#this format is so fun! do you guys prefer tiny text or normal tho?
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You creep carefully into Rafe’s bedroom, pushing the already-open door gently with your palm. Your eyes dart around, worried he’s going to be just around the corner, but you’re greeted with nothing—just the empty space that belongs to Rafe.
How exactly did you get yourself into this? It had started a few hours ago—at least that’s what you thought. You didn’t have any clue what Sarah and her new friends were up to, you were just over for a pre-planned girls night that was dismissed the second you walked into Tannyhill. Instead, Sarah asks for a favor, one that you deny almost immediately.
“You’ll be in and out, it won’t take more than a minute-”
“I am not sneaking into Rafe’s room for you, Sarah. What if he-he catches me? Finds me in there? What am I gonna say?”
“He’s not gonna be home later, I promise. It’ll be a second, and he’s always liked you most out of all my friends so he won’t even care-”
Your face flushes at the very sentence. Her brother, Rafe, the one that you’ve only interacted with on chance occasions, the one who makes your heartbeat speed up anytime he’s in the vicinity, that very Rafe, has always liked you?
You’re too caught up in that thought and its implications to even question Sarah anymore. Her new friends—Pogue friends, ones that you don’t know and aren’t sure how long they’ve known her—linger by the door. They seem eager to make sure that you agree.
You’re being moved around the board like a chess piece but you can’t find it in yourself to care. It’s shallow, you know, as one thought circulates through your mind, body, and bloodstream—Rafe has always liked you.
A hazy, dreamy mist settles over you. You agree to Sarah, feeling increasingly stupid as you settle into the living room and keep your eyes on the television. She left with her friends, and when Rafe comes down, you’re supposed to tell him you’re waiting for his sister. Once he leaves, you need to sneak into his bedroom to find a map they seem to desperately need. One of the boys suggests it’ll be in his sock drawer.
“It’s not a porn magazine, JJ, why would it be there-”
“Oh, um, I don’t know, just that it’s the number one male hiding spot-”
“What studies are you basing this off of?”
"A little thing called the study of life, Pope-”
You had interrupted them yourself, reassuring that you’ll look in his dresser and his desk.
But now, walking into Rafe’s bedroom, you're losing all your nerve. You’ve thought about this before—you’d be lying to yourself to deny it. Any girl who has a best friend with a cute older brother has too. In the summers you sleep at Tannyhill more often than your own house, but you still could have never imagined this would be the reason you’re in Rafe’s room for the first time.
The house is silent, just like Sarah had told you. Mr. and Mrs. Cameron out at the country club, Wheezie at the beach, Sarah supposedly with you but actually with those Pogues. She says Rafe is gone too, driving around somewhere with his friends, and you believe her without a second thought.
But you do have a second thought, and it's the fact that this is so beyond wrong.
Looking through Rafe’s belongings with your eyes, your hands start to tremble at the idea of touching something of his without his permission. You want to swallow your nerves to do this for your friend, but you hesitate, hands hovering over the drawer to his dresser.
For a second, you want to puke, worried that you’ll open this drawer to find porn magazines like John B had said, or worse—photos of one of his girls that you really don’t want to see.
Your shaking hands pull open the top-most drawer, but everything calms down once it’s open. Besides for white socks and plaid boxers, there’s nothing in there. Your shoulders relax, your knees feeling weak.
Then you wonder for a second—why were you so worried about finding evidence of some other girl in his bedroom? Your mind spins briefly, worried at how attached you really are to Sarah’s brother, someone who’s never spoken to you more than a handful of times. A million thoughts run through your brain, all of them about Rafe and none of them noticing the way his bedroom door has just opened wide.
“Looking for something?” The timber of Rafe’s voice hits your ears and you freeze, probably looking like something out of a cartoon, shoulders tense, eyes wide. You’re still facing his dresser, and you really, really don’t want to turn, but you do, and then you wish you hadn’t.
