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simpforboys · 8 months

Text

what you need

rafe cameron x f!kook!reader, slight jj maybank x f!kook!reader

summary: when Rafe hears about your desire for JJ, he quickly steps in to remind you of what you actually need.

warnings: smut!! dirty talk, possessiveness, mostly canon!rafe, swearing, oral (f receiving), unprotected piv sex, creampie, fluff, drug/alcohol use, degradation, terms (slut, whore, bitch, etc), breeding kink, kinda cnc (?)

based on what you need by abel tesfaye (the weeknd)

not proof read!! (as always) <3

it fucking killed Rafe that you slowly stopped answering his messages.

it fucking killed Rafe that you slowly began to hang out more with JJ Maybank.

and it fucking killed Rafe when he found out you fucked JJ Maybank.

twice.

Rafe hadn’t seen you for a few months. while the two of you had an on and off fling, everyone in Kildare knew you were Rafe’s.

no one dared to question the Kook Prince, especially since the rumors of his decreasing sanity went around.

Rafe was with Barry, the strong scent of marijuana and beer in Barry’s little trailer.

Rafe set up a line with his credit card, snorting the powdery white substance. he leaned back against the couch, closing his eyes slightly as the intense drug coerced through his pumping veins.

“dude, did you hear that Y/n fucked Maybank?” Barry asked suddenly, lighting a cigarette after he snorted his own line of cocaine.

Rafe’s already wide pupils grew wider. the veins in his neck began to bulge as he clenched his jaw.

the reason why it fucking pained Rafe to hear you fucked JJ was because the whole time you two had your fling, you would constantly tease him.

whether you two were on your sofa, your hips moving against his quickly as you chased your orgasm over his clothed cock.

and as soon as you would cum in your panties, you would leave him dry. every. fucking. time.

no matter how badly Rafe wanted to feel your pussy, you held off on him.

and to find out that a worthless fucking pogue got to your pussy before he did? oh, he wished he didn’t see JJ or else he might’ve killed the dude.

Rafe didn’t respond to Barry’s words. all the kook did was light a cigarette, letting it lay low on his lips as he collected his shit. with the keys to his car, and suddenly feeling as sober as ever, Rafe drove out of Barry’s driveway.

you lived a couple blocks away from Rafe on Figure 8. he knew your address like the back of his hand, so when he pulled onto your street he parked his truck on the curb before walking to your front door.

you opened the door, surprised to see Rafe standing there. he had a backwards hat on, a navy blue polo shirt, and tan cargo shorts on.

his baby blue eyes were dark and clouded, the white around his pupils now bright red from the drugs.

“the hell are you doing here? you smell awful.” you asked him, your eyebrows furrowed.

Rafe’s eyes raked down your figure. wearing a lace silk pj set, your breasts peeked over the top as it hung low on your chest.

Rafe paid your question no mind as he walked inside your house. “Rafe-“

“is anyone home?” Rafe asked, still staring out onto your backporch that overlooked the ocean.

“no, what the fuck do you want?” you asked, watching his tall body approach yours. in one swift motion, he captured your lips in his.

he pressed your back against the door, his fingers locking the knobs. his hand moved to your hip, pressing your body to his.

the taste of liquor melted on your tongue as you kissed him back, your core throbbing from the sudden action.

he quickly walked you backwards until you landed onto your plush white couch. your head rested against the patterned pillow as Rafe hovered over you, his hand running down your thigh.

“you gonna be a good girl f’me?” he asked against your lips, moving to kiss and nip down your neck. his eyes practically bulged out of its sockets when he saw a hickey directly on your breast.

a small growl escaped his mouth as you whined with need. you felt his tongue trace the bruised skin, before sucking the flesh into his mouth.

“fucking answer me, Y/n.”

“yes- Rafe, i’ll be a good girl.”

you sighed out as Rafe slid your shirt up, revealing your breasts. his eyes seemed to enlarge at the sight, before he swiftly sucked your left nipple into his mouth.

“tell me what that nasty ass pogue did to you, Y/n. where’d he touch you?” Rafe asks, his voice in a rasp and deeper than normally.

he was so pissed, and his questions made you buck your hips against his abs. “Rafe, is that what this is ab-“

“you’re gonna answer all my fucking questions and behave, understood?” he asked roughly, grabbing your jaw as he forced you to stare at him in the eyes.

what you saw wasn’t the man you were used to, but instead an animal coming to claim his territory. and the idea fucking turned you on.

“he- he sucked my tits…” you trailed off, letting out a small sigh as you felt Rafe’s mouth latch onto your nipple once more.

like he needed to be better than JJ, needed to show you what it’s like to fuck a real man.

“and he…” your face felt warm as you admitted all of this information to Rafe. but his lips felt chilly against your hot skin, and it was driving you insane.

“did he touch you here, Y/n?” Rafe asked suddenly. his fingers danced over your clothed pussy, making you jolt in response.

you nodded at his question.

“he ate me out,” you shyly admitted.

Rafe hummed in response, tugging your shorts down onto the wood floor. he wrapped his arms around your thighs, pulling your body til your pussy was on full display for him.

he spread your legs wide, the cool air hitting your soaked pussy. your clit twitched from the temperature, and the fact that Rafe Cameron was staring at your vagina like it was his last meal before death row.

“yeah? that little fucking pogue touched my pussy?” Rafe asked, kissing and nipping your inner thighs. his knees rested on the rug as he leaned forward into your cunt.

“‘m sorry,” you breathed out. your legs twitched when you felt his hot breath ghost over your clit.

your back arched slightly when finally began his attack on your cunt. he circled his tongue skillfully along your clit, his two fingers going up to collect your juices.

“oh my god, Rafe,” you whimpered. your hands gripped your tits, massaging your nipples.

as Rafe entered his fingers into your cunt, he left a kiss on your clit. “fuck, Y/n. does the pogue have a tiny dick? you’re so fucking tight.”

you couldn’t respond as Rafe’s fingers quickly found the spongey spot inside your walls. your legs began to shake with ecstasy and Rafe’s naughty words weren’t helping.

it was like he studied your body like a map, knowing all the little tricks to get you closer to your orgasm.

so when Rafe began to suck on your clit, he sent small hums from his throat. the action caused it to send vibrations up to your clit, making you almost scream out.

“fuck, just like that.” you told the man, your eyes fluttering shut as a knot formed tightly into your stomach.

you tried to delay your orgasm, knowing that coming within the first three minutes would be embarrassing.

but to Rafe, it made his cock throb with need as he fought to get you to cum on his tongue.

he sped up his fingers, sucking harshly on your clit until he felt your walls contract against his fingers.

you moaned out as you came, your legs shaking as you gripped onto the pillow behind your head.

Rafe gave another kiss to your clit, working on his own shorts. he unbuttoned them and quickly pulled the zipper down, revealing his big cock.

roughly eight inches, with a prominent vein running from the base to his pink tip. pre cum oozed out of the tip, as he used the juices from your cunt to work his hand up and down his cock.

“look at me.” Rafe commanded, making you to leave your euphoric state. your eyes went wide when you saw his dick, standing proudly at you.

“holy shit…” you whispered to yourself, placing your hand on his cock. you felt it twitch against your touch.

“you gonna be a good fucking slut and take it all?” he asked rhetorically, knowing that either way you would take it.

“Rafe i need you.” you said quietly, wanting his large cock inside of you. he was bigger than JJ, but JJ had a slightly bigger girth.

“what was that?” he hummed, using his tip to slap against your clit as he teased you.

“i fucking need you, Rafe.” you admitted out loudly, desperate to finally feel him inside of you.

“don’t you ever fucking forget that, got it?” Rafe said darkly, sliding his member into your cunt.

you let out a small squeal from his sudden roughness. both of you moaned as your walls worked to fit around his massive cock.

as Rafe began to piston his hips, sliding his dick balls deep and pulling out to just the tip, your mind began to grow hazy from the feeling.

it was like your pussy was made for him, Rafe kept telling himself.

“you like that dick, baby? taking it so well… did Maybank fuck you like this? hmm?” Rafe speaks, mostly searching for your validation.

you nod, although you’re barely listening. his cock is hitting your cervix and driving against your g-spot as he pushes in and out of you quickly.

“you’re gonna be a fucking whore for the pogues, gotta show you how a real man fucks.” Rafe murmurs, holding your body tightly so if you made any effort to escape he could stop you.

“Rafe- ‘s too much,” you pant.

“i thought you said you were gonna be a good girl?” he taunted you, his eyes deep with lust as he held the back of your head and neck, forcing you to stare at him as he fucked you.

you didn’t respond to his comment, pure pleasure consuming your body. it felt like he was folding you like a pretzel, your body spread wide and open for him to take you any way he pleased.

and you didn’t seem to mind, not when he can dick you down this good.

“been everyone’s slut but mine, yeah? how’d the town feel knowing that you’re fucking ran through, and didn’t even let me get a piece.”

Rafe was now speaking to himself, but the fact that he was degrading you and making you his bitch almost made you cum.

“this pussy is fucking mine, Y/n. say it.”

“my pussy is yours.” you squeaked out, only half listening to his words as he marked you.

“louder.” he demanded you, slapping your cheek slightly to get you to focus.

“my pussy is yours, Rafe! fuck!” you shouted, clenching your walls against his cock.

the devilish grin that formed on his face was enough to almost send you over the edge, like almost tripping over a mountain edge.

and as your body jolted in his hands, he continued to grunt quietly until soft whimpers escaped his mouth.

the noises barely danced off the tip of his tongue, but fuck, it was like music to your ears. Rafe fucking Cameron, whimpering for you.

“you wanna cum, baby?” he cooed at you, taking his thumb and rubbing circles on your clit.

your eyes rolled to the back of your head from the action, your pussy clenching once again.

“please,” you begged.

“tell me how badly you need it. how badly you need me.”

“Rafe i need to cum so fucking bad. i need you to let me cum- i fucking need you, Rafe.”

your words were coming off broken as you pleaded, taking every fiber of your body to not orgasm right there.

“cum on this dick, Y/n.” Rafe demanded, continuing to fuck you through your orgasm.

the way you entire body convulsed caused Rafe’s dick to twitch inside your cunt, making him so fucking close.

your cunt was perfect and he couldn’t imagine fucking anyone else after you.

“you want me to cum in this fucking cunt? show everyone that you’re my little pregnant whore?” he coos, his smirk still on his face as he bit his lip at the idea.

“i wanna be your pregnant little whore, Rafe.” you responded, catching him off guard. you felt the way he twitched once more.

“fuck, you’re gonna look so hot carrying my baby. mark you as mine so this whole fucking town knows not to go near you.” Rafe says, sucking on your tit as he cums.

his seed shoots inside of you, coating your walls with his kids. you ran your hand through his hair, his hat thrown somewhere off to the side. you both panted against each other, trying to find your breath from the pure ecstasy.

Rafe hugs your body close to his, coming up to rest against the couch. you curl into his arms, tiredness erupting over your body as you yawn.

within minutes, you were passed out on his chest as he pulls a blanket over the two of you.

“i love you, Y/n.” Rafe whispers against your temple, pressing a small, tender kiss to the skin.

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rafesfavgirl · 19 days

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two graves, one gun — r. cameron

sad rafe fic bc i just got my period and i'm feeling extra emotional :')

series: every few lifetimes

❝ so long, london stitches undone two graves, one gun you'll find someone ❞

pairing: bf!rafe x fem!reader

context: after another night of getting coked out and passing out on barry's couch, rafe realizes you deserve better than him and decides to let you go.

words: 1.3k+

warnings: drug addiction, break-up, might make you cry, ANGSTY asl

the sole of your heel taps anxiously against your living room's hardwood floor, as you stared at the time on your phone's lock screen, which lit up with a photo that wheezie took of you and rafe sitting at one of the tables at midsummers last year, looking at each other as if you were the only people there.

8:30 p.m.

your heart aches at the realization that he had forgotten your date again, but the nerves that settle in your stomach win over, as you think about where he probably is.

pushing your weight off the sofa, you grab your car keys from the hooks on the wall, and dial rafe on your way out the door.

straight to voicemail. fuck.

you skip down the steps in front of your house and unlock your car in the driveway to get in, immediately starting the engine to get on your way.

you dial rafe again as you pull into the road—to no avail.

"damn it, rafe," you mutter, eyes switching between the road and your phone as you type him a message.

you: where are you???

when the message doesn't even go through, you let out a frustrated groan. either his phone's dead or it's switched off. you step on the gas to speed up, zigzagging between cars to get there faster.

you pull to an abrupt stop in front of a beat-down house on the south side, and switch the car off before hopping out.

"mrs. country club, what brings you to this side of the island?" barry stands from the porch when he sees you walking towards him, fuming.

"oh spare me the fake hospitality, barry," you tell him. "where is he?"

"where's who?" he shrugs—but you knew he knew what you were talking about.

"don't play dumb with me," you spat, attempting to walk past him. "i know he's here."

he steps to the side to block you from going any further. "maybe so, but it ain't a pretty sight."

"ugh," you manage to walk past him and proceed into the house, with him on your tail. "rafe!"

barry catches up to you and blocks your way again. "hey, i told you-"

"barry, you're really testing my patience here, alright?" you say, refusing to back down. you weren't scared of him—okay, maybe a little, but you weren't about to let him see that. "rafe!"

you push past barry again, and make your way further inside, immediately rushing to rafe, who was passed out face-down on barry's couch.

"oh my god, rafe!" you crouch down beside him, not missing the un-sniffed lines of coke on the wooden table in front of him, and pick up his head in your hands. "baby, baby," you gently pat his face with your hand. "can you hear me?"

"told you it wasn't a pretty sight," barry leans against a wooden post and watches you, making you roll your eyes.

"rafe," you try to wake him up again. "babe."

thankfully, his eyes flutter open, relief washing over you as you let out a sigh. "oh thank god."

"y/n?" his voice is barely above a whisper when his eyes lock with yours. "shit!"

you move aside when he suddenly sits up, searching the couch cushions for his phone. "what time is it?"

"rafe-"

"no, fuck!" he shouts when he realizes his phone is dead, and looks up at barry. "i told you to wake me up if i knocked out!"

"i'm not your keeper, cameron," barry shrugs. "just take your shit and go, a'ight?"

"baby…" rafe turns to you kneeling on the ground beside him, his voice much softer now. "i swear i set an alarm— i was just— i didn't think my phone would die and-"

"hey," you place your hand on top of his, squeezing it lightly to make him look at you. "don't worry about it. let's just get out of here, okay?"

he nods, and you stand up, dusting yourself off as you do.

"i'll meet you in the car, doll," he tells you. "i just gotta take care of something."

—

the car ride back to your house is almost completely silent, until rafe breaks it.

"you look beautiful, by the way," he says, eyes shifting to you.

you glance at him, a small smile on your lips. "thank you."

"god, i'm such an idiot!" he groans, clearly frustrated with himself over the situation. "how many missed dates is that this month?"

"rafe, i told you not to worry about it," you tell him. "it's okay, i get-"

"y/n," his voice is stern now, his eyes burning holes into your skin. "how many?"

you sigh, turning the wheel towards the curb to park the car in front of your house. "four," you answer, switching the ignition off. "that was the fourth one this month."

rafe scoffs and shakes his head, eyes averting away from you. he just couldn't look at you anymore, because he knew that even if you didn't show it, you were disappointed. not only at him, but maybe even yourself for putting up with him.

"hey," you place a hand on his knee, and he glances down at the gesture, before finally looking at you. "it's okay."

"how is it okay?" he asks, eyebrows furrowing. "all i do is disappoint you."

"baby, that's not true," you try to reassure him, but he doesn't buy it.

"it is true," he tells you. "and you don't deserve it."

not knowing what to say, you just glance down at your hand on his knee. "rafe…"

"no," he cuts you off, and places his hand above yours to slowly push it off of him. "i can't keep doing this to you."

letting out a sigh, you adjust yourself in your seat so you're looking at him. "okay, rafe, before you saying anything else— i love you, alright? there's nothing you can do that-"

"and that's exactly the problem, a'ight?" he snaps. "you're never gonna walk away from me yourself! even when i bought this shit from barry after i told you to wait in the car." he reaches into his pocket and tosses the small bag of blow in between the two of you. your eyes shift from it to him, the uneasiness in your stomach only getting worse.

"i have a problem y/n," he tells you. "and it's not the kind you can just 'fix' with love."

"then we'll get you help. we'll do any-" you try to reach out to him, but he resists.

"no," he says, motioning a hand between you two. "this has to end."

the words you dreaded hearing comes out of his mouth in one fell swoop, your heart shattering into a million pieces.

"what?"

"i'm never gonna be the guy you need me to be," he shakes his head at you, and if it weren't so dark outside, you swear you'd see his eyes watering. "and since you can't let go, i have to do it for you."

tears brim along your lower lashes as you speak, "no. that is not your choice to make."

"god, y/n, can you stop making this harder than it already is?" he pleads.

"can you stop acting like it's so easy?" you retort.

"you think this is easy?" he asks, taken aback by your accusation. "it kills me to do this."

"then don't," you say, voice cracking as you reach out for his hands. "we can work through your addiction together, rafe. we'll-"

"that's not your responsibility," he shakes his head at you. "if i'm gonna get better, i need to do it on my own."

you sob, "i— i don't want this to be the end.”

rafe glances down at your hands, before bringing his hand up to cup your cheek.

you lean into his touch, and a single tear rolls down your cheek—one that he wipes away with his thumb.

"i love you so much," he says, eyes closing as his head tilted down against yours. "i'm sorry."

his lips place a soft kiss on your forehead, and just like that, he's gone.

part 2.

reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33

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starkeysbaby · 10 months

Note

I just thought of Rafe with a sleepy gf reader who falls asleep anywhere anytime. His truck, midsummers, party’s, in the middle of a convo. Idk why but I love the concept

omg i absolutley LOVE this concept!

A/N: I APOLOGISE FOR LATE UPLOAD. I HAD MAJOR WRITERS BLOCK, BUT IM BACK NOW!

Sleepy Girl

pairing: rafe cameron x sleepy!reader [est. relationship]

warnings: none i think lol? [lemme know if you find any]

summary: numerous scenarios of when rafe cameron takes care of his sleepy girl

rafe cameron masterlist main masterlist

in his truck

It had been half an hour since you had told rafe that you were tired before ending the two hour long facetime call you two had been on. It had been half an hour of you trying to get to sleep. Despite being tired, you couldn't manage to fall asleep which was surprising for you as you'd usually be out within minutes after your head hit the pillows. After a few more minutes of struggling you decided to see if rafe was still awake.

*messages with rafe*

About ten minutes later you got a text from rafe saying he was outside. While he would usually come get you himself, at night you told him it'd be best if waits in the car so you guys don't wake your sleeping parents. "Hi beautiful" you heard him say as you got into rafe's truck and put your seatbelt on before he could ask you to. His free hand immediately found it's place on your thigh like it always did during your drives. "Hi, thanks for this" you blushed at his compliment from seconds ago. "Anything for you" he smiled as he started driving with no indication of where he was going. This wasn't the first time the two of you would go on drives when one of you was restless (almost always you) so as usual he would just drive around the obx until you both called it a night.

You continued on your drive having small, random, meaningless but interesting conversations as some random song quietly played through the speakers in the background. As you heard rafe talk about his new project with his dad at cameron development, you couldn't help but smile at him, feeling proud and happy at how much his relationship with his dad has improved and how his attitude towards life in general has changed for the better. The sound of his voice and his thumb rubbing against your thigh lulled you sleep causing rafe to gently pull over and place the blanket he kept in the back over you. He looked over at your sleepy form at a red light and couldn't help but to admire you "love you, my sleepy girl"

at parties (imagine this in a reality where kooks and pouges get along lol)

Kelce had thrown yet another end of school party despite it already being halfway into summer. The teens of the obx were always looking for an excuse to have houseparties, keggers, get togethers, you name it. If it had booze, drugs and people their age, they were down. Not that you were complaining though, you loved having a reason to get all dressed up and spend a night with your best friends and boyfriend. Although you were quite tired today and when vocalising this to rafe and your friends they all replied with something along the lines of "when aren't you". JJ in particular begged you to come and dared you to not fall asleep before 2 am. After a little persuasion and a bet formed between you and jj stating that the loser cleans the others car/bike for the next month, you were down.

At around 1:00 am you all (you, rafe, sarah, kie, cleo, john b, jj, pope, kelce, topper, barry and some other mutual friends) had found yourselves sitting on kelce's rather large balcony alternating between random convos and playing stupid party games such as truth or dare. You were sat in rafe's lap with his arms around you, one of his hands stroking your thigh whilst the other held a beer.

Feeling yourself grow tired you moved your face to bury it into rafe's chest almost forgetting about your bet with jj before you hear barry's voice booming. "YO THORNTON" causing jj to divert his attention away from a clingy kie "looks like mrs country clubs called it a night, pay up" you heard causing you to jolt your head up earning a groan from barry and a chuckle from jj and rafe. "Are you guys betting on me?" you asked putting two and two together. "Hey it's not just us, everyone is, even your boyfriend" jj pointed above you at rafe to get the blame off of himself.

This pulled whatever sleep you had in you away as you sat up and looked at rafe who had a sheepish smile on his face. "Explain" you said staring at rafe. "Well um-" he stuttered earning giggles from kelce and topper who rarely saw rafe at a loss for words "we all bet on who we think is gonna win the bet between you and jj" he explained. "Topper, kelce, john b, and cleo think you're gonna win and kie, barry, pope and sarah think jj's gonna win" he finished. "And you? who do you think is gonna win rafe?" you asked interested to hear his answer.

