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crvptidgf · 5 days

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you have no idea how much i love this. how soft rafe is for her??? oh he’s obsessed

boy, you got her — r. cameron

part 1. part 2. part 3. here's part 4 (or whatever part this is to you, depending on how much you've read). i just couldn't help myself :)

❝ it's true, swear, scouts honor you knew what you wanted and, boy, you got her ❞

pairing: rafe cameron x pogue!reader

context: after a fallout at the boneyard with jj and kie, you agree to a date with rafe.

words: 1.9k+

warnings: jealous!jj, mean!jj (kind of), so so SO fluffy.

"look, i know it's kinda sudden, a'ight?" rafe glances over at you, one hand on the steering wheel. "and you don't have to answer right now. just think about it."

when you and jj broke up, the last thing you would've guessed to happen next was getting into a friends-with-benefits situation with rafe cameron. now, you were sitting in the passenger seat of his truck after he just defended you to your ex-boyfriend and asked you out on a date.

was it too soon? probably. could you really see it working? maybe. did you want to go? yes—as crazy as that sounded.

you turn your head towards him and shake your head. "i don't have to think about it."

a small smile pulls at the corner of his lips, but he fights it, just in case you said no. "you don't?"

"let's do it."

"yeah?" a chuckle falls from his lips, his smile widening.

"yeah," you nod, as he pulls the car to a stop in front of your family's house on the cut. you lean in to place a kiss on his cheek, making them turn the lightest shade of crimson, before opening your door to hop out. "come pick me up at noon tomorrow."

—

"fuck, fuck, fuckkkkk!" you slam your closet door close, just as your older brother peeks in to see where all the commotion was coming from.

"the hell's the matter with you?" he eyes you carefully, leaning against the doorway, sipping on a can of soda.

you ignore him and begin pacing around the room, tossing clothes from your dresser onto the bed. "what the fuck am i suppose to wear?" you lay out one casual outfit—a crochet top and dark-washed shorts—and one fancier outfit—a short, white floral sundress with pink flowers.

"since when do you care what you wear?" your brother walks into your room and looks at the clothes laid out on your bed.

"since i'm going on a date," you say, nibbling on your thumb, as your eyes shifted back and forth between the two outfits.

"jj's taking you out?" he asks, looking at you clearly caught by surprise.

jj was never really the "date" type—not that you minded. while the two of you would spend time together all the time, you'd mostly do it with the rest of the pogues. either that, or you'd hang out in your room or the chateau.

"no," you shake your head. "we broke up."

"so who you goin' out with then?"

you pick up the dress from the bed, and hold it out in front of you, while turning to look into your full-length mirror. "...rafe cameron."

your brother almost chokes on his soda as he snaps his head towards you. "rafe cameron? you're goin' out with a kook?"

"is it really that much of a surprise?" you raise a brow and look at him through the mirror.

"nah," he shakes his head and shrugs. "just didn't think kook was your style."

"well i appreciate your insight, y/b/n, but it's time to go," you turn to shoo him out of the room and push him out your door.

"hey, could you—" before he could evene finish his sentence, you slam the door in his face and return to getting dressed.

while you didn't clear up with rafe exactly what this date would entail, you figured it’d be better to play it safe than be sorry—he was a kook, after all—so you took off your robe and slipped into your mini sundress, before sitting at your desk to crimp your hair and scatter little braids around your head and do your makeup.

after doing so, your phone dings with a text from him, as you slip on some flat sandals.

rafe: downstairs, your brother let me in.

giving yourself one more glance at the mirror to fix your necklaces, you run your hands through your hair and spray on some perfume, before scurrying out your bedroom door and down the hall to greet rafe sitting in the living room with your brother sitting across from him.

"so what are you intentions with my little sister?" your brother asks, just in time for you to intervene.

"oh my god, y/b/n," you say, as rafe stands to greet you. "hey."

you walk over to him and he squeezes you to his side. "hey, doll."

"where we headed?" you asked, noticing him in a salmon colored polo shirt—which somewhat matched the color of the flowers on your dress—and light grey shorts.

"a little change of plans, actually," he tells you. "i gotta go to this brunch at a club cause my dad's getting some award. you don't mind, do you?"

"we can totally leave any time you want," he adds, when a look of apprehension crosses your face.

you slowly nod, your eyes meeting his. "okay."

"yeah?" a small smile forms on his lips when you agree.

"yeah, let's go," you nod again, before turning to pull him towards the door.

"don't bring her back too late!" your brother jokingly calls after the two of you, as you walk out the front door.

"you're not dad!" you yell back, closing the door behind you.

—

the minute you enter a banquet hall at the country club, decked out with several round tables and decorations, full of kooks dressed in designer sundresses and polos, it dawns on you just how different your worlds are.

rafe was the kook king. these fancy brunches were a part of his weekly routine, while the fanciest place you'd ever been was the diner your parents took you to on your trip to new york a month ago.

"you ok?" rafe's hand snakes around the small of your back and he he leans into you when he notices you glancing around, your fingers fiddling with each other. "hey," his finger comes under your chin to make you face him. "don't fret, a'ight? they'll love you."

they? who the fuck is they?

"top, kelce," rafe calls out to two of his friends, both of whom are dressed just like him, as he leads you to their table, which also sat two other girls—who you recognized to be rafe's sisters. "this is y/n."

"topper," the blond one holds out a hand to you, and the dark skinned one does too. "kelce."

"y/n," you shake both their hands, as rafe pulls out a chair for you to sit down. "it's nice to meet y'all."

"oh my god," the young girl seated next to sarah widens her eyes at you from across the table. "you're that girl rafe's been sneaking in and out of the house at night!"

"wheeze," sarah throws her a look, before smiling at you. "sorry about her, she has no filter. i'm sarah."

"yeah, i know," you nod at her. "kiara's talked about you."

"oh," the smile on her face drops a little. "you're friends with kie?"

"not anymore," you shake your head, and sarah's smile returns. "we were, but… she's showed her true colors." you reach for the glass of water in front of you and take a sip.

"tell me about it," sarah scoffs. "i had to learn that the hard way."

you continue making small talk with sarah, realizing she wasn't half the bitch kiara made her out to be, while rafe's hand rested on your thigh, as he talked to kelce and topper.

"drinks?" you hear a familiar drawl behind you, and find jj standing over you with a platter of mimosas, dressed like a waiter. "y/n?"

a smirk comes across rafe's lips as he turns his head, eyes shifting between the two of you. "hey, man. just one for my girl."

jj's clicks his tongue, as rafe smiles at you and gives your thigh a squeeze, but does his job, and leans down to hold the platter out to you.

"thanks," you avoid eye contact with him as you grab a drink from the platter, and are thankful when sarah calls on him from across the table.

"i'll take one too," she says and jj rounds the table to allow her to grab a drink, his disappointed eyes meeting yours.

a part of you felt bad—it had only been about a month—but then again, he moved on while you two were still together. so was there really a reason for you to feel guilty? you were just doing what he did—but better. at least you waited until the relationship ended.

"i'm gonna go to the bathroom real quick," you whisper to rafe, who gave you a small nod.

"why?" he asked, concern falling over his features. "you okay?"

"yeah," you assure him. "i just gotta pee. i'll be back."

—

by the time you got back from the bathroom, applause was erupting around the room, as rafe, sarah, and wheezie joined their dad on stage with their stepmom.

a smile came across your face as his eyes met yours from across the room and you leaned an elbow on the counter of the bar beside you.

"can't believe you stooped this low," jj comes up beside you, placing the platter down on the bar and downing one of the drinks himself.

"no," you turn your head to look at him and shake your head when rafe becomes occupied taking pictures with his family. "we're not doing this here."

you head out of the room, and he follows. "why? scared your new kook friends are gonna realize you're not one of them? i mean, seriously, y/n— how far are you willing to take this? just to-"

you snap your head towards him. "just to what, jj?"

"to spite me," he says. "i mean, have you looked in the mirror lately?" he motions a hand at your dress. "you're dressed like them, you're eating with brunch with them, you're with him—this isn't you!"

"no," you hold a finger up to him. "i am exactly who i've always been. you just don't know how i look when i'm not in love with you."

a scoff leaves his mouth. "so much for i love you, huh?"

was he for real?

you narrow your eyes and shook your head. "no, you don't get to use that against me. i did love you, j. you were the one who screwed shit up the second you decided to sleep with kie. you are not turning this on me."

"oh my god, would you get over it?" he asked, clearly frustrated. "you slept with rafe cameron, y/n! we're even."

"even?" you spat. "after you betrayed me? broke my trust? my heart? oh, you have no idea just how even it's about to be."

"the hell's going on out here?" rafe joins you and jj outside the banquet hall, immediately coming to your side, a hand on your lower back. "is he bothering you?"

