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voidpetrova · 3 months

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settle the score — rafe cameron x reader

☄. *. ⋆ content warning(s) & genre: swearing, miscommunication trope, slowburn, alcohol consumption, pining, playing hard-to-get, suggestive content, violence depicted — drama, slow romance

˚♡ ｡˚ synopsis: blood is thicker than water, but the heart wants what it wants. you're a routledge, he'a a cameron, but just because it made sense for your brother and sarah, doesn't mean it'll make sense for you and rafe.

✧.*

life in the outer banks was a delicate dance between the sun and the storms, where secrets washed ashore with the tide, and alliances shifted like the sand beneath your feet. in that coastal chaos, friendships were tested, love was found in unexpected places, and every wave brought a new twist to the story of your lives. paradise on earth, that's what it was.

“history test,” your voice clashed with the peaceful silence that had filled the chateau. you had already made your bed, hours ago. pulling your skirt and tucking it into your uniform, you made a final lap around your home, shaking your brother awake for school. “both of you need to get up, like, yesterday.”

a moan of defeat passed john b's lips as he tossed and turned, as if still drunk. jj, who had been asleep on the couch, was now stirring awake, eyes fluttering open. “good morning to you too, momma.” you rolled your eyes as you bent down, continuously shaking your blood and flesh awake. the previous night had come crashing down faster than any other night—more alcohol, more running, more throwing up. now, you were all running late despite nearing the end of your semester. “okay, shit, i hear you,” john b exclaimed, running a hand through his messy hair.

when you had woken up, the house was a total wreck. it was made a mess, and it was gonna be left a mess. you rolled your eyes as you shot jj a warning look, as if to say, “he's your problem now,” but he wasn't. no matter how protective john b was over you, you were always gonna be his older sister. you played your role all too well, especially once the child welfare agency had paid you a visit—two days after you turned eighteen, which was just a few weeks ago. the minute you could, you signed to be your brother's legal guardian. he could punch all the men in the world for so much as looking at you the wrong way, but you would always be the real protector.

in the twinkie, you spent a minute or so enjoying the silence the morning had to offer. you admired the way the sun's rays shined against the sea, the way the birds chirped in harmony. the silence was beautifully deafening, but terribly short-lived. “shotgun!” you winced at jj's yelling, wondering how he sustained so much energy so early in the morning. with no hesitation, he pulled the door open and tumbled into the seat next to you, offering a wink. “my sister's driving, that's so not fair,” john b huffed as he sat in the back defeatedly.

“can we not do this at seven in the morning?” you practically begged, feeling the headache closing in on you. “nah, gotta get in the mood for today,” jj retorted as he stretched, as if prepping to run a marathon. “i got kicking topper's ass on today's checklist.”

the growing, extensive tension between the two tribes had come to be an exhausting occurence. you didn't mind a lot of kooks, actually. kiara was a kook, but it didn't stop her from being your best friend. she was one of the most down-to-earth people on the island—you had assumed it was a façade before meeting her. sarah cameron wasn't all so terrible, either. you didn't like her the first time she came around, didn't trust her, but you've grown closer over time. you had no positive opinion regarding topper, knowing you and jj had convinced pope to sink his boat for a good reason, even taking a beating from his friends for your brother. he wasn't the worst of them all, though. your main issue was with sarah's older brother.

rafe cameron, who was just a year above you, was truly the cause of all your problems. you tried not to pay him any mind, not in school, not out of school. you so badly wanted to make it seem like he didn't exist, you couldn't resort to violence. you had a reputation to uphold and a brother to take care of, it wasn't worth the risk. he had something directly against you, you knew it. he spent most of his time taunting you, insulting you, cornering you. out of all pogues, it seemed that his issue was with you.

you tried not to pay any mind to it, especially not while you were driving. “no causing shit today, am i clear?” you shot jj a look, earning two hands, rising in defense. “no need to worry, ma, we'll be good.” you met your brother's eyes in the rearview mirror, the worry on your face evident. he tried to make it up to you with a comforting smile, but you weren't buying it.