Rafe’s dripping wet—damp hair sticking to his forehead, a towel around his waist and droplets of water glittering on his abs. He’s looking at you like he never has before. Your eyes are focused on everything else—the bare skin of his chest, his huge arms, the blue color of his towel.
“My eyes are up here, kid.”
Like a deer caught in headlights, you turn your gaze up to lock eyes. You’re terrified—he has to be angry, no, furious. You’re practically a stranger to him, a stranger invading his privacy. But when you finally take in his expression, it’s not angry. He looks amused, a smirk playing at his lips while he takes you in, standing before him like a child about to be reprimanded for touching something that doesn’t belong to them.
“I-I…” you trail off, swallowing hard, still staring at Rafe.
“You, you?” he mocks. You think you’re going to start crying but no tears well up—yet. “What’re you looking for?” he asks it seriously, his tone shifting.
You’ve never spoken to Rafe enough to notice, but he’s incredibly domineering. You shrink just from his gaze, while he closes the door and walks closer to you.
“Um, I-” You stop yourself short.
“Looking for trouble, huh?” He says it like it’s a joke, but you know he’s not kidding. Your head shakes, trying to convince him you’re not, but it’s not much use.
He’s not very far from you now, maybe another foot and you could smell the scent of his soap, another few inches and you could feel the heat radiating off of his bare body.
You realize how you must look right now, wearing a tiny dress because of the heat outside but now feeling goosebumps prick along your arms. Your bare feet rest on his carpet while your hands feel clammy from how scared you are.
“I, uh, I needed socks.” You look down at your feet and he does too, looking back up at the same time.
“Socks? From me?”
“Couldn’t find Sarah’s. She needs to do laundry.”
“So you came in here to get mine?”
“I-I’ll bring them back. Washed. Promise.” Your gaze is now dying to avoid his, looking all around his room and then turning back to the drawer to take out a pair.
You feel a wet hand on your arm, turning you back around at full force, his balled up socks falling from your hand as you stare Rafe in the eyes. He must be able to tell from the way your body shakes in his grip, how your eyelids are fluttering fast, how scared you are.
“Don’t lie to me, kid. I won’t like it.” You suck in a sharp breath. A few moments pass.
“I’m not lying, Rafe. Promise.”
You actually don’t know it happens—ending up with his towel on the floor and your sundress right next to it, tangled up in the sheets, your body folded in half with Rafe pounding into you. He grips your cheeks and fucks you like you’re his, like he owns your pussy and every other part of you. It goes on for so long you lose track, forgetting everything else but how to say Rafe’s name, remembering nothing but how he sounded groaning into your ear. He kisses you, hard and wet, and that’s when you cum for the third—fourth? fifth? you’ve lost track—time. He cums too—inside you, and normally you think you’d maybe have an issue with that, but since you were the one begging for it, you don’t think you’re allowed to say anything in the way of a complaint.
Rafe rolls off of you a little bit later, after you’ve had a chance to catch your breath. You think he’s gonna tell you to get out so you try to get up yourself, trying to balance on trembling legs, when he puts his hand on your waist and steadies you back onto the bed.
“What’d you need? You should sit.” You look up at him, surprised. He doesn’t like it. “Water?” You nod, and he pulls on some sweatpants and forgoes a shirt, walking out and closing the door softly behind him.
You get comfortable under Rafe’s sheets, pulling them up to cover yourself and body sinking into his bed. You reach out to find your phone, which has somehow ended up on the nightstand even though you don’t recall putting it there. There’s a few new messages.
Sarah: Did you go in yet?
Sarah: I think he left, go now!!
Then one from thirty minutes after that.
Sarah: Did you find it?? Call me!!
You reply quickly, setting the phone down when you hear Rafe’s hand on the doorknob.
Sorry, didn’t find anything. Had to go, I’ll see you tomorrow.
#this format is so fun! do you guys prefer tiny text or normal tho?#i hope everyone likes this one! i wrote it quick#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader
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