where he wanted.

"the hell is this shit?" He repeated louder, repeating the motion of.

"Rafe, what?" You pulled away, scooted up into a seat, resting your knees to your chest and arms stacked to cover your partial nudity.

"That's not what you usually wear," "and that has what to do with this?"

In all honesty this wasn't where you thought it would end up going, and you're still unsure of how it got to this point.

"What is it?"

You're aware that his last relationships he's probably had girls dress up for him, and you do that occasionally, but Rafe doesn't usually care as long as he can relieve himself or you.

He's acting like a kid discovering porn, "comfortable is what it is."

"But why? You're young and pretty, don't you want to look like it?" He gestured towards the underwear. They were a little bigger than the average cut, they offered decent coverage and went high, and they resembled a diaper shape wise, but that shouldn't matter if they're coming off.

"What's wrong with these?"

"They're granny panties," you could hear the disapproval in his voice.

Did he want you to get rid of them or what? You only had one question, letting a silence creep between the two of you. They even have lace, not a whole lot, but enough.

"Are we still doing this or?" And he let your question linger, he shifted, his head shaking, hand coming to his face in contemplation.

You grumbled, swinging your feet over the edge of the bed, he sat up, still thinking to himself while you scooted off the bed.

He turned his head for a second, watching you gather your shirt and hold your breasts out of sight with an arm, pulling it over your head.

You slowed your movements hoping he gave you an answer of some sort, but he kept watch, so you left him in the dark, disappearing into the bathroom.

You closed the door behind you, turning the light on, Rafe heard you moving around and was drawn back your way by the creaky door.

Your hip leaned against the doorframe, your fingers pinching your shirt up to reveal you had changed into black lace, thinly cut that would potentially give you a wedgie.

He visibly perked up, tilting his head at you, itching to come forward.

You approached the bed, walking slowly, crawling towards him, stopping at his lap, you brought your legs beside him, straddling him, letting the rest of you relax against him.

"Let's try this again," you offered, delicately pecking his lips.

You let him undress you again, this time with the aid of the lace, he still slipped them down to your ankles.

"Thought you wanted those," you pointed out, finally feeling his fingers dig into your core.

"Eh," he shrugged, "visually."

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A/n; for a second you had him like...

Dog days are over

Ill!Rafe x gf!reader

Summary: Rafe's your patient

Content warning: fluff, symptoms consistent with a cold, soft-ish Rafe, medication, meditation, and some TLC, Cameron sibling dynamic

A/n: Happy Valentines Day

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Something is off.

You felt it.

With infrequent visits from your boyfriend, texts over calls, and no contact otherwise you were concerned.

He's expressed a text is nice, but it doesn't properly demonstrate his disapproval, if any. That and he doesn't like to miss you on the phone. If you needed to talk then and there he'd do it.

You usually see him around when you're not hanging out, but the last two weeks have been different.

Last week you caught him at the bonfire, and he kept you in his sight while chugging a barrel of beer, and Tuesday he arranged lunch plans for you two, but that was the last time you actually saw him.

Since then he makes sure to send a text a day at least, in between those. It's not always coherent, but it's something.

Today would mark the third quarter of a week in which you haven't had physical contact.

Rafe, on the other end of that was miserable. His head was killing him, palm pressed up to his forehead as he sat in the kitchen, squeezing the life out of a water bottle, letting some of it dribbling down his chin.

He was encouraged before seeking a medical fix to try drinking water since he and hydration have history.

Advised by you, the one time you played doctor.

Maybe you could cure him, you've done it before right?

But, by the way your phone hasn't rang, he's decided against it. Until you got a text from an unknown number.

Unknown

Unkn: Please come get my brother

You: Sarah?

She's who you immediately thought of because you were considering a house visit.

Once she confirmed it was her, you immediately edited the contact name.

Sarah <3: Yes

You: what's wrong?

Sarah <3: I'll call you

And when it rang you picked up. Sarah initially didn't say something, but you could hear her footsteps, and the wind faintly in the background.

You listened on, curious about what was happening, and then you heard it.

A suppressed cough followed by a sniffle, but that wasn't all. "Sarah, get out," Rafe rasped on the other end, his voice clear in the background.

And then her retreating steps.

Once she was out of earshot she adjusted the camera to face time, her blonde hair whipping into frame.

"How long has he been like that?" "Who knows?" She shrugged, adjusting her shirt. She didn't have much to say on the matter, she simply flipped the screen around, revealing Rafe on the couch.

He's on his stomach, face pressed into a pillow and a blanket pulled up to his waist. Visually his surroundings were clean, no tissues, pill bottles, no indication he's been on the couch longer than it looks, but if you squint you could see the crease in his forehead, and chest moving with his labored breaths.

Then it switched back to Sarah, "get him out of here, please."

"I'll see what I can do," you said, kicking off your covers.

You were on the road soon enough, driving to the Camerons's house.

When you arrived, you pulled into the driveway, backing symmetrically against the curb, turning off your engine.

Sarah tip toed outside, skipping over to your car with the biggest grin. "So?" She asked, hopefully placing her hand on her hips.

She had a lot of faith in your ability to influence Rafe to do anything.

"I need to see him first," you dodge, stepping up to the porch. Your knuckles rapped against the door, stopping when you heard a groan from the other side.

You pressed your ear to the door, hearing Rafe's grumbling and dragging feet. The lock clicked against the door, Rafe's fingers gripping the door frame, a couple inches above his head, which was hung low.

You looked up, your fingers sifting his hair out of his face, your eyes looking up to meet his tired, droopy ones. He straightened his lousy posture, turning his head away, "What're you doing here?"

Sarah called, but that's not what he wanted to hear. "I've been meaning to visit," you step closer, wedging your foot between the door. "Let me in?"

He again grumbled under his breath, shuffling back, keeping an eye in you as you walked through the door, closing it behind you.

Now you were looking around. You could see Rafe's makeshift palate on the couch, the living room furniture spotless, and an air freshner fuming in the corner.

Mint?

"So, how are you feeling?" "Fine."

You had dropped your bag off on the loveseat, across the way, sitting down in the corner, keeping him in sight.

You figured your staring had made him uncomfortable with how much he shifted around once he "settled". Not long after for the one second you turned away he got to his feet, gathered his blankets and lugged them over his shoulder, heading up the stairs.

You waited to he disappeared to give him a semblance of space, too getting to your feet.

Sarah peeked her head back in, scanning the coast landing on you, shimmying the belt of your jeans up a little higher. You shot her a playful look, unhooking your car keys from the chain of your purse, tossing them to her.

"Got it," she whispered, popping out.

And so you went up.

Rafe's room was in poorer shape than the living room. Bed disheveled, laundry tossed over, his pillows stripped, curtains tied, his closet had seemingly flooded into the room, and the picture above his bed was crooked.

"Rafe..." You offered a sympathetic look, tilting your head at him. He rolled his shoulders back, plopping onto his bed, hands folding over his abdomen.

This was so unlike him, the bed like him, but everything else was usually neat. Some superstition about the state of your mental. Right now his is crowded, stuffy, and in need of a little tidying up.

You trudged through his sock pile, stepping into the clear tile of his bathroom floor, eyes immediately drawn to the trash overflowing with tissues. Empty boxes parked on the sink, floor, in the tub.

Unlike some people, he's not too kooky about being sick. In fact he'll lie in it.

You didn't need to check his temp to know he was burning up, despite the goosebumps littering his arms.

He was sick. Not a doubt in your or his mind.

You peeled back his foggy mirror, looking at the many yellow prescription bottles he's got lying in a row, twisting the labels around.

Some of these are for low blood pressure, not of course prescribed to him.

"Bae," you called, swiping a couple up, "which one of these is Tylenol?" Probably none.

And you were right, not Tylenol, ibrouprophen, not acetaminophen, nothing you could think of off the tip of your brain. "Okay," perhaps you were being too specific.

"Which one of these is a painkiller or reliever of sort?"

Finally, Rafe thought. A broader spectrum to work with. Over the counter meds wouldn't do it for him. Part of him wanted the high.

"White pills, red label," he coughed.

White pills red label, white pills, red label, white pills, you repeated to yourself, swatting the other bottles away. You found it far off in the corner. "Vicodin?"

"Yeah,"

"Two, right?"

"Three,"

"Nice try," you chuckled popping the pills into your palm. You know he'd take one every 30 minutes if he didn't feel they were kicking in fast enough.

Before you could ask about water you stepped forward until a mound of them, all crinkled up, empty, there had to be at least 10.

Poor baby, he was really suffering.

"Sit up and lean back," you instructed, holding your hand out, watching him look down at the pills then to you.

He attempted to grab them, but you closed your hand making him grumble, "I'm fine where I'm at," he grumbled for the umpteenth time.

"Choke," you wished, tossing them at him.

He wheezed out a broken laugh, making you almost regret your request, "if you insist," he smirked, watching you scramble to the edge of the bed, reaching for the medicine.

He pulled away.

Of course.

Your knee slipped beneath his as you climbed on top of him, sitting on his thigh, the other leg propped up beside you. "Finally, some urgent care," he leaned forward, abs crunching beneath your hand pinning his waist down.

"Not that kinda rodeo," you insisted, slipping your fingers over the crevice of his shoulders, squeezing them, pinching at his collarbone.

His brows unfurled, loosening at the feel of your attentive touch working over some tense spots.

Once you got him mellowed out you scooted off his lap, settling beside him, running your fingers through his hair.

You would've made tea, or got an him an ice pack, but his body temperature was so out of wack he may not be able to handle anymore chemical changes.

When you were done your fingers found their way through his hair, sweeping it back from over his eyes, combing it back, giving his scalp a nice scratch the had his head tilting over your shoulder.

He huffed against you, defeated the simple act had tamed him considerably.

"This all you wanted? Just a little loving?" He opened his eyes, cocking his head back, "Why are you talking to me like I'm a dog?"

"I think all partner talk was derived from talking to dogs," you concluded, shrugging it off.

You sat there for a while, acting out terrible scenarios of how talking to a partner could feel like treating/taming a dog.

While you were talking, you put the rooms trash to use, sifting through what you could reach from the bed.

And Rafe made a game of shooting balls of socks into his laundry bin.

"This feels poguey," he comments, leaning his head back against your lap with a genuine smile.

"Doesn't make it less fun," it just meant he wouldn't admit to anything that's happened in the last two hours.

His wrist flicked back, hurling the white socks towards the bin, landing beside it.

"Oh, big talk there," you winced, pinching his side.

"Alright, hotshot, let's see you make a basket," he challenged, looking up to you.

All was in good fun and while kisses may have been contagious you stuck to scratching his chin, placing your palm over his forehead and kissing the back of it for the time being.

Sticky

Warnings; Barry being Barry, grinding, licking, swearing, attempted undressing, smoking, overstimulation (if you squint), heavy making out, Rafe being sour, established relationship, ass slapping (briefly)

A/n; TBH this is self indulgent, 🫣 There is a plot-ish

Word count; 2.5k

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You were napping, your head cradled in your sleepy state, nose tucked into the crease of your elbow, leg propped up at the perfect angle and your backside tooted up a little more than usual, resting in all its glory, the only surfaced thing on the sunken mattress.

Normally you would be sprawled out all over the sheets, arms thrown over your head or to the side, whatever felt right, and of course the blanket you so desperately clung to ended up wrung around your waist, thrown over your leg, the other limply hanging over the edge of the bed.

The sound of Barry's obnoxious laughter echoed down the hall, following him into his mess of a room, his flipflops knocking stray beer bottles over as he pushed forward, noticing you for the first time in ever that he's seen you on one side of the bed, comfortably laid out, well one and a half if he's being technical, but still.

It was a sight to see, your pajamas hanging around you, tight around your arms due to being curled somewhat to the side, your breasts mashed together with the help of your arm, which he just now noticed, your position.

Face down, ass up.

His favorite.

You didn't seem to budge, even with him being a bull in a china shop. Fortunately, over the last two years you've grown accustomed to that as he did with your sleeping style.

He leaned forward, his hand falling dangerously close to your thighs as he pushed down between the small triangle shape between your legs. His knee followed, his shorts scrunched up at the knee as he placed it a few inches behind his thumb, adding more pressure to the center of the mattress, the plush surface keeping you stable bending to him as if on command.

You stirred, your hips dipped from side to side, trying to regain comfort, but instead you were greeted by the warm grasp of his free hand, his thumb sliding over the bowl of your ass, cupping it gently, his other fingers drumming over it, pressing into it a little firmer than last time, but not hard enough to jolt you awake.