union academy had a traditional coastal charm. it featured classic architecture with a touch of maritime influence, reflecting the coastal setting around it. the school grounds included a mix of green spaces and typical educational facilities, creating a backdrop that captured the essence of a so-called, safe environment. it would've been safer with a few electricity-prone gates separating the two tribes, but there was no going down that road. if you ignored the hell waiting to break loose, it was a beautiful school.

you stepped out of the twinkie, making sure to lock it once the two boys had stepped out. “hey,” you turned around as john b called out to you. “i promise we won't start any shit today. we'll walk away.” you nodded, despite the disbelief that swelled in your chest. “i trust you, jb. just be careful for me.” he didn't have to respond, pulling you in for a hug. you were all he had, and he was all you had. if it meant you'd be happy, he could resist his urges for a day or so.

once he had departed, you brushed your skirt down and adjusted your hair with a sigh. the school's field was huge, littered with kids who could only either look at you with disgust, or with lust. some of them, despite the disgust they felt, knew they'd do you sober. not even after a cheap beer, just stone cold sober. they also knew it'd be best to keep it to themselves, judging by the way your brother glared at them, almost as if he knew. you ignored it. you tried too, at least. despite all of it, you knew you had lucked out just before reaching the school's main doors.

“can't ignore us forever, princess,” every nerve in your body told you to turn the other cheek, to keep going and continue your streak. “very rude, very pogue-like.”

you didn't want to feed anybody's ego, but you couldn't stop yourself from turning around. to nobody's surprise, you ended up locking eyes with rafe, a smirk painted on his lips. topper stared at the floor, avoiding eye contact due to his past previous encounters with your brother. “ever get bored of it, rafe?” you snapped, a bored look playing on youe features as he towered over you. “put your money where your mouth is and get yourself a new plaything.”

so ready to end the conversation, you broke the eye contact, but rafe had other intentions. “heard you've screwed every kook in the area,” he practically snarled. “seems like you know a lot about money and mouths.” there was no way for you to exit now, and you had passed the point of being nice a while back.

“i must've been taking lessons from your sister,” now, you had the attention of both boys. “you know, the one who gets her back blown out by my brother every other night.”

rafe didn't care about his sister, he cared about his reputation, his status. that's why he was quicker to step into your face, before topper could get the chance to defend his ex-girlfriend. “i wonder what big daddy john would have to say about his daddy handing pussy out to everyone,” you weren't a slut by any means. shit, you've done it once, with someone whom you loved and trusted, and you were sure it wouldn't see the light of day. you were wrong, but didn't care much about it. no one really said anything about it, except rafe. every chance he got. “may as well let us take you for a spin, routledge.”

walk away, all you had to do was walk away. you needed to be the bigger person, you needed to set an example. you needed to think. shit, you've been doing it for as long as you could remember, why was now any different? the people that surrounded the three of you only added to the pressure you were under, but you knew you couldn't fight it. he had hit every spot there was to hit, and you knew he'd hang it over your head for the rest of the week.

your fist had collided with his face faster than you had anticipated. it had happened in a split second, and all you could see was red. you hadn't even noticed how you tucked your fingers in skillfully, let alone how hard the hit truly was. rafe's head fell back as he stumbled, practically falling onto the floor. he didn't have time to collect himself, not while your head had blocked out, not only the way the crowd screamed in approval, but your thoughts. you weren't thinking, not while you had dropped down, sinking onto his lower body, wrapping your hands around his throat. you applied pressure, more than enough to shut him up for good. his eyes widened as he wheezed, his hands tapping at your arms vigorously.