"no," you shake your head. "jj's shift just ended. he was about to go."

rafe shifts his eyes between the two of you, you and jj's eyes focused on each other.

your ex-boyfriend scoffs and shakes his head, but walks away, taking rafe by surprise.

"you wanna tell me what that was all about?" he looks at you, after watching jj leave.

"nothing to tell," you shrug with a smile, tilting your head up at him. "you wanna head back inside?"

"you wanna stay?"

"yeah," you nod, snaking your arm around his back. "i do."

i love soft rafe almost as much as i love canon rafe tbh.

reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33

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tags: @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @immyowndefender @chiaraanatra @ijustwanttoreadlols @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesgiirl @solanathascientst @10ava01 @werewhatkilledthedinosaurs @void21 @groovycass @azrielsgirll @rroslitas @callsignwidow @zyafics

#rafesfavgirl #rafe cameron #fic rec

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crvptidgf · 5 days

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i’m OBSESSED this was so cute

You want dean AND rafe requests? Well, how about this; Imagine having a sleepover with Sarah and watching Spn, and while she's crushing on Sam, you don't shy away from talking about how Dean is the better option and Rafe hears you going on and on about it, and because your relationship is still pretty much on the down low (yk, because he's your bffs brother), he's forced to keep his jealousy in. Only letting out pouty huffs and passive/mumbled comments of how he was the better option.

older brothers // r.c

pairing: rafe cameron x reader

wc: 1.4k

warnings: slight cursing, implied public smut but nothing explicit, kinda got a little off topic but i think its kinda cute idk

Thank you and enjoy <3

_______________________________

“I don’t know. I have a thing for older brothers, Sarah. You know this,” you say, holding back a smirk as you look at her older brother. Rafe glanced up from his phone to gauge Sarah’s reaction. She remains unaware of the confession you had indirectly made.

Thank god, Rafe thinks. He couldn’t risk Sarah knowing the very real truth behind your statement. The two of you had been dating for two months now, unbeknownst to Sarah. You had begged Rafe to keep your relationship private, in fear of hurting Sarah. She had been your best friend since the second grade. It made you feel like shit keeping such a secret from her. But Rafe agreed, and you couldn’t lose either one of them.

Rafe plops down on the chair closest to your end of the couch. He subtly pushes his chair a bit closer to you. You exchange small smiles, and Rafe winks at you quickly. He decides to busy himself with his phone, still listening to your conversation with his sister.

“Oh, please! Dean is horrible! Sam is so obviously the better choice,” Sarah argues. You scoff.

“No chance! Dean is way better! He gave up his entire life to take care of Sam! His entire motivation for everything he does is to protect Sam! You don’t think he’d put the same effort into a relationship with someone he cares about? Not to mention he’s so much hotter than Sam,” you exclaim, ignoring the fact that Rafe is right beside you.

“I don’t think either one of them are that great,” Rafe mumbles under his breath, only loud enough for you to hear. You let out a quiet laugh and rolled your eyes.

Sarah glares at you playfully, “I wouldn’t know he’s had one semi stable relationship that we’ve seen, and that didn’t end on the best note,” Sarah says referencing the Lisa plot line.

“Plus, Sam has great hair,” Sarah adds quickly. You stare at her in shock for a few seconds.

“Sarah, every time Sam looks at a girl, she bursts into flames. Dean’s clearly the better lover in this situation. He never leaves the bar alone, and he never leaves his lover unsatisfied,’’ you joke about Dean’s habits in the earlier seasons.

You can see Rafe’s head snap to look at you after you finish speaking. The jealousy in his eyes doesn’t go unnoticed by you.

“I cannot believe you just said that!” Sarah looks at you in disbelief, letting out a quick laugh. You laugh with her before continuing to gush about the onscreen brothers. You can see Rafe pouting out of the corner of your eye. You turn your attention back to the screen.

You watch as Demon Dean stalks through the bunker looking for Sam.

“Holy shit, he’s so hot. And the red lights are definitely helping,” You exclaim. You had tried to hold back your comment. Honestly. But the way he holds the hammer and the cinematography with the emergency lighting was just too much.

“I look hot in red LEDs too,” Rafe grumbles quietly. Your eyes shoot to his as you blush faintly. His eyes are partially covered by his floppy hair, but you can still see the disdain in them. He looks miserable with his cheek pressed into fist, his elbow digging into the arm of his chair.

“What’s your problem?” Sarah asks, finally acknowledging Rafe. He raises his head to look at her, his eyes widening slightly.

“I can’t hear what you’re saying, but I can hear you grumbling and brooding over there,” Sarah continues. She copies her brother’s previous position and lets out a string of overdramatic huffs and groans.

“Just annoyed, Sarah. Thank you,” Rafe glares at his little sister. You hold back a small laugh at the two bickering.

Rafe notices and sends you a glare. You notice the switch go off in his head. This is real jealousy now. You hadn’t meant to make Rafe jealous for real. Honestly, you didn’t think a fictional character could cause him such anger.

When the next episode ends, Rafe abruptly leaves the room. You wait a few minutes before telling Sarah you’re going to use the bathroom. She whines about having to pause the show.

“Just fill me in,” you mumble as you exit the room to find Rafe. You watch Sarah to make sure she doesn’t see you heading upstairs rather than to the bathroom down the hall.

You quickly make your way to Rafe’s bedroom, the door slightly ajar. You push it open to find Rafe sulking on his bed. You hold back a small laugh when you notice the pout on his face.

“Rafe, what’s wrong?” You question as you plop onto his bed beside him. He’s laying on his back with his head resting against his pillows. You take this opportunity to climb into his lap. You straddle his waist momentarily before lowering your upper body flat against him. Your hands are folded against his chest, chin resting against them.

Rafe ignores you, so you take this moment to press a small kiss to his pout. You continue placing quick kisses to Rafe’s lips until he finally breaks out into a smile and kisses you back.

“Do you like Dean more than me?” Rafe asks you abruptly. The room is quiet for a few seconds before the two of you start bursting out laughing.

“Sweetheart, I like Dean, but I love you. You have no reason to be so jealous over a fictional character,” You giggled as you explained. Rafe laughed as well and pressed a sweet to your forehead.

“Hey, what did you tell Sarah?” Rafe asked after a couple minutes. Your eyes grew wide as you shot up from your position on Rafe.

“Oh, shit,” You gasped, turning to the door. You hadn’t realized how much time had passed.

“Yeah. Oh, shit,” Sarah said from her spot in the doorway. The three of you stared at each other in silence for a short moment.

Sarah’s arms were crossed over her chest, and her face held a deep scowl. She was the first to speak up.

“I can’t believe you ditched me for my jealous brother,” Sarah groaned. You furrowed your brows.

“How did you know-“ You started to ask.

Sarah scoffed, “I have a thing for older brothers.” She was mocking you about your earlier comment. “Plus, you’re over all the time. Even when I’m not home. Also, me and John B caught you guys that one time,” Sarah spoke nonchalantly. Your eyes widened more in horror.

“Not the beach,” You begged to some higher power that it wasn’t the beach day. You and Rafe had gotten a little carried away in his car one day. Not long after the two of you had exited the car, Sarah and John B showed up. You thought you were in the clear but apparently not.

“Unfortunately, it was the beach,” Sarah shuddered at the memory. She had her suspicions before then, but that day had confirmed it for her.

Embarrassed, you had plopped back down onto Rafe’s bed. You buried yourself into his side, trying to hide. His body shook with laughter, and you smacked him. Sarah laughed at your reaction.

“Sarah, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to hide it from you, but I didn’t know how you’d react,” you explained. Sarah shrugged it off.

“He’s been way nicer to me and Wheeze lately, so I guess it’s fine,” she huffed playfully. You smiled and stood up to hug her. Rafe groaned as you left his side, causing Sarah to stick her tongue out at him.

“Wait, does this mean we can’t drool over Sam and Dean anymore?” Sarah whined. It had been her favorite hobby lately, watching Supernatural with you.

“Oh, absolutely not! I’m actually having withdrawals from my favorite boyfriend right now,” You spoke seriously. You grabbed Sarah’s arm and started dragging her back downstairs to finish your marathon.

“What?” Rafe exclaimed, jumping up from his bed.

“I’m just kidding!” You yelled over your shoulder, halfway down the stairs.

“I’m not kidding,” you whispered to Sarah.

“I heard that!” Rafe yelled from the top of the stairs. You and Sarah laughed at his feigned anguish before plopping back onto the couches and continuing your show.

#whorefordean #rafe cameron #fic rec

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crvptidgf · 5 days

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this should be illegal

HELLO???😭😭😭

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crvptidgf · 5 days

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i feel like these just keep getting better and better

𖥔 ࣪ ᥫ᭡ꗃ⋆࣪. rafe cameron + his afrolatina! gf 𖥔 ࣪ ᥫ᭡ꗃ⋆࣪.