Once he was steady he leaned forward, blanketing himself over you, burying his nose against the side of your head, letting out a silent sigh against you, his lips pressing against where he rested.

You rolled around, still chasing the fleeting comfort of drowsy ness, your eyes flickered open at the feeling of his heavy presence, your hips playfully arching towards his resting grasp, causing him to give another squeeze in response.

"You gone get up yet?" He asked, watching you recoil the sheets as a solid response.

He gave a gentle pat against your skin, hearing you grumble, you could feel a grin spreading across his face, "words," he teased.

You weren't even fully awake, but you can tell he just wanted to play with you. A squeeze here, a smack there, like you intended.

Unfortunately he doesn't mix business with pleasure, so long as he has 'clients' over you weren't getting any play.

Your voice is hoarse and thick as you shift off one side, making a minor adjustment to face him, lips parting to ask, "you close up shop yet?"

"Nah-" "then no," you responded, burying your face back into your arm.

You awaited a response along the lines of 'almost done,' or 'they can wait,' but dope isn't cheap and neither is Barry. Nothing. Nothing over the shuffling of feet, a solid smack, Rafe's fist meeting his palm as he stared at the scene before him.

Barry on top of you, your legs overlapping and more skin than necessary showing, mostly from Barry as he was covering you, and his hand placement, one one your ass which was housing a growing boner and the flushed look on Barry's face.

Barry wasn't shocked either, once he realized it was Rafe he leaned down on top of you, your head turning as he planted a kiss to your cheek, easing off of you.

He rolled his eyes, backing out, throwing his head back, feigning disgust as if he hadn't caught yall doing worse on multiple occasions.

Once he was up he spared you a second glance, his tongue flicking over his lower lip at the sight of you, disgruntled and bothered, followed by rustling sheets he then turned to Rafe, squinting his eyes at him.

He sucked in a harsh breath, urging the kid out of the room, following behind him, he lazily grabbed something off the shelf as he was passing through the hall, Rafe stepping onto the porch first turning to him, Barry leaned against the frame, muttering under his breath as he clutched the flask in his hand, letting it fall to his hand the other running over his eyes.

"Busy morning?" He asked, watching him take a whiff, nodding his head over the metal, pressing it to his lips. "You want business, you gotta make an appointment like everybody else," he interrupted, changing the topic.

While you were still in bed, groggy from your boyfriend feeling you up, you had managed a sitting position, shoulders slumped, and legs sway inches above the ground, your hand rubbed your eyes viciously, falling against your thigh with an audible slap.

Just as you stepped out of the room, decent to your standards you trudged through the hall into the foggy living room, magazines face down with coke residue next to them, you heard a grunt followed by a husky whistle.

You turned your head to see one of the newcomers coming out of the bathroom, in a plain white tee and his faded jeans flooding at his ankles. He sported a fresh cut, the gel hadn't even set yet as his hands slicked his hair further back, making his forehead bigger, eyes darkened and dilated as he approached, his eyebrows raising in expectation. You scoffed, giving him a dirty look.

He reciprocated, his tongue licking at his teeth as his heavy boots kicked open the seat to a foldable, his meaty hand scrunching up his pant leg as he took a seat, legs spread, one hand subtly patting his thigh, the other resting on the edge of the table, his fingers uncurling the cig from behind his ear.

It was only hot when Barry did it. The difference being he didn't have to try, this guy would call you over, but you would already be at Barry's side. When he would lean back against his seat, chin up, you'd sit on, sometimes straddling his lap. Your eyes would be on his or pressed against his shoulder with his arm slung over your shoulders or hanging off your hips. His lips, planting soft, wet kisses on you, especially that little spot just behind your ear, or the base of your shoulder. Bonus points for if he was busy, how all his features set in determination was a different kind of feeling.

You ate that shit up.

But not with this guy. He's no Barry.

Still you couldn't resist, calculated steps forward, you pulled up a chair, the floor creaking beneath you as you dragged it before him, turning it to face him, yet still you stand.

"See, now you're teasing," he muttered, the gears of his lighter flicking in his hand, the spark lapping at the swollen top, his chapped lips pressed to the end of it, taking a deep breath as his thumb pocketed the flame.

You didn't smile, instead you remained indifferent at this, your knuckles wrung against the head of the chair, the back of your hand providing cushion for your chest as you leaned against your knuckles, moving your breasts up and his eyes down.

Soon you spoke, maintaining eye contact, though your peripheral caught his hand squeezing the crotch of his pants. "Now, why," you paused leaning toward, pushing heavily against your hands, "would I do that?"

A chute of smoke hit your face as he sucked in a breath, his knee wobbled side to side and his other leg extended, "why? I'll tell you why?"

You tilted your head, wiggling your hand to free it up, resulting in the jiggle of your breasts, small, but noticeable. And you could see it now, his slick words rolling right off his tongue and into his pants. "I'm listening," you hummed, nodding to him.

His body shifted against the seat, seeing you lean further forward, your fingers drawing a slow line up the table, over to his side, you hand ever so smoothly grazed over his forearm, causing the twitch in his wrist to capture yours. "That's not nice," his voice deep and gravelly, the cigarette once again being brought to his lips.

Honestly, you weren't a fan of the aftershave, he looks ruggish, but he smells off brand, atleast for your liking, and how he wore his obviousness, like a badge of honor. Like his dated watch could compete with a gold chain.

Barry's gold chain.

Your fingers closed around the plastic wrapped box you had been reaching for, and you drew your arm away, now thumbing over the bold Marlboro print. "That's," you flipped the lid back, plucking one from the near empty casing, "not my problem," and you headed outside to the porch.

Barry leaned against his chair, one hand propped behind his head, the other resting in his lap as he watched Rafe do another line, flicking his nose with his thumb. He then looked at you, standing in the doorway watching.

You tilted your head at him, then leaning down to press the cigarette to Barry's lips, his eyebrows cinched together and his hand came to his lips, the index and middle holding it close to his mouth, "you up now?" He asked, his eyes flicking up to your face.

Another thing you loved about him, he was respectful. Even if it was unserious, his eyes would always be on yours, no matter if you were feet away or you inches. He did like to be all over you though, when you weren't talking.

" 'Course," you responded, pressing a kiss to his cheek. He shrugged, grabbing a lighter off the cluttered table, clearing the seat beside him for you to sit.

Rafe watched the interaction, scrunching his face up. You didn't usually sit around with Barry's clients, most despite an obvious addiction not knowing how to handle the chemicals they're inhaling, but Rafe was different.

Some rich local who had no business around here, but was way closer to Barry other than yourself, that's what made business fun, when he came around. Flashing his little tight shirts, pocketful of cash, and always got something to say. Makes you wonder why he spent most of his afternoons here anyways.

You sat down beside Barry, rather than kicking your feet up on the coffee table you swung your legs over his, resting your thighs right over his lap, earning another eye roll from Rafe.

You noticed, throwing your arm over the end of the couch, "problem, Rafe?" In which Barry looked up at you and him. "Keep all the PDA shit inside, I've seen enough already," he grumbled, running his hand over his face.

"Yeah? try knocking next time, country club," Barry muttered, reaching for a band. "You don't have a door," he sassed, watching Barry count the money.

True, but all of those unwanted encounters were avoidable. "Then stand your ass on the porch til I come out," you both know that wouldn't have happened if he didn't interrupt when he did.

Rafe rolled his eyes, again. He knew better than that, and he's lucky. Most would've gotten kicked out for interrupting, even charged extra if they were insistent on watching, not that it would happen, but money was good.

You, however, wanted to spite Rafe.

It wouldn't do much, but you drew your leg back, you knee solidly supporting one hand now, the other following suit, but you made sure to add pressure across Barry's growing erection. His hips wiggled against the seat, trying to ignore the sensation, but you repeated this motion a couple of times, hearing the flutter of the cash in his hand stop as he pulled the next bill, his eyes lazily scanning over it, but more focused on what you're doing to him.

And that little Cheshire grin wasn't helping.

Rafe watched, his head falling to his shoulder, an unimpressed expression on his face as he crossed his arms, watching you too.

And it escalated from there, your leg now hooking beneath his, you steadied yourself against his shoulders, pulling yourself into his lap fully. You squeezed your thighs together, feeling his muscled legs through his shorts, moving your hips forward and back again.

He began recounting, now holding the money behind your back as you slowly rocked your hips against his, your head now fell back, lips parting as you looked to Rafe, watching his nose upturn and lips curl into a pout. You let a noise that resembled a whimper and Rafe sprang up, keeping an eye on you two. It wasn't even genuine, it was just to piss him off, and it did as he hastily reached in his back pocket, fumbling with his wallet he pulled out a couple crumpled bills, throwing them into the table.

Barry still seemed in his own world, now bringing his arm around the side of your neck, he brought the money closer to count, Rafe drumming against his leg, waiting to be dismissed. You slipped the half smoked stick from his lips, ashing it out against the couch cushion, flicking the butt somewhere.

"Seriously, man, I don't know how you do this," he commented, watching Barry press a kiss against your temple. "Easy, it's my lady," and that response earned him a sloppy kiss on the lips, partly from him trying to regain focus and you snatching his attention back.

With a wave, Rafe was off to his bike, sparing you a glance before jamming his helmet on.

Your tongue had come out, since Barry was busy, you decided to kiss his cheeks, down, nibbling on his jaw, and especially trailing it back up with more kisses. While you still had an audience, you unwrapped your hands from around his back, bringing them to his face, his eyes following your movements as you squished his cheeks, tongue out, pressing against his warm skin, lapping at the curve of his face, to a patch way off to the side that had been reddened by the sun, sheen with sweat the tip of your tongue moved from his jaw to his temple, you lips closing to another peck.

You could hear Rafe speed off in the distance, turning your head to see him flipping you off as you did so, you chuckled, turning back to Barry.

His face may not have given anything away, but his hardness pressing against you definitely did. And soon after he rolled everything up, he tossed it into the seat cushion to reorganize for later instead his strong hands scooping you up, off his lap, his hand squeezed your ass as he carried you inside.

The guy from earlier watching in the corner, you had seen, pulling away briefly to stare, Barry too had noticed, nodding his head towards the door, indicating he should leave. Once he did, stumble out, beer in hand. Barry talked about charging him later, but for how he was focused on your hands slipping beneath his shirt, running over his chest, and fluttering down his back, the shirt riding up as you did so.

Word count: 1402

A/n; I'm proud of this (hope I did this properly) tiny last minute editing.

Warnings; bad day, angst with a happy ending, Rafe being boyfriend material pet name (pretty girl) hurt x comfort

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Rafe Cameron, prideful, persistent, and above all punctual.

Admirable, aggravating.

When Rafe texted you and said he was coming by, you knew that meant 10 minutes max, before he would be knocking on your door.

You were paniced, reasonably so. You had just stepped out of what was supposed to be a relaxing shower, your skin pricked with goosebumps as the cold air hit your exposed skin.

10 minutes, and here you were debating if you wanted to respond or not, but anything was better than staying at that house any longer.

Love would not be enough restraint for you if you had to deal with another one of your family's feuds.

It soon hit you that time was ticking, your hands tossing your phone into the pile of pajamas you were in earlier as you quickly got to work dying yourself off.

As soon as he approached the porch you appeared in the doorway, a soft smile tugged at his lips seeing you standing there.

Hips leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, and your beautiful face staring expectantly into the distance.

Even still he walked up the creaky steps, hands open to relieve you, but when you remained planted, eyesight shifting towards his polo, the closed collar underlining his broad chest, and muscles caught your gaze.

He countered the hug within distance, slugging an arm around your shoulder, he leaned down, pressing his cold lips against your heated skin, causing your cheeks to bubble, lips pursing in a supressed smile. "Missed me didn't you?" He cooed, the keychain circling his index jiggled, the tip of his finger teasing the underside of your jaw.

You stiffened at the action, taking the first step forward, muttering a quiet 'sure'.

"Ahha," he chuckled dryly, following your lead.

Even if you didn't share the enthusiasm he was happy to see you.

You approached the car, Rafe cutting you off mid step to pull back the handle, the dark paint job facing you now as you scoffed playfully circling the door.

"After you milady," You rolled your eyes at his antics, kicking one foot into the car, the other followed by your chin pressing sharply into your chest as you ducked the roof of the car, settling side.

You wiggled in your seat, immediately reaching for the seatbelt, pulling it smoothly across your chest.

You let out a breath you were holding. Had it got stuck or you couldn't adjust it just right and you had to wrestle it, you'd scrap the whole car. Even if it wasn't yours, you were especially fragile right now.