“let him go, holy shit,” topper tried to pull you off, only leading to further thrashing that pushed him back. you continued, your eyes boring into rafe's and, for a second only, you swore the darkness had disappeared. you had no time to read what he was feeling, not while another pair of arms met your waist, pulling you off. rafe gasped for air, fingertips tracing his throat as he coughed.

you thrashed aggressively, your vision blurry as you practically begged to be let go. none of the consequences mattered in that moment. once you had turned around, still thrashing, you were met with jj, who was doing his best to contain you. “sorry, cupcake. just doing what you're brother asked me to.” you yelped as he practically threw you over his shoulder. he turned around, and you had, once again, met rafe's refreshingly dark glare.

“yeah, get the slut out of here,” he practically spat, and it didn't take long for the trigger to click. “try not to fuck her again while you're at it.”

you turned against jj's shoulders, watching the way his breathing deepened. “don't do it, jayj. don't you do it.” there always came a point where you wondered why you even tried, and this was one of those times. you knew that once your body had fallen onto the floor with a thud, exhaling a sigh of defeat as you rolled your eyes.

the principal's office wasn't exactly a foreign place for you, but that didn't necessarily mean all of your experiences were negative. the same couldn't be said for your current one. you knew you had made a mistake the minute it was all over with. you were sat in between rafe and jj, directly across the principal's seat as you waited for his arrival.

you toyed with your fingers impatiently, practically in touch with the way rafe stared at you from the side. for a second, you met his eyes, regret clounding your vision because you knew what was waiting for you. “tell your boyfriend to get you a leash,” he hissed, but you didn't say anything. you didn't have to. “you better watch it, asshole,” jj finally snapped, standing on his feet once more. he was nothing of the sort to you, rafe knew it. everyone did.

“you best take your seat, mister maybank,” boomed the voice of your principal as he walked into the office. he shut the door behind him as he took his seat, along with jj. “you all really love making issues out of nothing, don't you?”

rafe scoffed, “i wouldn't really call assault nothing.” the side of his face you had struck was bruised, along with his throat. jj hadn't done much damage, due to the principal and secretary's appearances mid-situation. he shrugged, “what'd you do to provoke her, mister cameron?” rafe ignored the question, tongue wetting his lip as he laughed dryly.

finally, the principal re-directed his attention, eyes scanning the bruised littered across the knuckles on your right hand. “as for you, miss routledge—you've really done it this time,” once again, for what felt like the hundredth time, you could feel rafe's eyes on you. “school grounds, miss routledge. assault. you'll be faced with suspension. if mister cameron decides to press charges, expulsion. your brother, and i hate to bring this up, will be taken from your care, and best believe that child protective services will get him in no time.”

rafe's expression softened at the principal's words, something you had failed to notice as you stared at the principal in shock. “this ain't right, this isn't fucking fair—” jj was cut off almost immediately. “mister maybank, please,” you couldn't believe it. it was exactly what you had been warning john b and jj about. not to start any fights, not to cause any trouble. everything was at stake, your family was at stake. “it's a handful, isn't it, miss routledge? school, working a job, being a full-time guardian. unfortunately, this is out of my hands.” silence, it was all you could respond with.

rafe analyzed you with watchful eyes, too focused on you to take jj's glare into consideration. he felt for you, for your situation. he had no idea you had taken on such responsibilities. “i'm not gonna press charges,” he announced, finally. jj's glare had settled as the three of you looked at him in shock. “what? let the whole world know she beat my ass?” you remained quiet, while his eyes remained on you.

“very well, then,” the principal cleared his throat. “a three-day suspension seems adequate, no?”

it was just like rafe to watch out for nobody but himself, his status. his reputation. it was how he chose to be perceived. he wasn't gonna go around pressing charges, adding fuel to your already blazing fire. not anytime soon, anyway. just like how he wasn't gonna let anyone know that he was pulling away for your sake. you couldn't look him in the eye, even while leaving the office.

“are you really his guardian?” he leaned against the wall that surrounded the empry hallway. you hesitated with your answer, “of course i am, i'm all he has. he's all i have,” you tucked your bottom lip between your teeth. “thanks for not pressing charges, i'm sorry about everything.” he chuckled as you gestured toward the bruise on his jaw.