— based on this ask right here ✧

#zyafics #i’m obsessed

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crvptidgf · 7 days

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Pogue Gone Rogue • pt. II

Rafe Cameron x Routledge!Reader

➸ summary: following a nasty divorce with Big John, your mother moved you to Figure 8, separating you from your step-brother and his group of misfits. 5 years later you’ve integrated into the kook life, but what happens when your estranged brother tries to bring you back to the pogue ways?

➸ warnings/notes: best friend’s brother trope, rafe isn’t crazy in this (sort of), heavy daddy issues from both reader and rafe, secret relationship, some strays from canon, eventual smut (18+)

word count: 2.6k

previous part

————————

IT TOOK YOU a while to clean yourself when you got home that night. The salt from the seawater stuck to your hair and you had to hop in the shower to rinse yourself off.

You couldn’t believe that your dad has been missing for several months and you were just finding out about it now.

Did your mom know? Did Ward? You knew they had been friends at some point - maybe that’s why he was so adamant on you having a key to the house. Were you really the last one to be told out about this?

Shaking the thoughts from your head, you decided to go to bed and deal with the rest tomorrow.

The next day was eerily quiet. Sarah wasn’t in bed next to you like she usually was, and the house seemed empty from what you could tell. You figured she went to see Topper after what happened last night.

Picking your phone up from your nightstand, you ventured downstairs to get breakfast.

“Morning sunshine,” came Rafe’s voice from the kitchen. You thought to you were home alone, but the fact that you weren’t brought a sense of comfort. In all honesty you didn’t want to be alone right now.

Plopping down onto the stool at the island, you rubbed at your temple. Today felt strange for many reasons.

“Where is everyone?”

Rafe poured a cup of coffee for himself before grabbing another mug and doing the same to that one.

“Wheezie is at school, Ward and Rose went off to some meeting and Sarah-“ Rafe stopped to slide the drink to you, “is God knows where.”

You nodded. As you said before, she was most likely at Topper’s. Ward always had meetings early in the mornings, and Rose would join just to chat with the housewives and influence their opinions and ideas. That was something that you learned from Rafe - if the housewives could vouch for Cameron Development to their husbands then it was all the better for the company.

The coffee was bitter and strong, just how Rafe liked it. You winced at the taste and set the cup back down.

“What did you say to Topper last night?” you asked. He looked pretty angry when you saw him on the beach, remembering how he was hoisting your friend’s boyfriend up by the shirt.

Rafe shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. What matters is that he won’t do it again.”

Another beat of silence fell between you two.

It was Rafe’s turn to ask a question. “What did John B say to you?”

You were expecting him to ask you about it, so it didn’t come as much of a surprise. Sarah was the only one who really knew about your family before you moved to Figure 8 - the only one who knew how much of a sensitive topic it was for you.

A humorless laugh left your lips as you responded. “My dad has disappeared and as always, I’m the last to find out.”

He didn’t know it, but you were referring to the divorce. When your parents split everybody knew it was happening before you did. You only realized when your mom began to pack her bags to leave. She gave you a kiss on the cheek and a quick goodbye before leaving. You were 14.

“Disappeared?” Rafe asked cautiously.

“Yep. Gone, missing, whatever you wanna call it.”

Sad was not a word you would use to describe what you were feeling. Especially not when you remember how he spoke to you when your mom left you in his care while she figured herself out back on Figure 8. She wanted to stabilize her career before moving you in with her, and Big John took all his anger with her out on you.

So, sad was not what you were, but seeing the look Rafe gave you reminded you that maybe you should be.

“Don’t give me that look. I’m fine. I’m honestly just pissed.”

With an understanding nod, he left the room to let you cook yourself some food. You didn’t know it but he was already imagining how he’d rip into your brother the next time he saw him.

SARAH DIDN’T GET back home until way later that day. You and Rafe didn’t discuss what happened at the party since the morning - especially avoiding the weird moment that you two had.

He usually liked to stay out of Pogue business. Even though the fight happened at a Kook party and Topper initiated it, he still found himself not caring too much about it.

“What’s gotten into you?” you asked Sarah as you scrolled through your phone on her bed.

For the past few minutes she had been trying to convince you to text your brother, but to no avail. You had no idea why she was suddenly vouching so hard for him considering she was the one who was against John B working on her dad’s boat.

“You went from calling him every name under the sun to wanting me to talk to him?”

Sarah shrugged, her eyes cast down to her fingernails. You wondered what happened at Topper’s to make her act like such a devil’s advocate. John B wasn’t there for you when it mattered - Sarah was. And she knew that, so where did the sudden change of heart come from?

It felt like each day only caused more and more questions to form as Sarah adamantly tried to get you to hear your brother's side of the story.

Tonight she was out again. She was acting weird but you chalked it up to her having a strain on the relationship with Topper ever since the beach. Maybe she felt bad for John B. Her boyfriend did almost drown the guy. Hopefully she was at his house talking it out now so that she could go back to normal.

That was not the case, however.

You were walking outside to grab Sarah’s bike, hoping to go for a ride to clear your head. Instead you saw Topper and Rafe in the driveway. While you didn’t catch all of what was happening, you heard an angry tone.

“What, are you spying on her?” spat Rafe.

Forgetting about your relaxing bike ride you walked up further to see what was happening. “Topper?” you asked, confused on why he was here and not with Sarah. “Where’s Sarah?”

Topper glanced at you before turning to get back in the car. “That’s what I’m tryna figure out.” And with that, he was gone.

“Fucking prick,” Rafe cursed as he rubbed his hand over his face. Rafe and Topper never really got along but you felt like the comment came out of nowhere. Deciding that you didn’t care enough to ask, you returned to your mission of getting the bike.

What you did care about was Sarah’s whereabouts. If her boyfriend didn’t know where she was then who did? She didn’t even tell you - her best friend.

“If you’re looking for the bike, Sarah took it.”

You stopped in your tracks. So she went somewhere far enough that she needed to cycle. Where could she have possibly gone? Everything was so confusing right now.

A sigh escaped your lips.

“Come swim with me?” you asked silently.

Rafe pretended to think about it, but ultimately he followed you into the house to walk into the backyard. It was warm and the summer sun was setting, the pink and orange hues reflecting on the pool water.

This wasn’t the first time you swam here but after the night at the beach with Rafe, you felt slightly unconscious under his gaze. The act of getting undressed in front of him held a new meaning now.

“Don’t be so tense. I’m not gonna pounce on you,” Rafe joked when he sensed your hesitation to take your shirt off.

He began to dip into the water. It took everything in him to not look behind and watch you pull the cloth from your body. Not even a moment later you joined him, the water rippling as you settled next to him.

You tilted your head up to watch the sunset. “She didn’t tell me where she went,” you mumbled.

Water dripped from Rafe’s hand as he ran it through his hair. “I don’t know what to tell you,” he said. “But I know that she always does this shit.”

Their sibling rivalry was something you didn’t understand too much. From Sarah’s perspective Rafe was impulsive and hotheaded, his constant overprotective nature being something she hated. That was why she was the favorite according to her.

“Yeah, but not like this. You know she told me I should call John B?” you scoffed as you sifted your hands through the blue-toned liquid.

“I don’t know why that’s bad, besides the fact that it’s John B.”

Slapping his shoulder playfully, you left his side to stroke across the pool to the other side. Rafe followed.

If you weren’t so frustrated you probably wouldn’t have even considered telling him. Or if Sarah was here to complain to. “My step-dad wasn’t the best. John B was always the favorite since I wasn’t technically his ‘real’ kid. And I just-“ you scratched at your forehead, feeling awkward even voicing this out loud to Rafe. “He’s just never stood up for me. That’s all I’ll say.”

Rafe hummed.

“So he’s the golden child? I know what that’s like.” He said it with such disdain in his voice that you opted against asking him to elaborate.

“Yeah, I guess. Maybe I should just give him a chance. I got a new number so I can’t exactly call him but I might go down to the Chateau tomorrow,” you were mostly thinking out-loud to yourself, not even paying any attention to Rafe beside you.

“On your own?” Rafe almost laughed. “Forget it. I’ll drive you.”

You were about to object before you realized that you kind of liked the idea of someone being there with you. It made the thought of dealing with your ex friends a little less daunting. But you liked fucking with the guy. So, instead of agreeing you decided to tease him.

“We’ll see.”

Rafe’s eyebrow inched upwards. “I wasn’t asking. I’m coming.” He was now swimming closer to you, his face flushed and wet.

“You think I’m gonna let those grubby Pogues get their hands on you? Or what happens if JJ pulls out his gun again?”

Your heart beat a little faster upon noticing how Rafe was advancing towards you. Without even noticing you were slowly walking backwards. “And what are you gonna do if he does?” you asked sarcastically. Realistically nobody would stand a chance against JJ with a firearm, not even Rafe.

“I’ll show him my gun,” he muttered, his head tilted down to look at your shorter stature. Well, everybody was short to him.