Rafe got in the driver’s side, the engine roared to life at the twist of his hand, a triumphant grin crossed his face, his nose scrunching as he did so, looking at you excitedly.

Would it be rude to ask why he was so...energetic...today?

The answer?

He saw it.

Through his tinted shades currently sitting in his cupholder.

The attitude in your body language, the shift of weight from one leg to the other, the strain in your formerly guarded form, the unhappiness in your features, and especially the wrinkles siding beside the corner of your eyes. They weren't from smiles, but from heavy glaring.

And smiles would be evident in the way your cheeks pigmented a visible tone after long periods of laughter, and how puffy the corners of your mouth got.

It didn't at all sound attractive when he brought it up to you, but he explained his admiration for your joyous nature, and how when you smiled you smiled big.

And despite your objection in his words, your lips wavered, peeling back into the corners of your face, showing him just what he thought to be true.

"Did you..." You paused, his attention immediately turning on you. "Have you been hanging around Barry again?" Was the only respectful way you could ask.

He didn't take offense, instead braced his hands against the steering wheel, "No," he drew out, putting the car in reverse.

You nodded, awkwardly placing your hands in your lap.

At first being home free helped. Something about the drive around, loud music, and sea salt in the air had made you forget the knot swelling inside various places.

Just as progress was made a flip switched.

It was the song playing on the radio. Something you didn't care to remember because you felt it.

Those sick, unwell feelings form in the pit of your stomach at the words, and now more than ever a raw intensity pulling within you drawing you back to a place of anger.

A place of hurt.

Rafe noticed at first, it was subtle. The head nodding, rolling your eyes as he turned the volume up. He paid attention.

He knew these.

He knew you.

Then a couple miles down, you were singing along, looking as you did do, but he could feel you loosening up.

But just as fast as it appeared it stopped.

He turned the music down, hoping you would continue, but you didn't.

Back to silent nodding and now something else. Your eyes. They were blinking... rapidly.

Now he knew something was up. Something heavy.

Little did he know the events of the morning lingered a dense electric gray over your head, and rain would soon pour from your clouded irises.

"Did something happen? You're all sad and,"

"And shit," you responded, tilting your head back.

"Yeah... all sad and...shit," as you had not so eloquently put it.

"It's nothing," by now it was everything.

"That doesn't sound right," he countered, his foot applied pressure towards the break, the wind breaking acceleration had decreased to the speed limit at best.

And you held back a couple of tears, but that didn't stop strays, warm against your skin. You could feel a burning in the top of your nose, and a climbing temperature around your ears indicating you were about to cry.

"Do you want to talk about it? I can listen," he offered.

You simply sniffled, you palmed up, roughly pushing against your skin, wiping tears. "Do you even know where we're going? We've passed that same park like three times," you said referring to the open field with 101 benches placed too close together.

Sometimes your deflection could be ignoring his question, answering vaguely, or in this case, insulting his navagation skills.

"No, no," he played along, "That's the country club, it's got an expansion, pretty much every road has a view of it."

That actually makes sense now.

Still.

He continued to examine you, your body language.

It was just as tense as before, if not more.

Your little breakdown had only gone on for a quick minute and then you were back to being stone.

If only he could turn you into statue.

Unlike your earlier suggestion before you the dizzy world had slowed and vision returned.

Not before the sight of a concerned smile, his hand parked over the steering wheel, the other resting on the armrest, his torso twisted to meet you.

This time he didn't try to convince you, he let his sad, pretty eyes manipulate you into a sharing state.

"It's just not my day today," you confessed, a little bob in your head confirming that.

"Well, we can change that," his ringed fingers found there ways rubbing against your salted skin swiping tears.

He leaned forward, his lips pressing to your cheekbone, lingering over your skin, the edge of his nose rubbing up the bridge of yours, traveling kisses planted on you in various spots.

He made it to your hair, letting out a hum, tilting his head against yours, making himself level with you, you looked up through your eyelashes to find his comforting gaze on you already, promising better.

Amist the intimate gesture he leaned into it, his elbow honking against the wheel, a bold whistle vibrated through the car, making you jump.

You felt his long lashes tickle your cheek, an embarrassed sigh left him, his forehead still pressed against your face.

And while he thought the accidental honking had ruined the slow, intimate vibe, it tickled you.

His reaction of resignation and reserveness had made it better, and you couldn't hide the smile on your face, the peaks of your teeth peering through and a hearty laugh escaping you.

Rafe carefully kissed your jaw once more, slipping back into his seat, both hands holding the seatbelt at the chest, as he was still fixated on you.

You were smiling.

Rafe made a face, to which he followed up with "there she is," and the mellowness of his tone was enough to make you melt.

"There's my pretty girl."

Ft OBX and the Bahamas finest

Barracuda wasn't that bad, but he's not good either.

Excluding Barry and Rafe, I will happily throw Topper and Kelce's irrelevant ass in next poll.

And Papa Heyward was the best

Last two are SERIOUSLY debatable, but peoples choice, so choose wisely.

The Winter Recital

A/n; this was so rushed, I am so sorry, I tried

Warnings; fluff?

"How do we plan three weeks in advance, and you're still unprepared?" Rafe grumbled, watching you toss through your closet. "In my defense," you didn't miss his teasing glare, daring you to justify it," a lot can change in three weeks."

You are headed up to St. George in Bermuda for the holidays, exquisite, isn't it?

Kildare had a history of celebrating Christmas, but their more glamorous festivities are usually around summer and spring.

Not that you minded, but this was you and Rafe's 2nd Christmas together. And it had to be nothing like the last one."I'll buy you something when we get there, if we can get there," Rafe offered, tugging you out of your closet.

It's just nerves. He was also escaping his family for the holidays.At least until New Years. Somehow, Rafe had managed to get you out the front door and out to the dock where your ride awaited. You skipped ahead, now your turn to urge your boyfriend along.

"Cool your jets," he was being weighed down by the luggage you wanted to bring. The only thing of his he carried was his wallet. Lord knows he would need it. Especially when you had wanted to double the 20% tip he was already leaving the driver. The cabin was quaint and festive, ribbons tied above the door and looped throughout the staircase in bright green and scarlet. It smelt of pine and cinnamon as you were led through the house, admiring the decor as you did.

It was so homey, and Rafe knew it was perfect when you disappeared up the stairs, leaving him to haul your luggage through the doorway. "I'm never going back home" was your official declaration. And that wasn't even the best part. Amist raiding the insanely sweet hygiene products, in the bedside the you found a holiday card for the guests of cabin 8, "Rafe," You called, hearing his hurried steps, you chuckled to yourself, flipping the card over. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"Nothing, everything is perfect," you handed over the card, watching a defeated sigh leave his lips, but a look of curiousity flash as he skimmed over it's contents.

"Okay? It's just a welcome card." Just a welcome card? "It's scented," you snatched it back scratching at the back, your dull nails denting the card, rather then the patch.Rafe sighs, tossing you his keys which you fumbled but then caught.

"Why did you bring these?" "That's what you're worried about? They're my house keys, they were coming with me even if we went to the North Pole." There was his Christmas spirit.You shrugged at the point, racing the keys over the card, bringing it up to your nose, inhaling deeply. He simply watched, a slight scrunch in his nose, watching you cuddled paper.

"It can't be that good," he grumbled, stepping forward to be met with your shoulder as you turned away.

"It's better than your cologne," you teased, to which his smile sank into a pout, "you love my cologne," "Yeah, but..." You drew out, another long, excessive inhale, "This is my new favorite." The parchment was ripped from your face, folded half heartedly, "enough of that," he hummed, tucking the card into his pocket.

"Don't be sad," he wrapped his massive arms around you, rendering yours to your side, his heavy head falling against your squared shoulder.

You tried to shake him off, managing a slight twist before giving up. You were only getting out if he let you out.And strangely enough he did.Something replaced the warmth of the scented card, something stronger, muskier and thick. Rafe's cologne. "Now I smell like you," "and you love it," he argued.

The night went on like that, playful banter, and gentle affections, eventually you crashed in the living room by the the brick fireplace.Rafe wandered down the steps in a low hanging towel, another working at his wet hair, his attention landed on your curled up form on the couch. You're resting in front of your unopenned briefcases splayed out on the fur rug.

To his surprise you were in one of his flannel curled up against the velvet couch.

"You packed three suitcase just to wear my clothes?" he scoffed playfully, picking up a shirt of the floor. The next morning you two woke up snug on the couch, your head in Rafe's lap and his arm around your shoulders.

"Hey, hey," he gently whispered nudging your shoulder, "Merry Christmas," his lips ghosted over the she'll of your ear.

Your elbow jerked into his stomach instinctively, earning a groan into your ear. He leaned back scooting against the couch, resting his head against the pillows.

Don't worry, he's was gleefully dancing around the kitchen to some old vinyl you found, and making hot chocolate late into the day.

And it wasn't all bad, you took a walk around the town, visiting stations, and you spent time in the store spending Rafe's money.

At that point he had trade you his wallet so he could carry all of your bags.

You returned back to your cabin after all of that and crashed to watch some holiday movie waiting for nightfall.

When it did you asked Rafe to help you pick an outfit to which he kept responding "you look great in anything."

It was frustrating as it was flattering.

You ultimately ended up with fur coat, (Rafe's) and a sweater dress with wool leggings, just in case it gets cold. And it does, but it also snows, Rafe's hand holding yours as you walk side by side, your other hand smearing it from every availabe surface.

You go out, party, dance, but your favorite part of the night was the couple's cooking contest. To participate in your favorite tradition of the night, and to also be with the one you love unlike last year.

Now the cooking was slightly over cooked, but it looked pretty. You didn't win, but you had fun. You did however get voted for best chemistry, earning you a wreath around your neck, wrapped in ornaments, chesnuts and a classic mistletoe.

"You owe me a kiss," Rafe teased, to which you scoffed, nudging his shoulder.

"Under the mistletoe, remember?"

Rafe grumbled beneath his breath, his hand reaching for your arm, "What're you doing?" you asked, feeling him squeeze your elbow.

"Mistletoe, remember?" He carefully picked you up, you squealed your feet leaving the ground.

Still, you attempted to balance yourself against his shoulders, resting your arms, his hand wrapped around your waist, the other sliding up your back, guiding your head down to his.

And you share a gentle kiss, his lips cool against yours, and your tension melts, allowing you to soften in his grasp. He smiles against your lips, letting out a breath of cold air, "ready to take this back to the cabin?" You nodded against him, leaning back in.

A winter recital

(Rafe Christmas special)

Posting tomorrow

A/n hopefully you enjoy it and happy holiday🎄

in the meantime

If I write Wally Clark x reader, Rafe Cameron x Reader, Dean Winchester x Reader, Eddie Munson x Reader, etc. here ranging from fluff to smut to angst would you read it?

OBX3 SPOILERS

BRO I CANT BELIEVE THEY ENDED THE FINALE ON THE CLIFFHANGER WHYD KIARA SHOOT CLEO INSTEAD OF RAFE I KNEW TO NEVER TRUST A BITCH W A WHITE MOM

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader

Warnings: Smut of all kinds, this is filthy and sad, angst, like heartbreaking angst

Word Count: 1.7k

A/n: Anon requested this one! "Can you please do a Rafe Cameron imagine where the reader is a Pogue and has a secret friends with benefits with Rafe, which was going well until they started catching feelings for each other and became increasingly jealous. Thank you so much!" I love this angsty, smutty, fluffy thing- it's so fun.

"Rafe, fuck." I breathe, face crashing onto the bed as he drills into me from behind, large hands bruising my hips as he thrusts in and out of me with an evil laugh.

"Talk to me, baby." He coos, his voice the opposite of his rough touch as his hand soothes up my spine to wrap his fingers around the back of my neck, pulling me back against him, my back flattening against his chest.

"Feels so good." I grit, tears billowing behind my eyes as I reach out to wrap my arms around his neck, fingers fisting some of his hair while I try desperately to ground myself to him- to anything. "You're so deep."

"Wanna be deeper." His lips skim desperately against my chest as he searches for my lips, our lips meeting in a messy kiss that seems to satisy both of our hunger to be impossibly closer. "Missed you all day. I wanted nothing more than to be between these thighs- most perfect fucking place in the whole goddamn world."

"I-"

"What was that? Couldn't hear you." Rafe cuts me off, hand slipping down the front of my body to play with my clit, rubbing fast circles over the sensitive bundle of nerves with no remorse, my jaw dropping in a loud moan. My head falls back against his shoulder, unable to hold myself up anymore as I slump against him.