Some giggles from sarah and john b had you guessing you weren't going to like his answer. "well... baby you know i love you, but my money's on jj" he smiled down at you again with that sheepish smile. "really?" you laughed "you're betting against me?" you fake pouted, not really caring about something so silly. "Sorry baby" rafe laughed kissing your forehead. "Well imma stay up now just so i can see you lose" you smirked up at him "and so i don't have to clean jj's bike for the next month" you added on.

A while later you began to feel sleepy again as you drowned out the conversation between rafe and a few of the others. You looked up at rafe with sleepy eyes and he could swear that he'd never seen anything cuter. "Is it pass two?" you asked him in a pleading voice that had him send a quiet prayer to God that it had passed two so you could stop torturing yourself. He checked his watch, annoyed to see that it was 1:41 am meaning you couldnt sleep for another twenty minutes. Not having the heart to break it to you he just nodded causing you to bury your face into him as you layed against him, sleep immediately taking over you.

He bought his finger up to his lips and looked at everyone else with a death glare, a silent threat to everyone to not ruin it by telling you the actual time or else. He looked back at you sleeping then to jj who had a smirk on his face as he'd just won the bet. Little did jj know that there was no way on earth rafe was gonna let his girl wash jj's bike causing rafe to smirk to himself thinking of how he would deal with jj tomorrow, not caring how annoyed the blonde would get, you won't have to lift a finger. And that money he won from the other bet? He was already planning on how he was gonna take you out with that money and treat you the following day. "goodnight my pretty, sleepy girl" he whispered as he placed one final kiss into the top of your head before resuming his conversation with everyone else.

at midsummers

So far, midsummers had been everything you dreamt and more. You wore a stunning emerald green satin dress which complimented your skin tone and eye colour so beautifully. Your parents were so happy to see you with rafe enjoying midsummers remembering their own first midsummers together whilst the camerons wouldn't stop complimenting you. You had always been family to them being sarah's bestfriend since you both were three but they loved you even more after you started dating rafe.

The hours flew by as you danced with your parents, kie, sarah, wheezie, rafe and a few of your other friends. You even shared a dance with ward as he thanked you for bringing his son back to him. After a while you, kie and sarah went to grab a drink away from your parents hoping to get something alcoholic into your systems. After a while, not many people were left. Your parents had gone home without you once you told them you'd be staying at tannyhill with rafe and sarah tonight. You, kie and sarah were talking when you saw sarah roll her eyes at something behind you before feeling a pair of hands grab your waist. You turned you head to see rafe smiling at you pulling you away from sarah and kie leading you to the dance floor.

A slow song was playing as you both slowly danced to the music with your arms wrapped around his neck and your head was rested against his chest. Rafe's hands stayed at your waist and hips as he moved your body with his bringing his lips down to your ear "have i told you how beautiful you look tonight?" he whispered. This caused you to giggle "only about a milion times". He chuckled at that and you felt butterflies emerge in your stomach at the rumbles from his chest "well that's not enough, lets make it a million and one" he started before peppering some kisses into your hair "you look gorgeous princess" he finished with one final kiss. You smiled feeling nothing but comfort in that moment in that calm atmosphere "i love you" you whispered earning an "i love you more" from rafe. You continued to dance as you felt your eyes get heavier, sleep taking over you. Rafe also felt your body get heavier as you gave into the sleep leading him to gently carry you to his truck, "let's get you home my sleepy girl"

at a picnic date/mid convo

"oh my god rafe, this is so cute" you beamed at rafe as he took out a little picnic blanket and placed it over the grass "i know, you want some strawberries?" rafe smirked in a cocky tone, proud of himself for coming up with a successful date. "yes please" you said sitting down next to him. As soon as you sat down you felt rafe's arms pull you into his lap and before you could say anything to object, he stuffed a strawberry into your mouth.

You two proceeded to talk about many things going on in the obx particularly your night at midsummers just yesterday. With your head in rafes lap, you looked up at him whilst he sat upright against a tree peering down at you and mindlessly playing with your hair. When rafe started describing his favourite moments from midsummers, trying find a few pictures topper had managed to snap, he heard your hums get quieter and less frequent as the seconds passed. Shrugging his brows he moves his phone away so your face was no longer blocked, only to find you sleeping with a small smile on your face. He couldn't help chuckle, not only at the small bit of whipped cream on your nose, but also at how his sleepy girl had fallen asleep on yet another date. Slowy, he quietly snapped a picture of you before putting his phone to the side whilst dropping his head down to place a gentle kiss on your forehead, bringing it back up as he continued to admire you.

This was a picture rafe loved.

An image he wanted imprinted in his mind.

His favouite sight.

"sleep well my sleepy girl"

3K notes · View notes

netegf · 8 months

Text

So We Won't Forget

pairing: f!reader x rafe cameron

plot: you meet rafe cameron at a grief support group while he struggles with the loss of his father. he's trying to be a better man, and you can't help but love him for it.

warnings: 18+, sensitive topics such as death and mourning, use of Y/N, fluff and flirting, challenging sibling dynamics, smut (P in V, size kink, lots of praise, some teasing), mentions of past drug use, rafe is reforming (?) lol

word count: 7.7 k

Rafe didn’t know what he was thinking.

He knew Barry had given him the bright pink flier as a joke more than anything else. And he’d taken it as a joke, at least after the initial roll of his eyes, too. Ended up crumpling the sheet of paper and chucking it into the garbage can near his bedside, muttering some iteration of ‘yeah man, that’s real funny’.

His dad was dead. For real, this time. He didn’t need some corny grief support group where people sat in a circle and sang their sorrows.

He needed a fucking time machine.

Still, he had done it.

Sleep was getting harder and harder to find these nights. The temperature never felt right.

Too hot when he pulled white sheets up and over his bare hips and too cold when he let them slip down to his feet.

He rolled his body over to his side with the intention of scrolling through his phone which had become increasingly dry since his return from Guadeloupe.

But then his hand was reaching down into the garbage can and he was squinting in the dark to make out an address he’d never seen before.

It was no wonder why. The Church was so far in the outskirts of Figure 8, it might as well have been on the Cut. But it wasn't, and that was one of the only reasons why he'd reconciled with making the drive.

It was a shoddy building with peeling paint and a slanted roof, and it took him a whole twenty minutes to step outside of his truck and through the front doors.

The place gave him the chills. He felt better thinking it was because it was so run-down and he was a Kook through and through, but a part of him knew it was for a different reason entirely. He wasn’t completely sure he wouldn’t burst into flames upon entry. It wasn't long ago that he’d melted a fucking cross for Christ’s sake.

Like the man standing at the entry-way can read his mind, he claps a hand on Rafe’s shoulder and flashes him a reassuring smile. He must've been staring guardedly at the blocked off pew.

“We just use the space on this side of the building.” The man says, gesturing to the large room with groups of scattered chairs and a long table at the back with pastries and refreshments. “There’s no, uh,” he clears his throat, then continues with a knowing glance, “religious affiliation.”

Rafe manages a nod, his fingers feeling numb and jittery all at once. His eyes rake over the room once more. More specifically, the people in it.

Some of them look like they’re itching to talk, while others look so boxed up it makes the silence in the room more chilling. Rafe decides he connects more with the latter, but there’s a spot he can’t quite reach at the swell of his shoulder blade that suddenly feels like it could use a good scratch.

“I’m Leon, by the way. The program manager.” The man, Leon, introduces himself. “Help yourself to some snacks, then grab a seat. We’ll start shortly.”

Leon shoots Rafe another smile, then saunters over to the front of the room where he sits down by a dingy whiteboard.

Briefly, he wrestles the impulse to sprint out through the double-doors and scrub the very essence of the place off his body in a scalding shower. Sterile and dizzying, just how he likes them.

But then his feet are trudging clumsily toward the snack table, and he downs a hot cup of coffee that splashes uncomfortably against the acid in his stomach before filling an empty chair at the back.

"Let's see. As you take your seats and feel out the room, some of you might be asking yourselves why you even bothered to show up. Why don't we take a moment to remind ourselves why?"

To you, the introduction by the man you now know as Leon leaves something to be desired. A reminder wouldn't be necessary because forgetting wasn't the problem.

The problem was your best friend was gone, and nothing in the world could get your mind off it. It was a strange kind of irony, really, talking about her so you could end up talking about her less.

What better place and time was there to mourn than the beautiful Outer Banks in the summer?

At least, that's what your mother had said in a chipper tone as you rode the ferry off the mainland together.

Taking in the ambience of your surroundings, you seriously doubt she's right. The AC is blasting and you still feel sweat beading on your forehead. The place had the humidity of a greenhouse and none of the natural light.

"We'll start our conversation small. With a partner." Leon says, breaking you out of your trance. "I'll walk around the room and pair you up."

The friendly man that Leon is, it takes him a while to get to the back of the room where he pauses in front of you.

"Alright, so that leaves... you two!"

Leon points vaguely to a figure sitting at the far corner, who lifts his head for a second to meet your eyes. A flash of blue before he looks back down again. You notice that he's not moving a muscle and probably doesn't intend to.

"Guess I'll come to you." You mutter shortly under your breath, dragging your chair behind you as you move closer.

Taking a seat in front of the quiet stranger, the first thing you notice is that the top of his head is pretty. Then he lifts his chin and you come to realize that the rest of him is even prettier.

Dirty blonde hair that seems to be growing out after a cut sticks to his forehead, slightly damp with sweat. Angular jaw, beautiful blue eyes, soft pink lips pressed into a frown. He gazes at you suspiciously.

"Rafe."

Your eyebrows furrow, temporarily stalling your ogling. "What?"

"My name." He squints at you, pointing a slender finger to the whiteboard on which Leon has messily scrawled the words: 'introduce yourselves and explain why you're here'.

"Rafe." You repeat, trying the name out in your mouth. It feels harsh but satisfying. Like a swear word. "I'm Y/N."

He nods, but doesn't say anything else, his eyes flickering between the floor and a black truck you can make out through the window - like he's worried it might disappear.

You steal a glance at the pairs around you who seem to be getting far deeper into conversation than the two of you.

"I think we're supposed to talk." You mumble.

Rafe nods again, and his lips part for a moment, but then they close again. You fight the urge to glare at Leon for dooming your progress before it could even begin.

"I can go first." You offer with a shaky breath. "I'm here because my best friend, Stacy... died. It was, um, a car crash."

Hating the way the silence intensifies between you, you continue.

"I don't really know what to say. Just that she was kind of my favourite person. And she, uh... always made me feel like I was the only one in the room, you know? She just wanted to make you laugh and it was like nothing else mattered. Just us, living in our own little world."

Rafe feels a certain tightness in his chest, pressing down on his sternum.

"You're lucky." He scoffs.

It makes your face fall.

He'd tried to make it sound like a good thing, but it came out ugly, like it always seemed to.

"I'm... lucky that my friend died in a violent car crash? Gee, Rafe. Your empathy has no bounds.”

The turn of your voice makes Rafe's spine stiffen, his brows stiffly pinched together as he attempts to soothe over his words.

"No, I didn't mean it like that, okay?"

You narrow your eyes at him, crossing your arms over your chest.

Suddenly, the lips that you once thought were pretty look more like what they really are. Annoying, when they move. His crisp blue polo and stupidly expensive watch are starting to get on your nerves.

"I just meant that you - look, at least you had her. That's more than a lot of people can say."

That was rich coming from a guy that looked like he had everything in the world at his disposal.

"Who'd you lose? Your gardener?" You quip.

Rafe stares bitterly then looks down at his lap where his fingers are fidgeting.

"My dad."

You feel your stomach churn with guilt, face getting hot.

It's the way he says it that pains you. Like it hurts him physically to get the words out. You know that feeling like the back of your hand. You wish you didn't, but you do.

Suddenly, Rafe's rigidity feels less abrasive and more heartbreaking. You wonder how long it's been, hesitant to ask because it might make you feel worse. Maybe you deserved it for leading with pettiness instead of compassion. You remind yourself that you're grieving and messy, too.

"Oh." You choke out when an apology feels tight on your tongue.

He lifts his head up to meet your eyes, chewing on his bottom lip. "Yeah. Oh."

"I shouldn't have said that, Rafe. I'm sorry."

"No, I get it. I shouldn't have said that either. That way, at least. I'm trying to be better at... not saying the wrong thing." He breathes, shoulders falling. "I fuck it up constantly."

"You're not, you didn't." You shake your head. "I'm just on edge. Plus, I get really cranky when I'm hot, and it's boiling in here. Promise."

You feel a sense of relief when he cracks a smile at that, wanting to savour it.

"And...," you trail off, catching his attention.

"And?"

Your gaze runs over him, from the top of his handsome face, down to his shiny designer boots.

"You're textbook Kook. I guess my whole 'eat the rich' thing got the best of me."

Rafe laughs softly, feeling a rush in his chest. For a second, he's not thinking about a certain series of events that looms over him everywhere he goes like some sort of 'never off the clock' paralysis demon. Nor any of the bad decisions he made that led him up to that point and drove him deeper into the ground after the fact. He remembers back when he was just a regular asshole. An arrogant rich kid with poor impulse control and penchant for adrenaline.

He's debated if he would choose to go back thousands of times.

Part of him wants to.

He had a lot less to worry about. More parties to throw, more girls to take up to his bedroom after very little flirting on his part, more blow to keep him heady and distracted.

Help keep his mind off of the arguments with his dad.

His dad, who blew a hole in his life, and now, was gone... forever. It's something he'd imagined more times than he could count, but he would have never guessed this feeling.

Nothing felt good anymore. Like he didn't deserve any release because his dad wasn't here to give him shit, so he'd endured nothing to warrant it. He'd started feeling guilty, more than usual, and in a more physical sense. He could feel it when he woke up. Maybe it was the guilt that woke him up every day, gasping for air and clutching his chest. It was starting to sink in and sometimes he spent the whole of the night crying. It was like his soul was being reformed. He drove to a Church, instead of calling Barry, to feel something again.

He secretly hoped for a big, ambiguous power that would slap him awake and help him trek forward like a strong wind behind his back. But believing took a certain lack of resistance and if his father's eyes were anything to go by, Rafe was stubborn like a grease stain.

Then there was the risk of believing and still watching everything spin into chaos around you. Feeling stupid that you hoped for something different.

But things are different now.

He's still an asshole, sure. But he's trying to work on that.

"You're not wrong." He admits, grinning slightly. "You been to the island before?"

"Couple times. I know how you guys talk." You shrug, amused at how the jargon piqued his interest. "It's been a pretty long time, though. Don't think we've ever met."

He nods, like that makes sense to him. You shiver when his blue eyes run you up and down.

"I would've remembered you."

Before you can respond, Leon makes his way over to the two of you, smiling to himself, mostly, because the conversation he'd manufactured appeared to be a success.

"You two look chatty." He says brightly, eyes flickering over Rafe's posture, far more laid-back than when he first walked in.

"Just doing what you asked." Rafe replies shortly.

"Yeah, 'course. Just that you two seemed quiet, but turns out, you're chatty. It's nice, that's all. Keep up the good work, folks!" Leon says the last part loud enough for the room to hear, enthusiastically clapping his hands together while he does it.

"Dude's weird."

You chuckle at Rafe's comment, watching as Leon eagerly prods at another pair. You turn back to him and shrug.

"Definitely weird. Kinda sweet, though?"

The rest of the session continues with Leon speaking to the group, promising that next time, sharing would take place in a larger circle for deeper community. You don't miss the way Rafe's knee bounces up and down next to you. At one point, you gently put one of your palms on his knee to keep it still. You feel his stare burning a hole in the side of your face, but you don't look at him. Just a hint of a smile on your lips.

It makes Rafe nervous. He feels something different, and he likes it, but it makes him nervous.

"Hey... you gonna come next week?" You ask him as you sling your bag over your shoulder, trying to make sure your voice doesn't sound so hopeful.

He pauses for a second.

"Uh, maybe. Maybe, I'm going to have to check on a few things first." By a few things, he meant Barry. Though they'd unloaded most of the cross gold, they still worked together sometimes. Mostly because they wanted to.

He was an unlikely friend. Gruff and hard to control, but in his corner.

If Rafe was going to show up again, he didn't want Barry finding out. He'd never hear the end of it - 'you're getting soft on me, Country Club!'.

"Okay." You chirp, turning to leave and taking all of three steps before stopping again with your bottom lip wedged under your teeth.

Fuck it.

"Hey Rafe?" You spin back, sounding hopeful and a little desperate, but honest, at least, because you are those things.

"Yeah?" He breathes, eyes falling all around you.

"I really hope you come."

Quickly, you turn back around and make your way to the door, hand barely gripping the knob when you finally hear his voice.

"Y/N."

You look over your shoulder to meet tender blue eyes.

"I'll be there."

Turns out, sharing circles are harder than they look. For Rafe, at least.

You spoke about Stacy so easily. You spoke well of her so easily.

When Rafe heard your shaky exhales next to him, he clamped his warm, calloused hand over yours on instinct, listening thoughtfully to the way you described her favourite hobbies. The ones you loved along with her, and the ones you loved to make fun of her for. It was a good reminder for him, that the fruits of his instincts could be tender. An animal with at least some softness. He wasn't always so sure.

He spent a fair amount of time comforting Sarah and Wheezie when they cried as kids, but he was also usually the reason they started crying in the first place.

After that first meeting, you awkwardly made your way out of the Church and Rafe followed behind you shortly after. When he watched you undo your bike lock, he puffed his red cheeks out and approached you with a slight shake in his knees. He wasn't nervous, it was just hot out - is what he tried to convince himself.

He offered you a ride back to the house you were staying at with your mom in exchange for your number. You strapped yourself in his passenger seat with a smile on your lips and a special kind of spark flared up in your chest, the kind that makes you acutely aware of the sweat coating the back of your neck, sticking the hair to the skin, when your eyes met his in the rearview mirror.

Rafe didn't look like the kind of guy that seemed well-intentioned when he asked for a girl's number. But he surprised you when he texted you once he got home. Then again all through the evening. And, in the days that followed.

Between the texts and the phone calls, you covered a lot of ground. Now, Rafe knew about the time you peed yourself at an elementary school book fair, and you knew that he slept with his first dog's collar months after she died. You gushed about your favourite kinds of junk food while he raved about the hand-spun milkshakes at the club.

Rafe's turn to speak in the circle was a mess, to say the least. He could hardly spit a few words about Ward, too busy navigating pregnant pauses and his newfound habit of stuttering. He thinks he might've called Ward 'nice', then very quickly grimaced after. When he heard his own voice through the rush in his ears, he thought it sounded nothing like him. He could barely even feel your gentle hand rubbing at his back when his words broke and cracked, leaving his throat with a nasty burn.

Though Rafe knew his relationship with his dad was strained, he loved him.

It wasn't a comforting feeling, but it was the truth, and all he had. They both could have done better, he reminds himself. God knew that was true.

But at one point, he'd just been a kid. He needed help. He needed his father who always seemed to find business elsewhere. It made sense that talking about Ward was hard.

It made mourning him harder.

A perpetual flurry of emotions that kept his mind up at night and his hands restless. Anger and sadness always dominating the rest, but fighting their own fight with each other.

Anger when he thought about the ways his dad favoured Sarah.

Sadness when he remembered those rare early mornings Ward woke Rafe up for a surprise boat trip, just the two of them.

Back then, Rafe used to stay up entire nights in excitement at the prospect of spending some time alone with his father. Eventually, he had to force himself to accept that their last trip together had long passed, and right under his nose.

"Was it bad?" He groans, eyes screwed shut as he rubs a hand over his taut jaw, working lazily on a piece of gum.

He's still sitting when the room clears out. You stand to haul your bag over your shoulder, giving him a reassuring smile that he absorbs fully. Bright blue eyes drinking you in.

"No, Rafe. It was fine. Everyone's too busy focusing on their own shit. You got through it just fine."

He gives you an unconvinced look, quirking a brow. Then he tugs at your bag, holding it instead.

"You're lying." He frowns. With a hint of amusement in his voice, "God, and you're a bad liar, too."

Biting your lip, you take Rafe's hand in yours and drag him towards the exit, giggling quietly to yourself. He trails behind you, slowly shaking his head. He grins when you skip past the metal rack at the front of the building and pull him into the parking lot. You didn't bring your bike today.

"C'mon, big guy. Let's get you a milkshake." You tease. "I know a place."

He rolls his eyes and laughs, letting you lead him in the opposite direction of his truck.

"You're going the wrong way, dumbass."

"I don't know, Rafe. It tastes kinda funny."

"That's because you mixed chocolate, vanilla, and peach. Who the fuck does that?"

Rafe sips on his chocolate milkshake as he sits across from you in the booth, an amused smirk tugging at his pink lips. The Island Club is somehow nicer inside than it is outside. The cherry-wood of the tables shines under the mood lighting and even near capacity, there's enough room for decent conversation.

You pout, stirring your paper straw around in the metal cup. You perk up with an idea.

"Let me try yours."

Rafe starts to laugh, eyes widening in protest. You're sweet, he thinks. He'd probably give you anything if you asked.

But that didn't mean he'd do it. He liked to think he was a little more challenging than that.

"No, you made your bed." He shakes his head, gulping down another sip. It makes his Adam's apple bob. You stare mostly unashamed and lick your lips without thinking. "Now lie in it."

He watches your eyes get big for all of three seconds before realizing he'd lie right beside you.