“it's not exactly like i didn't deserve it,” in that moment, he watched you openly. this time, you were aware of it. perhaps, in that very moment, he didn't see you as a pogue. he saw you as a girl. a very pretty one, at that. “some right hook you've got, take lessons?” it was the nicest thing he's said to you, really. you opened your mouth, ready to respond, and your smile didn't go unnoticed. unfortunately, you never got to finish.

“get the fuck away from her.” in a second, your brother was pulling you away from him, standing in your place, now face-to-face with him.

with a huff, you revived the distance between them as you stepped in front of rafe. “leave him be, jb. he's not pressing charges, it's my fault.” your brother's eyes finally locked onto yours, “after begging us not to start any shit, you go after rafe?” he had a point, you had done the complete opposite of what you'd begged them.

“i apologized, just listen to me,” you begged. “rafe was nice enough not to press charges, that's all there is to it.”

he nodded in agreement, “no pogue is worth my time,” the asshole you had grown used to had made another appearance, yet you couldn't help but wonder where the side you had just met had wandered off to. “especially her.” you held onto john b's wrist, squeezing as if begging him silently to stay quiet.

when he had dragged you away, he forgot to drag your backpack away with him. by the time rafe had realized you had left it behind, slouching on the floor next to his foot, you were long gone. he sighed, rolling his eyes as he tossed it over his shoulder, groaning at the unimaginable weight of it. “so that's how she does it, huh?” he couldn't help but smile at the thought. quickly, he made a mental note to stop by the chateau and drop your bag by the same night.

“i can't believe i forgot my shit,” back at the chateau, you were panicking. john b had gone out with the others, leaving you and jj back at the house. “he's gonna burn it, i just know it.” jj sat on the sofa as you paced around the room, offering you a freshly-cracked open beer. “you really need to calm down, he's not gonna do shit after that blow.”

you rolled your eyes at the remark, but finally stopped in your tracks as you stared out the window. the night was black, the only light illuminating the outside and inside world being the light coming from your living room light. “don't know why he hates me so much,” you let out a sigh as you stared into your own reflection in the window. as you did so, you watched jj walk up to you, his front pressing into your backside, arms wrapping around your waist as he pulled you in.

“only 'cause you're everything he's not,” you sighed as your heartbeat finally began to settle, your body melting against jj's touch. “'cause you won't let him hit, that too.” everything you and jj had was purely physical, and you kept the pogue-on-pogue macking a secret. you had hooked up once, which was made known, and it didn't end well. it was the point where rafe had begun to openly hate you, and the point john b had to be held down by three of his companions from killing his best friend.

he pushed your hair to the side as you tilted your head, allowing him all the access he needed as his lips latched onto your neck. “jayj,” you whimpered, eyes fluttering shut as he placed sweet, feather-like kisses down your neck, going as far as the angle allowed him. “john b's gonna be here soon, anyone could see us.”

it was like talking to a wall. he hummed, uncaring, as he brought one of his hands up to your breasts, clothed by nothing but a sheer tank top. he gave one a gentle squeeze while he brought his other hand down to your short, pulling them down with ease. he turned you around to face him, towering over you as his hungry eyes bore holes into yours. “you really want me to stop?” he didn't even have to ask, he already knew the answer. you shook your head. “then, take that top off for me, cupcake.”

from the inside, there was no one that could see you, let alone stop you. from the outside, as the light illuminated your figure, anyone could, but not just anyone did. rafe had come by, as he had promised himself, with your backpack slung over his shoulder. only, he really wished he hadn't. he didn't know what to feel as he stood in front of the window of the chateau, the bright lights having caught his attention.

it felt wrong to watch, and he took no pleasure in it. he watched the way jj had you, the way your face scrunched with pleasure while he touched you. by the time it had grown to be too much to watch, he peeled his eyes off the sight, tossing your bag onto the ground as hard as he could. “motherfucker,” he practically shouted, kicking the bag onto the porch, heel digging into one of the pouches. it was the last thing he did before storming off.