"Fuck you." I hiss, gripping onto anything I can, feeling Rafe's hand flatten on my back as he presses me against the mattress once more, the slapping of his hips against mine and the low music are the only things to be heard in the room.

"That's what you're doing, sweetheart. You want more?"

"Yes, more, please." I beg, fingers twisting up in the sheets as I can feel my orgasm sneaking up on me, heat spreading throughout my core as my legs begin to tremble.

"Greedy fucking girl." I tip over the edge with a dropped jaw, feeling Rafe right behind me as he spills into me, his whole body hunching over mine as he groans loudly, fingers leaving bruises in my waist as he catches his breath.

I've barely registered that he's slipping out of me and slipping on his shirt when I'm coming out of my post-orgasm haze, my hands rubbing at my eyes as I beg myself to ask him for a hug or something, anything to show that he cares about me but he just turns to me, holding his hand up.

"I'll see you at the party?" I give his extended hand a high five with a half assed nod, clutching the shirt he tosses my way to my chest.

"That's all?" I ask with a breathless sigh, tilting my head dumbly at him.

"Anything else you want?"

"A kiss." He laughs at my puckered lips and his eyes roll in fake annoyance but there's still a shit eating grin on his lips as he leans down towards me.

"Ugh, I guess." He whines, pressing a longing kiss to my lips, lingering a bit before giving my nose a peck. "See you later, sweetheart."

--

I watch them from across the room, the pretty blonde seated atop Rafe's lap with no hesitation, pouring a shot between his lips. Kie is talking to me but I'm not listening to a word she's saying, my eyes locked on Rafe and Rafe alone as he shoots me a wink.

I'm on my feet in a moment, jealousy consuming me and I no longer can bare looking at him and feeling the possessiveness that I'm consumed by and I make it out to the driveway by the time I feel Rafe's fingers wrapping around my wrist, tugging me back into him.

"Hey, hey, hey, where are you going?" He asks, trying to reach up to cup my cheeks but I bat him away, shoving him away from me with an angry groan.

"I'm leaving, Rafe." I try to fumble with my keys to start my car, pressing the alarm button so I can find it in the sea of cars but Rafe snatches my keys from me and holds them over my head. Asshole.

"C'mon- fuck, stop. Come back to the party, we'll have some fun." He offers with a sickly sweet smile. "Wanna fuck?"

"Rafe-"

"C'mon, let me fuck that attitude right out of you." His hands slide down to my hips, pulling me flush against him and he almost convinces me to stay just from the look in his eyes.

"I'm not in the mood." I huff, smacking him away again as his brows furrow deeply, hands now settled at his side, his eyes uncomfortably sweeping over my tense frame.

"You're always in the mood."

"Yeah well I'm in a mood, just not the one you want me to be in." I smile bitterly, going to turn around again but he runs in front of me, blocking my way and my view of the cars in the distance.

"Hey," he whispers softly, "talk to me." I can feel tears bubbling behind my eye lids as I stare down at the blacktop, thinking of what to say to him to get him to go away, not wanting to confront him and my feelings at the same time.

"You should be careful, wouldn't want you to be seen with me."

"I- what?" He turns his head to look back at the party with a scoff, eyes squinting under the bright sun that's setting above us. "You really think I care about that? That other people care about that?" He asks and I nod, sticking to my gut, settled on pushing him away the best that I can. "I think the disputed narcissism and coke addiction will upset people before me fucking a pogue upsets anyone."

"I can't do this right now." I scoff, stepping away from him as his face pales in fear and I feel my aching heart drop to my stomach.

"You're really freaking me out." He breathes shakily. "Are you dumping me?" If I didn't know him any better, I'd think he was wounded and actually hurt by the mention of no longer seeing me and based on the redness in the whites of his eyes, I'm starting to doubt how much I know him.

"Nothing to dump, there's nothing between us, right?" I lie.

"Right." He looks as if I slapped him across the face, his jaw clenching as he takes a tentative step away from me with a deep frown. He scoffs once more before spinning around on his heel and he begins to walk away but turns right back around. "You know what- fuck you." He juts a finger in my direction and I feel my heart sink to my stomach. "I don't open up, I don't keep people around unless I want to." He finally cracks, tears filling his eyes in frustration. "I keep you around because I want to keep you around!"

"Go keep Ashely around or whatever that bimbo's name is."

"You're jealous." He breathes, a lonesome tear slipping down his cheek as my lips part in quiet shock, feeling overwhelmingly stupid all of a sudden that he's able to read me so easily, as if he actually knows me.

"Fuck you."

"You're jealous because you like me and don't want to admit it." He reaches out to me, wrapping his fingers around my upper arms in an attempt to keep me close to him and I don't fight him, feeling frustrated tears lift to my eyes as I frown, not wanting to talk about this right now.

"How could I like you?!" I screech but he grins like a fool, hands reaching up to cup my cheeks in his hands, pulling my body flush against his. "You're brutal, you leave bruises on me every time we fuck which is so annoying, there's absolutely nothing affectionate about you-"

"So, what? You want me to be gentle?" He asks softly, almost as a coo, lip jutting out in a gentle pout as he presses a kiss to my lips, leaving me hanging on the edge, waiting for him to kiss me desperately again after almost losing me.

"You're incapable of being gentle." I whisper against his lips, knowing my words are fake because he's being so soft, so gentle as he kisses my cheeks, back and forth.

"That a bet?" He asks with a wicked smile and I smile bashfully.

"Rafe."

"C'mon." He pleads. "I'm sorry." His words are a whisper against my lips, a pleading, desperate whisper and I nod, apologizing too under my breath. "I want to keep you around, don't want you going anywhere." He holds me as if his words are true, arms wrapped tightly around my back and I smile, letting myself fall into him, no longer mad. "Tell me what I have to do to keep you around."

"Stop fucking hiding me." I whisper against his neck and he nods with a hearty laugh and I can already hear him making fun of me before he even opens his mouth.

"So you wanna be my girlfriend?" He teases, soothing a hand down my back as he grins wolfishly.

"How disgustingly cheesy."

"Hmm?" He hums, finding my eyes again as I soften a bit, giving him a gentle nod. "What do you want? You want everyone here to know I'm yours?" There's a fire behind his eyes that only deepens as I nod desperately, wanting nothing more than for every girl here that's chasing after him to know better than to look at him. "Well I am. Have been since we started fucking."

"Shut up." I giggle, nervously tucking my face in the crook of his neck.

"Shut me up."

Drunk Love

Summary: You get too drunk and your boyfriend Rafe has to take care of you. Fluff, fluff, fluff.

You stumbled through the door, heels in your hand, trying to steady yourself against the wall. You leaned back, watching Rafe walk in after you, steady stride showing the marked difference in your tolerance levels. Hadn’t you had the same amount to drink?

His shoe scuffed slightly against the floor and you let out a loud, harsh “Shh” in the darkness, making his face whip up to yours incredulously.

“Me shh? You shh! You just woke the whole neighbourhood trying to get your key in the door.” he argued back, his voice an actual whisper compared to your stage whisper.

You rolled your eyes, dropping your heels to the floor, ignoring Rafe’s desperate scramble to catch them before they hit the cold marble and woke up his deaf neighbour four streets away.

He’d just placed them gently down when he heard the glasses clattering in the kitchen.

“Jesus Christ,” he shot back up and started towards you, taking the glass out your hand right as you were about to fill it with your dads favourite whiskey.

“Hey!”

“I think you’ve had enough tonight, baby. Let me take you to bed, okay?” Rafe was still whispering, voice soft like he was trying to coax a scared animal.

You raised an eyebrow and giggled.

“To bed? My, my, Cameron, you haven’t even bought me dinner.”

He grabbed your elbow gently, leading you towards the stairs.

“I’ve bought you like a thousand dinners, and right now we are going to go to bed to sleep. Okay? Sleepy time.”

“Boring,” you sang, wondering if the hallway had always been this blurry.

He managed to get you into your room without waking anyone, depositing you on your bed before gathering you clothes to change into and grabbing your make-up remover. He came back into the room to see you twisting your arms around your back, trying to grab at your bra.

“See, not so easy when you’re drunk, is it?” He joked, laughing at how your head whipped around to his, puppy dog eyes trained on him.

“Please help me.”

He set your stuff down next to you before coming over and helping you change.

“Arms up,” he pulled your dress over you head, unhooked your bra with ease like he’d done a thousand times and slid your clean clothes on.

You sighed happily, thanking him, before lying down and snuggling your face into the covers.

“Woah, hey, no, no, sit up. Come on,” he ignored your grumbling to pull you back up. “Baby, you’d kill me if I let you sleep in make-up.”

You groaned unhappily but stayed seated while he wiped your face for you, flinching at the cold.

“Sorry,” he whispered.

You opened your eyes staring at his face as he concentrated, and it struck you in that moment how lucky you’d gotten. You leaned forward to kiss him, pouting when he leaned away.

“Hey, no, baby let me do this, okay, I’m gonna take an eye out here if you don’t stay still,” he muttered, rubbing at your eyeliner.

After another few minutes, he pulled away.

“All done. You can sleep now, you big baby.”

“Can I have a kiss first?” you mumbled, feeling sleep start to overtake you.

He rolled his eyes, smiling at you softly before leaning in and planting a gentle kiss on your lips, your cheeks, your forehead.

“Mmm. Perfect. Okay. I’m going to sleep now.” You flopped back down, pulling the covers over your head, and Rafe laughed before standing to get himself ready for bed, pulling his shirt off.

“Wait!” You gasped, head shooting back up, causing Rafe’s heart to jump out of his throat, turning to you in panic.

“What?!”

“I forgot to say I love you.”

He sighed, hand on his chest, trying to calm the pounding.

“Jesus, baby, you’re gonna kill me one day.”

“Sorry! I love you.”

“I love you too. Now go to sleep, you mess.”

He watched you settle back down, asleep within seconds, mouth slightly open and a light snore seeping through, and he thought you’d never looked so damn beautiful.

red lipstick | rc

| pairing: (non canon) rafe cameron x female reader

| genre: fluff, college rafe, halloween fic

| content warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol/drinking, mentions of food, a few tears

| précis: you get your boyfriend to dress up with you.

| word count: 1,512

You could barely believe it yourself when your boyfriend agreed to coordinate costumes with you.

Well, scratch that—you could believe it, but it was the particular costume you’d chosen that he agreed to—that shocked you.

Keep reading

like i would | rc

| pairing: (non canon) rafe cameron x female reader

| genre: fluff, boyfriend rafe, rafe calls his gf baby like 100 times

| content warnings: mentions of being sick, tears lol, mentions of food

| précis: your boyfriend takes care of you while you’re under the weather.

| word count: 1,184

| a/n: im sick rn so posting this from my drafts

The first thing Rafe notices when he gets home is silence. If you’re home before him (which he knows you are today), you usually call out a greeting from wherever you are, to let him know that you’re there.

So, when he calls out your name and gets nothing in response, it’s safe to say he’s a little worried. He slowly walks to  the bedroom, where he, insert relieved sigh, finds you curled up underneath the comforter.

Keep reading

I also love your kook group x reader! Can you do one where rafe x reader start secretly dating and topper and kelce find out?

more than friends | rc

| pairing: (non canon) rafe cameron x reader, platonic topper thornton x reader, platonic kelce x reader

| genre: fluff, college au, kook friend group

| warnings: language, mentions of food

| word count: 1,286

You weren’t even sure when the feelings had started. You and Rafe had always been a little flirty with each other. You used to blame it on the fact that he was the newest addition to your friend group, not already used to the sibling-like dynamic that you shared with Topper and Kelce.

Nothing actually happened for years, other than the casual flirting that never went unnoticed by the other boys. It was one night, when the four of you were back home for the summer. You all attended the same university on the mainland, but that didn’t mean you wouldn’t spend every waking second with each other over the summer. Topper was out to dinner with his parents, and Kelce was stuck babysitting his little sister. Rafe had invited all of you over to watch movies in his basement, the massive flat screen and reclining chairs making it the perfect spot for your movie nights.

The tension between the two of you was so heavy you could feel it crackling in the air. You spent a painful thirty minutes watching Jaws, retaining absolutely nothing because all you could focus on was the boy sitting next to you.

And suddenly, movie forgotten, your lips were on Rafe’s as you were climbing over the armrest to straddle his lap.

The two of you had agreed on two things: One—that it wasn’t just a one-time thing and two—that you couldn’t tell Kelce and Topper. You honestly didn’t think they would have a problem with it, but you weren’t ready to face the constant teasing that would surely ensue once you tell them.