"Fuck, fine." He relents, taking his lip under his teeth, pang in his chest. "Don't look at me like that."

With two fingers, he pushes his cup in your direction and you hum happily as you sip from it. A sort of warm feeling in your stomach as you realize Rafe's mouth was on the same straw you're sucking on just moments before.

"Do you know that guy? He's staring at you really hard." You mumble through the milkshake, but Rafe's eyes are fixated on your saliva-coated lips.

"Huh?"

You turn your gaze to a guy at the bar. He's been staring at the back of Rafe's head for the better part of five minutes, squinting his eyes every so often as if to confirm it's really Rafe he's looking at. As he starts to come closer, you begin to understand why - his button-up shirt is half undone, his tawny brown hair disheveled, a far-away look in his blue eyes - he's drunk off his ass.

Rafe turns to look.

"Shit. Yeah, he's my sister's... long story." He sighs, forcing a smile as the guy approaches your table. "Hey, Top. What's going on, man?"

"Rafe!" The guy, Top, slurs excitedly. "I never see you around anymore, man. Where you been?"

Then his eyes run over you and he chuckles. "Maybe I should be asking who you been with."

It was true, Rafe had been sort of MIA since Sarah had returned with the news about his dad.

Well, except for that one incident. He hoped Topper was too drunk to remember that. In any case, he hadn't felt that guilty about their fading friendship - Topper had been MIA, too, ever since he went 'Rafe-crazy' and lit up the Chateau. He supposes that was his fault, too.

Maybe he was avoiding him on purpose.

Topper reminded him of all the skeletons in his closet. It was hard enough living with the shame without a walking, talking reminder of his past. A lot of bravado and hair gel, is what it was. He regretted nearly everything now but sometimes he worried that if he spent enough time in the same places he used to, with the same people he used to, he'd somehow switch back.

Rafe stiffens a little, but he gazes at you warmly. "This is Y/N. We met at, uh... she's..."

"New." You finish for him. "Rafe's been showing me around."

At that, Rafe gives you a look. It made it sound like...

"Ah, that famous Cameron hospitality." The guy snorts. "I'm Topper."

The words 'Nice to meet you, Topper' die on your lips when he rams a hand aggressively on Rafe's shoulder and starts to laugh to himself, as if recalling memories. "Me and this guy? We go way back, Y/N. Best of friends, really."

You nod half-heartedly, shifting awkwardly in your seat. The leather of the chair underneath your bare thighs is starting to stick to the skin uncomfortably.

"Alright, man, well it was good seeing you-," Rafe attempts to wave him off, but Topper doesn't let up.

"Look, dude." He whispers, lowering his head to Rafe's ear. He's not being as quiet as he thinks he is, and the next part of what he says makes you shudder. "I heard about your dad."

Rafe feels a wave of defeat wash over him. So, Topper wasn't too drunk to remember.

It was one of the first nights after he'd heard about his dad. He'd spent as long as he could in the Island Club, ordering drink after drink, until he stumbled outside and spent a good chunk of the night puking his guts out. Unfortunately, that wasn't before letting his tongue fall a little too loose, and explaining to Topper how his dad hadn't really died on My Druthers because he was in Guadeloupe swimming in gold. But now, now he was really dead. And he wasn't coming back. And he'd barely said goodbye.

"I'm really sorry, man. I know things have been really fucking weird, to say the least. But I'm sorry you're going through that. Again." Topper spills, feeling completely uninhibited. "Well, I guess it's only real this time around. But... you wouldn't have known that at the time."

Topper winces at himself. He rubs a hand down his red face and stumbles away from the table. "Shit. Sorry. I'm just gonna-,"

"See ya, Top." Rafe cuts him off dryly.

You look at Rafe cautiously as Topper makes his way, albeit clumsily, back to the bar. He lets out a deep breath and then slowly starts to shake his head, lifting his chin to meet your eyes with a look that seems to say - 'are you seeing this shit?'.

"That guy used to be your best friend?" You ask with a hint of a smile, trying to diffuse the tension. You spare a glance at Topper who's slurring through his order of another drink.

Rafe shrugs, letting out a wispy laugh. "We had our moments."

Moments he wasn't particularly eager to tell you about, but moments, nonetheless.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

"What, Topper? Fuck no." He laughs harder.

"No, not Topper. The meeting." You say sincerely. "Why you feel like you can't talk about your dad."

You feel your heart race a little at the question, wondering if Rafe is going to use it to be vulnerable. His face falls for a moment, but then it recovers. For a second, he considered it. But there's something bigger that's been weighing on his mind.

"I was kinda hoping we could do something else." He says softly and moves in closer, cupping your cheek.

"Yeah?" You whisper, meeting his intense gaze. Hot breath fanning over his face. "And what's that?"

He tenderly moves a strand of hair out of your eyes, trying so hard to be soft that his hand is shaking. His blue eyes have specks of something else at this distance. It's the best colour you've ever seen.

"I really need to kiss you."

He nods while he says it, like he's giving himself an affirmation. Then he's closing the space between you and pressing his lips over yours with a controlled kind of pressure you're really tempted to see snap one day. The way your mouth opens for his tongue nearly immediately almost makes it happen right now. And that'd really be a shame, he thinks, because he wants to ruin you when he has time and space to play with.

"Stay with me tonight?" He mumbles breathily as you pull apart, and you nod as his thumb cradles your cheek.

You think you can maybe make out Topper whistling, but it's hard with all the blood rushing to your ears.

Rafe kisses like affection has been missing from his life for a long time.

His hands are almost frustratingly gentle as they caress your jaw, but his lips, which haven't detached from yours since you entered his bedroom, more than make up for it.

They're hungry and wet with spit, entirely unsatisfied until your panting underneath him and have to bury your face in his neck to take deep, deep breaths of oxygen and his fading cologne.

He bites at your mouth and neck in the meantime, then soothes over the tender spots with his tongue while you whine and claw at the silky material on his still-clothed back.

"This. Off." You murmur throatily, parting from his lips to tug up on the hem of his shirt. You stare unabashedly at the defined v-line that peaks out from underneath, tongue darting out to wet your lips in anticipation.

Rafe laughs, but humours you, throwing the garment off over the side of the bed so that it hits the floor somewhere.

Still hovering over you, he leans down to press several kisses to your lips, and you take the opportunity to run the flat of your hand down his warm and muscular chest, the other hand curling around the sweaty strands of his dirty blonde hair.

Rafe actually moans out when you tug on his hair, and the pretty sound brings a rush of heat to your core.

You squeeze your thighs together and plant open-mouthed kisses along Rafe's jaw, when his phone starts to vibrate on his bedside table.

You turn your head to glance at the bright screen and Rafe scrunches his eyebrows together, fingers pinching at your chin to turn your focus back on him.

"I don't give a fuck who it is." He laughs breathily. "I'm not picking up. I'll break the stupid thing if I have to."

You playfully roll your eyes before Rafe's lips attach to yours again, and you hum happily against his lips as he works them raw. Then his phone starts buzzing again.

"You wanna reconsider?" You giggle. Rafe slumps his face into your chest and groans loudly, arm extending to the table to pick up the device. He lifts his head up and glances at the notification, face twisting in what looks like shock.

"It's my sister." He says, confusion evident in his tone. "My sister never calls me."

He moves to stand up and passes you an apologetic glance.

"Sorry, I gotta take this." He mumbles in a stray kiss to the crown of your head. "Gimme a sec."

A few seconds turns into something much longer.

It turned out that Rafe's sister, Sarah, was calling him because of some kind of commotion that was happening at a bonfire she and her friends were at.

Apparently, the person causing the commotion was someone Rafe knew.

Based on Rafe's initial surprise and the way he's been chewing through his bottom lip the whole way to the beach, you assumed Sarah calling was a last resort for her. You got the sense she and her brother didn't talk often.

"I'm gonna handle this, alright? I need you to stay right here." Rafe says sternly, nervously running a hand through his hair.

You sit in the passenger seat of his truck, which has quickly become one of your new favourite spots, with a frown on your pretty lips that makes Rafe's chest hurt. He reaches up to cup your cheek.

He'd tried to convince you to stay in his room while he dealt with the situation, but you were adamant about coming with. You needed to make sure he was safe. It didn't feel like there were many people that had his best interests at heart.

"If you think I'm going to let you go out there by yourself, you really don't know me, Rafe."

His lips twitch at that, his thumb caressing the skin under your eye.

"You're infuriating, you know that?" He murmurs softly. "Fine. C'mon."

The beach is pretty at this hour, too. The sky is dark, but not completely so - an expansive dark blue that blankets the moon. In the distance, you can see the reddish-golden flames of a bonfire that illuminate a group of people.

"You had the cross!" An exasperated voice yells. "How was that not enough for you?!"

"Yeah, I'm afraid that's old news." Another man with long dark hair retorts humourlessly. "I'mma need my fucking money. The money your punk asses stole from me, or did you forget that shit?!"

Getting closer, you can see that this group is separated from the much larger crowd behind them. Four guys, and two girls. One of the girls has shiny blond hair that glows under the light of the bonfire flames. Sarah, you guess.

Three of the guys stand beside the girls. The other one stands opposite the rest of them, hands smoothing over something his pocket.

A soft gasp leaves your lips when you realize it's a gun.

Rafe stops suddenly. He turns to gaze at you with an intense look in his eyes, pupils hard as one of his hands grips your shoulder. The other reaches for your face, thumb brushing over your lip tenderly.

"Don't move." He whispers. "Promise me."

You feel your stomach churn at the request, wanting nothing more than to tug him by the hand all the way back to his truck. But you nod, hoping it helps alleviate the tension in his forehead.

"Barry!" Rafe calls out as he turns around and approaches them.

The man with the gun tucked in his jeans, Barry, looks over his shoulder and huffs. Rafe roughly pushes him away from the rest of the group and they divulge into a heated conversation. Rafe's jaw ticks as he listens to Barry and receives a firm shove to the chest. But he manages to placate the other man by whispering something into his ear. Barry ends up nodding, and he casts one more angry glance at the rest of the group then begins to retreat.

"Y'all have a good night, now." He chuckles grudgingly before leaving.

Rafe makes his way back to the rest of them, nodding at his sister. You slowly come up behind him.

"Thanks." Sarah seems to hesitate to say. Her arms are crossed over her chest, and there are frustrated tears in her eyes.

The relationship between Rafe and Sarah has been strained for a long time. They seemed to fundamentally disagree with each other.

It wasn't always that way. Or at least, Rafe thinks, it wasn't always that way. One day, his sister upped and left it all - the big house, the fancy clothes, the nice cars - for 'Pogue life'. It still made his nose crinkle in disgust when he thought about it. But the truth was, he hadn't thought about it in a while... their dad dying worked to break them out of that feud. There were bigger things to worry about, and despite everything that went down in the last few years, they'd lived a whole life together before that.

That still meant something to Rafe.

It meant something to Sarah, too, he thinks, because she'd been less appalled by him lately. She checked in every once in a while. A few months back, he'd formally apologized to her, and of course, it would never be enough, but he felt a weight off his shoulder when she accepted it. When he realized she wasn't scared of him anymore.

Maybe they could move passed everything. It would take a long time, sure. But he could wait for family. The only family he has.

One of the guys next to Sarah, wearing a backwards baseball cap, stiffens.

"Don't thank him. He's Barry's bitch." He bites like Sarah's words are absurd, then stares hard at Rafe. "In fact, he's probably just here to score some more coke."

Rafe's grits his teeth, eyes fluttering shut for a second. He opens them and shakily exhales.

"I'm clean, now."

Your heart clenches at how raw his voice sounds. You watch with wide eyes as the same guy scoffs at him.

"Yeah, like anybody believes that." He mumbles under his breath. Before you can try and defend him, Sarah steps in.

"Guys, I called him." She admits, fatigue evident in her voice. It makes you wonder how long the confrontation between them had gone on before you and Rafe showed up. Another guy, one wearing a bandana across his forehead, casts Sarah a sour glance and she sighs. "You know I had to, John B. Did you want Barry to leave, or not?"

He didn't have anything to say to that.

Sarah steps away from her friends in an attempt at some privacy. She approaches Rafe, and by extension, you, while the rest of the gang diffuses around the bonfire. Whatever had gone down in the past between these people, it was clear they wanted nothing to do with Rafe moving forward, and it was perhaps only because Sarah was family that she even entertained speaking to him. You appreciated her for that.

"It's been a while." Sarah comments. "You've been... doing okay?"

Rafe shuffles nervously in front of her, nodding without meeting her eyes.

"Yeah, I've been good. You?"

Sarah nods and a silence falls between them.

"You're still hanging around Barry?" She asks, raising an eyebrow in disapproval.

"He's not that bad."

"Yeah, I'll try to remember that when he's not threatening me and my friends for 25 thousand dollars."

Rafe shakes his head with a new-found confidence, raising his chin to meet her stormy and inquisitive eyes. "Nah, I talked to him. He won't bother you guys anymore."

Sarah nods again, and another silence falls between them.

"You're really doing good?" She asks again, bottom lip wedged beneath her teeth.

"Yeah, I am. I'm, uh, getting help. Got this... group thing."

At the mention of a 'group', Sarah's eyes sweep over to you, drinking in your slightly turned face and averted gaze as you try to give the siblings some space for their conversation. She feels her lips twitch a little. So much had happened. A lot she didn't think she would ever forgive, maybe should never forgive. But she couldn't deny that it was more complex than that, nor could she deny that she missed her older brother. The one from before. Who she'd make eye contact across the dinner table with when Rose waxed poetic about their new marble counters. If they could find their way back there, she'd be lying if she said the idea didn't make her happy.

"I'm really happy to hear that, Rafe. Honestly."

Rafe smiles weakly. They say their goodbyes and manage an awkward side-hug with each other. When he turns around, you silently take his hand in yours, and you walk along the roaring beach back to his truck.

Back at the truck, you lay your head on Rafe's shoulder as he sits in the driver's seat, still parked at the side of the road. Rafe keeps his eyes closed, taking a deep breath before he starts to speak.

"My dad scared me."

Instinctively, you reach your hand over the console and tangle your fingers together. You give his hand a gentle squeeze.

"I fucked up a lot, embarrassed him. And I, uh, I don't blame him for that. I was high all the time. Angry. Violent." He continues, sniffling slightly. "He wasn't scared of me, though. Never was."

"I guess I just wanted him to look at me and not be ashamed, you know?"

Rafe gulps, trying to let the sound of your soft hums and the warmth of your body keep him steady.

"I did some really bad things to people. Things I'm not proud of." He whispers with his head hanging. "They didn't deserve it... and now, I have to live with that."

He shuts his eyes and exhales.

"It's, uh... it's really hard living with that."

Lifting your head from his shoulder, you bite your lip as you take in Rafe's words, fingers reaching forward to brush away the spare tears that collect on his cheeks. He leans into your touch, finding comfort in it.

"Hey." You say softly. "Look at you, talking about your dad. You're doing a really good job, Rafe."

He smiles weakly, his eyes trained on his lap. "Sorry tonight was a bust."

"It wasn't." You protest. "Plus, it's not over yet."

Rafe lifts his chin to look at you, his curiosity piqued.

You lick your lips and trace your fingers along his jaw, maneuvering yourself over the console to firmly grip the sides of his face and pull his lips to yours in a long and messy kiss. It's clumsy, with your noses bumping, and teeth scraping - but it's hot and it makes you feel tingly.

Rafe nips at your bottom lip shamelessly, kisses trailing down the column of your throat. "In the truck?" He asks, and you can practically hear the grin in his voice.

"In the truck." You breathe, holding back a moan when Rafe sucks on your skin.

One way or another, the two of you find your way into Rafe's backseat. He's sitting with his legs wedged apart while you grind on top of him, muttering obscenities under your breath and weaving your fingers through his hair.

The sounds of your pleasure do more for him than he'd care to admit. When you unzip his slacks and stick your hand into his briefs to pull out his leaky cock, he throws his head back against the headrest and hisses at the contact. He is so fucking sensitive already.

"No, don't." Rafe protests breathlessly when you stroke his hard cock a few times, his hand slipping from your hip to wrap around your wrist and pull it away. Your eyes widen and you unfurl your hand immediately, only to smile when you realize why he wants you to stop. He tries to calm himself down, but can feel it building.

"It's been a while." Rafe defends, and you giggle on top of him, pressing a sloppy kiss to the underside of his jaw.

"Honestly, Rafe. That's really fucking hot."

You pull your top over your head and toss it to the floor, then quickly unclasp your bra. Rafe groans immediately, half-lidded eyes so pretty and pitiful as one of his hands reaches up to grope you, while his mouth latches on to one of the hardening buds. You raise your hips to pull down your shorts, but it's not quick enough for Rafe. He tugs impatiently at the lace of your panties.

Rafe sits you down on him, letting you control the speed as he enters you. Your mouth falls open as you attempt to take him fully, eyes screwed shut, gasp after gasp leaving your lips.

"Fuck." You pant as he bottoms out, unable to move for a second as your head slumps in his chest. Rafe chuckles underneath you, large hands squeezing your hips.

"You okay, baby?"

"It's just big." You murmur, taking your bottom lip under your teeth. "It's really big, Rafe."

"I know," he coos softly as you begin to rock your hips on top of him, his own face twisting in pleasure as your pelvises kiss. "But you're doing so good, huh?"

You can barely respond, too taken by the feeling of your tight walls squeezing around him. By the sound of Rafe's deep thrusts, pistoling up into you as your hips knock into each other sloppily. Your slick dripping from where you're connected down to your thighs, squelching obscenely inside Rafe's truck, definitely staining the seats.

"Taking my cock so well." He praises. "Splitting you in half, and you're taking it like a champ."

You moan brokenly as Rafe hits your spot, his hand trailing down at the same time to rub circles on your aching clit with his thumb.

"My good girl, huh? Always will be?"

You reach your climax as he presses searing kisses on your shoulder, shuddering with the kind of white hot pleasure that has your toes curling and a high-pitched whine vibrating from your throat that Rafe is sure he'll never forget.

He comes shortly after, the way you clench around him through your orgasm enough to send him reeling. He groans, pumping his hips a few more times before he stills completely and fills the condom with his spend. He holds you tightly as you both come down, the sounds of your heavy breathing overlapping with each other.

Before his cock softens, he pulls out slowly and disposes of the latex. He presses a soft kiss to your cheekbone when you frown at the loss of contact, whimpering sweetly.

"Don't pout, princess. You need to get filled up? Right here?" A slender finger trails down to your slit, bumping your sensitive clit in the process, and it prods at your wet hole.

He chuckles, brushing the sweaty hair from your face with his other hand. "I got that. Just gotta be patient and wait 'til I get you home. You can do that for me, right, pretty girl?"

The next morning, you strap yourself into the passenger seat of Rafe's truck as he drives to a busted Church at the outer edge of Figure 8. He takes his seat amongst a circle of foldable chairs and you take your seat next to him. His hand reaches out to grip yours not different from how it did last night, through fucking and sleeping alike.

When it's his turn to speak, you squeeze his hand encouragingly and he takes a deep breath.

"My dad, Ward Cameron, passed away about a year ago. He was a lot of things..."

a/n: thank you for reading! comments/reblogs appreciated!!

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks x reader #rafe x reader #remember when i said i wasn't sure if i'd write rafe again

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ivymarquis · 4 months

Text

I saw that post that @ceilidho shared of Barry looking all “tf are you doing out of bed” and then I had to write this down for John. Sidebar the title of this in my google docs is “John decides he’s keeping his ONS”

Get Back Here

Pairing| John Price x Reader Rating| T Word Count| 863 Content/Warnings| This is post coital with them having fucked like rabbits but everything is above board. This theoretically would be such a nice jump off spot for a darker twist BUT my heart is still mostly fluffy for the cod boys. I am working on something a lil unhinged with Price tho.

While this piece is rated T, I am an MDNI blog. Minors + ageless blogs will be blocked.

If she has any sense in her head, she’ll slip out from the sheets while he’s snoring beside her, get dressed and fuck off back home.

Of course, how much sense she has at the moment is debatable at best because he went and fucked her brains right out of her skull.

Forget pipe- The man laid infrastructure earlier and it’s already screwing with her head. Making her really have to try and talk herself out of the urge to see where things go. The only thing she needs to see is where the fuck her drawers went. Getting dickmatized is a real struggle and while she doesn’t often go out, she lets the soldier sweet talk her on the expectation that there would be a fair degree of “get in, get done, get out”.

Post nut clarity is nowhere to be seen on his end, as he’d tucked her into the spot next to him with the promise of breakfast in the morning. A well deserved reward on her end for all her hard work.

Maybe her brain just likes to torture her but she starts to think that she’s just not meant for casual hook ups like this. He is kind and respectful and a phenomenal lay and her brain is already trying to twist this to justify finding a way to wrangle down another night with him. She just needs to rip this bandaid off and go.

Chalk this up as go-to spank bank fodder the next time she’s lonely.

It’s easier this way, she tells herself as she peels back the bedding he’d cocooned her in.

Less humiliating this way, to sneak away in the night as the cold bites at her as she gathers her clothes. All the while he’s snoring up a storm, assuring her that he’s still out of it and unaware of her escape attempt that is delayed by not being able to find her damn bra.

There’s a small part of her that somewhat feels bad for planning to sneak out in the middle of the night, but there’s a larger part of her that doesn’t want to hear whatever is his go to prompt when it’s time to kick his partner out of bed and back to the rest of the world.