Eventually your back came into contact with the wall of the pool. If it came as no surprise that Maybank had a weapon, it definitely wasn’t a shock that Rafe did too. It was Rafe - you’d be concerned if he didn’t.

“Wow,” you mused jokingly, “my knight in shining armor.”

Rafe placed his hand on the edge of the wall behind you, his signature smirk playing on his features. “You don’t need one. Your crazy ass ran towards an attempted homicide situation,” he said while leaning down to reach your eye level. “Y’know most people would run the other way, princess.”

You knew he was only trying to rile you up and make you feel stupid. “I’m not most people.”

His eyes softened. “You really aren’t,” he added sincerely.

Rafe was almost chest to chest with you. It was like you could feel like the heart beats against his ribcage with his proximity. Any small movement would cause you to press up against him, and you fought with everything in you to not do it.

His face was still parallel to yours, his breath fanning across your face. The subtle smell of tobacco could be smelled and, normally you would hate it, but on Rafe it was intoxicating.

Eyes flitting to your lips, he quickly caught himself and looked back up at you.

“Tell me not to,” he said suddenly.

Rafe always thought you were pretty. Even through his weird fixation on your past as a Pogue, he felt a pull to you, one that he had never had with anyone before. He liked your playful relationship, and the fact that you never treated him as less than Sarah like everybody else did. You saw him for who he was on the outside and not for what he did in the past.

Despite his dad warning Rafe to stay away from you, and his understanding that you were John B’s sister, he could never tear his eyes away from.

He shuddered when he felt you grab his hand, dragging it to lay on your waist. “You know I won’t,” you whispered.

Rafe thought he was dreaming. Someone so perfect and kind like you deserved better than him. But he was too selfish to worry about that right now. All he wanted - all he needed was to feel your lips. If he didn’t he might as well have just passed out right then and there.

In a moment of weakness and lack of logic, he dipped down and captured you in a kiss.

If you weren’t leaning against a surface you probably would’ve fell backwards with the force that you were met with. Was he really this excited to kiss you?

“Always thought you were just a flirt,” you said against his lips, your hands roaming up his biceps to grab at any piece of skin that you could.

Your leg was hoisted up around his hip as he pushed you harder against the wall, his lips continuing to meet yours with such an intense fury that you were genuinely astonished. “Only with you,” Rafe said breathlessly.

A satisfied hum left your mouth as you felt a pair of lips begin to trail downwards. Every single centimeter of skin was being licked, bitten, sucked, kissed - you name it. Rafe was making up for lost time with how he ventured across your neck and chest, having no remorse in leaving marks behind.

“Rafe,” you groaned. “How am I gonna cover those up?”

“I don’t care, but if you keep saying my name like that you’re gonna have a lot more to hide.”

He knew it shouldn’t have felt so right. But it did; and it scared the hell out of him. You on the other hand were trying to ignore the fact that Sarah would have a field day chewing Rafe out about this.

Shit. Sarah.

You ran your hands through Rafe’s hair, slightly tugging. “Rafe,” you called, trying to get him out of his daze.

Suddenly you felt cold at the absence of him. Yet the sight that you were met with when he picked his head up was worth it. His lips were pink and swollen, and his hair was messy from your fingers carding through it. He was quite the vision.

In between pants, you tried to get out the words. “We should-“

You quickly stopped upon hearing two hushed whispers in the distance. It sounded like a female voice, one you recognized quite well. Rafe stepped away from you. Trying to keep quiet, you both looked around for any sign of who it could be - but when the front door opened and you looked through the house to see, you almost gasped.

There, stood in the lightly illuminated hallway was Sarah, your brother’s hand in hers as she seemingly shushed him. She looked around before dragging him deeper into the house.

What the fuck was John B doing here?

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @sublimepenguinpeach-blog

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crvptidgf · 8 days

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.ೃ࿐ gilbert blythe*ೃ༄

*+:｡.｡ 𓆩♡𓆪 indicates explicit content

- - - 𓆩✩𓆪 - - -

✧ 𝐚 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 || one-shot

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crvptidgf · 8 days

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A Night To Remember

Gilbert Blythe x Reader

➸ summary: as the daughter of a renowned lawyer in Avonlea, you are invited to this season's debutante ball. little do you know, you're about to meet the man who will steal your heart

➸ warnings/notes: probably some historical inaccuracy, stereotypes of the role of men and women (it’s the 19th century, c’mon), strays from canon, all characters are over the age of 18

A/N: can you tell i've been watching bridgerton?

word count: 1.9k

————————

YOU WERE NEVER one for rumors. Ever since you left school and were given the opportunity to study at a university you had decided to stay far away from that type of lifestyle. You saw how gossip ruined many girls and destroyed several friendships - and you refused to fall into that trap.

Not to mention the fact that your family was well respected by the ton, and their youngest eligible daughter parading around with false stories would not bode well.

So, when whispers of a supposed ‘debutante ball’ were circling around the girl's dormitories, you paid them no mind. Certain families had a guarantee to be invited to one of these events, while others had to work their own way in. If there was to be a ball you would've already known by now.

Arriving back to your chambers, you were happy to see that your roommate was still in her classes. She was a nice girl, but too chatty for your liking.

You were so occupied by your thoughts that you almost missed the pristine envelope that sat at the foot of your bed, the purple wax shining in the sunlight. It was your father's emblem. Either somebody died or you were about to get some amazing news. Grabbing your letter opener, you sat on the soft sheets as you analyzed the contents of the page. It read:

To my dearest,

As you may now know, this season's Debutante Ball is to be set in the Halloway Estate come dawn tomorrow night. Your father and I decided it best to wait as we know you wish to complete your studies, but as the time is nearing quite quickly we had no other choice but to exempt you from classes for the time being. The carriage will await you at noon.

With warmest regards, your loving mama.

Groaning, you crumpled the paper in your hands and threw it onto your pillow. You were never interested in the social aspect of high society. Important dinners, town fairs, and theatre visits were a common occurrence in your childhood. All of which greatly impeded your learning, and you hated it.

Ultimately you knew you had no choice. Deciding to make the best of it, you began to collect your things. There was never a point in arguing with your parents, especially since they had already sent someone to come get you.

You just hoped the ball would pass quickly.

YOUR PREVIOUS WISHFUL thinking unfortunately did not work out. After being pampered for what felt like hours, and revised on proper etiquette and rules, you already wanted to go back home.

The frilly dress you wore was beautiful, but uncomfortable. Your maids made sure no lace was loose and that all the fine whale bone in your corset was tucked perfectly against your torso. It was a physical embodiment of your imprisonment in this little social charade your parents wanted you to play.

Introductions went by as quickly as they came, and your parents accompanied you side by side as you trailed down the grand staircase.

While every other girl was back on campus studying for exams, you were here frollocking about. How would dancing and mingling help your education? You pushed back a sigh and twisted the edge of the ring on your finger. It was a purity ring that was handed down to you by your mother, something she had held in her family for generations.

“Now, now, dearest,” said your mama as she interlinked her arm with yours. “No need to fret. You remember your dancing lessons?”

You simply nodded. With your curls bouncing around and your perfect dress feathering across the floor you felt like a porcelain doll. It was like you had been dressed up solely for the purpose of being looked at. Which, in fairness, was quite the case.

Throughout the night various men came to ask for permission to dance. Some were accepted, and some declined, much to your pleasure.

Eventually your father ventured off somewhere to talk business and your mother was caught up in conversation with an old friend. It was the perfect opportunity to sneak out for some fresh air. Picking up the hem of your dress you jogged as quick as your heeled sandals would let you.

Cold air hit your face as you were met with the evening sky. You leaned against the marble rail of the balcony, reveling in how nice the breeze felt. It was getting much too stuffy inside. You finally let out the sigh you had been holding in all night.

“The stars are beautiful tonight don’t you think?” said a voice.

Slightly jumping, you turned around to see who it was. There in the pale moonlight stood the most handsome man you had ever seen. Many gentlemen greeted you tonight, but this one had something different about him. Perhaps it was the gentle way he carried himself, his hands tucked behind his back politely - or maybe it was his brown orbs that seemed to pull you in with every second that passed.

“My apologies. I wasn’t aware that anyone was here,” you replied, moving away from the balcony to return inside.

As much as you would’ve wanted to continue the conversation with the attractive man, an unchaperoned lady at night was a guaranteed scandal.

“No need. I was only here for a breath of fresh air.”

He looked at the glass door, eyeing the people in the ballroom. “I could leave if you wish,” he offered.

Shaking your head you continued to make your way back to your parents. Yet when you looked back at him, something in you begged you to stay. Maybe it was just the way your heart soared at the sound of his smooth voice.

You moved away from the door.

“What brings you out here?” you asked as you twiddled with your ring again. It was a nervous habit that you had developed while at school and your mother absolutely hated it.

The man, however, noticed and made a mental note of it in his head. He found it rather cute.