Fast forward, you and Rafe had been keeping your relationship a secret for a few months now, a little easier now that you were back on campus and had more spots you could meet and not run into your friends.

Kelce and Topper weren’t stupid though. They had an inkling that something might be going on between the two of you, but they couldn’t prove it. Lingering touches, and gazes when you thought no one was paying attention, had helped to guide them in their suspicions.

“Your door’s locked right?” You whisper, cuddling against your boyfriend.

He nods, pressing a kiss to your forehead. Rafe, Topper, and Kelce shared an apartment, and the boys often barged into each other’s rooms without a second thought, so a locked door was crucial to your not getting caught.

Almost as if you predicted it, a fist bangs on the door, less than a moment later, a loud shout of Rafe’s name reverberating in the room.

“Fuck do you want Top?” Rafe calls, sending you an apologetic smile.

“Kelce and I are bored. I think we’re gonna go to that bar down the street. You wanna come?”

Normally Rafe can never turn down an offer to go to a bar or party, and drink with his friends. But right now, you’re in his bed and he cares way more about that.

“Not tonight man, I think I’m gonna nap, I’m not feeling great.”

“Okay.” Topper responds, heading into the kitchen where Kelce is. “Let’s see what ____’s up to.”

“I already texted her.” Kelce pipes up. “She said she’s busy.”

Topper sighs. “Alright guess it’s just us then.”

Rafe wants to tell Topper and Kelce about your relationship. From day one, he was fine with it being out in the open. He claims that they like you too and they need to know you’re taken, but you don’t want to ruin your friend group dynamics.

“They’re gonna make fun of us!” You whine against his chest, pulling his duvet over your head.

“They already do!” He chuckles, chest rumbling under your head. “And baby, you’re the meanest out of all of us. They’re gonna be too scared to make fun of you.”

“No, I’m not.” You pout, poking his chin.

“Hm, you kinda are.” He hums, straining his neck to kiss the tip of your nose. “Remember when you made Topper cry during basketball?”

“I was twelve, Rafe,” You groan. “And he didn’t catch the ball.”

“And you yelled at him at recess, I know, I remember all of it.” He can’t stop the laughter that tumbles from his lips. “I wouldn’t mess with you mamas.”

“Shut the fuck up,” You pout, shoving at his shoulder.

bro

can we get ice cream when ur done w class

i’ll buy

rafael (affectionate): bro

rafael (affectionate): yes we can

rafael (affectionate): ur not buying tho

fuck u

yes i am

As soon as Rafe is done with class, he texts you, and the two of you meet at your favorite spot for ice cream. Rafe grabs the corner booth while you go up to order both of your favorites. He’d shoved his wallet in your hand before letting you go up, but it’s at the bottom of your purse now—your card already in your hand.

Once you have both ice cream orders, you walk to the table, a smug smile on your face. Instead of taking the seat across from him, you slide into the booth he’s in, nuzzling up against his side.

“Thank you.” He murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before starting on his ice cream. You rest your head on his shoulder while he tells you something that happened in his chem lab that day.

Eventually, the bell above the door dings, catching your attention. Save for you and Rafe, it’s been empty, and you’re a little curious.

Familiar voices fill your ears and you’re putting it together, the wide-eyed look on Rafe’s face being the final piece of the puzzle.

Kelce and Topper. Fuck.

“What the fuck?” Kelce mumbles, meeting your gaze.

“Hey guys,” You cough out, waving awkwardly.

“Y’all were hanging out without us?” Topper asks sadly.

“No Top, ya fucking idiot.” Kelce sighs, running his hand over his face. “They’re together. Like dating.”

“Well, I—” You pipe up, in attempt to cover yourself.

Kelce raises an eyebrow. “Am I wrong?”

You drop your head. “No.”

Kelce sighs, dropping into the booth.

“Are you mad?” Rafe wonders.

“No.” Kelce shakes his head. “Y’all are my best friends and I want you to be happy.” He looks at Topper who nods in agreement. “However, I have a couple of ground rules.”

“Rules? Kelce you’re not my dad, you can’t—”

“Hush,” He scolds. “As I was saying, no sex while we’re in the house—”

“Uhh,” Rafe chokes out, cheeks blooming bright red.

“Shut up.” You hiss, elbowing his side lightly.

“Ew, what the fuck?” Topper complains.

“And if Rafe hurts ____, we’re kicking his ass.”

“What?” Rafe exclaims. “You really think I’ll hurt her? We’ve all been friends forever, I’m not gonna—”

“Rafe.” This time it’s Topper who cuts him off. “I don’t give a literal shit that we’re all friends, if you break her heart, we’ll drop you so fast it’ll make your head spin.”

“Jesus.” You mutter under your breath.

“Understand?” Kelce asks.

“Yes.” Rafe answers.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes sir.”

A bout of laughter spills from your lips before you can stop it. “Come on Kelce, that’s enough. Now both of you, get the fuck out of here.”

Topper grins sheepishly, sliding out of the booth, Kelce right behind him.

“Remember what we said.” Kelce says, smiling, despite his serious words. He grabs your cup of ice cream, scooping some into his mouth before he and Topper exit the store.

“Fucking idiots.” You groan, leaning your head back against the seat.

“Hey, at least I don’t have to do this in secret anymore.”

“Do what?”

“C’mere.” And then his lips are on yours.

haven’t read it yet but I’ll be back!

as it will be - rafe cameron

You can find my other work here!

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Soulmate! Reader

Warnings: tattoos, slight suggestive content, just overall fluff (let me know if you find something else)

Word count: 3.1K

Synopsis: You’ve had a tattoo on your wrist since you could remember, one that is supposed to match your soulmates’. With an ever evolving tattoo, you question the validity of such a system. That is until you meet Rafe. You meet Rafe Cameron in the library and he suggests you both glimpse at your possible futures together.

a/n: this was inspired by the story The Way We Love Here by Dhonielle Clayton in the book Meet Cute: Some People are Destined to Meet, and this is love by baby-bearie!

—

Finals week always feels particularly stressful, especially to you as you walk into the library. Just locating a table causes you to overthink, which random person will hate you the least if you sit next to them? With lots of thought you finally select a table already occupied by a golden haired boy. As you scoot out the chair diagonal from the boy you make eye contact. You subconsciously trace the set of lines on your wrist, your cheeks heating up at the soft grin he sends you. Something about him already feels so familiar, as if you have known each other for longer than three seconds. 

“Hey,” he whispers across the table to you as you take a seat. Your eyes find his brilliant blue ones before his eyes drift to your wrist, “nice tattoo.”

You glance down at your wrist before replying in a hushed voice, “thanks… I mean, it’s all natural.” You tease, a smile slipping onto your lips. You’re normally much more reserved with strangers but something about this boy makes you speak as though you’re friends. 

He chuckles, tugging down the arm of his sweatshirt. He holds up his left wrist, the same side as yours, which displays the same tattoo as you. “I know what you mean,” he shares, a smirk tugging at his lips. 

Your eyes trace the abstract pattern, a mess of lines that progress over your lifetimes. A flutter of something erupts in your chest, this boy could be your soulmate. You’ve dreamed of who they would be since the very idea was introduced to you in school. “Wow,” you exhale, “I’ve never met someone with the same pattern as me before.”

He nods his head in agreement, “Well in that case, nice to meet you, I’m Rafe Cameron.”

You smile, “And I’m Y/n L/n.”

“Y/n,” Rafe repeats, “It appears this is the start of something new." 

It is now your turn to nod your head, feeling a sense of urgency suddenly. You dig through your backpack, pulling out what you originally came to the library to do, "I hope so, but as of right now it needs to wait. I can’t afford to fail any classes." 

He chuckles, glancing over the multitude of books you pull out of your bag. "I can see that,” he plays, dropping his head back to his own book. You don’t catch the way his cheeks light up pink. 

Blushing, you whine, “Hey! Aren’t you supposed to be nice to me?" 

He shakes his head, looking up through the hair that has flopped over his forehead. 

You lean forward on your elbows, wanting to run your fingers through his hair. Your gut flips when he sends you an impossibly charming grin, "You know I’m just messing with you. What about we take a break in an hour, I’ll leave you alone till then." 

You nod your head, excitement bubbling through you, "Sounds good!" 

—

It is exactly 59 minutes later when your train of thought is interrupted, a excited tone to Rafe’s otherwise quiet voice "Have you ever looked at someone and thought about your possible futures?" 

You blink a few times, lifting your gaze to the boy in front of you. You know exactly what Rafe means once you process his question. There has long been a fairytale that touching matching tattoos together reveals your possibilities with the other person. 

You think back to the obsession of your childhood, finding all of the fables of soulmates. Your parents only found their tattoos to not match when you showed up, flushed cheeks and a head of hair, weighing 6 pounds 4 ounces. "I guess when I was a kid,” you answer, leaving the sob story out of the conversation. If this boy really is your soulmate he’ll be around long enough to hear it. 

Rafe seems more bouncy than an hour ago, his left hand twirling around an orange highlighter in the air. The boy seems to radiate energy, shifting forward in his chair, “What happened to that spirit?" 

You hesitate before rambling out, "You know, life happens. I got older and read more and more about soulmates who didn’t work out or about people born without tattoos. It made me question who or what decides these marks and how much they define everyone’s lives. What makes us more worthy of love than anyone else?" 

Rafe pauses, sucking in a sharp breath, he had never thought of life in such a way. "Maybe different people have different life plans, people who aren’t interested in romantic relationships exist. I don’t think anyone is more worthy of love, just different love." 

"I can’t help but feel that it’s just too imperfect for it to be true, you know?” You glance down at your book, rereading the same sentence you had been stuck on earlier. Your literature class somehow managed to mirror real life. 

Rafe’s wrist adorned with the tattoo plops into your vision, “What would you say if I proposed a deep dive into the inner-workings of soulmates?" 

You lift your gaze, eyes landing on the suddenly still Rafe. His eyes shine with what you can only assume is hope. "What if it doesn’t work?" 

"What if it does? There is only one way to know.” His eyebrows knit together, “What is there to lose?" 

You sigh, placing your own patterned wrist atop his, squeezing your eyes shut. Nothing seems to happen, you are highly aware of the warmth of Rafe’s hand latching onto your wrist. His cool ring contrasts the warmth of his fingers, pulling you back into the reality of the situation. 

You peek your eyes open, catching the lazy grin on Rafe’s lips, his eyes closed. You open your mouth to call him back, realizing the library is where you’ve stayed, only to close it when your surroundings blur. 

Your stomach churns, you’re easily phased by motion, cars, boats, and planes, making your palms sweat. You squeeze your eyes shut again, giving in to the swirling motion you both seem to be traveling in. 

—

You seem to wake up, reality, or whatever this is, hitting you. You sit on your surfboard, the one you left in California with your grandparents. The familiar scent of the ocean washes over you, the feeling of home rapidly trails behind. 

You kick your feet under the board, looking down at the white wetsuit you don’t recognize. If you had ended up here any other way you would have enjoyed the moment, instead you can’t help but question why. 

Where is the boy who had this idea in the first place? You glance around as much as you can, observing your fellow surfers. As you paddle, turning back towards the beach a tug pulls in your stomach. You paddle towards the beach where you feel you need to be. 

Your eyes are finally met with the now familiar face when your feet touch the sand. Standing on one of your favorite California beaches, Rafe toys with a film camera around his neck. 

"I was looking for you,” he greets you, stepping towards the waves. 

You tuck the board under your arm, jogging up to Rafe, “Me too.” You meet where waves barely brush your  ankles, smooth sand between your toes. 

Rafe glances you up and down. Something you would normally detest. And yet you don’t feel the need to hit him. Something about the way Rafe is holding your phone makes you suspect you’re there together. 

“You know how to surf? That’s so cool,” Rafe steps forward, his shoulder brushing your board. His eyes meet yours, a blush spreads across your cheeks as you toy with a loop on your wetsuit. 

“My grandparents taught me when I lived with them in middle school,” you respond then look around, “This feels like home, does it to you too?" 

"I didn’t want to make it weird but yeah, I’ve always liked California but I have never felt like this.” He thinks for a minute, glancing down at his left hand. 

No ring sits on his ring finger, something which makes you question what you want. Why did an air of disappointment bubble up in your chest? “We live here,” You share as the realization dawns on you, “And I’ve been waiting for you to propose for a while now." 

Rafe pauses, gaze shifting slightly above you. As his eyes land back on you he tucks the items in his hands into his pockets, coming up with a box instead. "That’s what I was going to do today, I just have bad timing apparently." 

You giggle, "If I wasn’t wet and you didn’t have a camera I would hug you right now." 