the following day, you had woken up to the sound of explicit shouts. it wasn't anything out of the ordinary, but it was still a cause for concern. thankfully, you had woken up in the comfort of your own bed, fully clothed, despite last night's lingering activities and upcoming headache. your eyes fluttered open as kiara and pope rushed into your room. “you really gotta see this,” kie's tone was filled with worry, a slight edge to it as you forced yourself to become conscious. your hair was a mess, top on backwards, but you still obliged.

john b and jj stood on the front porch of the chateau. at first, you couldn't see anything, hands aggressively rubbing your eyes as the sun kept your vision at a minimum. once you had a clearer view, you knew you were fully awake, eyes widening at the sight. “holy shit,” you gasped out, wanting to come closer, but jj stuck his arm out, preventing you from going any further.

the entire yard had been trashed. the hammock had been littered with scattered books and loose papers, alongside the boat, the driveway, the steps. all trashed and stained with school items. one of the window's covers had been torn off, along with the generator's latch next to the door. the bushes planted alongside the perimeter—all trashed, as if somebody had stomped on

“do we even have to ask who did this?” pope inquired, watching the way your hand came over your mouth. “of course not,” kiara responded, taking a few steps of her own. “but what's with all the books and shit?” you had come to a realization of your own as you pushed past jj's grip, walking towards what you believed was the source of your issues, laying flat on the ground.

you had recognized the backpack the minute you were called out to the porch. despite it being black and plain, with perhaps a few details of white stitching and patterns, the tag on the side gave it away. “P4L,” it almost made you smile, really, but it was no situation to smile about. you knew exactly who had done it, and you didn't plan on wasting any time.

the cries and shouts of your friends, begging for you to stick around and handle it with them, followed you as you ran. you couldn't have taken the twinkie; it, too, had been practically pissed all over by rafe cameron. so, you ran. you ran as fast as your legs could carry you, and you didn't stop. not even when their pleads began to falter.

the figure eight was the paradise's paradise. the part of the island rich folk loved to step over in order to piss all over the cut's population. while you worked two jobs, their people owned two houses. it was a way to reassure everybody that there would always be balance, whether you liked it or not. by the time you had gotten there, you could practically feel the shift in the atmosphere.

playing golf was one of rafe's favorite activities, alongside drinking, snorting lines, and apperantly, vandalizing. you were out of breath as you watched him from a safe distance, hybrid golf club in his grip as he swung it back carefully, his concentration glued to nothing but the miniature ball on the tee in the grass. if you had been in the right mind, you would've definitely had a more thought-out, synchronized plan, but you were running on a few hours of sleep, panting like a dog, watching rafe cameron's smug, smug smirk as his club hit the ball with a smack. there was nothing thought-out, nor synchronized, about what you were doing.

he hadn't heard any of it, nor had he seen it coming. you ran towards him as fast as you could, despite the lack of oxygen in your lungs. he hadn't noticed a thing until your bodies finally collided, as you tackler him onto the ground. his club was tossed to the side, the ball flying into the distance as you sat on him, a groan of pain passing his lips as his eyes opened, but he had no chance to react.

“vandalizing my fucking house? isn't that a bit too pogue for your taste?” you practically spat at him, knees pressed around his waist as you held his arms down. “what the fuck is your problem, cameron?” he struggled against your touch, a growing stern look in his eyes as he grunted, grabbing onto your wrists and pushing you onto the grass. despite the fight you put up, he was the one on top of you now.