She fixates on locating her wayward bra to the point she doesn’t notice the lack of white noise as he -John- stirs at the loss of her. She doesn’t see the way he gropes blindly at the space she was occupying not five minutes ago, nor the way his expression screws down into a scowl as realization sinks in when he fully awakens.

She does hear his huffed “The fuck are you doing?”, lacking any bite to it despite the phrasing. What she’s doing is fairly obvious given how her clothes are gathered in her arms as opposed to rifling through something she shouldn’t.

“I, um,” she blinks stupidly. He’s a gorgeous man, just enough moonlight filtering through the window so she can see him even in the dark. “I’m getting dressed,” finally her brain clicks into place.

His eyes are squinting at her as he blinks back sleep, shuffling partly up to get a better look at her, the blanket pooling at his waist. Christ her knees are already weak just looking at him again. “None of that,” he dismisses firmly, “it’s too cold, love. Come back to bed. Promised you breakfast in the morning anyway.”

She has a decision to make, she realizes- if she’s adamant about leaving it’s not like he’s going to keep her hostage. He has to let her leave.

But, her thoughts trail off, it is fucking cold. And that bed is incredibly warm. And she still doesn’t know where the fuck her bra is.

“Come on then, back you get.” He prompts with a pat to the spot she’d previously occupied, and that’s enough to make her fold (she can’t deny that she’s been lookin for a reason to fold all night, even if a part of her knows this is a bad, bad, bad idea). Setting her clothes back in a neat pile rather than them being strung all over the floor-still sans bra-, she returns to the bed and slides back under the covers he’s lifted for her.

Immediately his arm bands across her torso, pulling her in snug against him. Well, there’s certainly no sneaking away now. After a bit of shuffling as they settle in against each other, John ensuring there will be no more half hearted attempts to flee.

He doesn’t snore-likely keeping an eye on her to ensure she’s not going to run again- until she’s securely in that half-awake-half-asleep limbo. It’s incredibly easy to slip into. The room is cold, he is warm and the bed is so incredibly cozy. The math is very simple and the end result is her dozing in the arms of a man she can very stupidly see herself getting attached to- even if he snores like a bear.

Come morning, John makes good on his promise for breakfast.

She doesn’t end up needing to find her bra until two days later.

#my writing #john price x reader #john price x you #john price x y/n #cod mwii #john price

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lemonmelonboy · 6 months

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Lonely for the First Time Ever

Jack x Reader

TW: Ian /j, Cheating, Loneliness

Content: GN!Reader

Word Count: 3317

Summary: My own fun take on Day 1 (?) of Somethings Wrong with Sunny Day Jack.

18+ Readers ONLY - Minors Do NOT Interact! Minors/Ageless Blogs will be Blocked!!!

I Do NOT give any permission for my work to be Reposted, Translated, or used with AI in ANY Capacity!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You had just dragged yourself out of your apartment after being called in to cover your flakey co-worker for possibly the millionth time that year. You surely missed your days off at this point, wishing to have just one every week rather than every other week. You sighed heavily walking down the sidewalk, as Jack trailed alongside you. It was cold and stormy, the rain was pelting the sidewalk and cars were passing by in a slum. It was such a peaceful walk.

You walked silently with Jack politely carrying your umbrella; you had protested but he very much insisted he take it for you. The rain soothed your racing mind, but that only made it so you thought slower about the things on your mind. You ran over what had just happened before you were rudely interrupted by your boss’s phone call. How Jack had held you so close, how you imagined kissing him for a brief moment, and how you wish you had. You mulled it over and over, unable to shake the image of the cuddly Jack. How Jack had looked at you with those love sick eyes. How bad you wanted to stay. Thoughts raced about why, which brought up feelings from the past few months. But as you slipped into your thoughts Jack gently bumped your arm, a playful event that he’d tend to do on your walks. It made you smile, he always knew how to make you smile, especially with little things like that. You look around trying to keep yourself in the present, but the pittering of the rain on the umbrella and sidewalk luls you back into thoughts of Jack and your loneliness.

“Sunshine?” Jack's voice cooed kindly. You looked up to him, suddenly pulled back.

“Hm?” you looked around as you realized you almost walked straight by your work. A soft embarrassed blush works its way across your cheeks.

You slip into the door, walking to the back to set your things down, ignoring Barry’s comments on how thankful he is you could come in and how absolutely sorry he is for having to do it. When you come back from the back of the store you find he had already left. You sigh as you find yourself alone in the shop, going through your list of menial tasks for the day. You work quietly as Jack hangs around, quietly helping when he can. It's weird to have him be so comfortable with how quiet you’re being. Usually he does anything to try to fill the silence, like whistling a small tune. However the man who stood before you now would only give you an encouraging smile whenever you looked at him and never said a word, not until you spoke up.

“Jack..” You sighed his name as you relaxed against the counter having finished all the tasks you needed to. You didn’t even have anything to tell, least not in a way you knew how. He perked up like a puppy being offered a treat.

“Yes, sunshine?” he asks sweetly. You looked at him and could feel your body warm as you saw his happy face and his kind eyes looking at you almost needingly. You mull over a single thought in your head and he can see you are resisting saying what you were thinking. “Is everything alright?” his happy look slowly fades to concern. Then he looks away with a soft blush on his cheeks. “It's okay to want that.. to want to be wanted..” he said breathily and quietly, almost like he was embarrassed by his own words.

“Wh-what are you saying?'' How did he know? You were sure you were only thinking to yourself, and you weren’t a vocal thinker.

“I just… sometimes people are like that for you, and it's okay to have a person you want to be with all the time… to want them to want you… and wanting them..?” He ended it like a question, almost like he wanted you to just admit it all to him right then and there.

“Wha- I- '' You didn’t know what you should say to him. You were so embarrassed at the implication that he was who you wanted- or the implication you wanted someone else.

“Do you… want me?” he asked, quieter than ever. He was still pretty blunt with it- looking at you with a pair of hopeful puppy eyes that made your body scream for you to just say “yes” and let him hold you. “I know it's hard to say- but I can help you learn what words to use to express these feelings.” He gently urges, moving closer to you reaching out almost as if he was ready to hug you, and hold you and possibly never let go.

“But- I- it's just that’s- you can’t just ask something like that- I-“ He moves closer, his hands resting on the counter behind you, he makes a point of not touching you yet, but wanting to get closer to you. A warmth spreads over your face into a sweet blush as you figure out how to answer. You felt in that moment that you wanted him to hold you, to grab you the best he could.

“I want to be there for you- whether you want me like that or not.. I’ll be there for you however you need me- I just want what’s best for you- What will make you happy-'' suddenly your phone starts ringing, interrupting Jack and causing him to step away. A soft frustrated look comes over his face as he looks away. You take up the cell phone, glad to have been interrupted right then, afraid if he continued your heart would have given out.

“Oh- Uh- I'll be- back!”

Jack nods slightly, “It might be important- so- don’t worry alright? I’ll still be here when you get back!” He said encouragingly as he let you walk past him.

You really shouldn’t be taking calls at work, but you didn’t care. You also didn't care if the call was spam and you picked it up without checking the name plastered on the screen. You quickly ducked to the kitchen camera blind spot.

“Hello?” You spoke with that pitch in your voice encouraging the person calling to speak. You were hopeful it was something that would take your mind off everything.

“You picked up-“ an all too familiar voice came through, in awe, and dripping with desperation. You froze, the last person you ever wanted to hear, especially with how your day was going. Ian. “Hey..” He spoke again, trying to fill in your quiet response. You hadn’t forgotten about him, but you hadn’t expected he’d call you while you were at work. “Are you alright?” he asked with concern in his voice.

“Ye-yeah, I’m fine..” You could hear him sigh softly in relief as you responded.

“I-I’ve missed you… and your voice..” he almost whimpered into the phone.

“What- what do you need Ian. I’m- at work, you can’t be calling me like this” You asked quietly, surprise still filling your tone more than any anger or demandingness.

“I-I know,, I didn't expect you to pick up! I-I’m sorry…” Ian said, he sounded so sad, and you do feel a little bad. He was your life long friend, and what felt like even longer lover. But he hurt you, and objectively you know you shouldn’t feel sorry for him, or how you treat him.

“You’ve said.. And I don’t forgive you Ian.. You know I am still mad at you.” There’s silence from him. You bite your quivering lip, pushing back a sob, thinking he must be feeling the same. “I-” You huff out, collecting yourself before you continue. “I’m trying to move on.” You say, a little sad hearing yourself say it.

“You’re- You’re what...” you can hear his heart break more in his voice, and you might’ve felt it just a bit yourself. “You’re not,, with someone right? Because… I am trying. I am going to fix this… And-” You cut him off

“Ian... Its not your problem whether I am with someone or not… We aren’t… We are not us anymore. So- what I do isn’t any concern for you...” You speak in a soft frustrated tone, you try to give him patience especially since you’ve trapped yourself into this conversation.

“But... can't it? Be, my problem? I-I need to make this up to you… You’re… All I’ve had since we were little- and… We’ve been through so much I- and I know this is my fault- and I need to fix this. Please. Let me fix this… Fix us…” he begged, and somewhere in you, you could feel the need to let him, to just give him the time to “fix” what he did, just so you could have him back. So you could feel less lonely. But no, you wouldn’t be able to handle it if he cheated on you again.

Breaking up with Ian was just as big of a loss for you as it was for him. You both lost someone you never thought you would. And God you had loved him. And who knows, maybe you still did, just a little. He took your silence as an urge for him to continue making his case. “I know I can make it up to you... I promise... I miss you so much- I-I want you so badly. And- I’ll be there soon to show you that what I’m saying is true '' he ends his statement with a happy hum, almost proud. You couldn’t take it anymore, you could hear customers in the front of the clowny yogurt shop come in, chatting modestly among themselves

“Goodbye... Ian.” you say, colder than you would’ve thought you could. You hung up before he could beg you to stay and talk to him more. You take a few slow calming breaths and turn to leave, noticing Jack standing in the doorway of the kitchen.

“Jack…” you mutter to yourself, afraid he might’ve overheard the call. He looks to you with a concerned kindness, one that he tends to give you whenever you notice Ian called you and left another message. You look away from Jack and walk quickly past him into the store, slapping on your customer service face and attitude.

Greeting the group of boys mulling in the front of the store. They seem preoccupied going through the yogurt flavors, which unfortunately gives you the time to think through things again. Your mind drifts, thinking of memories of Ian, clearer now than they had been that morning. One memory in particular, it was how he had looked when you kicked him out after finding out he had cheated on you. After running that memory in your mind a few times the memory of meeting Jack slowly started playing too. It hadn’t been long after Ian had left either, and you still weren’t completely sure where he came from. If he was a hallucination, could it have been your loneliness that made you imagine this pretty clown man to befriend you? Maybe that was why he was so attached to you? But, Jack certainly felt real, everytime he touched you, it felt real and so very safe. Maybe you did want him? Your thoughts were broken by a shy dark haired boy who stood in front of you. He couldn’t have been much younger than you, and he sported a gray and black shirt with a large black coat.

“We’re ready- to uh- pay- whenever you are?” he seemed nervous, a light blush spreading over his cheeks as he looked away from you, shifting nervously on his feet. One of the guys in the group set down the last of the three yogurt cups onto the scale, and you finish up their transaction. As two of the three guys start to leave the guy in the dark clothing lingers, glancing slyly at you, trying not to stare but also seeming to also want to admire you. “So- uh- you- work here often?” His blush deepens and he looks away again, clearly embarrassed. You can't help but be confused, annoyed and a little humored by his awkwardness.

“Yeah- unfortunately” you reply, attempting to give a light hearted air to your words.

“C-cool- Cool.” he pushes out, almost relieved you didn't call him an idiot. He seems at a loss for words now too, wanting to continue the conversation but feeling too awkward. He makes small noises before he takes his frozen yogurt and walks out. Once he’s gone you give a sigh and a light smile lingers on your face as you think about how silly that interaction was.

The rain continues to pound outside and your day drones on uneventfully and lacking any customers. Soon enough it was time to close and you did so quickly and happily. By the time you were finished with your last sweep you almost skipped out of the store. Jack smiled softly to you as you locked the door, him holding your umbrella once again. Once you were ready you turned around and the pair of you quietly walked home. He nudges you again about half way through the walk, his familiar gentle motion to let you know he was still around.

Once home you quickly kick off your shoes and flop onto your couch with a heavy sigh. You relax with your eyes closed and a gentle sigh. God you needed this seat.

“Hey.. sunshine?” Jack's soft cooing voice sang as you felt his weight and warmth settle in next to you. “Can I ask- who’s Ian..?” he asked softly. You rolled your head up to look at Jack.

“He’s..” Your gaze falls away from the kind caring clown. “An ex..” You gently hug yourself as you feel yourself become warm from all your emotions washing through you. You wanted to talk about him with Jack. You wanted to get it out. You haven’t really told anyone about what happened. Jack wraps a comforting arm around you after seeing you close in on yourself. His other hand rests on your arms, encouraging you to open up. You swallow your emotion like its pill stuck in your throat, then you continue. “He was all I had since we were kids.. Best friends forever- least we were supposed to be..” You felt your lips gently quiver before shaking your head to try to push it away. “and,, as we had gotten older we became something.. More. I don't think we ever officially labeled it- but we both had the mutual understanding that- we were who the other wanted for,, forever..” You huff softly as you feel the sadness hit you harder than before and Jack pulls you into him. He hugs you just to let you know he’s listening and understanding, to let you know you’re safe.

“So why does it seem like you’re so upset with him.. if you,,” he lingers before continuing “if you.. love him” that question hung in the air for a while. After you don’t respond for a while Jack gently leads your head to look up to him. “I’m sorry if that was too much, sunspot. If you can’t-” You shake your head softly, almost nuzzling into his hand.

“No- no it’s okay Jack,,” you mumble while looking up to him with sad eyes. “Ian.. cheated on me..” You mutter before turning away, almost ashamed to admit it. He pulls you back, running his thumb over your cheek to soothe you.

“I’m so sorry…” he whispers sweetly to you. He was making you feel so cared for and safe and you craved every touch he gave.

“And…” you felt your eyes slowly start to water. “He was all I had for so long... that when I made him leave I… became so very lonely.” You almost whimper to Jack, trying your best not to cry as you spoke. “I miss him so much Jack...” you whisper as you hide your watery eyes against his hand. “Then you came and you were so safe and I'm afraid I don’t feel genuine enough- like I should for you… or if I just feel these things for you because I can’t for Ian.” Tears pour from your eyes as you bite your lip, your voice and body shaking as you fight back sobs. Jack kindly rubs your back and swipes away the tears running down your cheeks.

“And because of that- I'm- afraid I make myself more lonely by pushing you away because I- don't wanna hurt you…but I still probably do hurt you..” You shake your head looking away and leaning against Jack's chest. He softly shushes you and hugs you tightly as you gently sob into him. “And you're so open, and honest, and kind and I don’t know if I’m completely able to feel all of this emotion as much as I want to- just… feel you hold me like this” you whimper as you cling against Jack, gripping his shirt tightly in your hands.

“It’s okay... I’ll be here for you however you need me… always” he promises you, resting his cheek against the top of your head and gently nuzzling. “You don’t have to tell me what you don’t feel you can,, you don’t have to do anything- feel anything you don’t want to feel.” He gives you a firm squeeze as you slowly calm down “You’re perfect…you didn’t deserve what they did to you- but it's okay to feel bad… or even miss them...” His words are like honey, slowly creeping into all your painful thoughts and soothing them, lessening their raw, burning pain. Being heard, letting it out, had helped tremendously. Especially with how Jack was holding you, close and warm.

“I’m sorry...” You murmur, feeling Jack’s hand on your back slowing. “I’m so sorry if I’ve hurt you,, or disappointed you or burdened you or- '' Jack sits up and grabs your face gently. Holding you on either side with his hands, making you look him in the eye.

“None of that sunspot.” He said firmly, his eyes full of nothing but determined care. “You. Are. Perfect.” he says again “You are so amazing- Please never say any of that again” he demanded, his thumb running over your cheek. You look at him with adoration and understanding. You were so close. You nod softly and nuzzle into his hands, soaking up his sweet comforting warmth.

“Jack...” you whisper before looking up to him again with your eyes lingering on his lips. Before you know it, your body draws itself into Jack’s more and your lips find their way to pressing up against his. You feel him push back against your kiss, his hands holding you firm against him. You reach up and gently take one of his hands to lace your fingers together. You felt so overwhelmed with love at that moment. You didn’t want to pull away, but you felt Jack’s lips slowly retreat. You open your eyes and spot Jack’s deep red cheeks and fond eyes looking at you.

“I'm so glad you’re feeling better sunshine.” He says sweetly, and you instinctively nuzzle into the hand against your cheek, turning your head and gently giving it a kiss. That only seems to fluster Jack more. He pulls you against him again, similar to how the pair of you were seated earlier that morning, but this time you didn’t hesitate to kiss Jack as soon as you were situated. The pair of you layed there, trading soft and passionate pecks. Jack occasionally whispers loving praises to you, and soon, you fall asleep in exhaustion against his chest.

#somethings wrong with sunny day jack #swwsdj #sdj #sdj ian #sdj jack #sdj x reader #sunny day jack #sunnydayjack #sunny day jack x reader #sunny day jack x mc #sdj nick #joseph cullman #joseph haberdae #jack haberdae #sdj jacktor #gn!reader #gn!mc #gn reader #gn!y/n

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cannedpickledpeaches · 1 month

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Insert Your Name (6)

Mafia!Jade Leech x Mafia!Reader

Link to series masterlist!

Notes and TW: Here's how they met, and also some other stuff. This series will have mentions of blood, violence, crime (kidnapping, attempted assassination, extortion), and harassment, as one might expect from a mafia AU. Please enjoy!

Tags: @guava-writes @itszzmoon @twstsandturns @myteacupisempty @rou-luxe @chikitasmol

Things feel a little different between you and Jade nowadays. You can’t say you’ve gotten closer. But tentatively, you’re starting to let your guard down around him. You told him what you thought about trusting him.

“The only people who’d trust you,” you explained your theory, “are naïve fools, desperate people, or wary ones who have leverage on you or something to gain.”

He smiled enigmatically. “What category do you believe you fall under?”

“Naïve fool,” you answered without hesitation.

His chuckles in your ear felt like silk. “The fact that you can say that means you are not.”

A part of you still worries, but you’ve decided to give it a chance. No developments can be made if you refuse to take risks. Besides, you don’t have the brainspace to linger on this. The other mystery from his phone call that morning still hasn’t been addressed.

Why did (Y/N) forget you? Is it linked to the spell shielding Barry Moore’s memories from Shock the Heart? After some tests, Azul concluded that it’s not a defensive spell. Instead, it is a high-level spell locking specific memories. Only experienced mages can pull that off, even if it is someone’s Signature Spell. If it’s the same spell, why would (Y/N)’s memories specific to you be blocked off? Does it have to do with how you’re an extra in the book? By that logic, why were Moore’s memories locked, and not yours?

There is one path that has opened up. Jade consolidated a list of mages in the Carpenter Mafia. You’ve spent the past two weeks splitting the investigation into every mage between the two of you. Meanwhile, Jade has continued with advancing the plot. The story says he should be in love with (Y/N) by this point, but he still denies it to you. You have decided to take his word for it.

Your iced coffee tastes like frustration. You fiddle with the straw while observing a barrel-chested man across the street. He browses a luxury watch shop. You’ve been tailing him for a good few days, and you’ve already seen a few glimpses of his magic. His spells are crude and broad. Nowhere near the precision needed to lock specific memories. Maybe he’s acting, too cautious to show his magical prowess. You find it unlikely.

He is the last on your half of the list. Jade is done his half as well, save for someone who is a missing person the last time you checked. Not unusual for a mafia. You still think you should look into it when you return home. Other than that, did you not investigate thoroughly enough? Nobody matches the level of magical skill needed for that spell. You are starting to wonder if you are the one who is making a mistake. Maybe the one responsible is not a mage in the Carpenter Mafia. If not, who is it? The same person who wrote that manuscript in the first place?

Unanswered questions buzz around you like flies. You feel as though the more you investigate into this whole ordeal, the more questions you have. The man leaves the watch shop and you cannot find it in you to leave your corner of the café. It would be a waste of time to follow him.

Even if this investigation fails, not all hope is lost. According to Jade, (Y/N) recently won a raffle that allowed her on a certain movie set. The men you’ve planted amongst the staff reported that Vil Schoenheit took an interest in her natural beauty. The story is flowing onward without a hitch, so if all else fails, you can rely on her doe eyes. She should be able to tug on Vil’s heartstrings until he agrees to cure Jade and Floyd’s parents.

There’s no point in fantasizing about hypotheticals. If the story says it is so, it probably is. Things are easier this way. With that matter put to rest in your mind, your thoughts wander to home. With some free time in your schedule, you could make brunch for your mother. She might be sleeping in today.

Maybe you should take her back to your hometown sometime soon. Right now, you’re both living in your house in the capital of the Queendom of Roses, but you grew up elsewhere. Your hometown is on an isle on the far reaches of the Queendom’s territory, right next to the Coral Sea. That is where you met the twins, and later, Azul.

The memory of your first meeting is still vivid in your mind. You had been strolling along the beach that day on your way home from school. An odd shape caught your eye. Something distinctly green and long, half hidden behind the grey rocks of the cliffside. Loud voices of children your age filled the air. Middle schoolers, all boys. You figured it couldn’t be anything other than trouble.