"Wet?” Rafe teases in a tone you know you’ll come to love, a smirk playing across his lips. 

Once again you are left to wonder the power this boy already holds over you. If he were any other boy that comment would have earned him a scowl. Instead, you lightly smack his forearm and quip, “way to ruin the moment." 

Rafe slings the camera around to his back. You watch his eyes crinkle as he grins at you, stepping closer as the world begins to spin once again. His arms wrap around your waist, your arms slipping around his upper shoulders. "Bye,” he whispers in your ear. You smile, closing your eyes and enjoying the sensation of time slipping by. 

—

When you open your eyes this time you aren’t feeling as comfortable. Instead of the warmth of the beach, you are met with snow, large chunks falling down before you. You peer out the window, taking in the expanse of white contrasted by a mountain range you don’t recognize. 

Twirling around, you nearly trip over the heavy amount of clothes you are wearing, a long white dress. Today must be your wedding day. 

The door behind you creaks open, someone enters with a limp. The step followed by a heavier one keys you in to who exactly is here. 

“Papa,” you greet, turning towards the door, smiling at the man who raised you. 

He grins at you, taking in the expanse of your dress, “Are you ready?” He questions, “I’m sure you’ve been anxious out of your mind today, ready to take the final step and become Mrs. Woods?" 

You inhale sharply, "Woods?” Rafe’s last name isn’t Woods, where is the boy who you have quickly become attached to in these timelines? 

Your grandpa looks at you, forehead wrinkling as he raises his eyebrows, “What’s wrong?”

You only realize your hand is squeezing your wrist when you look down, freeing it to take a look at the pattern. The mess of lines you had in the library looks starkly different now, a progression of time. You return your eyes to your grandpa, dwelling on the slight sense of comfort he provides, “What about Rafe?" 

"Rafe? You know what happened better than I do, soulmates sometimes don’t work out I guess.” Papa smiles a remorseful smile, his gaze shifting to the snowy landscape. 

You follow his gaze, eyes darting across the cold. If you still feel love for him why didn’t you work out? Why is one of your possible futures a failed romance? 

“I’m ready,” you state, wanting to see who you are set to marry. How does this man compare to Rafe?

Taking your left hand in some sort of formal gesture, Papa guides you to the door he came in. You grab the last bouquet by the door when two helpers open the doors. In front of you is a giant, traditional wedding. You never wanted to have an indoor wedding, your love for nature prevented it.

You both walk down the aisle at an agonizingly slow rate, giving you time to look at each of the guests. Most of your family members take up the right side of the chapel. On the left, plenty of faces who appear to recognize you. Once you reach the stairs up to the wedding party Papa squeezes your hand then drops it, taking his seat in the front. 

Anticipation pulls your gaze up as you take the final few steps. First to the man you are set to marry, the name Seth comes to your mind, then to your bridesmaids. Your best friend steps forward, taking the bouquet from your hand and giving you a smile. As you stop across from your groom, your eyes land on his groomsmen. There, standing in a tux, is Rafe who sends you a sad smile when your eyes finally find him. 

You stumble, tripping over your dress slightly, Seth’s left hand shoots out to catch you. His sleeve rides up, revealing a tattoo vastly different from yours. You know deep down that this timeline doesn’t work out, how could you go and say yes to a proposal if you felt hope for you and Rafe? The simple answer is you couldn’t. 

As Seth takes both your hands in his own, the world slowly begins to tumble. Wanting this timeline to be over as soon as possible, you squeeze your eyes shut. You wait patiently for the next world, hopefully happier this time. 

—

When your senses come back to you, you realize you’re laying on a bed somewhere familiar. A warm weight on your chest and a calm sense of life. You quickly realize who the weight belongs to, Rafe, as you thread your fingers through his hair. You breathe in a deep breath, wanting nothing more than to stay here forever. 

Rafe seems to take a little longer waking up but when he does, you jump. His head picks up quickly, landing on you before both of his arms wrap around your waist, “Oh thank the gods,” he remarks. His head lands right in the middle of your chest as you giggle, arms wrapping around him also. 

You grin, butterflies dancing in your stomach. You quickly forget how the last timeline felt, taking in the love in this one. In the pit of your stomach guilt sits, you caused the timeline where it didn’t work out. “Rafe?” You question with an uneasy tone prompting his head to pick back up. 

He hums, urging you to go on. Eyebrows pulled together, his thumb traces the skin of your waist. You feel some comfort over the way he traces a circle in your skin, warm hands on you. 

“I’m sorry for marrying someone else, I don’t even understand what happened." 

Rafe smiles softly, "Did you still love me? Cause I still loved you, a lot actually." 

You nod your head, smiling. "I just wish we knew what went wrong, you know, I don’t want that to be our timeline.” 

"Good,” he then adds, “And I don’t think it will. As long as we love each other I think any situation can be resolved with enough work. I think people rely too much on being soulmates when all relationships require work.” Rafe shifts, sitting back onto his lower legs. You shiver at the loss of contact, already craving the warmth and comfort of Rafe’s touch. 

You frown at him, crossing your arms to retain some heat, “It’s cold now.” The cold metal feeling of a ring pauses your thoughts as you look at your left hand. Wedding bands sit on your ring finger, matching the one on Rafe’s left hand. You hold up your hand towards him, “We’re married!" 

Rafe’s eyes trace your rings, smiling, he glances to his own hand, "I wouldn’t expect anything less." 

You blush, sitting up some on the couch. Life like this feels sweet to you. 

He chuckles, picking up your legs at the end of the couch. Rafe takes a seat then pats his lap, "I wanna see you." 

You blush once again under his gaze. Sitting on his lap you feel the need to fill the silence. As his thumb traces circles on your waist again, you whisper, "Hi." 

"Hey,” he whispers back, much like his first greeting to you in the library. His eyes leave yours, bouncing to your lips then back, “Can I have a kiss?”

Your stomach flutters at the gentle question, leaning forward as you hum in confirmation. Your lips meet in a soft kiss that quickly sucks you in. Melting at Rafe’s hand which guides your chin slightly higher before cupping your cheek. 

Your hands tangle in Rafe’s hair, pulling slightly on the golden strands. You enjoy the moment and the warmth of his hands pulling you closer. As you pull back slightly to breathe, noses on each other, the world begins to spin again. 

Rafe pulls you closer and whispers, “This is my favorite one yet." 

"Me too,” you agree, pecking his lips before you are both transported somewhere else. 

— 

This time you recognize your surroundings, the library. Your wrists are still touching, it appears not even a minute has passed. You look up at Rafe, grinning when you find his eyes already on you. 

“So,” he whispers, leaning in, “would you say that was a good idea?" 

You look down at your wrists, flipping your hand over to find a new detail. After months of tracing the same pattern over and over you are quick to notice the detail. You scan Rafe’s wrist, finding the same wavy line. "Look,” you trace the new line on his wrist, “Both our patterns have expanded in the same way." 

He shivers at your cold finger, making you smile knowingly at him. His eyes trace the new line on both of your wrists, "We’ve already gained something.” His right hand comes over and squeezes yours in a comforting way. 

You nod your head, realizing the time. The setting sun behind the mountains lights up the library in orange and pink colors. You much prefer this scene out the windows to the snowy one. Turning your attention back to the boy in front of you, you suggest, “why don’t we go get dinner, you can continue to establish what a good idea this was then?”

Rafe nods his head in excitement, pulling his hands away to pack up all of his stuff. You do the same, standing and pulling your backpack on, you wait for him. Once he finishes, he takes your hand and you both walk out into the warmth of the setting sun. Not knowing which timeline you will end up in but both confident it will work out.

—

likes, comments, and reblogs always make my day, thank you for reading! 

Euro Trip (masterlist)

Masterlist for my completed Rafe Cameron/Topper Thornton series - Euro Trip!

Series synopsis: In the summer break preceding college, you and your best friends Kelce and Topper plan a Euro Trip to take before you’re separated in the fall. What happens when Kelce’s father forces him to cancel, and he has to give the ticket to someone (an infuriating someone) else?

Pairing: Rafe x Kook!reader, Topper x Kook!reader

Total word count: 51.9k

Warnings (so far): cursing, drinking (incl underage drinking), some kissing, hinting at smut, lots of angst (but equally as much fluff!)

Part 1: euro trip

Part 2: not your sweetheart

Part 3: past tense

Part 4: isn’t it obvious?

Part 5: do I make you nervous?

Part 6: you’re you, Rafe Cameron

Part 7: i like me better

Part 8: my girl

Part 9: all in

Part 10: home

Related posts: y/n’s story, y/n’s story p2, Rafe’s story, Rafe’s story p2, playlist (made by the INCREDIBLE @r0und3bitch), Topper’s story, y/n’s story p3

Blurbs: the look, super rich kids, Mr Cameron, before the bonfire, real deal

HCs tag!

Prompt list

“Have you got my- you know you can’t just wear my clothes, right?” with fanon!rafe please

warnings: alludes to sex, nudity!

the sound of the lawnmower outside woke you from your sleep. you scrunched your nose at the sound, knowing you wouldn’t be able to fall asleep again and that you would have to get up. you weren’t quite sure why ward insisted on having the grass cut so early in the morning, well, ok, ten isn’t that early. but you were sure you and rafe weren’t the only ones in the house still asleep.

one opening of your eyes tells you that your boyfriend is still sound asleep and you smile softly at just how peaceful and pretty he looks. when he’s awake he’s always stressed and usually a little angry or frustrated. but right now, with the morning sun shining dimly through the white curtain across his face, you’d think he’d never had a single problem in his life.

a door slammed from downstairs and you sighed, knowing you should probably get up. wheezie always asked you to play games or watch movies with her on saturday mornings when you were there and you knew today would be no different. you also knew that you’d rather find her first than have her come in rafe’s room and find the both of you barely clothed. so you carefully lifted yourself from rafe’s hold on your waist, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead as the sheets left you bare to the cold air of the room. you quickly tiptoed to his dresser and pulled out some clothes before making your way into the en-suite bathroom for a quick shower.

the hot water felt nice as it trailed over your skin and you let you body relax for a few moments under it. a sigh escaped your lips before you quietly hummed the song stuck on your mind and reached for the shampoo. rafe used to be one of those guys who used dove three in one but after your first horrendous shower at his house he switched to something both of you could use. you were in the middle of rinsing the soap from your hair wen you heard a light knock on the door. you heard it open before you even had the chance to respond and rafe gruff morning voice broke through the otherwise silent room.

“have you seen my-“ he went silent and just as you were about to pull back the curtain and see what was wrong, he was pulling it back for you. “you know you can’t wear only my clothes right?” he held in one hand the clothes you had picked out to put on after your shower- his shirt, a pair of his sweats, and even a pair of his boxers. unaffected by the whole situation, and the fact that he was still standing in front of you naked, you reached for the conditioner.

“and why do you believe that mr. cameron?”

“why do i- because they’re mine!” you rolled your eyes, finally looking back to him for the first time since he ripped open the shower curtain.

“ok, well, it was my virginity but you took that.” rafe’s jaw dropped and a small smirk appeared on your lips.

“i- you- what?”

“you heard me. now are you going to leave me alone and get dressed or are you going to join me?” you watched as he blinked a few times, obviously still trying to process the question. “rafe!”

i’ll join. i’ll join.” he threw the handful of clothing toward the counter behind him and stepped into the tub with you, finally closing the shower curtain behind him.

“you only get to join if you’re gonna let me wear your clothes,” you smiled. rafe sighed and shook his head but then shrugged.

“well, i’m already here. might as well stay.” you handed him the shampoo with a smile and a small kiss.

“good choice.”

tension // rc

warning; language, underaged drinking, mentions of cheating, mentions of anti depressants but not rly depression, mentions of smut but nothing descriptive, hella angst

summary; you find out the real reason kiara doesn’t hang out with you and the kooks anymore. 

word count; 4.5k+

rafe x reader, platonic!kie x reader, and a sprinkle of rafe x kie

you had been friends with kiara for years. back in middle school, when kiara sat at a table by herself, you shocked your friends by placing your tray directly across from hers and asking her why she chose to sit by herself. 

you knew people that liked kiara, so you knew she wasn’t forced to outcast herself, but you quickly learned that she didn’t like the people at your school. she’d rather save turtles that caught in a plastic bag rather than talk about which swimsuit fit her body the best. 