“This sort of thing isn’t really my forté,” the man confessed.

A smile found its way onto your face. The first one you’ve had all night. “Well, Mr…” you paused, looking at him.

“Blythe. Gilbert Blythe.”

“Well, Mr. Gilbert Blythe. As it so happens, it isn’t mine either.”

You both floated back to the edge of the terrace. It overlooked a huge garden that spanned a few acres. While it was gorgeous, it all felt too grand. A small patch of grass with some flowers was infinitely more charming than this overgrown imitation of a forest.

“And what is your forté, Miss -“

“Y/N,” you replied quickly.

Gilbert repeated the name, as if he was getting a feel for it on his tongue. It was quite the lovely name.

The black suit he wore fit him perfectly. His straight-set shoulders were donned with a fine material, his tie sitting delicately against his chest. Whoever he was, he definitely had money. Even the way he styled his hair seemed so prim and proper.

“I’m more of an academic,” you admitted. Most men didn’t like hearing of their bachelorette’s life goals. Many actually preferred that they stayed out of school.

Gilbert hummed, his gaze settling up at the heavens. “We have quite a lot in common then, Miss Y/N.”

You would’ve expected the interaction to be awkward. Instead, you found yourself enjoying the comfortable silence that fell between the two of you. Soon you would have to return to the ball. For now you decided to make the most of it before you had to vacate.

“And what is it that you do, Mr. Blythe?”

Gilbert smiled, his eyes squinting. How he wasn’t already spoken for, you had no idea. “Please, just Gilbert. Mr. Blythe ages me.”

“I’m a doctor,” he finished after a moment.

A doctor. Usually medical practitioners were old and reserved. Well, at least the ones you had been to. You never thought they could be so… easy on the eyes.

You hummed in response. “Are you in university, just Gilbert?”

Another smile. Dimples graced his cheeks perfectly and if you didn’t know any better you would’ve reached over to smooth them out. “I am. And you?”

The wind picked up slightly, ruffling your hair. “I am. I’m studying law - I hope to take over my father’s business one day.”

You knew you were sharing too much. It was just too easy with Gilbert, he had a certain relaxing aura about him. Your parents would love him too. The thought made you giddy.

With his eyebrows raised, he turned to you. “A lawyer, huh?”

Nodding, you let your eyes meet his. In the quiet of the night, you realized that brown was quickly becoming your favorite color. Brown like his eyes, or like the chocolate locks that sat so prettily atop his head.

“You must be a very smart woman to get into law school.”

“And you must be a very smart man to get into medical school,” you mocked back. He merely shook his head in response, letting his lips form into yet another breathtaking grin.

“I'm compelled to ask. Why are you outside and not in there dancing? Any gentleman would be lucky to have such a graceful, intelligent woman on his arm.”

The comment made you blush and you turned your head away from him. After this brief interaction you realized that the only man you wished to dance with tonight was Gilbert. Nobody else could stand a chance anymore - not that they ever did.

In a rush of confidence you replied. “Perhaps I don’t have the right men asking me.”

With a grin on his face, Gilbert held out his palm. His hands looked so inviting. You wondered how they would feel against your own, smaller hands.

“Well then, may I have this dance?”

Placing your fingers against his, you let the warmth spread across your body. He felt more perfect than you could’ve imagined. You let him lead you back to the ballroom, the shiny ground causing your shoes to clack against it. This was perhaps the first and only dance that you would actually enjoy at this event.

Gilbert’s hands felt light and pleasant on your waist. And there was something so tender about the way he spun you around.

He was like no other man you had ever danced with.

His feet were perfectly in sync with yours as he lead you across the floor. Warm eyes were concentrated on your face, never once leaving your penetrating stare. It felt more intimate than anything you had experienced to date. Your hands cupped his own as he sped the dance up, his twirls and dips causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach.

That night you felt like a princess in his arms.

When the music died down, he hesitantly dropped the grip on your waist. Lifting up your ringed hand to his lips, he placed a feather-like kiss onto it, honey colored orbs fixated on you.

“I hope we can do this again, Miss Y/N.”

Your skin buzzed in the absence of his touch, and you felt the area where he had left his mark. A kiss so gentle that you would dream about it for many nights to come.

You only hoped your father was in contact with somebody who knew Gilbert Blythe - because after tonight, you weren’t so sure you could see any man the same ever again.

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crvptidgf · 8 days

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"he can do no wrong" well actually i think he did a lot of wrong things, and that's specifically what attracted me to him in the first place

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crvptidgf · 8 days

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Do you still write for gilbert?

(Anne with a e)

there hasn’t really been much demand for it in a while so i stopped. although if anyone was interested i could definitely start up again!

so to answer your question: i will if people request it.

#anne with an e #gilbert blythe #awae fandom #awae #awae s3 #gilbert blythe fanfic

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crvptidgf · 8 days

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CRYINNGGG they’re so cute. i love this series with my whole being, thank you for writing such a beautiful story

watch and learn (part ten) (end)

pairing fratboy! rafe cameron x female reader

rating explicit 18+

content warning drug and alcohol use

summary it takes one conversation with your college dorm neighbor to know you won’t get along. rafe is loud, rude, and short-tempered. after he overhears you talking about a disappointing fling, he loses his confidence in his sexual abilities and suggests you start hooking up to both improve your skills in the bedroom. you can’t stand him, but it’s too good of an offer to turn down.

» masterlist

*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

When you both get to your door, Rafe is kissing you like he’s afraid you’ll change your mind.

You’re giggling between kisses as his big, warm hands cradle your jaw, your heart feeling weightless.

He can’t let go of you. This is such a new, addictive feeling. Liking a girl this much. Knowing she likes him back. Wanting to take on the responsibility of a relationship, something that used to repel him.

You both decide to spend the night in Rafe’s room. You text Liv that you’re home as you get ready for bed, the high from the drugs leaving your body and being replaced by a heavy fatigue.

When you walk into Rafe’s dorm, he recognizes the pajamas you were wearing the night you met. You watch his eyes travel down your body in a smirk before you turn off the lights.

“What?” you ask, hand on the light-switch, gazing at him as he sits up in his bed, wearing nothing but his boxers.

“I remember those,” he mumbles. “You yelled at me in those.”

“Yelled?” you scoff. “I didn’t yell.”

“You gave me so much attitude.” You roll your eyes with a smile, flipping the switch and plunging the room in darkness.

You feel your way to his bed, sinking on top of him, head digging into the crook of his neck.

“Only because you were so rude,” you respond. “Maybe you deserve attitude.”

“What else do I deserve?” Rafe asks, his hands dragging up your back, eyelids heavy. You chuckle and shift to lie on your side and rest your head on his warm chest, feeling his heartbeat.

You close your eyes, arm draped over him, cupping a hand around his hip, rubbing your thumb over his skin.

He has never been touched like this. Affection just for the sake of affection. It’s unlike anything else.

“You deserve anything you want,” you say sleepily. You mean it.

Rafe’s not sure if that’s true. But all he wants is you, endlessly and with no conditions. And he’ll do whatever it takes to deserve you.

He doesn’t know why he ever denied himself the pleasure of spending his first moments awake with you in his arms. Last time you woke up together, he was relieved you rushed out of his room. Now, he just might lose his mind if you leave.

You’re loosely tethered together, your leg over his, your cheek against his shoulder. His chin is resting on your head and he fights the impulse to hug you tighter, not wanting to wake you up.

You start to stir a few minutes later, burrowing against his shoulder, smelling the familiar, perfect aroma of his skin.

“Knew you liked cuddling,” you tease, voice thick with fatigue. Rafe’s chuckle is so innocent that it makes your cheeks warm. You’re in disbelief that last night happened.

“What time is it?” you ask.

“Dunno,” he says with a grunt, shifting to grab his phone from his dresser. “I didn’t wanna check and wake you up.”

“Wow,” you coo. “You’re already doing a great job as a boyfriend.”

The word makes his heart leap.

“You remember last night, huh?” he asks. Truthfully, he was a bit worried you were too high to recall everything you said.

“Did you want me to forget?” you say.

“Not a fucking chance.” He unlocks his phone to check the time, but a text from an hour ago takes all his attention.

Sam: yo wtf happened? you trying to get kicked out??

You turn to get comfortable, the side you were lying on aching now, your back flush against his torso.

“The time?” you say tiredly. Rafe turns to spoon you, lips pressing against the back of your head.

He doesn’t know how to say it. He’s pissed off beyond belief at himself for how he acted last night. So he just shows you. He holds his phone in front of you and your eyes travel over the text.

You think back to how frantic Rafe was last night outside of the house after shoving Blake. You don’t know much about fraternities, but getting aggressive like he did against a brother last night seems like a big deal.

It’s his fault for losing his cool, but you can’t help but feel bad for him, knowing he was fuelled by jealousy and protectiveness and insecurity. Nonetheless, he couldn’t control his temper and the consequences might be rough.