But then you saw what caught their attention. And just like that, you were rooted to the spot. A long green tail with dark stripes and thin fins thrashed on the sand. Where you might have expected a fish or a sea monster’s head, you instead saw a boy’s upper body. Green, slimy, and snarling with gnashed, saw-like teeth and mismatched eyes, but a boy nonetheless. A boy who was trying his best to appear threatening while human boys stood around him in a circle.

As a child, you weren’t particularly righteous. You didn’t—and still don’t—care much about the livelihoods of people who aren’t close to you. The typical reaction for you would have been to walk away.

In fact, you were just about to turn around when you realized why his tail seemed familiar to you. Your favourite shops by the shore were owned by moray eel merfolk. When you asked your mother about them, she mentioned that moray merfolk weren’t too common. You surmised that whoever this unfortunate kid was, he was probably somewhat related to those rich business owners, and that meant you had something to gain if you helped.

It’s all very flimsy logic, now that you think back. You can forgive yourself for it. At the time, you were twelve years old. And without this incident, you wouldn’t be employed at this very well-paying job in the present day.

So you decided to chase away the boys surrounding the mer. They weren’t doing much other than talking out of curiosity, but they weren’t helping him get back in the water, either. Warning them should have been enough, but you lacked the factor of intimidation. When you yelled at them, they sneered back at you, telling you they wouldn’t listen to what a girl had to say.

In your defense, you were quick to anger as a child. Not that it excuses the five noses you broke under your fists that afternoon.

You stood next to that mer, hands dripping red with blood onto the thin layer of snow over coarse sand. The human boys threatened to tell on you or beat you up or whatever else they could think of, but after you threatened to break their arms too, they ran off. Once the coast was clear, you looked down at the boy beached on the sand. His skin was becoming dull.

“Thank you,” he said, his inhuman mismatched eyes peering up at you. “Can you help me back into the water? It’s a bit hard for me, and my skin is drying out.”

You squatted down a safe distance away from him so that you could see him at eye level. He sounded just like a normal boy. If you ignored the green skin, fins, markings, sharp teeth, and tail, he looked like a normal boy, too—although that was quite a lot to ignore. Well, a boy who looked normal could still be rich.

“Pay me.” You reached out a bloody hand expectantly. He looked at it with a raised eyebrow.

“You’ll be disappointed. I don’t have money on me.”

He wasn’t carrying any bags. But his hand clutched something shiny and blue. Before he could react, you snatched it away from him and held it up to the rays of the setting sun.

They looked like jewels, almost. But too thin, and the texture didn’t feel like any jewel you had ever held. Not that you’d held many. You could have been fooled into thinking it was something valuable based on how the boy bared his teeth at you.

“Give that back. You will regret it if you do not.”

“What is this?”

He held his hand out the way you did when you asked him for money. “Sturgeon scales. Return them.”

They were just scales, it seemed. Not particularly expensive. And your mother always told you it was bad to steal things.

She never explicitly said it was bad to extort people.

“I’ll give them back to you tomorrow if you come here at sunset to give me one hundred thaumarks.” You pocketed the scales. “I’ll push you into the water, but I’m not giving them back until you pay me.”

Begrudgingly, he accepted your help getting back to the embrace of the waves. A mer who looked exactly like him greeted him with a loud, cheerful voice. He even called out to you, asking you to come into the water and fight him, too. That was more trouble than it was worth, so you ignored him and went home with three sturgeon scales in your pocket.

The next day, you waited at the same spot after school. As promised, he arrived with a hundred-thaumark bill. As you exchanged items, he asked why you didn’t ask for more while you had the chance.

You blinked slowly. “I didn’t even think about that.”

“Ya shoulda asked for way more!” A second, identical green head popped out of the water, startling you. You didn’t even know when he arrived. “A hundred thaumarks’s chump change.”

“Must be nice thinking that way.” You crouched by the shore, staring at the money in your hands. Your mother would surely ask where you got it from. You wondered what excuse you would give her this time.

“What do you need money for?” The first twin rested his hand on his chin, his torso propped up on a rock.

You fidgeted with the bill. “My mom needs to buy medicine. She isn’t dying or anything, but it would make her life more comfortable. I can’t earn money, but I want to help.”

“And ya extorted Jade for that?” The more boisterous one laughed. You thought it was a laugh, at least. You had never heard something so similar to crunching glass. “Ya got guts, Red Handfish!”

“Red Handfish?”

“Think of it as a term of endearment.” The first twin—Jade—flicked his tail lightly. “Anyway, if you need money, I have a proposal. If you bring us things that only exist on land, I’ll keep paying you.”

It didn’t seem like a bad deal. Little did you know that it would entangle your lives until the present day.

You’re still contemplating your good? Bad? Fortune of meeting the Leech twins when your phone buzzes, pulling you back to reality. A text from Jade that says: Come to my home office. I have something to discuss with you.

You didn’t think much of it until you arrived at his front gates. Unease flickers in your gut. The mansion is quiet, the courtyard empty. Where are the security guards who should be stationed at the front? It is noon. They can’t all be off work.

You enter the front yard. No movement except for swaying branches from the trees Floyd likes to climb. The sound of the doorbell meets dead silence. Your eyes rove over the massive glass windows on the double doors. The midday sun lights up the neighbourhood behind you, which casts a reflection of your silhouette on the glass. In that reflection, you catch a glimpse of a shadow behind you.

Instincts kick in before your rational mind. Your Signature Spell envelops your body like chainmail. The knife thrusted towards you crashes into invisible armour around your skin. With a flick of a wrist and a punch to the jaw, you disarm your assailant and knock him out. Fluidly, you transition into a kick, the sole of your shoe meeting the throat of another one. More jump out at you. Your body falls into a quick, effortless flow of movements as you knock them unconscious one-by-one. A strike to the temple. Throat. Jaw. Solar plexus. Heart. Groin. Repeat. You would kill them if you had a weapon, but you’re barehanded and doing it that way takes too long. Something is very wrong here. Assassins? Where is Jade? Was that message even from Jade to begin with?

You unlock the door and rush inside, heading straight for his office. It could be a trap. No matter. You are confident you can take care of yourself. Within seconds, you fling open his office door and step inside.

Nothing seems amiss here. In fact, Jade himself sits calmly in his chair. On your side of his desk, a woman stands in the uniform of the security under his employ. Jade gives you a smile.

“You seem out of breath. Would you like a cup of tea?”

You shake your head, confused. “A hot drink is the last thing I need right now. What is going on? Why’d I get attacked?”

Jade shoots a pointed smile at the woman. You’ve known his expressions well enough to tell it is a threat. She chuckles and extends a hand.

“Sorry about that. I told my men not to let anyone enter.”

You shake her hand warily, your Signature Spell still active. “Your men?”

“Yes. Pleasure to meet you. You may call me Walrus. I have been working undercover in the Leech brothers’ residence for . . . Oh, about a month.”

“Walrus” sounds familiar. You wrack your memory. It dawns on you—it was a name in the list of mages working for the Carpenter Mafia. The one who turned out to be a missing person. Was that fake? Your shoulders stiffen. If she’s from a rival mafia, then she’s in the middle of enemy territory.

“Isn’t espionage a little outdated?”

“Not at all. Especially when my Signature Spell is so well suited for it.”

You connect the dots quickly. “You’re the one who locked Barry Moore’s memories?”

“That’s me. He’s under me. I didn’t expect him to be so careless, so I cleaned up after his mistake.” Walrus beams like a teacher congratulating a student. She turns to Jade, talking as though you are not in the room. “She’s quick. And strong enough to incapacitate all my men. Won’t you please lend her to me?”

Jade’s smile borders on dangerous. “She is an essential member of my group. I would be quite burdened if she suddenly left.”

“Please think about it a little more.”

“My decision will not change.”

You hold out your hands. “Hold on. Just give me a second. What is going on?”

Jade’s facial muscles relax imperceptibly. He gestures for you to stand beside him, so you indulge him. Only when you are properly by his side does he answer your question.

“Walrus is not truly part of the Carpenter Mafia, just like how she was not truly part of my security team. Her true allegiance lies with a smaller group in the Queendom that aims to take over the Carpenter Mafia.”

#twisted wonderland #disney twst #jade leech #twst fanfic #twst jade #twst x reader #jade leech x reader #floyd leech #mafia au #slow burn #multi chap fic

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fandomxpreferences · 1 year

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I Hate You. Now Shut Up and Kiss Me.

Masterlist

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x BarrysSister!Reader

TW:frenemies to lovers, angst, fluff, I don't think there's really any warnings tbh

Summary: You and Rafe have been frenemies for years. Until something changes.

Word Count:3.9k

A/N: I feel like this sucks ass but its written so its getting posted

"What's good, Country Club?"

Rafe smirks down at you, excitement coursing through him as the two of you play your little game.

"It's Mr. Country Club to you."

You snort and roll your eyes, your sneakers squeaking on the hardwood as you turn your attention to Topper. Your eyebrow quirks and satisfaction blooms in your chest when he squirms under your gaze.

"Knock off Country Club." You tilt your head in acknowledgment and suppress a laugh bubbling up your throat when he scrunches up his nose.

"God, you really are Barry's sister."

You ignore him and turn back to Rafe, ready to get down to business.

"What are your vineyard vines looking asses doing here? You're stinking up the joint with your rank cologne. What'd you do? Dump the entire bottle on your shirt?"

His cerulean irises twinkle as he takes a step forward, close enough now that you can feel the heat radiating off of his toned body. Your stomach flips when his minty breath fans over your face, and you struggle to keep your composure.

"Stop being mean to me or I'm gonna fall in love with you."

Your lip curls up and you trace your finger from his collarbone to the waistband of his shorts.

"We both know you've been in love with me for years, baby boy."

Rafe's face drops for a split second, but his boyish grin returns as quickly as it left. The way his Adam's apple bobs is tantalizing, and your tongue darts out to wet your lips.

"In your dreams."

Your bottom lip juts out and you tilt your head to the side, a snarky retort on the tip of your tongue.

"Are you sure those aren't your dreams, J.Crew?"

Rafe does his best to hide the effect you have on him as your sinful gaze meets his through your lashes, but the blush staining his cheeks gives him away.

"Wha- No. Of course not."

Your face splits into a shit-eating grin as realization dawns on you, a mischievous sparkle in your eye that Rafe would recognize from a mile away. You remind him of a kid on Christmas morning and he knows he just buried himself in a hole he can't climb out of.

"You dream about me huh, golden boy?"

Butterflies erupt in his stomach; whether it's from hate or the little crush he swears he doesn't have, he isn't sure.

"Whatever. I'm looking for your brother."

Your eyebrows shoot up at his sharp tone, and your arms cross over your chest as you stick a hip out.

"Barrys…busy. So whatever it is you need, you're gonna have to deal with me."

His hand rubs against the back of his neck absentmindedly as he looks around.

"Yeah, I don't want to get you involved. Just tell him I need to see him."

This grabs your attention and you move to block his path when he tries to leave.

"Not so fast money bags. What have you gotten yourself into? Don't go dragging my brother into more of your bullshit."

He stares down at you for a second, smirking at your defiant nature. As much as he hates it, he can't deny the way it makes his spine tingle.

Truthfully, he's a little scared of you and it turns him on. You couldn't waterboard that information out of him with gasoline though, and he bends down so his lips are millimeters from the shell of your ear.

"Don't worry about me, pretty girl. I'll be safe, I promise."

Your nose scrunches up at the pet name and you take a step back

"I'm not worried about you, asshole. I'm worried about my brother."

His lips form a mocking pout as he nods, and your eyes narrow.

"Sure, sweetheart. Tell your brother to call me."

He picks you up and moves you to the side before leaving, grinning when he feels you staring daggers into the back of his head.

The next morning you're awoken by knuckles rapping on the screen door and toss the blanket off with a huff before stomping to see who it is. You rip the door open, ready to cuss out whoever is on your doorstep when you stop.

None other than Rafe Cameron is looking back at you, fresh-faced with bright eyes. His gaze rakes over your form, taking in your tangled hair and smudged mascara.

He stops for a moment when he sees your pajama shorts that leave little to the imagination before returning his eyes to yours.

"Morning sunshine."

You scowl, hand rubbing at your eye aggressively as you try to wake up, and his lip quirks. It's still early enough for the grass to be covered in dew as the birds chirp; the type of serene that makes you want to curl up with a book in a hammock.

"I swear you get uglier every time I see you."

His hand comes to rest over his heart, eyes gleaming as he revels in the banter.

"That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

You roll your eyes, decidedly too tired to deal with this and yawn.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

His hands shove into his pockets, a nonchalant pose that makes your blood boil; it pisses you off that he looks so good without even trying.

"Told you I need to see Barry."

You stare back at him with a blank face, far from pleased with his answer.

"You need to see him at.." You lean back to look at the clock on the stove and frown. "7:30 in the morning? Who the fuck is even up and ready to do anything except shotgun an energy drink this early?"

He chuckles at your grumpiness and shrugs.

"Me, obviously. I know it's early but try and use your big girl brain. Is he here?"

Your eyes narrow at his dig, and you almost slam the door in his face before deciding against it. Rafe is a pest you can't get rid of, and you know he'll just keep knocking until he gets what he wants.

"Barry! Get the fuck up!"

Rafe winces at your volume and you raise your eyebrows.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did my loudness disturb you?"

You hear your brother's muffled voice asking you what you want and close your eyes in annoyance.

"Country Club is here to see you. Apparently, it's important enough to be here before God is awake."

There's swearing from your brother's room as he gets up, and you take a step back to let him in the door frame when he finally rises from the dead.

"You can't just show up whenever you want, bruh. You're getting way too comfortable. Why do you need me anyway? She can more than handle your ass."

Your brother's voice is still thick with sleep, and you lean back on the arm of the couch as you listen to the interaction.

"I'm not so sure she could. Anyway, I have a problem and I need your help."

Barry sucks his teeth and scoffs, seconds away from crawling back into bed.

"Man, I don't give a fuck about your little figure eight problems. Do I like a god damn therapist? Figure it out, bruh."

The door is half shut when Rafe's voice rings out again, and Barry stops.

"I'll pay you."

You heave a sigh as your brother takes a step outside. One thing about Barry, if there's money involved he'll listen. He'll do anything for a price.

Their voices are faint as they talk, and you strain trying to eavesdrop. You're not able to make out any real words and decide to just crawl back into bed. You prop up on one elbow when you hear him come back inside, curiosity getting the best of you.

"What the fuck was that about?"

Barry casts you a sideways glance as he passes, tossing a wad of cash on the table in the process.

"Nah, you're sitting this one out, sis. I don't want you caught up in this."

You jump up and follow him, hot on his heels as he makes his way back to his bedroom.

"Rafe said the same thing. I expect it from him, but you? Barry, we're always partners. If you're caught up, then so am I."

He chuckles lowly with his back still turned, and shakes his head.

"Not this time."

As if he can tell you're about to argue, he speaks again.

"Just fucking drop it, Y/N. Aight? Trust me."

You tap your foot a couple of times before resigning to the fact he's not going to tell you and turn on your heel.

"Yeah, whatever."

Later that day, you spot Rafe and storm up to him. His eyebrows shoot up when your finger jabs into his chest and he stops, his drink almost sloshing out of the cup at the sudden force.

"Listen, Cameron. I'm not some weak girl that can't handle whatever the fuck you have going on. I don't need you to protect me. So what the hell are you getting my brother into?"

You can see the gears turning in his head and scoff.

"Don't even think about lying to me right now, Rafe."

He pinches the bridge of his nose with his head tilted back, and you try your best not to linger on the way his jawline is sharp enough to cut steel.

"Look, it's not that I think you're fragile or that you can't be trusted. It's just better if there are less people involved."

You falter for a moment, taken aback by his honesty and the genuine distress in his voice.

"What the hell is going on, Rafe? I've never seen you like this."

For a moment, the ruse falls and you're filled with concern. Rafe doesn't get shaken up, so whatever has him this worked up must be really bad.

"Listen, I know we're not friends. Hell, we're practically enemies. But whatever you hear on the news, just know what they're saying about me isn't true."

He leaves it at that, and you watch as he walks away. What the hell does that mean?

Two days later, your question is answered. You stare at the TV slack-jawed with wide eyes as Shoupe gives a statement about Rafe's arrest. Something about him killing someone; you aren't sure of the exact details. Your brain is too busy putting the pieces together to really pay attention.

Barry walks out and stops when he sees what you're watching, his head dropping.

"Is this what Rafe was here about the other morning?"

His words ring in your ears as you try to make sense of the new information. 'Whatever they're saying about me isn't true.'

You can tell by the way your brother shifts that you're right, and you release a shaky breath.

"Barry, what was the money for?"

He knows you're more so demanding rather than asking, and plops down in the armchair.

"A fall guy."

The revelation nearly sucks the wind out of your lungs, and your hand runs through your hair.

"So he did it?"

Barry shakes his head, his hand coming up to rub over his face.

"I don't know, man. He says he didn't, but who knows with that crazy motherfucker."

You ponder his words for a moment, genuinely at a loss. Rafe is a lot of things, but a murderer? You just can't bring yourself to believe it.

"Someone innocent wouldn't need a fall guy."

Your own statement hits you like a train, and your eyes flutter closed. You suppose it doesn't matter either way. Someone like Rafe won't go down for something like this, even without a fall guy. People with money are always above the law.

Rafe is a particular brand of danger; he has wealth and power. The two combined make him practically untouchable.

"How did they catch him, anyway? He could've been out of the country before they even realized."

Your brother sucks in a sharp breath, and your eyes narrow.

"Someone must have turned him in. There was a hefty reward."

You stay silent for a moment, your eyes darting back and forth as you put two and two together.

"Barry, tell me it wasn't you."

The air is thick as he averts his gaze, and you launch up from your seat.

"You can't be that stupid, bro! You double-crossed a Cameron? As soon as he gets out, we're gonna be the first people he comes after!"

Barry stands, his face mere inches from yours as he glowers down at you.

"He was gonna get out anyway, and we need the money!"

You shake your head in disbelief at your brother's idiocy.

"Barry, it doesn't matter! You broke the trust and he's not gonna let that slide. Even if he does, he'll sure as shit never work with you again, which means no more big payouts. You think the reward was more than what we would have made from all of Rafe's side deals?"

You see the moment he realizes you're right and scoff, aware he's too stubborn to admit it.

"You're unbelievable."

A week later, Rafe is a free man exonerated from all wrongdoing. Turns out he didn't even need the fall guy because he was truly innocent. Apparently, he just likes to have all his bases covered. Against your better judgment you seek him out, and much to your surprise his gaze is soft when it meets yours.

"Hey, country club."

His face breaks out in a roguish grin as he nods in greeting, and you wring your hands together.

"Hey, trouble."

You gulp, nerves eating at you as you run through all the different ways this could go.

"Listen, I need you to know that the shit my brother pulled? I had nothing to do with that. I'm not that dumb. I would have stopped him if I knew about it. We may not be friends, but I would have never betrayed you for money. Whatever you're planning, that shit is between you and him."

His intense gaze is locked on yours, and you silently pray that he believes you. You release a breath you didn't know you were holding when he nods, and nearly cry from relief.

"I know."

You tsk and force a small smile, trying to conceal your anxiety.

"So we're good?"

His finger traces along your jaw at a languid pace before stopping at your chin, and your breath hitches.

"Yeah, sweetheart. We're good. Tell your brother he's lucky you're his sister. It's the only reason he's still breathing."

He doesn't give you a chance to respond and you're left wondering what the hell he means for the second time.

It's two weeks of radio silence after your little run-in. You haven't seen Rafe and as you predicted, he's stopped showing up with random jobs. It's not until your phone rings for the third time at nearly 2 am that you hear from him.

Your hand reaches out and blindly flops around trying to find the device, ready to chuck it at the wall. You lazily open one eye to peek at the caller ID and sit up fast enough to see stars when you read 'Country Club'.

Your finger swipes to answer and you press the speaker to your ear, waiting for him to start speaking. Rafe is always going a hundred miles an hour right off the bat, rarely giving you a chance to greet him before he launches into his latest opportunity he just has to tell you about.

When he doesn't talk, you frown and break the silence.

"I was wondering when you were gonna call. There's been a distinct lack of daggers to my throat lately."

If it wasn't for the labored breathing on the other end, you would think he hung up, and it's another thirty seconds before you speak again.

"Rafe? Is everything okay?"

He sounds like he's struggling, and you don't quite understand the feeling that bubbles up inside you. Sure, you give Rafe a hard time and the two of you have your bickering. However, if anyone else were to hurt him in any capacity you're fairly certain you would kill them with your bare hands.

It's quiet for another beat and once he finally replies, your heart stutters.

"I didn't have anyone else to call."

You scowl at this; surely the kook king has someone in his circle other than a low-level drug dealer he can rely on. He's always surrounded by people, and it's just now occurring to you that maybe none of them are true friends. How lonely it must be to only have superficial relationships based on status and how they can further your reputation.

"For what? What happened?"

You're fully awake now, your chest tight as you think about all the possibilities.

"It's nothing, actually. I'll let you get back to sleep, I'm sure you're tired."

Panic surges through you when you realize he's about to hang up and your voice rings out more frantic than you were expecting.

"I'm fine, don't worry about me. Where are you?"

You hear him sigh and can almost picture the frown lines on his pensive face.

"The docks. I just needed some air. Listen, I'm really sorry for bothering you. This crosses so many lines and you already hate me."