Keep reading

BABY CUPID; rafe cameron

summary: your little sister decides to play cupid for you and the boy you’re seated with.

warnings: mentions of panic attacks || gif credits to @whumpypepsigal

word count: 1644

author’s note: this has been in my idea outlines for months now since i’ve read this certain twitter thread.

rafe would pay to be anywhere but here.

if it wasn’t for his stupid father, and his stupid business, and his stupid people-pleasing complex, then he wouldn’t be stuck in this stupid economy flight to the bahamas.

there was still at least a few minutes before the plane takes off and rafe tries to compose himself as he counts his deep breaths.

“what’s our number?” your little sister asked as you tighten your grip around her legs. you were carrying her and your bags as you tried to look for your seats. “25f, millie.”

“oh, there!” she pointed at the row a few meters away. “there’s a boy in my seat.” millie frowned as she eyed the guy by the window seat.

“a very cute boy,” you mumbled, walking towards your booked seats.

millie snapped her head towards you, her face scrunched up in a scowl.

rafe only looked up from the window when he saw you mount your bags on top of the compartment above you. the little girl you were with had a frown on her face when she saw where he was seated. you offered him a small smile as you lowered her in between your seats.

he watched as you sat down with a relieved sigh. the little girl kneeled down on her seat and cupped her hands around your ear, promptly whispering something to you.

you carefully say her back down properly and placed on her seatbelt as the pilot announced that you were ready for take-off. “well, i did tell you that we shouldn’t have waited in line for your waffle if you wanted the window seat.”

rafe pretended that he wasn’t listening when the girl looked at him. instead, he busied himself with his seatbelt as the plane started moving.

as soon as the plane was in the air, you grabbed your earphones and plugged them into your phone. you turned to face your sister, giving her the stuffed bunny in her bag. “i’m gonna take a nap, okay? be good for me.”

“okay.” she nodded her head, fiddling with the bunny’s ear as you placed the sleeping mask over your eyes.

rafe let out a shaky breath as he gripped on the armrests. he wasn’t about to have a panic attack with a literal kid beside him. that would seem pathetic as he watched her play with her toy.

he was quite sure that he was about to burst into tears when she suddenly spoke up. “i’m going to talk to you randomly so you need to be prepared, okay?”

rafe snapped his head towards the kid looking up at him, letting out a confused hum. “what?”

“my name is millie, and this is da vinci,” she introduced herself and her stuffed bunny. “what’s your name?”

“i- uh, rafe,” he hesitated, looking over at you then at millie before turning to look back out the window, when she started talking again. she wasn’t lying when she said she would talk to him randomly.

“oh, that’s a nice name.” millie smiled up at him. “my sister thinks you’re cute, mr. rafe.”

“i- wha-?” rafe furrowed his eyebrows. he wasn’t even able to get his question out when she opened her mouth again.

“hey, rafe, do you know what everyone should do when they get on the plane?” millie asked, trying to get a peek through the window.

“what?” rafe finally asked, wanting to humor her.

“thank the wright brothers.” she shrugged. rafe watched in amusement as the little girl clasped her tiny hands together and whispered, “thank you, wright brothers.”

“uhm, yeah,” rafe chuckled, feeling the tightness of his chest ease up. “thank you, wright brothers.”

“ooohh! this is a very nice ring,” she grabbed his left hand before dropping it suddenly. “oopsies, boundaries. i’m sorry,”

“nah, it’s okay.” he smiled, offering her his hand. millie hesitantly took it in her small ones and fiddled with the ring on his finger.

“i think it’s really pretty, but you should draw a smiley face in the middle,” she suggested, tracing the gold ring with her tiny finger.

“that’s a good idea, i might just do that.” rafe nodded in agreement. the both of them got into meaningless conversations, varying from different topics in the span of a few minutes.

rafe felt himself calm down completely in the presence of the little girl. he forgot all about his existent fear as she chattered his ear off with random facts and stories.

as soon as she heard the wheels of the cart, she immediately perked up. “oh, good timing, i was getting hungry.”

the flight attendant chuckled. “what can i get for you, sweetheart?”

“uhm,” she tapped her chin in thought. “oh! can i have those free cookies and chocolate milk, please? and uhm, i think my sister would also like that once she wakes up.” she said, before turning to look at rafe. “what about you, mr. rafe?”

“i’ll take the cookies and a cup of coffee, thanks.” he smiled.

“mr. rafe would take the cookies and the cup of coffee.” she repeated, grinning up at the lady as she handed her the cookies and drinks. “thank you!”

rafe sighed in relief as he took a sip of the warm beverage. he placed his own snacks on the tray table and helped mille pull down hers.

“we should watch a movie.” she suggested, grabbing her ipad from her bag.

“sure,” rafe agreed, watching as she scrolled through the number of choices in her downloads. she paused at one point, letting the princess and the frog load as she offered rafe the other bud of her earphones.

another hour later, you slowly stirred from your mini siesta, groaning at the feeling of your stiff neck as you stretched a bit.

“oh, good, you’re awake,” millie looked at you before returning her gaze at rafe, who was taking photos of the sunrise from above. “rafe and i took a lot of goofy pictures while you were asleep, we’re taking pretty sun pictures now.”

“keep the camera there, rafe, that way i can see out the window better.” she requested.

“who’s rafe?” you asked amidst a yawn.

“i’m rafe,” you immediately closed your mouth shut, forcing the yawn back as rafe offered you his hand to shake.

“oh, hi,” you ran a hand through your hair to make sure it was decent-looking as the other shook his. “i’m y/n.”

rafe smiled softly as he gave you a once over. despite the messy hair and wrinkled clothes, he thinks that you’re the most beautiful stranger he’s ever laid eyes on.

the both of you only snapped out of your gazing when the plane shifted and millie spoke up. “they’re tilting us so we can see better! how nice.”

you and rafe exchanged amused chuckles because the plane definitely wasn’t turning, only giving you a better view.

the captain spoke up, informing all of you that the plane was about to land in a few minutes. you buckled in your sister’s before yours as she tries to keep herself from practically bouncing on her seat.

rafe kept his eyes on you and your sister when he slowly felt his chest tighten. he placed a harsh grip on both of the armrests, trying to direct his attention on the two girls who made his flight bearable.

“we’re going down!” millie exclaimed, and you had to slap your hand on her mouth when the lady in front of you jolted out of her sleep at the sudden cry of your sister. rafe had a soft smile on his face when he felt her tiny hand unconsciously grab onto his, watching as you profusely apologized to the poor spooked lady.

“i feel so lucky that i got to sit by you, rafe,” millie smiled up at him.

rafe felt his heart warm up at the words of the little girl. he gave her hand a small squeeze as he replied, “me, too,”

you and millie were accompanied by rafe up until the baggage claim after your sister begged you to let him come with you, her quick attachment to the boy making it hard for you to compromise on your current situation.

“why can’t he come with us, y/n/n?” she pouted, staying over at rafe’s side instead of yours.

“i think mr rafe has some business he needs to attend to, love,” you smiled sadly, crouching down to look at her. “maybe you’ll get to see him again next time.”

“i mean, i can always fit you guys into my schedule during my visit.” rafe offered. “millie’s a sweet girl, and quite frankly, she, uh, helped me today with my issues with planes.”

“plus, a little birdie told me that you found her seatmate incredibly handsome.” he added, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“i didn’t- i never said-“ you huffed, throwing your arms lightly in the air.

“it’s fine, s’alright.” he assured you, as he grabbed his phone from his pocket. “i best believe that her seatmate found you really cute, too. especially when you were sleeping.”

“creep!” you laughed, grabbing the phone from him and punched in your number.

“what’s happening, i don’t understand what’s happening.” millie whined, switching her attention from you and rafe.

“i guess you and rafe could have another playdate.” you told her, fastening her backpack properly.

“how about you? will you and rafe have a date?” she wiggled her eyebrows at you mischievously.

“oh i-“

“well we-“

you and rafe looked at each other. he raised an eyebrow at you inquisitively. “i mean, i’d love to take you out on a date… if you want?”

“i’d like that.” you smiled at him.

“yes!” millie cheered, pumping her arm in the air. “i don’t know about you guys but i think i’d do a great job as cupid.”

outer banks

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Masterlist Ver 1.0

This account stands with Palestine

Last Updated: Friday January 24

The ones without underline sadly don't have any pics from me yet srry

Peacemaker

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Will be updated regularly!

CHALLENGERS — suggestive, no smut, implied smut

frat rafe cameron and frat saxon ratliff x 𝒜ngel reader

The party is loud, music pounding through the walls, the air thick with alcohol, sweat, and something dangerous humming beneath it all. You’re not supposed to be here, not really. You’re the kind of person who shows up at these things with a friend, clutches a red cup full of something you won’t finish, and smiles politely at the chaos around you. You don’t belong in the thick of it. You never do.

And yet, here you are.

Standing by the makeshift beer pong table, watching Saxon Ratliff and Rafe Cameron destroy their opponents with a kind of reckless confidence that makes it look easy. Rafe is silent, his jaw locked, eyes razor-sharp as he lines up his shot, sinking another ball without so much as a smirk. Saxon, though, Saxon is eating this up, grinning as he flexes his fingers, talking shit with a voice that’s way too smooth for someone half a bottle deep.

They’re winning. Of course, they are.

Saxon catches your gaze mid-laugh, eyes flicking to you like he knew you were watching him before you even realized you were. His grin widens, and he raises the ball between his fingers, tilting his head in your direction.

“C’mere.”

You hesitate. Not because you don’t want to, but because the way he’s looking at you, like he knows something you don’t, makes your stomach twist in ways it shouldn’t.

Still, you move closer, slow, your fingers tightening around your cup. Saxon’s already reaching for you by the time you do, fingers brushing against your wrist, warm and confident.

“Give it a kiss,” he murmurs. “For good luck.”

Your lips part, heat crawling up your neck. “That’s stupid.”

He smirks. “Yeah? Do it anyway.”

You should say no. You really should. But Saxon’s looking at you like he knows you won’t, like he’s already won this game, and somehow, that’s worse. So you do it. You lean in, pressing a soft, barely-there kiss against the ping-pong ball, and you swear he breathes a laugh when you do, quiet and full of something slow and smug.

And then, of course, he makes the shot.

The room erupts into chaos, drinks spilling, voices rising. Saxon basks in it, dragging a hand through his hair as he turns back to you, his grin full of something victorious. Rafe just shakes his head, exhaling sharply like he’s unimpressed, but the way his eyes flick to you as he takes a swig of his drink tells you otherwise.

And that should be it. That should be the end of it. But somehow, it isn’t.

Because now they’re both following you around the party, circling you like you’re something to be won. And maybe you are.

“You a freshman?” Saxon asks, leaning way too close, his breath warm against your temple.

“Sophomore,” you murmur.

Rafe hums, standing just behind you, the contrast between their energies almost dizzying. Where Saxon is all heat and teasing touches, fingers ghosting against your waist, your wrist, your shoulder, Rafe is steady, quiet, eyes dark as they flicker down to the way your breath catches.

“You look like you don’t belong here,” Rafe observes, and there’s something about the way he says it that makes you feel small and exposed.

Your throat tightens. “I was invited.”

Saxon grins, tilting his head. “Yeah? By who?”

You glance away. That was probably the wrong thing to say.

Rafe’s hand brushes against the small of your back, slow and deliberate, like he’s testing something. “What’s your major?”

You swallow. “Film.”

Saxon laughs, deep and slow. “That makes sense.”

Your brows pull together. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Saxon just smirks, but Rafe, Rafe leans in closer, his voice barely above a murmur. “Means you’re soft,” he says, his breath teasing the shell of your ear. “All sweet and careful.”

Saxon chuckles. “You one of those girls that reads romance novels and thinks she’s above all this?”

You open your mouth to argue, but it’s useless, they’re talking like you aren’t even here, like you’re something fragile between them, something to be studied and toyed with.

“Bet she’s never even done a keg stand,” Saxon teases.

Rafe smirks. “Bet she hasn’t even funneled a beer.”

Your face burns. “That’s not exactly—”

“You drink whiskey?” Saxon interrupts.

Your lips press together. “Not really.”

Rafe leans against the wall beside you, watching the way Saxon tips back his cup, throat bobbing as he swallows. “Not really,” Rafe repeats, shaking his head like that’s amusing.

Saxon grins, reaching up to brush a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “That’s cute,” he says, and the worst part is, you can’t even tell if he’s mocking you.

Your stomach tightens. “I should go find my friends.”

Saxon tuts, fingers grazing the back of your neck like he’s barely holding himself back. “They can wait.”

Rafe smirks. “Yeah. We’re having fun.”

And the worst part?

They’re right.

The party only grows louder, the heat of bodies pressed together making the air feel suffocating. But somehow, with them, Saxon grinning, Rafe watching, their touches light but deliberate, it’s not the crowd that has your head spinning. It’s them.