“It’s fixable, right?” you say, hopefully. You heard Blake say he was done, but he can’t really be done, can he?

Rafe sighs and puts his phone away, then drapes a heavy arm over your waist.

“Doubt it,” he says bitterly. Your heart aches. At first, you thought frats were just an excuse to party, but you can see how much joy it brings Rafe to be part of something. And now it might be taken away.

“What if you talk to him?” you say. “It’s worth a try, don’t you think?”

“I’m not…” Rafe sighs. He’s never been great at talking things out.

“What?” you ask.

“I don’t know what I’d say,” he admits. And the thought of grovelling to Blake to not go to the president of the frat, if he hasn’t already, is humiliating.

“You’d say what you’re thinking,” you say simply. “You did it with me and look how nice that worked out.”

Rafe smiles, glad you can offer him some relief while he’s so flustered.

“Real nice,” he says lazily, his hand sliding down over your hip. His fingers slip under the elastic of your pajama bottoms, dropping to press over your panties.

“Hey,” you breathe. “I know what you’re doing.”

“What am I doing?” His voice reverberates through you as he runs two fingers up and down your middle, the pressure firm and sweet.

“Avoiding your feelings,” you say, breath hitching, “and trying to distract me.”

“Maybe I just wanna touch you,” he rasps, pushing your panties to the side and dipping a finger against your entrance. You tremble under the tender touch.

“I’m being serious,” you say.

“So am I.” His pulse quickens as he feels how warm and soft you are, trailing up to your clit and massaging you slowly.

“Rafe,” you try to assert yourself, but your body naturally tilts towards his touch.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Talk about it,” you say. “Tell me what you were thinking.” Your mind replays how angry he looked last night, how harsh and loud his tone was with a man he thought mistreated you.

“Hmm,” he mumbles, shifting to kiss and suck on your neck. “I was thinking that it killed me to imagine someone else doing this to you…” He’s slow with every circle he traces. “Making you feel like this.”

“Only you can make me feel like this,” you whisper. He exhales deeply. You know just how to wind him up.

“Yeah?” he says. You feel him growing against you. You bite your lip, realizing just how much he loves praise, surely taking every bit he can get with more appreciation that he can show. “No more pointers, huh?”

“None,” you say. “You know exactly what to do.”

Rafe loves that you’re so vocal now, partly because the compliments go straight to his head, but mostly because it means you’re not shy or ashamed about your own pleasure anymore.

He lowers his hand to tease your cunt again, feeling how much you’ve pooled for him.

“So wet for me,” he whispers, his cock starting to ache. “How’d I get you all to myself?”

You breathe through your smile, understanding now that all of Rafe’s words during sex before couldn’t have just been great dirty talk.

You had no idea he was yearning for you this badly. That his jealousy wasn’t only carnal like you told yourself it was.

“I want you inside me,” you say. Rafe groans against your skin, savoring the feeling of being so wanted. You’ve seen him at his worst and still desire all of him. He’s waiting to wake up from the dream that’s you.

You help him push down your bottoms, feeling him shuffle to pull himself out of his boxers. You hike up your leg and feel his hand at the back of your knee, holding you up.

When he pushes into you, your flesh like velvet, he feels complete like he always does with you.

Rafe’s rhythm is slow as he fucks you from behind, the tension in you coiling at a sweet, gentle pace.

“Right there,” you sigh as he hits deep with every thrust. “That’s so good.”

You pull his big hand up to your mouth, kissing the back of it softly. Rafe is on another planet. He thought fucking you was already perfect, but doing it with your hearts so open instead of just your bodies is mind-blowing.

“My sweet girl,” he groans. “You want me to cum inside you?”

“Yes,” you whisper. “I’m yours.” Once your words hit his ears, he hugs you tighter, squeezing you with pure adoration as he rocks in and out of you slowly.

“Fuck,” he mumbles, lips wet against your shoulder. “I’m yours, too, baby.”

He fills you so nicely, moving like he has all the time in the world.

You’re both in raptures of delight as you cum, warm bodies pressed hard together, existing in a perfect moment made just for you two.

You fall back asleep and he dozes off behind you, dazed.

It’s almost noon when you stir awake again. Rafe is on his phone, scrolling quietly, waiting for you to wake up. You give him a smile as you pull yourself out of his bed and adjust your bottoms.

“Haven’t you heard of aftercare?” he teases, saying it in the same tone you did the night of the beach party. You laugh, rubbing your eyes with your knuckles.

You pretend to sigh out of irritation, leaning over and kissing his forehead.

“There. A-plus?”

“Not even a pass,” Rafe replies.

“Next time,” you quip. “I’m gonna get ready and then let’s get some food? That’s something couples do, just so you know.”

He loves hearing refer to you two as a couple.

Not many places on-campus are open on Sundays, so after you both get dressed, Rafe drives you to a popular restaurant in town.

As you expected, it’s effortless with him. You both intertwine jokes into your flowing conversations, eyes locked on each other, cheeks hurting from how much you’re smiling.

Rafe didn’t know it could be this easy with someone. Neither did you.

He picks up the bill and holds your hand as you walk back to the car. He rushes to open the door for you, making you laugh in endearment.

“The boyfriend stuff comes naturally to you,” you say, lowering onto the passenger side seat. You don’t see him look shy very often, but when he lowers his eyes and smirks, you can tell the compliment means something to him.

When Rafe starts the car and passes you his phone to pick a song, you choose the first one he played in his room the night of the dorm party.

“Oh, you liked this one?” he teases once the first few notes float out of the speakers, thinking back to the way he had you moaning on his desk.

“I bet I knew it before you,” you reply.

“Couples have… like, songs, right?” Rafe asks awkwardly, putting his hand on your thigh.

“Aw, you want this to be our song?” you coo. “That’s so cute.”

“Shut up,” he laughs.

You put his phone down, eyes trailing over his profile. He squeezes your thigh. For someone who was so against affection, Rafe seems to love it.

You wonder why he restricted himself from what he seems to have wanted for so long, but when you remember how afraid he seemed of fucking things up last night, you realize he has a bit of a self-sabotaging streak when it comes to expressing himself.

“Did you text Sam back?” you ask.

“No,” he says simply.

“Do you want to stop at the house to talk to Blake?”

Rafe just stares ahead, biting the inside of his cheek.

“The longer you wait, the weirder it’ll be,” you say gently. He swallows hard. He knows you’re right.

“I don’t know what I’m gonna say,” he admits after a moment.

“You regret what happened last night, right?”

“Yeah.” He’s still embarrassed that he snapped at Blake over something he didn’t even do.

“Start there,” you say. ”Apologize. Just be honest.”

Rafe drops you off at your dorm, feeling awkward as hell when he drives to the frat house and faces Blake. Thankfully, Blake hasn’t gone to the president with what happened.

Taking your advice, Rafe tells him the truth about how started losing his head when he started losing you. He’d rather die than have to be open with someone he’s been holding animosity over for so long, but Blake seems to appreciate it.

Thankfully, Blake agrees that he doesn’t need to be kicked out for a drunken push, especially since he came to apologize the next day. Rafe has you to thank for that.

“Gossip spreads fast but I’ll say it was a misunderstanding if anyone asks,” Blake says as he walks Rafe out of the house. “Don’t forget about the code of conduct, man.”

Even though Rafe knows he should be grateful he’s not being kicked out, he still has to stifle an eye roll.

“So, we good?” Rafe says.

“Yeah,” Blake says. “You’re volunteering this weekend, right?”

Rafe’s been dreading the fundraising carwash. He thought he could fly under the radar and get away from a day of labor in the sun, but he can’t really say no to anything with being a first-year pledge. Especially now that he just narrowly escaped being kicked out of the frat.

Rafe agrees to participate. And when he tells you about it, you’re much more thrilled about it than he is.

“So, you’re going to be all wet and soapy?” you say with a grin, sitting on your bed together after Rafe gets back from the house and tells you what happened.

“I can get like that now if you want,” he mumbles. You laugh, the memory of hooking up with him in the shower still fresh in your mind.

“We’re lucky we didn’t get caught yesterday,” you say. “You wanna almost get kicked out of here, too?”

Rafe smiles, leaning in to kiss you. When you pull apart, you look at him for a moment, eyes tracing down his handsome features.

“I’m really happy it worked out,” you say. It would have crushed you to watch him lose his spot in his frat, knowing how happy it makes him.

Rafe loses all concentration when he sees the sincerity in your eyes. He doesn’t think he’s ever known someone so sweet.

“That formal thing is coming up,” he says once he catches himself, looking down at your lips again.

“If you’re not going to be wet and soapy, I’m not interested,” you respond. Truthfully, you love the idea of seeing him in a suit.

“You’re annoying,” Rafe laughs, shuffling closer to kiss you again.