There's an underlying sadness as he finishes his sentence that makes your stomach turn, and you shake your head despite the fact he can't see you.

"I don't hate you, Rafe."

You're about to elaborate when he sniffles, and something in you shatters at the realization that he's crying alone in the dark.

"Thanks for picking up. I'll see you around."

He ends the call before you can say anything else, and without thinking you're on your feet and grabbing your keys.

The docks are dimly lit as you walk around, trying to figure out where the hell he is. Your eyes land on the Druthers with a single light on and you make your way towards it.

Rafe is laying on his back when you finally see him, a half-empty bottle of scotch next to his torso. He lifts his head when he hears your footsteps, shock painted on his features.

"You came?"

The notion is almost ridiculous to you. You've been playing this cat-and-mouse game for years; you thought that he'd surely figured out you truly care for him by now, even if you try to act like you don't.

"You called. Of course, I came. What's going on?"

A cool breeze whips around you as you loom over him, hands in your back pockets as you wait for him to open up. You can smell the faint aroma of whiskey mixed with salt water, and you can't help but think it's distinctly Rafe.

You heave a sigh, legs coming in contact with the cold deck of the yacht as you sit cross-legged by his side.

Out of pure instinct, your soft hand thumbs away a tear that's streaking down Rafe's face toward his hairline, and If you didn't know any better you'd think he leaned into your touch.

"Come on, trust fund. Spill."

His lip quirks a bit at the nickname, grateful that you're not treating him like glass. There's a comforting air around you, yet it still feels normal as you tease him. It's disarming, and he finds the barbed wire embedded in his heart starting to loosen.

"Just another fight with my dad. Nothing I ever do is good enough."

You hum in understanding, the hand still resting on his face now smoothing over his buzzcut.

"I'm not going anywhere. Tell me about it."

You mean it; Jesus Christ himself could tell you to walk away and you'd stay planted firmly in place. The tides have shifted, and the last place you want to be is anywhere the Rafe isn't.

"He just puts so much pressure on me. Bullshit about how I'm going to the man in charge when he's retired. One day I'm his pride and joy, the next I'm a disgrace. I'm tired of trying."

You gnaw on the inside of your cheek, unsure which direction to take this. Is he wanting you to give him advice and tell him Ward is a piece of shit?

Or is he wanting you to tell him everything is going to be okay and to take it with a grain of salt? You're not sure you can bring yourself to say the latter.

"Listen, Ward is a greedy self-serving asshole who doesn't think about anyone other than himself. You're his only son, which means he's harder on you and that isn't fair. Truthfully, he's probably projecting because he sees that you're capable of being everything he isn't. He's intimidated because you can take his spot."

The look in Rafe's eyes as he peers up at you is intense, a new emotion you haven't seen before swirling in his ocean irises. He seems to be coming to a realization, most likely the same one as you as the words roll off your tongue.

You move to lay beside him, your arm propped under your head as you rest on your side. He can't help but notice how your hair is spread out like a halo, the intoxicating scent of lavender and tanning oil seeping into his bones.

"Do you really believe that?"

You stare directly into his soul, trying to make him feel that yes, you really do.

"I believe that you just want his approval. I also believe that you have to stop needing it in order to be happy. Fuck what your dad thinks. He's not the one that has to look back on your life at the end and make peace with the life you chose. Live for yourself; no one else matters."

Your voice is soft and whispy, dripping over him like a melting ice cream cone on a hot summer day. He frowns, and you resist the urge to smooth out the lines it causes between his brows.

"You matter."

Your eyes dart down to his lips for a moment, a light sheen on the plump flesh from where he's been licking them. You see him gulp, his mouth parting at the sudden lust in your eyes.

"You seem nervous, Country Club. Do I make you nervous?"

Your voice is barely above a whisper, scared to break the trance you're both in.

"A good nervous."

His tone is equally soft, your bodies now nearly touching as you subconsciously shift toward each other. You don't bother responding; no more words are needed.

Time stands still as you both lean in and your brain short circuits when his lips touch yours for the first time. Years of pining and faux hatred are spilled into the kiss, your emotions running rampant as everything finally comes to a head.

His tongue runs across your bottom lip, and you grant him access, nearly moaning at the taste. It's expensive scotch mixed with spearmint, a heavenly combination that you would never expect to love.

His hand tangles in the hair at the nape of your neck, pulling you impossibly closer as you move to straddle his waist. You stay there for several minutes, just soaking each other in as the world melts away.

He finally pulls away breathless, lips bruised in the most beautiful way, and blinks up at you.

"Still think I'm ugly?"

You nod your head, trying to catch your breath as you stare at his mouth.

"The ugliest."

@veescorneroftheworld. @genius2050

#rafe cameron imagine #Rafe Cameron angst #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron angst #Rafe Cameron fluff #outer banks imagine #outer banks angst #outer banks fic #outer banks #outerbanks #outerbanks imagine #outerbanks fic #outerbanks angst #obx imagine #obx angst #obx fluff

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cameronspecial · 15 days

Text

A New Kind Of Normal (Part 6)

Pairing: Dad!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Drug Use, Mentions about Relapse and Talks About Getting Better After a Relapse

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 2.0K

Summary: Rafe doesn't know if he has what it takes to be the person that Stella and Y/N deserve.

Masterlist

Rafe has been giving Y/N her space, but it didn’t mean he stopped trying to get her to forgive him. He sent letter after letter. Gift after gift. All of them returned. NA meetings, anger management sessions, therapy appointments and calls from Diana all go ignored as he seeks solace in his drug of choice and ways of getting Y/N to let him back into her life. It is safe to say his week is not going so great.

Lucky or maybe unlucky for him, Wheezie and Sarah were still allowed to see the light of his life and would report back to him how she had been doing. Learning how much Stella misses him causes guilt to form in his stomach. He told his father he wouldn’t be the type of father to leave his daughter, but it was his decision that forced Y/N to create that distance. Every fibre of his body wants to hate Y/N for taking Stella away from him and causing Stella pain by doing so, yet he only seems to crave Y/N’s smile and proximity. He craves their late-night phone calls and her reassurance that he can stay sober. The silence on her end makes him believe she has given up on him. That he has no hope of getting back on the proverbial horse. Again, the only thing that can help remove the little voice inside his head saying he isn’t good enough for his dad, Y/N and Stella is the powder the powder that dries up his nose..

After yet another attempt to gain Y/N’s forgiveness doesn’t work, Rafe finds himself returning home from Barry’s with Ziploc bags in his pockets. He has been sleeping in his house in the Outer Banks since his apartment near Y/N’s only reminds him of what he has lost. Before he met Stella, he thought the big house was all he could ask for. That the material things could fill him with happiness. But with Y/N and Stella now in his life, he knows he could not have been more wrong. He begins to feel he will never be happy again without them in his life and he rushes to the closest flat surface.

His hands shake as he tears the bag open, letting the coke spill all over the entranceway table. He takes his credit card out and starts to form line after line. One finger comes up to his nose to block one of his nostrils so the other can inhale the drug. He does every single line until he runs out. Frustration overcomes him when he can’t get the next bag out of his pocket, so he gives up and opts to try to sleep to help dull his toxic thoughts. He is too lazy to move out of the front room, lying down in the middle of the room spread out like a starfish.

——

Sarah and Wheezie find their older brother as soon as they open his front door. Sarah would have walked on top of him if she wasn’t looking where she was going. Both girls knew what had happened and that he wasn’t faring well. They knew he had started using again. Wheezie kneels beside Rafe’s head and slaps him awake. He bolts forward, letting out a gasp of fear. “What did you do that for?” he groans, rubbing his cheek. She looks at him with slight disappointment, “We both know you wouldn’t have woken up if we tried a nicer way of doing it.” “Okay, that may be true. What are you doing here?” he questions. It is Sarah’s turn to reply. “We are worried about you. We know you are using again and you are never going to get sober again if you don’t talk to someone.” He lies back down with a shake of his head, “What is the point of getting sober again if I’m never going to see Stella again?”

Sarah doesn’t respond for a second; instead, she looks for something in her purse. She finally finds what she is looking for and pulls out a piece of paper. Rafe takes the outstretched paper hesitantly. The worry that he is about to read a custody agreement from Y/N fills him with dread. However, he carefully unfolds the paper to find a drawing. The stick figures with pointy hats would not make any sense to most people, but to her father, he knew exactly what they were meant to be. It is a picture of him and his little girl holding hands with witches’ hats on their heads. The big round circle beside him must be a cauldron and the black blob beside Stella must be the cat she has always wanted. The only word he can make out from the indecipherable letters is Stella’s name. Y/N is doing such a great job at teaching Stella to write her name.

Wheezie can see the confusion about the words on Rafe’s face and goes in to translate for him. “It says get well soon. Y/N told Stella the reason you aren’t coming over is because you are sick. You want a reason to get sober?” Wheezie starts to explain. “That’s your reason to get sober again. Yes, you may not be able to see her right now, but that little girl is waiting for you to come back and you are never going to do that if you keep spiralling.” He sits back up to see the picture in a better light. Tears start to form in his eyes as all his feelings about missing his daughter come crashing down.

“She needs me still,” he whispers to himself. Yes, his father and Y/N may think he is useless but Stella doesn’t. She hasn’t forgotten about him and still wants him to come back even after he hasn’t talked to her in a week. That is one thought he doesn’t want to leave his head, except he realizes it always does whenever he seeks comfort from the cocaine. It may help him forget about the pain Ward has caused him, but he also forgets the love he gets from Stella. And that beats every other feeling. He gets up from the floor, pulling the rest of the coke easily out of his pocket now that he can think a little more clearly. He hands it to Sarah, “Get rid of this for me, please?” She nods her head and he brings both of his sisters in for a hug. “Thank you for not giving up on me. I promise I’m going to try again,” he tells them. They both return the hug, Wheezie pressing her head against his shoulder, “We believe you and we are here to help.” He may never hear those words from his father, but he is so glad he has his sisters to give him the support their father never could.

——

“I screwed up, Diana. She’s never going to forgive me.” Diana gives him a concerned look, “Rafe, it’s going to take more than a week for her to forgive you, especially since you only decided to try to get sober today.” Rafe nods his head, playing with the band of his watch. “Right… So you think I have a chance,” he hopes. She gives him a soft smile, “I do. If you give her time and take this one day at a time, I think she’ll come around. Show her how much they both mean to you.” “I can do that. One day at a day,” he repeats.

——

Luna’s Diner feels so much darker with the knowledge that Y/N is angry at him. He knows he should give her space, but this week has been the longest he has gone without seeing Stella or Y/N. He’s nervous as he listens to the little bell announce his arrival. The little girl at the counter looks up from her colouring and her face lights up when she sees who it is. “Daddy!” she yells, running over to him. He picks her up and brings her into a tight hug. “Are you feeling better, Daddy?” He gives her a kiss on the temple, “I am, little witch. Thank you for my card. I loved it.” Rafe sits on a stool with Stella in his lap. She tells him everything he has missed during their week away. Sabrina is now her friend again because they realize Will is a gross boy. Stella and Sabrina are now dating and their wedding is on Monday.

“Uncle Benny and I made sculptures. His was as tall as me,” she recounts, throwing her arms apart to exaggerate. Rafe giggles at how happy she is. The sight Y/N comes back to angers her and she is about to blow a fuse. “What are you doing here?” she grits through her teeth. She rounds the counter to take Stella in her hands. He stands up with his hands in the air to show he meant no harm, “I just wanted to talk to you. And catch up with Stella.” “You lost the right to do that when you rela- when you did what you did while Stella was home,” she argues.

“I know, you know I regret that completely. I will never forgive myself for putting her in danger. I want you to know I’m back on track to getting better.”

“That’s great. But I can’t just trust you like that again Rafe,” she snaps her fingers to iterate her point. “I want you to leave, please.” Stella looks between the two adults in confusion, wondering why it seemed they were talking in code. Rafe looks into Y/N’s eyes and sees the frustrations she feels. He doesn’t want to cause her any more trouble, so he heads toward the door. “Daddy, where are you going? Aren’t you going to play with me?” Stella calls out in a plea. His heart stops for a second and he doesn’t know how to get it to start beating again. He shakes his head sadly, “I’m sorry, little witch, but I have to go. I have work tomorrow.” Stella’s eyes start to brim with tears. “But you didn’t give me a hug yet,” she cries, holding out her arms for him. He looks at Y/N to confirm he is allowed to and she gives a solemn nod. She can’t deny her daughter a moment with her father.

Y/N puts Stella down on the floor and Stella runs to her father. She goes into his arms, burying her head into his neck, “Bye-bye, Daddy. Forever and always?” He returns the intensity of her hug and kisses her. “Forever and always.” Her feet find the floor again and she watches as Rafe leaves her. He turns around when on the other side of the glass, blowing the little girl a kiss. Stella may not understand what is going on between her parents, but she can sense something has changed between them and that she might never see her father again. She goes back to her mother with hopeful eyes, “When can we see Daddy again?” “I don’t know, Baby. I’m sorry,” Y/N hates to say, giving the girl a hug to comfort her.

——

Rafe does not blame Y/N for still being mad at him and for being hesitant to bring her back into their lives. He broke her trust, which is a sacred thing. The gifts were obviously not working and he is honestly glad it doesn't. Thinking back on it, he wants to gain her trust back through actions instead of materialistic things. He isn’t sure how to make it up to her, but he knows he can start a plan. First things, booking his next therapy appointment and increasing how often he sees Dr. Winters. Next, he will meet with Diana and reflect on why he relapsed so he can make a relapse prevention plan. Finally, make a list of possible places to go to rehab if he feels he can’t get sober in his current environment.

Yes, this plan isn’t about getting back Y/N, but it helps him with recovering from his relapse and this will hopefully show Y/N how serious he is. As he writes down his plan, he vows to do everything in his power to gain back Y/N’s trust and show her he will never make the mistake of putting Stella in danger again.

Taglist: @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @drewstarkeyswifehoe @kisstaya @magicalyoura @mp-littlebit @loverfu55ii @dark1paradise @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @alyisdead @emeloyy @js-a-writer @kisstaya @optimisticsandwichgladiator

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burntheedges · 5 months

Text

to know the light

Din Djarin x gn!reader | word count: 2.1k | ao3

summary: to go in the dark with a light is to know the light.

a/n: this is for the @pedrostories Secret Santa event! I hope you like it, ro!! @lincolndjarin It ended up way more introspective than I planned, but I think it’s still pretty fluffy. The summary is a line from a poem by Wendell Barry, which is quoted at the bottom in full.

tags/warnings: fluff, a teensy bit of angst, introspection, winter, food mention, reader has no description

...

There are times when Din is grateful for the helmet.

On days like today, when the sunlight reflecting off the snow drifts is bright enough to burn spots across your vision, when the cold is so sharp you feel like the muscles in your face are frozen and immovable, when the tips of your ears and the bridge of your nose are bitten by the icy wind, well — it’s been a long time since Din actually experienced any of those sensations for himself.

But he almost feels the ghost of them against his skin, watching you.

He watches you squint against the sun and blink away its reflection on the pristine snow, eyes watering. He stands just inside the Crest and touches your face with his bare hands, warming your skin from playing with Grogu out in the cold. He gently applies salve to your wind burns, frown hidden by the helmet as he frets about his inability to protect you from such unjust enemies as cold weather.

He watches, and he wonders. What does it feel like, to have the icy wind howl across your face? To always raise a hand to block the light of the sun? It’s been so long since he’s dealt with such normal, everyday, human concerns. It’s like he’s feeling them for the first time, every time he experiences one through you.

Din loses himself imagining it again as he wades through the snow drifts that are stacked high along the path between the Crest and the nearby settlement. He knows, intellectually, that the midday sun reflecting off of the snow around him is bright and harsh, even as his visor corrects the glare. He knows, as he feels it zip through the small gaps in his cowl and nip at his neck, that the wind is frigid and biting.

But he also knows that the landscape is beautiful. You’d said so, just this morning, as you stood on the open ramp of the Crest and shivered. You’d been bundled up in your warmest clothing and wrapped in a blanket, cradling Grogu against your neck. Din had watched as both of you gasped, awestruck by the sunrise over fields of snow and ice and frost-covered trees, all completely untouched in the morning light.

After you’d gone inside, Din had looked out over the same landscape and wondered what he might be missing.

Looking at it now, he feels the sudden desire to know so strongly that he has to close his eyes and clench his fists to keep them still. He’s becoming a hoarder, and he knows it. Recognizes it, but can do nothing to stop it. He’s greedy, gathering little moments to his chest and holding them there, protecting them. Cherishing them.

He’s hoarding the moments when he looks at things with his own eyes. Without the helmet.

It feels dangerous. It feels like testing his limits, like inviting in a feral lothcat and letting it wind around his legs. Like any moment someone will come in and catch him looking. But every time he looks at you with his own eyes, the outline of you is burned onto his retinas like the sun spots he imagines the bright snow burns on yours.

Eyes still closed as he walks steadily down the path, Din thinks back to the moment from just this morning, when he woke next to you in the bunk on the Crest. He releases the memory from his tight, protective grasp, breathing it in and letting it fill his lungs. He sinks back into the feeling of opening his eyes and finding your face in front of him. The curve of your cheek, the slope of your neck. The whisper of your breath in your sleep. He’d wished, just for a moment, that he could lift your blindfold and look at you in full.

Din’s heart races nervously at the thought, even now.

The memory of that moment, of his eyes tracing paths across your skin with no barrier in the way, glows like an ember inside of his chest. It warms him and it burns him all at once. It’s enough that he barely feels any chill at all as he finally steps around a bend in the path and the small settlement spreads out in front of him.

Din takes a moment to carefully tuck the memory away before he steps across the invisible boundary into the town, alert as always in unfamiliar surroundings.

The town, whose name he has not yet learned, is fully overgrown to bursting with blue and silver decorations for the annual winter festival. It’s the reason you and Grogu had set out without him just hours before while he worked on a few repairs, sorely needed before they could fly to the next planet. He’d watched the interest spark in your eyes and the joy take over Grogu’s face and had nodded immediately, as soon as you suggested exploring the town and seeing what the festival was all about. He can't resist you, not ever, but especially not when he can see the excitement shining on your face. He wishes, briefly, that he could add a memory of your eyes, alight with wonder, to his collection. He pushes the yearning away before he can dwell on it.

Walking through the town, Din tries to imagine what you and Grogu were thinking as you did the same. What did you notice? What drew your eye? He lets his gaze dance across the arches woven from ribbons and winterblooms, down the paths strung with twinkling lights, over the happy faces of the crowd. He knows you were probably smiling, utterly charmed by everything and everyone around you, delighted to explore something new. He can picture it like you’re walking right next to him.

Soon enough, he turns onto the main square. It wouldn’t be noticeable to most, perhaps just you and Grogu, but he is arrested by the sight in front of him, so taken aback that he pauses, just briefly, actually surprised into stillness. The fountain dominating the center of the square has five frothy tiers that reach high above all of the buildings around it. It is completely frozen — almost like they sent it cascading upwards and stopped it at its highest point, preserving it in time. It shines like clear glass in the bright light of the sun. Even the tiny spouts of water dancing in complicated patterns around the edges of the fountain are frozen perfectly, like delicate lace. Din recognizes, somewhere deep in his mind, that he would not have let something like this capture his attention before he met you. The knowledge tugs at something deep inside of his chest, and his hand twitches, almost rising to rub at the spot. He blinks, momentarily stunned, before smoothly continuing his forward motion and scanning the square around him. Looking for you.

It doesn’t take him long to find you.

You and Grogu are at the fountain — you’re sitting on its edge, framed by the graceful slopes of frozen water behind you. You're watching and smiling as Grogu dances along it, waving his tiny hands and swaying. Din notes, distantly, that he’s dancing to the music coming from the stage across the square. He watches as you laugh and play with his son, offering him your gloved finger to help him spin in little joyful circles. He can almost hear Grogu’s giggle from 30 feet away.

You turn your head, and Din moves smoothly to the right to partially shield himself behind a column of flags on the side of a booth. They’re woven from the same ribbons he’s seen decorating every building and booth (and person). He takes the opportunity to simply observe you and his son enjoying each other’s company. He realizes, once he lets his eyes drift away from your faces, that you’re each wearing crowns of winterblooms. He smiles as he imagines the looks on both of your faces when you saw the fountain for the first time.

He knows that as much as he watches you, you also watch him. And so he isn’t surprised when, only a few moments later, you look up again and look right at him, even partially hidden as he is. The smile that blooms across your face has him moving before he even realizes he’s taken a step.

Not towards you, though. Din starts to smirk as he moves, letting his instincts take over to conceal himself in the crowd. He knows you’ve lost sight of him, glances back to find you looking over the crowd with narrowed eyes. You stand, shielding your gaze against the bright winter sun with one hand, but you’re already looking in the wrong direction. He starts to grin and feels the anticipation surge down his spine as he moves slowly around the other side of the fountain.

A few moments later he steps to the side of a small group of dancers and brings his hands up to snake around your waist from behind, pulling you back into his chest. You gasp and Grogu squeals, delighted. Din knows in that moment that if anyone could see his face, they’d know exactly how he feels about you. He wouldn’t be able to hide it, not without the protection of the helmet.

“Din!” You’re laughing, head thrown back to rest on his shoulder. “How do you always do that?” He tucks his face into your neck and enjoys the feeling of you easily sinking into his embrace. He chuckles lowly in your ear and murmurs, “I’m a hunter, cyar’ika. You know how.”