You don’t know how it happens. Maybe it’s the way Saxon’s hand finds the small of your back as he leans in, murmuring something low and teasing in your ear. Maybe it’s the way Rafe lingers, his gaze burning into you like he’s unraveling you thread by thread.

Or maybe it’s the way they move, together, separate, effortless in their control.

You don’t know how it happens, but suddenly, you’re upstairs.

The music is muffled from here, the dim hallway a stark contrast to the chaos below. Saxon tugs you forward with an ease that should scare you, but it doesn’t. Not really. He kicks open a door, stepping inside like he owns the place, and Rafe follows, the door clicking shut behind him.

You should leave. You should say something. But Saxon’s already tilting his head at you, his grin lazy and amused.

“C’mere, pretty.”

You swallow. Your feet move before you can think, drawn into the gravity of him.

Saxon’s fingers ghost over your hip, the heat of his touch barely there but still enough to make you shiver. Rafe is behind you now, solid and unyielding, his presence alone making your pulse stutter.

Saxon tips his head, his gaze flickering over your face. “You nervous?”

“No,” you whisper, though the way your breath catches betrays you.

Rafe chuckles, low and knowing. “Liar.”

His hand finds your waist, steady, grounding, and then Saxon’s fingers are brushing your jaw, tilting your chin up. You barely have a second to think before his lips are on yours.

Soft at first, slow, like he’s savoring it. But then he deepens it, his fingers curling around the back of your neck, pulling you closer, swallowing the quiet sound that escapes you.

And then he’s gone.

Your eyes flutter open, dazed, breath uneven. Saxon smirks, running his tongue over his bottom lip like he can still taste you.

“Pretty,” he murmurs.

Your stomach tightens.

And then, Rafe.

He doesn’t hesitate. His hand tilts your chin up just enough before his lips are on yours, rougher, more demanding, like he’s proving something. You whimper against him, and he makes a sound low in his throat, his other hand finding your hip, gripping just enough to make you ache.

When he pulls back, his breath fans against your cheek, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Baby,” he murmurs.

You shudder.

Saxon chuckles, his fingers tracing the bare skin of your arm. “Think she likes that.”

Rafe smirks. “Think she does too.”

And then, Saxon’s mouth finds your neck.

Warm and slow, teasing kisses against the sensitive skin, his breath hot as he hums against you. Your head tips back before you can stop it, lips parting as your hands find his shoulders.

Rafe watches. And then he’s there too, his lips tracing the other side of your neck, his hand slipping beneath the hem of your shirt, fingers skimming the curve of your waist.

You should stop this. You should pull away.

But you don’t.

Because when Saxon grins against your skin and murmurs, “You’re so damn pretty,” and Rafe drags his lips up to your ear, whispering, “You like this, don’t you, baby?”

You can’t bring yourself to deny it.

taglist.. @italiansunsetss @sylvanianngirl @st7rnioioss-alt @sincerelykelsss @throatgoat4u @wiseladypoetry @gracieabrmslvr @pearlzier @1-hypegvrl @piperrrr-16 @mackyyyk @luna443 @flowerxbunnie @calliepie @cupidsword @notaboutlovebyfiona @recklesssturniolo @littlebookworm803 @blissfulxsins @camsturnz @st7rnioioss @yearlyism @itsyagrillkat

I don’t usually write smut but imagine meeting rafe and Saxon at a frat party. Yall I might make an exception

ooooooo gimme dat

See You Later Daddy~Rafe Cameron

WARRING:Cussing,Daddy Kink,P-IN-V Sex, unprotected sex

(wrap it before you tap it😉)

Rafe’s getting ready to leave and go hang out with Topper and Kelce. I don’t want him to leave, and I know just the trick to get him to stay home.

“Do you have to go?" I whine, holding on to Rafe as he tries to get dressed.

"Yes, I do. Now let go so I can get ready.” Rafe chuckles, trying to get me off.

"Whatever,” I scoffed, walking away only to feel a harsh slap on my ass.

“Lose the attitude.” Rafe chuckled

I’m sitting on my phone scrolling through Instagram when Rafe walks out of the bathroom, all dressed, heading straight towards me.

"Alright, I’m leaving. I love you.” Rafe leans in, trying to get me a kiss, but I dodge him.

"Uh, uh, don’t do that. Give me a kiss.” Rafe leans in, but I keep dodging him, laughing.

“GIVE ME A KISS!” Rafe yelled, grabbing me.

“No.” I laughed, trying to escape him.

“Don’t be a brat.” Rafe chuckled, grabbing my face and placing a rough, wet kiss on my lips.

“I don’t want you to leave.” I pout, crossing my arms.

“I’ll be back before you know it.” He placed another kiss on my lips, softer this time.

I just sit back, watching Rafe walk towards the door, already knowing how I’m going to get him to stay.

"Alright, see you later, daddy.” I smiled watching him walk out. My smile turns into a smirk when I see the door open back up.

“What did you just say?” He asked, walking back in

"Nothing.” I smiled innocently, shrugging my shoulders.

"Okay, I love you.” He looked at me suspiciously as I walked out.

“I love you too, daddy.” I smirked at seeing him walk back in.

“You know exactly what you’ve doing.” Rafe smirked, closing the door behind him and locking it. “I’m not doing anything.” I shrugged.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?" I look at my phone, trying to ignore Rafe, who was walking towards me with the stupid, sexy smirk of his.

"Mmhh, what did you say?" He smirks, getting in my face.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be? Toppers probably wonder where you’re at.” I lean back so he isn’t in my face.

“I don’t give a fuck.” He shrugged, taking off his shirt.

"Bye, see you later.” I look back at my phone.

“You’re going to see me later when you turn back around.” Rafe smirked, unbuckling his pants, leaving him in his boxers.

“RAFE.” I squeal when Rafe grabs me by my ankle, dragging me to the end of the bed.

“You think I’m stupid; you know exactly what you were doing.” Rafe smirked, grabbing my phone out of my hand and tossing in at the top of the bed.

Threading your fingers through his soft blonde hair, your eyes fluttered closed as he stroked from your ankles with both his hands, up towards your knee and to your inner thighs.

Only before dragging them back down again. Rafe pressed a sweet kiss to the inside of your thighs, urging you to spread your legs a little farther before dragging his lips back down.

His lips press against your ankles and your knees. He's teasing you, and you know it.

“Please don’t tease me.” I begged

Rafe licked a flat stripe up your pussy before settling for kitten licks on your throbbing clit.

“Fuck,” I moaned, eyes rolling to the back of your head as Rafe continued to lick at you. His tongue was swirling and sucking in all the right places, making the most obscene noises that were mixed with your whines and whimpers.

Rafe hummed against you, slipping two fingers into you, his eyes trained on your expression above him. Rafe was good at eating you out; he knew everything you liked and exactly how you liked it.

“You like that, baby?” Rafe asked, curling his fingers and instantly hitting that soft spot in you.

"Yes, god, yes, don’t stop. Please don’t stop. I’m going to cum.” I moaned, warping my hands in his hair to push him back down.

“Yeah, you're going to cum, baby."

"Yes, Rafe, yes, don’t stop, don’t stop.” I moan, but right before I could, Rafe instantly stopped pumping his fingers, removing all contact from me.

"No, no, no, what the fuck, Rafe?" I was literally about to sob.

"Uh, uh, not yet.” Rafe chuckled, grabbing me and flipping me on my stomach.

”I told you you would be seeing me later when you turned back around. Rafe instantly propped me up on my knees, pushing me down in the middle of my back with my ass in the air.

"Rafe,” I moaned when he slid in, instantly thrusting slowly.

"Fuck, you're dripping," he groaned, chuckling as he toyed with you.

"Please, Rafe, stop teasing me.” I whined

“That’s not my name." Rafe smacks my ass, speeding up a little.

“What’s my name, baby?” Rafe wraps his arms around my throat, pulling me onto my knees as my back collides with his chest.

“Please don’t tease me, Daddy.” I whimpered.

“Oh god, Daddy, faster.” I moan when his pace speeds up.

Pushing myself backwards, I met his rhythm as he drilled into me, his balls slapping against my skin as he buried his cock into me as deep as he could go with every aggressive thrust.

I could feel the head kissing against the sweet spot in the back of my walls, my trembling pussy sucking him in and hugging around him as he groaned.

"So hot and tight." Rafe groaned, yanking me back into every hard thrust of his hips. His cock was so hard and deep. I could barely think or breathe.

mouth begging for relief, but your body demanded more. "I can feel how close you are." His words had my inner walls clenching and my eyes squeezing shut as pleasure pulsed through me. My hips lift on their own, aching for him to reach deeper.

Rafe’s hand dips between my thighs to press on my clit, and a choked sound leaves me as my body shakes.

“Come on, baby, I know you’re close. I can feel you squeezing me.” Rafe groaned, pushing me flat on my stomach.

“Oh god, Rafe, oh God.”

I cum hard, my body jerking beneath his as I bite my own arm to keep from screaming. A deep, sexy moan echos in my ear as he finishes inside me, fucking me slow and deep until we're both spent and fighting to catch our breath.

We’re both quiet, trying to catch our breaths, when Rafe’s phone starts ringing.

“It’s Topper.”

3AM~Rafe Cameron

WARRING:Cussing,Fingering

I let out a sigh as I closed the front door. I slid my heels off quietly and gently sat my purse on the counter, only grabbing my phone. I got a quick look at the stovetop, and the time was 3:29 a.m.

oh shit.

I tip-toed up the stairs, being as quiet as I could. I finally walked to our bedroom and peeked the door open. Once I felt like it was safe, I stepped in. I quickly turned around and closed the door. I let out a relieved sigh and tossed my head back.

"Where have you been?"

I jumped at the voice and looked over to our bed. Fuck, I've been caught.

"I was out with the girls, like I told you." I tossed my phone on the bed and looked at him, watching as he slowly stood up and walked towards me.

"It's 3 in the morning. Where have you been?" he asked again.

"Why do I have to tell you?" I crossed my arms over my chest.

"What time did I tell you to come back, 11 right. It's 3; you were out doing something you weren't supposed to be doing. and you're drunk, I can smell it." Rafe scoffed.

Shit, there's no getting out of this.

"First of all, I'm not drunk." I scoffed.

"Watch your tone with me," he said, grabbing my chin and making me look at him.

"Where the fuck were you?" he asked. I whimpered as his grip tightened.

"I was at a party," I signed.

"Now you're not going anywhere else since you want to lie and shit, understand?" He tilted his head.

"y-yes"

"Great, now go get in the shower. You smell like alcohol," he smirked, leaving a gentle kiss on my lips, standing up straight. I sighed, walking into the bathroom and locking the door.

Tossing on one of Rafe's t-shirts that went past my knees, I walked out of the bathroom and crawled into bed. Rafe was still awake, but I think he's mad. Hmm, let's see. I gently slid his phone out of his hand and clicked it off.

"Stop looking like you want to kill me." I placed my hand on his cheek, running my thumb over his lips.

"Stop doing stupid shit that makes me want to kill you." He rolled his eyes, kissing my thumb and sliding his hands under my shirt.

"I'm sorry." I removed my hand and pecked his lips. He smiled at me and flipped us over. I guess he's not mad.

I felt him slide his hand down my body before dragging his hand up to his lips and spitting on his fingers before placing them straight onto my heat, causing me to jump.

I placed my hand in his hair griping and pulling it as he rubbed my clit with his thumb.

“Oh god, Rafe, please.” I moan as he speeds up.

As soon as I started to get closer, he smirked, suddenly stopping his movement and pulling my shirt back down.

"What the fuck, Rafe?"

"Your drunk, shut up," he cut me off, laying back in his spot.

"You’re such a piece of shit." I glared at him.

"Mhm, goodnight, babe," he yawned, leaning over and turning the lights off.

Yall, I hope Rafe gets a therapist in season 5. Like he's messed up. He even told his dad he needed help and that he's not okay. Like he knows it himself.

literally the best series i’ve ever read

LOVED YOU AT YOUR WORST - SERIES MASTERLIST (r.c)

: ̗̀➛ one ⋆┆two ⋆┆three ⋆ ┆four ⋆┆five ⋆ ┊six ⋆ ┊seven ⋆┊eight ⋆┆nine ⋆┆ten ⋆┆eleven ⋆ ┊twelve ⋆ ┊thirteen ⋆┊ fourteen ⋆ ┊fifteen┊sixteen ⋆ ⋆ ˚✧ [more to be added]

: ̗̀➛ TAGLIST is CLOSED¡!