“You’re annoying,” you reply, your noses bumping. “It’s a Sadie Hawkins dance, right? Girls ask the guys?”

“Go with me,” he says, breath hot on your cheek.

“Did you not hear what I just said?” you laugh. “Girls ask-”

“I don’t care.”

“I was going to ask you.” Your faces remain inches away from each other, talking between kisses.

“Then do it if you really want to.”

“Do you want to go-”

“Yeah,” Rafe interrupts, kissing you again. You giggle against his lips.

That Saturday afternoon, you and Liv are sitting are in her car in front of the Sigma Chi house, the carwash in full swing.

You both laugh when you notice Sam whip a sponge at the side of the car in front of you. You finally find Rafe in the scattered crowd of shirtless boys, baseball hat on backwards, holding a big yellow sponge, wringing it over a bucket.

He looks good. You’ve seen his muscular, commanding body so many times by now, but it excites you every time.

You open your window all the way and catcall him. When Rafe’s gaze meets yours, he smiles. You always look so beautiful to him, your grin so bright.

He walks over to the car, hands on the frame, leaning low to meet your eyes.

“Need some help?” you tease. “You seem to be struggling.” Rafe gazes down your body, loving the idea of seeing you drenched in the short dress you’re wearing.

“No flirting on the clock, dude,” Sam shouts, approaching the car, bending to smile at Liv through her open window. “It’s only okay if I do it.”

In retaliation, Rafe holds your face in his wet hands, kissing you. The gesture earns a few suggestive shouts from his frat brothers.

“We’re supposed to be working, Rafe,” Sam jeers. Rafe flips him off.

“You might wanna roll up the window, baby,” Rafe says quietly to you. “You can hang out in front of the house after.”

You and Liv are in hysterics as the boys hose down and sponge Liv’s car, some of them pressing their bodies up against the windows.

After the show, Liv parks down the street and you two sit on the front steps of the frat house, talking and watching the action. You stare at Rafe the entire time, noticing how girls in cars smile and try to flirt with him.

About ten minutes later, Rafe approaches you, greeting you and Liv. You already caught her up on everything that happened between you and Rafe and she wasn’t surprised in the slightest.

“What’s up?” you say.

“Need a break.” He adjusts his hat, his wet skin glistening in the sunshine. Truthfully, he just wants to talk to you.

“Does pretending to clean cars make you tired?” you ask.

“Pretending?” Rafe scoffs. “I’m working my ass off.”

“I’m gonna go say hi to Sam,” Liv says with a smile, purposely giving you two privacy. Rafe takes her spot when she leaves, sitting next to you on the steps, his leg pressed up against yours.

“I saw you staring,” he says smugly, nudging your knee with his.

“How could I not?” you say. Rafe feels his cheeks flush with heat. He’s still getting used to the fact that you want him. Really want him.

You notice his eyes trail up your legs, and just to tease him, you drag your hands over your thighs, pinching the hemline of your dress.

“You like my dress?” you ask. You watch Rafe’s jaw tighten as he leans closer to you.

“You’re making me hard,” he mumbles. Your entire body goes hot, looking down at his lap, imagining how good he always feels inside of you.

“We should do something about it,” you say. Your own boldness doesn’t surprise you anymore. Thanks to Rafe, you’re no longer shy asking for what you want.

“Everybody’s outside,” he says, eyes darting to the empty house behind you. You excitedly take his hand.

Rafe leads you to the large, quiet rec room downstairs, and his hands are immediately all over you, sunkissed skin pressing against yours.

He settles on the loveseat, guiding you to straddle him, your dress up around your hips.

“You knew what you were doing wearing this,” he says gruffly, sliding his hands over your ass.

“What? It’s hot out,” you say.

“You gonna keep acting all shy and innocent?”

You perch up to feel his hard length over his shorts. You start to stroke over the fabric, gripping tight.

“Yeah, like that,” he praises. “My good girl. Tell me what you wanna do.”

“I wanna ride you,” you say.

“Fuck,” Rafe grunts with a lazy smile. He kisses you passionately, fingers burying into the flesh of your ass as you grind on him, growing wetter.

The feeling of his hard cock rubbing against you is overwhelming, making you ache for him. Your hands are fast and shaky as you sit up to peel your panties off, watching him pull his shorts down.

He holds himself at his base for you to easily sink onto him, lowering with a sharp inhale. He dips his head back, moaning quietly, eyes squeezing shut.

The brim of his hat pushes against the back of the couch, frustrating him. He pulls it off, and instead of tossing it away, he decides to put it on your head.

“Hold this for me,” he says with a smirk, cradling your cheek.

“You’re never getting it back.” You arch your back as you start to roll your hips, your hands on his shoulders. Your pussy squeezes him so nicely, walls tight around him.

“Damn,” he shudders, watching you, thinking about how cute you look with his hat on and your face relaxed in pleasure. “I’ll give you anything you fucking want.”

“Yeah?” you whisper, planting a chaste kiss on his lips. “All I want is you.”

The words make his heart beat even faster.

“You have me,” Rafe promises breathily. “You have me, baby.”

Your lips meet again as you rock and bounce on him, tight around his girth, head spinning from how big he is and how deep he reaches.

Your hands squeeze his shoulders tightly as you reach your peak. You keep riding him through the overstimulation, taking the help from him as he grips your ass and controls the pace.

Rafe’s breaths quickly grow shallow, panting in your ear as he bucks into you, pulsing through his orgasm.

You sit like that, joined together and kissing for a few minutes, before you pull apart and share a smile.

Throughout the next week leading up to the Sadie Hawkins dance, Rafe texts you random questions, asking you to name your favorite flowers, your favorite sweets, your favorite meal, your favorite drink.

Once he seems to be out of questions, you text him: wow… you sure you havent been a boyfriend before?

The message makes him so proud that he screenshots it.

The night of the formal, Rafe knocks a few minutes before the time you agreed he’d pick you up. You slip into your heels, smooth down your dress and open the door.

You’re striking. There’s no other word for it. The fact that you’re his sends him on a bit of a mental spiral.

“Early,” you tease. “Someone’s eager.” You notice how nicely he fills out his suit, how pretty the bouquet in his hand is.

He can’t tease you back. He can’t say anything. You’re stunning.

“You look so handsome,” you beam. “Are those for me or are you gonna hold them all night?”

Rafe holds your favorite flowers out to you with an awestruck smile.

“Thank you,” you say sweetly.

“Baby, you…” Rafe shakes his head. “I’m not gonna be able to keep my hands off of you.”

“Then don’t,” you say, putting down the flowers away and taking his hand as you leave your room.

As promised, Rafe won’t stop touching you all night. You’re seated at one of many draped tables amongst frat brothers and their dates.

Liv is across the table with Sam, taking pictures with him on a Polaroid. They both look just as happy as you assume you and Rafe look.

Rafe’s hand is on your knee under the table, rubbing in circles. You lean in closer to him, mouth by his ear.

“Remember when you had a tantrum about holding my hand?” you joke. “Now look at you.”

“I was an idiot,” he replies. He dips his hand to your inner thigh, trying to guide you to sit on his lap. You give in.

“This is supposed to be a classy event,” you laugh, draping an arm around him, looking around at the massive, ornate banquet hall.

“You guys are so cute that it’s gross,” Liv shouts over the music, holding out her camera. “Smile.”

You roll your eyes at her comment and put up your middle finger, realizing Rafe is doing the same at the moment she takes the photo.

“God, you two were made for each other,” she says, amused. Rafe watches you as you laugh, feeling fortunate that you seem to wholeheartedly agree with your friend.

He’s not one for slow dancing, or dancing at all, but when he later notices you looking out at the floor filled with couples swaying together, he tries to force away his discomfort.

“You want to go out there?” he says. You glance at him, melting under his sweet gaze, noticing just how tense he looks.

“We won’t dance if you don’t want to dance,” you say. While he’s working hard to be a good boyfriend, you want to work just as hard to be a good girlfriend and make sure he’s comfortable.

The way you say your words is enough for him to stand up and take your hand. He doesn’t feel awkward as soon as he’s looking down at you on the dance floor, following your lead and your pace.

When the song ends, you walk back towards the table and notice Blake a few feet away, holding a grinning girl.

You’re glad that he let Rafe stay in the frat even though he could have been kicked out for trying to fight one of his brothers. And you meant it when you said you think he deserves a great girl. He seems happy.

As you sit down, Rafe follows your gaze and when he sees you’re smiling at Blake, a burning, painful jealousy flares deep inside.

He steps away towards the bar, wishing they were serving alcohol. He feels the familiar sensation of his temper bubbling up and his muscles tightening.

It’s been a few minutes without Rafe and you look to the bar to see him standing there alone. Something feels off.

“Hey,” you say, squeezing his forearm when you approach him. Rafe looks down at you with irritation, shoulder squared away from you.

“Hey,” he says flatly.