You release a breath and spin in his arms. “You don’t have to hunt me, you know. I’m already caught.” You raise one eyebrow at him and bite down on your smile. He moves his right hand up to cup your cheek and gently frees your bottom lip, smoothing his gloved thumb over it.

“Maybe I just need to be reminded, sometimes.” He can hear his own tone, and notes that it’s thoughtful. Almost wistful. He knows you can hear it, too, and watches as you tilt your head to study him.

You smile again. “Then you should hunt me whenever you like.” You wrap your arms around his waist and step closer into his embrace. “I will always be happy to be caught. To remind you.” He leans forward to press his forehead against your own, briefly, just long enough for both of you to feel the kiss before he steps back.

“How’s the festival?” He looks down at Grogu, who is smiling up at both of you with his little arms raised. Din stoops to pick him up and his son starts babbling what he assumes is the tale of their day so far.

You laugh again. “Well, I think that sums it up.” He shakes his head and huffs out a laugh. “There’s a ceremony in a little while, with lights and food, apparently. We thought we might stick around for that before heading back.” He nods, agreeing with your plan. Grogu cheers.

Din sits on the fountain next to you and listens as you share what you’ve done in your hours apart, and what you have left to explore before the light ceremony. What Grogu liked and how much of the festive blue food he’s eaten (which is, as always, impressive). Where you got the crowns of winterblooms and what has been your favorite thing about the festival so far. What you’ve seen and felt and heard and tasted.

He listens, and looks over the square, tracing your path through your story. He watches in his mind’s eye as you stop at that booth, as you taste those cakes, as Grogu dances with the crowd of children by the small stage. He can see the moments play out in front of him through your eyes and your words and your memories. He’s helpless against the soft smile that takes over his face.

Din knows what he sees through his visor is different from what you and Grogu see, and a small part of him mourns that difference, sometimes. But an even larger part of him has come to understand that knowing it through you is a gift that he never could have asked for, never would have known to look for. He’d never even thought it possible to know the world through someone this way. To know anything or anyone this way.

There are times that Din is grateful for the helmet, but more and more often, lately, there are times when he wishes, with a fervor that frightens him, that he could experience life without it.

But he’s learning to see the galaxy through your eyes and through the eyes of his son. And for now, at least, that is enough.

…

To go in the dark with a light is to know the light. To know the dark, go dark. Go without sight, and find that the dark, too, blooms and sings, and is traveled by dark feet and dark wings.

Wendell Berry, 2007

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x gn!reader #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin #x reader #my fic #pedrostories #pedrostoriesgift23 #pedro stories secret santa

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velvet-paradox · 2 years

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Fandom: Outer Banks Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Female reader Summary: When Ward kicks Rafe out of the house, he has nowhere to go until you run into him. Length: Long Warnings: NSFW 18+ ONLY, reader discretion advised, explicit language, strong language, angst, sad Rafe, drug use, fingering, oral (m receiving), protected P in V, detailed smut.

ENJOY!!!

"You owe me." You said as you pulled your truck down the bumpy road to old John Routledge's road, bouncing around in the cabin as you drove, the little air freshener hanging off of your rear view mirror swaying wildly.

Fall was just on the cusp, colored leaves threating the ground as you turned on your blinker, a stickler for not having Shoupe stop you for some miniscule traffic stop on such a fine day if he were around trying to make quota.

"Yeah yeah."

"I mean it this time!" You voiced. You weren't just some limo service or cabbie on The Cut but Pope was technically family, your parents being his parents best friends before either you or the young man shaking around in the passenger seat were born some twenty odd years ago. He had passed his written but not the actual behind the wheel test just yet.

"I said yeah!" Pope grumbled, grabbing an overnight and a large water bottle from the back before he hopped out, giving the door a hearty slap to send you on your way.

"I'll pick you up on Sunday. And hey, Pope?"

"Yeah?" He stopped, holding his pillow.

You pointed at him from the inside, JJ gave you a little wave with two beer cans in hand before jogging down towards the watery bank. "Be safe." ....

Leaning forward you could see the clouds rolling in, a storm was on its' way and you wanted to get home before it hit. You turned down the radio as if that would help in your beat up truck. At the stop sign you saw someone trudging their way along the bank, no sidewalk was in place at this corner of the street. You slowed and made your turn, headlights illuminating a tall, familiar form. Reaching over you rolled down the passenger window.

"I know that's not Rafe Cameron on my side of the island." You called, putting the truck into park with the flashers on, just in case.

Rafe slowed to a stop, hands in his pockets before answering with a quiet "Hey."

"Hey, yourself. What, Barry's not home?"

"Oh he's home."

"Where's your truck?" You looked around at the empty street, a stray cat ducking underneath one of the parked cars on his side of the street.

"My dad drove it home."

"Without you?" You asked once you hopped out, that blue polo that brought out his eyes sat nice and tight over his chest, clearly he'd been working out with his buddies at the Country Club doing him justice.

"Yes without me, Y/N!" Rafe gestured around with his hands then his chest. "Do you see his ass around here anywhere? Why do you care anyway, just go home."

"Relax, tough guy." You chuckled and came to the side, hands up in defense. "It's late, gonna' get even darker soon, you should probably get inside somewhere."

"I'm a big boy Y/N, I can take care of myself thanks."

"Maybe on Figure Eight, but out here..." You motioned around with a shake of your head. “There's six stray dogs three blocks from here, alone. Get in the truck." You motioned with your head, the soft music from the truck traveling just enough for you to know it was a song worth missing. "You want me to take you home?"

"That's the problem." Rafe sighed and bit his bottom lip.

"What is?"

"Fuck, you're nosy!" Rafe shouted, when you took a step back he rubbed at his smooth face, pointing to you then the darkening sky, then to himself. It's not like you two were ever considered friends, forced to partner up in class a handful of times, did a few shotguns at the Boneyard, maybe played a round of Cornhole but not friends. Especially knowing what he thought of Pogues in the first place, he was classist and his attitude spoke volumes.

"I don't... I don't have a home to go to. Not anymore. My dad kicked me out tonight, paid off what I owed Barry and... he just, he just fucking left me here! I have no way to get back to the Eight, it's fucking dark as shit, I'm cold." Rafe rattled on, emotional rollercoaster and it made you worried when you saw the tears in his eyes, he was lost. "I try, alright? I'm not the best son, yeah, I know that but I'm trying here. Trying to make my father proud, I'm out here fighting for my family and what does he do? Chucks me out like I don't matter. But I do matter Y/N, maybe not to you but I fucking matter and instead of cleaning up everyone else's messes, I wish someone would give me a little validation, a little 'Thank You Rafe'. Would it kill 'em, huh? I'm a very proactive type person you know? Just-- sometimes I wish someone would just ask me if I'm ok, ya' know?"

Rafe sniffled and wiped at his eyes before looking at you again, expelled of most of his energy Rafe bent over and hugged his knees. That was the most he's ever said to you and you felt bad, not sorry, per se, for the man before you. You just felt bad that he had a house full of people, siblings and friends and yet here he was out on The Cut breaking down and venting to a Pogue.

It made him seem less scary and boisterous, made him human.

With a sigh you closed the gap, not sure if you should touch him but you did, softly. Rafe slowly stood, blue eyes fixed on where your hand was on his cool shoulder.

"Rafe. Are you ok?"

Rafe swallowed his pride and pursed his lips and shook his head, dirty blonde strands sweeping across his brow. "No. No Y/N I am not ok, I am so not ok."

"You wanna' know what I think?"

"Sure. Shoot."

"I think you're fucking tired. No; more like fucking exhausted." Rafe looked somewhat relieved, you could see him working things out in his brain, squinting in the moonlight. You made up your mind as the words left your lips. "Alright, I'm taking you home."

"Home? Did you not hear a fucking thing I just said?! I just poured my heart out to you and--"

"Relax. I'm not taking you to your house; I'm taking you to mine." You announced, crossing the road to hop back into your truck, waving for Rafe to follow with fluid steps.

....

"Well, you've got three options Mr. Cameron. Anywhere on the floor is free, the couch which also turns into a full though it's a little lumpy so... or you can sleep on the right side."

Your house wasn't a mansion by any means, just a cozy one level you decorated over the years. Rafe clearly hadn't been this far on the OBX by the he was looking around like a tricked dog going to vet and not a car ride. He stood next to you, his height made him look like a giant inside your small angular living room.

He shoved his hands in his pockets again.

"The right side of what?"

"Of me."

Rafe choked and gave you a set of neatly furrowed brows.

"We're adults Rafe, we can sleep in the same bed."

"I know that I just... I haven't slept with anyone in a long time."

"That's shocking." You snorted and turned on another lamp, kicking off your boots and tossing your purse to an ottoman.

"Hey, thanks. But... why are you being nice to me?"

"Someone should," You shrugged and looked at him trying not to take up space as he looked around. "There's some pizza in the fridge if you want, figure out where you're gonna' sleep. I'm gonna' take a shower."

Rafe just nodded and continued perusing your things.

....

"He's where?!" Pope shouted, dropping his side of the cooler you were helping him carry into the back room of his dad's business.

"Calm down, it's just Rafe, not some psycho killer." You grunted and hefted up the heavy box, walking backward but making sure every ten feet or so you wouldn't trip and break something.

"Actually I'd feel better about some stranger being there than Rafe fucking Cameron in your house!"

"Language!" Heyward called out from the register, a pencil behind his ear when you passed by.

"Sorry, Pop. I'm serious though, get him out of there."

"He's not going anywhere. He doesn't even have a car, it's just for a few days I'm sure."

"A few days? Is your head on straight?," You held in your chuckle when Pope's voice cracked at his exclamation, his eyes narrowing. "This is Rafe Cameron we're talking about here, the biggest bully of every Pogue since he's been alive probably! And he's staying at your house, on The Cut... hell Y/N he even bullied you when you went to school with him!"

"I think he's misunderstood." It was true but that was how long ago now? You and Pope brought the cooler down gently and you dusted your hands off on the smooth apron you wore over your clothes.

"I think he's fucking crazy!"

"Pope, don't make me come back there!"

"Sorry." Pope apologized again with a sigh. Your friend touched your shoulder and pointed a finger at you as if he were the older of the pair. "If he tries anything..."

"Right. I'll be sure to let you know." You chuckled and finished unloading the latest shipment.

....

"Are you playing Jenga... by yourself?" You smiled, Rafe's big body was sitting on the floor of your living room, just pulling out a middle block when you got home. It was strange to see someone in your house after living alone for so long, let it be the Kook King himself. Rafe pushed back his hair, ready to make his next move.

"What else am I gonna' do?" Rafe rolled his eyes.

"I'm surprised you're not wasting your battery on your phone. Call up one of your buddies to take you instead of me."

You noticed how he worked his jaw and cracked his neck, placing the block to the top of the tower. "Got a little silly waiting to see if my dad would call so I turned it off. If he wanted me home, I would be."

"How long do you think you're gonna' hang around The Cut now that you're an honorary Pogue and all?"

"I'm not a Pogue." Rafe snapped.

"I wouldn't be so sure," You made a face and joined him on the floor, taking a block of your own before responding. "Let's see... you got in a blowout with a parent, check. Their giving you the silent treatment for emphasis of how much they stand by said statement, double check. You got kicked out of the house and all of your lovely amenities and are crashing on someone's couch, triple check. And by all those accounts, that definitely has Pogue written all over it!"

"Oh fuck off."

"You can stay as long as you need to, if you need a ride somewhere just ask."

You watched the block of choice slide out.

"I can drive, ya' know?"

"Yeah, your truck, not mine."

"I'm not gonna' total it! I need to get some clothes at least, I've never worn the same outfit two days in a row in my life. Gross."

"Oh shut up, live a little. You don't have to prove anything to me, Rafe. I know you." You said and took your turn.

Rafe's next words made you second guess the blonde.

"Nobody knows me."

....

"I don't understand why we waited until after midnight to come here." You voiced and parked your truck at the front of Tanny house, Rafe sighed and told you to be quiet.

"Because I don't want to see my dad, or any Cameron right now," Rafe huffed and pushed open the creaky passenger door. "I won't be long, just gonna' grab a few things alright? don't ditch me."

You watched him cut a short jog through the yard.

Tapping your fingers on the steering wheel you waited, why you didn't really know. The guy was home, Ward was probably over stewing about kicking out his only son. All you had to do was drive off but something about Rafe being sullen and human, a different version you got to witness was intriguing, a mystery. You didn't mind the company either, you reasoned. Especially handsome company.

With that smooth jaw and square chin, you remembered that odd zing, that scrape up your spine when you saw him sweet talking some naïve girl at the Boneyard. What was he saying to them to have them bat their lashes and gloss their lips, cock their heads and laugh with him. Or was he laughing at them? Too vulnerable to know they were in the clutches and paw of a serial predator.

Especially when they flirted over how much coke forty bucks could get them.

You were ripped from your memories when the door creaked open once more, Rafe had grabbed a red duffel bag and held it in his lap when he got back in. You snorted when you realized he had made himself a quick sandwich, holding it in his mouth.

To your surprise he offered the rest to you on your drive back over the bridge. ....

A few days turned into two weeks. It was strange how easily you two interacted, understood the silence, domesticated Rafe Cameron was something you thought didn't exist. Let alone picture.

He was the enemy for most of your life and here you were, watching the way his fingers moved and flexed while he rolled a joint. Stargazing in your little backyard. The lighter took a few tries before he lit it, inhaling the smoke with a satisfied smile before he passed it to you.

"Do you think I'm a bad person?" Rafe asked when half the joint was gone, making you sit up.

"Do you think you're a bad person?"

"I'm asking you." Rafe sniffed and took the joint from your hand.

"If you had asked me a few years I would've said you were the worst," Rafe snapped his head to you but shrugged, knowing it was true. He was an asshole. "But... I wouldn't let you stay with me if I thought you were."

Rafe clicked his teeth and took the last full drag, putting it out on a used pasta sauce lid. "Nobody wants me."

"What?"

"I haven't heard from my dad since I got here," Raffe shrugged again, holding onto his knees and digging the heels of his shoes into the ground. "He texted me once though, last Saturday, asking if I was safe. I tried calling Top and Kelce... said I couldn't stay with them either."

You frowned. "Do they know where you are?"

"They know but they don't care," Rafe smoothed back his hair with both hands and bit the inside of his cheek. "Maybe I'm as bad as everyone thinks. Might as well be the villain, somebody has to be."

You were unraveling the layers that made up Rafe Cameron without even knowing, all he really needed was someone to listen to him. To hear him out, to entertain his venting and let him clear his head. You wondered if he had any real friends at all, if they'd change the subject or ignore his feelings all together. Maybe that's why he wanted to stay with you, you saw him.

"I think you're crazy," Rafe snorted and gave you a look when you bumped your shoulder against his own. "You're not a bad man Rafe, you've got demons like everyone else. Let's not waste a good buzz so," you laid back on the grass, tucking your hands behind your head. "Now, show me which constellations you know."

Rafe chuckled, a genuine and foreign sound that felt like bells ringing. "I don't know any."

"Sure you do! Everyone knows at least two-- so show me."

"Alright alright." Rafe shook his head and laid down next to you. A light wash of his cologne puffed up around you that made your mouth water, or maybe you were just high. You smiled when he wiggled a little closer, crossing his ankles and pointing up to the night sky, clearly making up constellations as the night went on.

Another thing you'd never thought you would hear, or be anywhere near was his real laughter.

....

You balanced the grocery bags in your arms, not paying attention to anything other than not tripping, breaking any eggs or--

"Alright man, I'll catch ya' later!"

You looked up just in time to see Barry hop down your front steps after shutting the door.

"Barry?"

"Oh hey there lover," Barry chided and wiggled his fingers at you. "So it is true, then huh? You and Country Club shackin' up, playin' house and shit."

"It's not like that." You gripe and walk a little further, gripping the handles on a slipping bag.

"Not what I heard," Barry flashed a smile and wink that made you shake your head as he swing his keys around his fingers. "You two play nice now!"

"Fuck off." You said and hopped the night air brought your words to his ears as he chuckled and you went into your house.

You didn't see Rafe when you came in, kicking the door shut behind you and made your way into the kitchen. Your poor fingers were numb as you flexed them and looked around the kitchen. You were just about to call out to him when you heard Rafe instead. Sniffing; in your room.

"Just one more... one more and you'll be set. You'll be squared away, yeah? Be a man... be a man."

You just tapped the door with your foot and a jumbled mess that was Rafe Cameron jumped away from your dresser making it shake.

"Oh hey! You're home!" Rafe wiped his face and covered the line of coke on the old wood. "I was uh I was waiting for you."

"For what? Why are you in my room?"

Rafe looked around for a moment, touching his chest. That damn blue striped shirt of his that made his eyes glow, or maybe it was the coke he was doing. He seemed just as confused as you were to be in your space. Since he'd been 'shacking up', as Barry had said, Rafe had been a gentleman and crashed on the couch. A few nights he was face down, shirtless and shivering when you passed him to go to the bathroom, covering him up on your way back to your room.

"Um I wanted to talk to you."

"About letting Barry come over when I have no recollection of telling you you could just bring home strays." You crossed your arms over your chest.

"Barry isn't a stray, Y/N! God... I'm sorry sorry, he's ya' know. A friend. And I um, I needed said friends' advice so yeah. I invited him over, just for a little bit though," Rafe rushed out to say, gesturing with his hands, jittery.

"Whatever," you shrugged. "Just don't leave that shit around, I'm not judging you just... gimmie’ a heads up." You said and went to put away the groceries. "I'm gonna' talk to my dad." Rafe said from the door jam of the kitchen, biting at his nails.

"That's good, when?"

"I was thinking tonight actually um," Rafe bit at his lips before coming closer and putting a box of chips on top of the fridge for you. "I wanna' do it person so... would you mind like, giving me a ride later?"

You stopped and looked up at him, a questioning and honest smile on his face. "Sure. Just let me know when ok?"

"Ok... ok yeah. Thanks."

Then it happened.

The most bizarre and peculiar event of your entire life happened in an instant. Maybe it was genuine, a long time coming, some pining affection or honestly, the coke but... Rafe hugged you. Like a real hug, both of his long arms reached around your neck, his face inches from your own. The warm smell of his cologne a burst in your face, surrounding you like a cloud of intimacy. What seemed like forever you reached out and touched his back.

"Seriously, thank you.”

"Yeah. Sure..." You said in a daze, stepping back when Rafe took out his phone and hurriedly went to the living room.

"You sure you want me to come in?" You asked once the two of you pulled into the Tanny Hill drive, not out on the street as your previous visit.

"Yeah, why not?" Rafe shrugged and hopped out and gave you a look that told you to hurry. "I don't know how long this is gonna' take so."

"If you say so.”

Ward looked you up and down, a small smile behind his beard when you two walked in. A flash of light streaked through the night sky, a distant rumble in the distance. Rose got you something to drink.

"So you're the elusive Y/N then," Ward finally stuck out his hand, watching his son rub the back of his neck next to you. "Nice to meet you and thank you for taking care of my boy. So, I assume he's been bouncing around between friends this month, hmmm?"

"You didn't tell him?" You shot Rafe a glance.

"I um, Rafe's been staying with me... the whole month."

"The whole--" Ward scoffed and looked at his son. "Interesting. And he hasn't been any trouble?"

"I'm right here, dad." Rafe huffed.

"I know son, I just wanna' make sure you're not making trouble for this little lady here too. We'll talk in my office," Ward said and grabbed onto Rafe's shoulders, ushering him further into the estate leaving you behind with a glass on iced lemon water from Rose. "Thank you again Y/N."

"So," Rose sweetly smiled and walked through the downstairs living room, which was about the size of most of your house. "How was the monster?"

"Excuse me?"

"Rafe. That terror of a boy, I tell you Y/N it has been a blessing not having him torturing the house lately. I mean, he's mostly in his room but when he's not, oh God help me. Always slithering around, looking for Ward's constant approval is very exhausting."

"That's kind of rude."

Pieces to the puzzle were fitting together why Rafe was reluctant to come home, to be around people who didn't trust him as far as they could throw him. Maybe that's why he always acted out. Hurt people tended to hurt people.

"Please," Rose snorted and began to walk off. "He knows all this, I've told him several times."

Once she was out of sight you decided you didn't like this woman, and it would not be the end of the world if you never spoke to her again.

You jumped when a cracked of thunder boomed through the house, rattling the chandelier above your head in the hallway you had found yourself in. Looking at paintings and family photos, one was even an old fashioned portrait.

The water was long gone, just melting ice cubes at this point when the rain started to come in, pattering and streaking down the windows. You stood by one, watching the rain fall, little flashes of lightning bloomed above. A nice night.

You got lost in the steady rhythm building up outside, when a rather bright and far closer bolt of lightning struck near the house you caught Rafe's reflection in the window. He was quick to meet you there. He took your hand.

"Come with me."

"Where?"

"Just come on." Rafe smirked and led you up the winding staircase, you'd never seen so many in your life. How did they manage to get any kind of furniture up these things? You slipped but caught your step, holding on to Rafe's arm. There was another flight of stairs up above it seemed when you stopped on a landing.

"Rafe, what's going on?" You asked once secure and hidden in his room. "What happened?"

"Dad said as long as I keep my nose clean and work hard, he'll let me come home," Rafe smiled and wiped his mouth with both hands. "I'm gonna' do it this time. I have to," Rafe tapped his head then turned to you, placing his heavy hands on your shoulders. "He said he's proud of me. That I've been on a good path since you found me. I'm gonna' get my shit together. For real this time."