“What’s wrong?” you ask. Rafe’s lips firm as he glances away, taking a sip of his soda.

Confusion and sadness fill you. You should have figured Rafe’s flaws, like his moodiness, wouldn’t simply go away after making things official, but the sensation he’s giving you is uncomfortable and hard to swallow.

“Do you think I’m an idiot?” he mutters.

“What?”

“You do,” he says with a sarcastic chuckle. “You obviously do.”

“What are you talking about?”

He finally meets your gaze. This is the Rafe you saw so many times over the past few weeks, pissed off and short-tempered. And he knows by now that you don’t tolerate it.

“Why’d you look at him like that?” he mutters.

“At who?”

“At-” Rafe tenses up even more, shooting daggers across the hall. “At Blake.”

“How did I look at him, hmm?” you say, crossing your arms. “Tell me.”

“You were smiling at him.”

“You wanna know why I was smiling?” you ask. Rafe’s mind resorts to assuming you’ll say you chose wrong and that you wish you were here with Blake instead.

“Why?”

“Because I was thinking about how glad I am that he didn’t try to get you kicked out since I know how happy being in a frat makes you,” you explain. “And because it’s nice that he looks happy with that girl. You think I’d smile at the sight of him with another girl if I liked him?”

Rafe steps back, jaw still clenched. For a moment, it feels like he’s still living in the days of agonizingly pining over to you, watching you with another guy.

“You think I don’t get jealous, too?” you say.

“What? When do you-”

“At the carwash. Girls were looking at you all day,” you admit.

“What?” he almost laughs, endeared beneath the pain. He can’t even imagine entertaining another girl.

“Sometimes jealousy comes up in a relationship, Rafe. But this isn’t how you handle it.”

You step away and head towards your seat, frustrated and disappointed.

Rafe finds it hard to come down from his anger, the cruel fear of inadequacy still stinging him. But eventually, he sits down next to you, placing your favorite drink on the table in front of you.

“My bad, okay?” he says, an edge to his tone. You look at him through apprehensive eyes, taking a sip from the cup he gave you.

“You don’t have anything to be jealous of,” you say softly, putting your hand on his under the table.

“I was…” He clears his throat, leaning closer. “I was… thinking that maybe you thought you made the wrong choice.”

The look of pure disbelief on your face calms his racing thoughts. You smile in shock, shaking your head in quick, short jerks.

“The wrong choice was not knocking on your door to tell you to shut up sooner,” you tell him. He looks down at his lap with a small smile.

“Rafe,” you say.

“Yeah?”

“I pick you, okay? Every time. You’re the right choice.”

Rafe’s chest loses its tension. Even in such a loud, crowded hall, you somehow quieted things down for him. He doesn’t know how he’ll ever feel worthy enough for you.

When you make it back to the dorm, you part to get ready for bed. You take the Polaroid Liv gave you out of your purse, smiling at the image of you sitting on Rafe’s lap in formal wear, both of you flipping the camera off with amused smirks.

You tack it onto your wall amongst your other photos. It sums up your playful relationship so well.

Rafe knocks at your door minutes later. At this point, you hardly ever sleep separately.

Within seconds, you’re in your bed, Rafe hovering over you, kissing your lips, your cheeks, your face. Your desk lamp is on, offering both of you a dim, warm light to look at each other in.

You taste his toothpaste and smell his cologne as you kiss, feeling like you’re floating every time you’re under him.

Once he has your bra tossed over your chair, his hot mouth is on your chest, tongue playing with the peaks of your breasts.

You rake your fingers through his hair just the way he likes as he sucks languidly, squeezing gently.

“I love that only I get to do this to you,” Rafe rasps. He was staring at you in awe all night, feeling like he’s dreaming knowing you’re his.

“I don’t want anybody else,” you breathe, trembling in anticipation below him.

His eyes are glazed over when he dips his mouth between your legs, savoring your taste. You tremble as his tongue works over your clit, flattening and tracing shapes.

“How does this pussy get sweeter every time, hmm?” he praises. “You taste so fucking good.”

His hands are still on your tits while he eats you out slowly, burying his face in your middle. He’s sucking and licking at a perfect rate, your moans like music to his ears.

You need all of him now, unable to wait any longer.

“Fuck me,” you whimper. “Please.”

He loves it when you beg.

Rafe melts into you, sliding in and out of you with a hard, fast pressure, the sound of your skin slapping filling your small room. You wrap your legs around him, plastered together in delicious harmony.

Your gazes are locked the whole time and you appreciate every feature of his face, from his eyes to his lips.

He’s hard and rough and vigorous as he gets closer, your bed squeaking, his hand cupping your head, his thumb rubbing over your cheekbone.

Your peak comes in shockwaves, uttering his name as you unravel beneath him. His orgasm weaves in with yours, his body tensing before he loosens completely, losing himself in you.

Rafe pulls out and stays hovering over you, propped up on his elbows, while the rest of his body covers you like a blanket. He gazes at you with adoring eyes, revelling in how you look when you’re so pleased.

He feels like an idiot for ever assuming he’d want something solely physical with you. That he wouldn’t want all of you.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” he says.

“For what?” you laugh. “That was… nothing to be sorry for.”

“Before, when I said I was satisfied,” he says, guilt still eating away at him even though he said it weeks ago. “I lied. I’ll never get enough of you. It…”

“It what?”

“Don’t laugh.”

“I won’t.”

“It scares the shit out of me. How much I like you.”

The butterflies in your stomach go crazy.

“Rafe,” you say with a sad smile, placing your hand on his cheek, your heart heavy. “I’m scared, too. But the whole point of this is trusting we won’t hurt each other.”

“What if I keep fucking up like I did tonight?” he mumbles. He’s terrified that he’ll be a victim to his own temper and insecurity forever, eventually driving you away.

“I’m not asking for perfection,” you say. “I’m just asking that you’re direct with me when something’s bothering you. And that you try to fix it when you do fuck up. Because I’m never going to blame you for having feelings. Ever.”

Rafe’s eyelids drop as he looks down at your lips, nodding, half-convinced. You take a deep breath, hoping your next words aren’t too raw.

“That one day, I… I heard you get yelled at… for crying,” you say. Embarrassment pricks his skin and Rafe drops his head, resting his cheek on your sternum, hearing your heartbeat. He can’t look at you.

Your fingers rake into his locks again, heart still aching from overhearing his father’s words.

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper. “I only brought it up to tell you that you don’t deserve that. It’s okay to feel things. I know you think it’s weak but it’s not. Has he always done that to you?”

He only nods.

“That’s…” You don’t have the words, disgusted and angry.

“Maybe he’s right. I should man up.”

“Man up? That’s what he tells you? God,” you mutter. “You are a man. That shit is so stupid. I’m so glad I yelled at him.”

Rafe remembers how jarred he was when he saw how pissed off you were, snapping at his father, a man you’ve never met before.

“Nobody’s ever done that for me.” He wanted to tell you this the day it happened, but his jealousy ruined things when you smiled at a text from Blake.

Something in you shatters thinking of Rafe as a young boy, being berated, nobody standing up for him. He must have felt so lonely.

“Well, I’ll keep doing it,” you promise, feeling protective as hell over him.

Rafe didn’t know what having a girlfriend meant. He never expected he’d feel so safe with someone.

“And I’ll fuck up, too, okay?” you say. “And I’ll just buy you more protein powder when I do. That’s like flowers for you, right?”

Rafe chuckles, squeezing your hip.

“You won’t fuck up.”

“I will,” you laugh. “I’m not perfect.”

“Yes, you are,” he mumbles. “Don’t say that shit ever again.”

“You’re kind of setting me up for failure, frat boy,” you joke. He lifts his head to look at you again, his heart racing. Then something catches his eye on your wall.

Rafe can’t find the words when he sees it. It’s the Polaroid of you and him from earlier tonight, flipping the camera off.

He remembers the first night he was in this room, looking at your photos, thinking how pretty you were. And now he’s part of this collection. Part of your life.

“What?” you say.

“The picture,” he says.

“I can make you a copy if you really want one,” you tease, still playing with his hair.

Life has never felt brighter for him. He does want a copy. He immediately imagines it sitting in his wallet, inside his phone case, on his dashboard. He’s already planning to take a photo of it and make an Instagram post with the lyrics of your song.

Rafe shifts to kiss you again, allowing the bliss and awe and fear and vulnerability to take over.

He started this wanting no strings attached. Now he’ll be tying you together for as long as you let him.

(the end)

author’s note: writing “the end” is always more bitter than it is sweet 🥲 thank you to everyone who read and supported this series! if you had a “couple song” in mind, let me know what it was - i’m curious! i found “miss summer” by odie was my fav song to listen to when writing the fluff scenes hehe i think it covers how rafe feels perfectly. love you all 💋

if you want notifications on when i post my fics, follow @xorafe-library and turn on notifications 💘

#xorafe #rafe cameron #fic rec

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