"Rafe, you don't have to explain yourself to me."

"I know that, I know. I just... you've been there for for whatever reason, that's on you," Rafe joked and roped you into another embrace, resting his cheek on the crown of your head. "You get me. You saw me, the real Rafe and you didn't run for the fucking hills. Most people don't."

"Well you are an asshole."

There was a brief second where you wondered if saying that was such a good idea but then you felt him laugh through you.

"True. I'm not the nicest guy, unless you're around I guess."

"I'll take the compliment."

It felt strange but a good strange, squeezing him around the waist when a loud crack of thunder sounded again, signally you should maybe take off before it gets too bad to see. Hydroplaning was not on your To-Do list today.

"Well I'm glad it worked out, you were a pretty decent roommate." Rafe let you go but stayed still in front of you. "I should probably head out."

"Why?"

You frowned and looked at the window, pointing to it. "Cause it's raining, have you looked outside?"

"Yeah I know it's raining, pretty hard actually so why are you trying to leave?"

"Do you... do you want me to stay?"

"Yeah, that's kinda' why I brought you up here." Rafe scoffed. "And to give you this."

If you would've have been told senior year Y/N that some kicked-rock-down-the-street years later you would be in Rafe Cameron's room on a rainy night, in his arms and kissing him; you would've backhanded them on sight.

But, as things played out, that's exactly when happened. You knew you were in big trouble the minute Rafe held your head in his hands, blinking down his nose at you it made your stomach flip. You opened your mouth to say something, anything at this point but all that came out was a whine when he kissed you.

You grabbed on to his arms, your poor knees from working so hard and climbing all those steps, threatened to give way if you didn't. Rafe didn't stop, catching you and holding you up and flush against him.

....

"You're so nice, so fucking nice to me ya' know that?" Rafe breathed into the soft, bare skin of your neck. You ran your hands up and down his back, feeling him tense and tremble against you sitting in his lap.

"Someone has to be."

Rafe paused and grabbed the back of your neck, bringing you back to nose level. "You said that before."

You smiled and cupped his face, he nuzzled into it. "You're so touch starved, aren't you?"

"Us Cameron's aren't big on affection." Rafe admitted and wiggled beneath you, he was straining against the seam of his boxers, you could feel his cock engorging and growing hot. You weren't fairing any better, you knew if you moved them aside your slick would be glistening.

"That's a shame but that means," you hunched over and whispered into his ear. "I get to be real good to you. I'll touch you anyway you want, however you want me too baby, you got it."

Rafe groaned and stole a sloppy, teeth clicking kiss. You smiled against his mouth, moving up to your knees quickly and peeled down your panties, adding them to the pile.

Rafe's thighs were ticklish, spreading his long legs almost cost you a black eye! He apologized but let you rub your hands up and down his skin, giving them each a squeeze, your eyes focused on his cock. The outline alone had you salivating, it jumped when you kissed his hip, taking a fresh bite of the meat you found there.

Rafe fisted his sheets, clenching his teeth he kept his eyes on you, boring into your swift movements, voicing how good it felt. He whined when you finally put your mouth on him, a sound of relief when you wrapped your hand around what didn't fit, the rest disappearing into your mouth.

You'd had reactions of course, you know what you were doing but the way Rafe made it sound was he was in heaven.

"Fuck that's so God damn good, so pretty like that. Fuck." Rafe groaned when you swallowed him further, his stomach muscles tightening when you dragged up your free hand, nails gently scratching his too warm chest. You clenched your walls around nothing as he caught your wrist, gave it a slight tug and soon you were feeling the inside of his mouth on your fingertips.

You gagged, on purpose a long line of spit joining your mouth to his cock, you had to see what he looked like. Eyes shut, both hands now gripped your wrist while he savored having your fingers in his mouth. His mouth pleased around them, he looked content. Happy.

You kissed the crown of his cock and moved to lay on your side, resting a leg over his hip. He looked so dreamy, long lashes and blown out blue eyes, he pulled your fingers from his mouth and sat up on his elbow.

"You're a total smoke show." Rafe praised and grabbed your hip before you pulled him over to you for a kiss.

"Finger me." You whined and bit your lip, watching a true grin morph on his face. He gave you a nod that spoke of 'you got it' as he spread your lips. Those long fingers of his had you quickly covering your mouth, they reached new heights and depths you hadn't felt touched before. He liked that and wedged in a third finger, you rolled you eyes feeling the cool metal of his ring meet the hood of your clit every other thrust.

"How's that, pretty thing? That feels so fucking good when you squeeze my fingers like that."

"Dammit Rafe," your walls instantly gripped them, "I'm gonna' cum if you keep that up."

"That's kinda' the point," Rafe snickered and moved to kiss you, hovering just out of reach. He backed up just out in time for your lips to miss. You groaned. "Don't worry baby, I've got you. I'm gonna' make you cum more than one time tonight, I can tell you that."

You grabbed the back your leg, his fingers thrusting at a different angle that had you seeing spots, you couldn't shut your eyes though, the view was too perfect to miss. Rafe finally kissed you then, could feel you pulsating around his thick fingers.

You felt it, that riptide of satisfaction coming into view, you cupped the back of his head, making sure he didn't tease you again with the threat of a kiss as you came, moaning his name as a chant. The aftershocks threw you off, good God was he good at that. You let your leg drop as you caught your breath.

"You're gonna' kill me." You said in between breaths, shivering with a passing rumble of thunder.

Rafe chuckled against your cheek. "Would it be too much to ask to fuck you?"

This time you laughed. "Oh baby, you're not gonna' fuck me," you patted his cheek and rolled him over, beaming when he instantly put his hands on your thighs. "I'm gonna' fuck you."

In a rush Rafe pointed to the bedside table, rummaging in the drawer for a condom, thankfully you found it and tore it open. As you sat up on your knees, watching Rafe roll it out and onto himself, you looped an arm around his neck, scratching the fine hairs on the back of his head. He shuddered when you did it again.

You brought him to you, both of you in a sitting position before you wiggled and rolled and angled your body down to take his cock. Rafe had a creased brow and open mouth, flipping between watching your pleasure and where his cock was disappearing inside you.

"Holy fuck!"

You clapped a hand over his mouth and shushed him. "Calm down."

His mouth was moving and tickling your palm so you moved it away momentarily. "What?"

"I said I can't help it, jeez baby you just took all that cock like a fucking champ." Rafe held you close to his chest, bare and hot and sweaty. There was no place you'd rather be, you held his face to your neck and you knew he'd leave a bite or two if you let him. "Fuck me, baby."

"You want it?" You smoothed back his hair as you ground yourself against him. "Tell me you want it."

"I want it, want it so fucking bad. I want you so fucking bad, driving me fucking crazy here. Could fuck all day." Rafe raggedly said against your throat.

"I'm all yours."

....

His hand on your throat felt dangerous and comforting as he fucked up into you, foreheads resting and moving together in tandem, both of you a total mess for each other.

"Rafe..."

"I don't want to lose you. You see me, you know me. I want this, I want you." Rafe struggled, giving your neck another squeeze his hips bucking up.

"You said... fuck baby that's so fucking good-- you said no one-"

"Fuck what I said! You know me, the real me. Stay, please stay. I'll be good I swear." Rafe whined when licked into his mouth, capturing that pouty bottom lip that was ranking higher and higher of your favorite things list.

"I'll stay."

Rafe was full of surprises as he slipped a hand between you, using the pad of his thumb he pressed and circled your clit and bit into the side of your tit.

"I'm gonna' cum!"

"Cum for me, I need it I need it I need..." You yelped, losing yourself and your voice.

....

"I've never fucked like that before." Rafe admitted when you got out of the bathroom, thankful that he had his own. You laughed pulling on the shirt you'd helped him out of from the floor and got back into bed.

"And you won't," you laughed into his shoulder.

"I'm pretty sure no one fucks like you and I don't wanna' find out," he settled down and cupped your head in the crook of his elbow. Musing to himself and now to you. "I'll be good, from now on I'm straight. I'm gonna' do it this time."

"I'm with you."

Rafe craned his neck a little at the same time as you tilted your head for a sleepy kiss, the storm fading fast. "So you'll stay?"

"I'll stay."

Tagging: @cherienymphe @synnersaint @hoebx @starkeyobx @outerbankspov @cockslutpadalecki @poguesarerogues @valeriiecameron

#enjoy bbs #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe imagine #rafe cameron obx #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fanfiction #obx imagine #obx fic #obx fanfic #obx fanfication #we should really come up with a name for this #i love him

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milfswriter · 1 year

Note

Is there a chance you could write some Rhea Ripley comfort because I am depresso. 😮

Maybe where they are married or sum and r comes home after a long day and Rhea just takes care of us cause we all need some loving?? I live for your writing

Ty love ♥️

Exhaustion

Rhea Ripley x Reader

Summary: Rhea is your safe place

You were exhausted, the stress took a toll on your whole body you could barely drive home. Your job kept taking and taking to the point that you were burned out by the time you came home. You knew Demi noticed because she's been distancing herself, too. She knew you needed space and that it would pass.

You unlocked the front door to your and Rhea's house, stepping in and closing the door behind you with a soft thud before leaning against the door, your forehead resting against the hard material.

"Hey, babe" Rhea's voice was low like she knew your head was pounding at that moment. You turned to face her, sighing at how soft she looked and feeling a bit guilty for shutting her out the past few days.

She held a small towel in her hands to dry them so you deduced she was doing the dishes. She threw the towel somewhere behind her before she walked to you with a small smile.

"hmm" you offered your wife the biggest smile you could muster, your vision cloudy with exhaustion.

"Missed you, today" she wrapped her arms around you with a kiss on your cheek, loosening her hold when she didn't feel you reciprocate the hug. "me too"

"What's wrong?" she stepped back a few paces, looking you up and down nervously.

"I feel like shit.." you admitted, rubbing your eyes lazily. She gave you a 'yeah, no shit' look that made you let out a chuckle, the biggest reaction she's gotten from you in a week.

She took your hand in hers, pulling your hand to the living room where you found the pets laying on the couch. You sat next to barry who started barking as soon as you did, causing rhea to yell from the kitchen.

"Barry! stop it, mommy's tired!" he stopped barking, but you felt bad so you gave him a pat on the head before Rhea came to sit next to you, placing two plates of dinner in front of you.

You gave her cheek a kiss in thanks as she wrapped an arm around your shoulder, holding you close as you ate the pasta she made. She isn't the best cook, but she tries for you.

You were watching whatever was playing on TV when Rhea came down the stairs. Frankly, you didn't even notice her leaving your side.

She took the plate from you and took it to the kitchen, you followed her to at least try and convince her to let you do the last few dishes. She's been cleaning the house all day even though it's her day off, you felt immensely guilty.

"What are you doing here?" she let out a chuckle, "ah, nope..you're not doing anything" she blocked the path to the sink with her taller frame, crossing her arms in front of you.

"babe, please?. you've been here all day doing everything when you should be resting" she wouldn't budge, even the puppy eyes that never failed did right then.

"let's leave 'em here, eh? do them later?" she cupped your face, kissing the pout a few times until it turned into a grin you couldn't hold back.

Wrapping your limbs around her, she picked you up effortlessly and took you upstairs where you heard the bath running. "get in there, alright? I'll be back with your pajamas".

You gave her a hard kiss in thanks before taking your clothes off and getting into the bath, the water perfectly warm against your skin. You sighed, closing your eyes and before you know it, you dozed off.

It was a beautiful dream, a hand engulfed yours as you walked on the beach. You turned to see your wife already looking at you with a smile. "you're beautiful" she mumbled, "ever told ya that?"

"a few thousand times" you nodded, a chuckle erupting from your chest causing her to roll her eyes.

"not nearly enough" she leaned to peck your temple but this time it felt a little too real.

You watched as Rhea faded away with the wind alongside the beach before opening your eyes with a gasp, Rhea's lips were still on your temple as she pushed your hair out of your face.

"you had to ruin the dream, didn't you?" you whined, sitting up to face her properly.

"What was it about?" she laughed, feeling absolutely no remorse. she couldn't let you sleep in the bloody bathtub, could she?.

"You..at a beach" you shrugged, seeing her soft smile as she brought a towel and helped you stand up.

"Well," she kissed your pulse point, wrapping the towel around you. "the real thing's here"

-------

As you put on your pajamas, you saw Rhea's equally tired frame as she waited for you to join her in bed. You switched the lights off, crawling to her as she opened her arms for you.

"C'mere, love" she husked out, covering you with the thick duvet and wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you buried your head into her chest. It was perfect, having Rhea there for you whenever you felt like collapsing.

"Babe?" she whispered, an automatic hum was given in return. "beach date tomorrow?"

Taglist:

@dementedtrashcat @obsessedwithwwewomen @ara-a-bird @jungwoospeach @yourmisosoup @cameronsdruthers

#rhea ripley x reader #rhea ripley wwe #rhea ripley #demi bennett x reader #demi bennett

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 9 months

Text

Bateman Begins Part 40

Previous Part | Masterlist | Next Part Notes: Slightly shorter chapter this time around, soz 🦇🖤 Pairing: Nathan Bateman x Reader Rating: M Warnings: None, tbh

"Do you miss him?"

It's a loaded question, and asked without any teasing.

You avoid Barry's eyes, reaching out and nabbing a few fries from his plate. You practically stuff them into your mouth to keep from answering.

He tips his head to the side, giving you a knowing look. You take your drink up next, taking a deep sip and swallowing thickly before offering, "Did I mention it's nice to see you?"

Barry scoffs a laugh, brows raising as he breathes, "Wow!"

"Shut up," You mutter, sliding down in your seat.

The diner is busier than you've seen it, and busier than you expected it to be. Then again, with Christmas closing in in Metropolis, maybe people have come to visit family, or are there to spend their vacation.

The diner is one of your absolute favorite places that you've frequented in the year and a half that you've lived in Metropolis.

The booths are comfy, they don't make farting noises when you shuffle in and out of them, the food is fricking delicious, and not pricey.

But, in the time that you've been in Metropolis, you haven't been able to banish Nathan from your mind.

Oh, you've tried.

You have spent nights wide awake, trying to forget the way Nathan teased you.

The way he held you, and kissed you.

On the worst nights, you're jolted awake by the dizzying nightmares of that night in the Narrows, what you'd been certain were Nathan's cries for help before you'd been attacked on the roof.

But you've adjusted to being in Metropolis, and being alone.

"...How is he?" You ask lightly.

"Depends on who you ask," Barry shrugs. "Giselle's invited me to a couple of events, we've kinda made eye contact, but we haven't talked. Giselle said he's been doing a lot of press....And it seems to be taking it out of him."

Good.

It bubbles up in behind your lips, and you force it down with another sip of your drink.

"What even happened between you two?" Barry asks, folding his arms on the table.

You sigh softly, shaking your head a little.

"We just...We hit some roadblocks. There was some stuff we couldn't get past."

"Stuff like Vicki Vale?"

"No, not that—I mean yeah, that, but not just that. I think her being around made me realize that he and I just had a lot of differences, things that we just couldn't...Fix."

"You tell Nathan that?"

"...Not in so many words." You clear your throat, waving Barry off. "Anyway. That's passed, it's over, it's...Let's talk about something else! Is there anything that you wanna do over the next few days?"

"Hey, you're the transplant, you tell me."

You mimic him, abruptly stopping as the waitress comes by with the check. You reach for it, but Barry waves you off, warning, "Ah ah. Lemme get dinner since you're letting me crash at yours."

"And because it's dead-cheap?"

"And because it's dead-cheap," Barry grins, reaching for his wallet.

"So, apart from work, which you spend way too much time at, by the way," Barry adds, hip-checking you as you walk down the block toward your apartment, "How are you finding Metropolis?"

"Uh...Fine," You shrug. "It's like any other city, I guess, you know. Busy streets, tons of traffic, overpriced coffee. Nothing I can't handle."

"And, uh...The crime?"

"It could be worse. Trust me—I know worse." You're quiet for a moment, eyeing the pavement. "I've had a couple of visits."

"From Nathan?"

"Lex Luthor."

You glance toward Barry, then look away again quickly when you see his stunned expression.

"What did Lex Luthor want with you?"

"He was just being a dick, you know. Asking why I didn't come to work for him when I moved."

"Why didn't you?"

Because Nathan would've hated it.

"Because I would've hated it."

Barry leans against the door frame, watching as you fish into your pocket for your front door key.

"You been seeing anyone?" He prods. You frown, glancing toward him.

"What's that got to do with Lex Luthor?"

"Nothing. I'm just curious."

"...No," You shrug. "I've been busy."

Glancing up at Barry again, you find him with his brows raised, head tipped forward in disbelief.

"What?" You laugh.

"Nothing," He reaches out, turning the knob of the unlocked door. "Just trying to figure out why you're still loyal to the man that you left."

He leaves you on your doorstep, gob-smacked and shivering.

It stops you dead in your tracks on the way to work. You take a few steps back, squinting at the newspaper in the stand.

Maybe it seems scandalous to the average reader, but you know better, and it has to be a mistake.

Batman takes Prince of Gotham Hostage

How the hell could Nathan take himself hostage?

It's got to be a rumor, or a misprint, or—

Or something?

You pick the paper up, fishing into your pocket for cash and passing it over. You can't take your eyes off of the newspaper as you walk, nearly wandering into traffic a time or two, walking into no less than three streetlights.

You don't have the chance to really dig into it until you reach your office. You shrug your jacket and bag off before you plop into your office chair and finally flip to page two.

According to eyewitness reports, Bateman was last seen at a lavish party. He disappeared around 8:15 on Monday evening, claiming that he needed to speak with the party's coordinator. After nearly an hour without the host, and unable to find him in his cavernous mansion, attendants called 911. Police said that their investigation into the matter took a shocking turn when they caught sight of the vigilante known as Batman escaping through a side window. There have been no further signs of Bateman, and while the investigation is ongoing, police suspect the worst.

You lean back in your seat, lowering the paper as the wheels spin in your head.

Monday. Monday was nearly six days ago. How were you only just hearing about it?

You reach into your pocket, fumbling with your phone and drawing it out with shaking hands.

It has to be a stunt, right? Some kind of ruse?

Something must have gone wrong, or sideways.

Maybe Nathan had gotten a tip about some crime, and had thought he could just leave the party for a little while. Maybe he was caught coming back in the suit and had to hide.

Maybe he's just laying low.

He'll come back with some wild, funny story, something to shut the press up.

You open your contacts, scrolling through to Nathan's. You tap on it without hesitation, raising the phone to your ear.

His voice, you just need to hear his voice and you'll know that everything is okay—

"I'm sorry; the number you have reached is not in service, or temporarily disconnected."

You lower the phone, your heart pounding in your chest.

No. No, this can't be happening, this can't be right.

Something is very, very wrong.

"I just think this is a little rash," Barry warns, but he makes no move to stop you as you dart back and forth from your dresser to where your suitcase is open on your bed.

"I know what I'm doing, Barry."

"Do you? Quitting your job to go back to Gotham because Batman kidnapped Nathan?"

"It isn't—" You go quiet, pressing your lips into a thin, tight line and drawing a deep breath in through your nose. You trust Barry, but you can't tell him the truth, not like this. "I know this seems insane, but this just doesn't feel right."

"What do you think you're going to get by going back?" Barry asks. "You've got nowhere to stay, no job, no plan."

"I have a plan," You swear, "And that plan is to find Nathan."

"The cops can't even find Nathan."

"They don't know him like I do."

You kneel up on your bed, cramming your clothing into the suitcase as hard as you can. There's no way you're going to get it to shut—

You go still as Barry reaches out, taking up a bulky sweater and folding it properly before he reaches for the next item of clothing.

"Let me do this," He sighs resignedly, "Go check to see if your flight has anymore seats. I'm coming back with you."

Your heart soars, and you grin, rounding the bed and throwing your arms around Barry, pecking his cheek between your mutters of, "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"Alright, alright," He chuckles, waving you off, "Go."

You hurry into the living room, opening your laptop.

You frown as you hear what sounds like a rustling of wind, and glance toward your room.

"Barry? Did you open the window?"

"...A little!"

"Why?"

"Fresh air helps me pack!"

You shake your head, muttering, "Little weirdo," Before you take your laptop off of the counter, walking back toward your bedroom. "So there are a couple of seats available, but they're not to—..." You slow, brow furrowing as you spot your now neatly-packed suitcase. "—Gether...Uh. How the fuck did you do that?"

"I was in, uh...Speed-packing competitions when I was a kid?"

"Is that a thing?"

"...In Central City, yeah."

You eye him for a moment, his bright, smiling face and raised brows.

...Something doesn't feel right about that, either, but one thing at a time.

"O...Kay. Anyway, as I was saying, there are a few seats available but none together."

"That's fine, book 'em," Barry shrugs. "Whatever gets us back fastest."

"Done and done."

Tag list: Tag list: @blueeyesatnight ; @revolution-starter ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @foxilayde @danniburgh ; @carbonated-beverage ; @brandyllyn ; @missredherring ; @the-feckless-wonder ; @ew-erin ; @recklessworry ; @xocalliexo ; @youngkenobilove ; @chattychell ; @lorecraft ; @thembosapphicclown ; @emotionalsupportbatfamily ; @buckybarneshairpullingkink

#Nathan Bateman x Reader #Nathan Bateman x You #Nathan Bateman/Reader #Nathan Bateman/You #Nathan Bateman fic #Nathan Bateman imagine #Bateman Begins

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