“went to give your bag back,” he began explaining, grip tightening the more you struggled. “how do you thank me? by giving me a clear view of the klepto tearing you a new one? really?” you didn't know when you had stopped struggling. all you knew was that you had found yourself staring into the kook's eyes, heart softening as you caught your breath. you hadn't noticed how blue his eyes really were up until that point.

for a while, it was quiet. awkwardness filled the air as your position didn't change, but his grip loosened. “how much did you see?” you murmured softly. as his grip loosened, so did his anger. so did yours. he found himself peeling his body off yours, using a hand to pull you up and sit you next to him. “more than i wanted to, thanks.” his tone was colder than anticipated.

you couldn't wrap your mind around the fact that he was bugged—enough to turn your front yard into a crime scene. “what's it to you, rafe?” he didn't answer, it wasn't helping you get anywhere anytime soon. “it's just sex between you and maybank, isn't it?” hesitantly, you answered with a nod. you couldn't believe you were actually discussing your sex life with rafe cameron. “yeah, i figured. all the guys in the world that'd show you the world, and you go for the guy that can only show you his bedroom.”

a scoff passed your lips as you took definite offense, it was as if he was calling you out for decisions that had nothing to do with him. “go fuck yourself, cameron,” you began to stand up, brushing away the loose grass off yours knees, but rafe didn't budge. “you ever been to corolla?” you stopped on your tracks, looking back at rafe, who had his eyes glued to the field in front of him. “meet me back here at eight, tonight.”

the nerve he had was absolutely unbelievable. once again, you found yourself scoffing at the pogue. “and why the hell would i do that?” this time, he was the one turning around, peeling his eyes off the scenery before him. “because,” he smirked. “i dropped the charges, you owe me.”

relief was all you could feel once you had come back to an empty house. the mess was still more than present, but no one was there. a sigh of relief passed your lips as you pushed past the unlocked door, back sliding down the wall as you buried your face in your knees. all you could do was think.

why was rafe cameron so concerned about you and your love life? why was he so keen on meeting you tonight? why were you so comfortably going along with his bullshit? your head cocked to the side as your phone buzzed, a message reaching you from an unknown number.

NO CALLER ID: don't be late 2night

wear smthn nice

- rafe

you rolled your eyes at the unnecessary signature. “signing his own damn message,” you muttered under your breath in disbelief. it was such a rafe thing to do, you couldn't help but smile.

with the door locked, despite the ongoing presence of the mess made in your yard, you had the entire chateau to yourself. the time you had to yourself was usually spent on doing the dishes, cooking, cleaning the house, hanging the clothes out to dry, taking care of the others. rare occurences such as the one at hand were an easy way to fix up your mood.

rarely did you ever get to focus on yourself. grateful for the hot water in the boiler, you treated yourself to a hot shower. thanking god for electricity, you let an old fan try your hair instead of the usual sunray routine. with freshly painted nails and newly dried hair, you allowed yourself the freedom of a new makeup routine. you knew your brother would flip if he saw you, so you made sure to hurry. you couldn't deal being interrogated, especially if it meant having to lie to him and your friends.

so, you kept your cool. you admired yourself, for the first time in a long time, you looked like yourself. not a tired, over-worked pogue, but a diamond, one that had been hiding in the rust. your hair was clean, wavy, with no more traces of sea salt. your nails were clean, trimmed, freshly-painted with a new coat. your figure was wrapped by a yellow sundress, admiring every curve of your figure, the color embracing your tan lines. the makeup, though subtle at the first glance, was your finest work of all. you made sure the coast was clear before slipping into your heels and onto your bike, into the settling dusk.

the island seemed different once nighttime rolled around. it was as if the ongoing sequence of fights, tension and bloodshed finally came to a halt. it was a temporary halt, but a halt of some sort, nonetheless. as you passed by trees and markets that had been closed for the day, you found yourself once again wandering back to rafe cameron. the possibility of him being a decent human being, with a heart, always found its way back to you.

the tannyhill plantation was one of the island's most beautiful manors. the first thing you had noticed while hopping off your bike, was that all of the lights had been shut off. all of them, except for the one in rafe's room. you shot a puzzled look at your phone, seeing as you hadn't received a single new message from him. hesitant to approach the front door, afraid of any sort of backlash, you found yourself frozen in your place.

your eyes remained glued to the white fence surrounding the villa, along with the balcony that led to rafe's illuminated room. for a while, you found yourself in a trance, eyes stuck on the way the lights flickered. shit, they flickered for a long while, before going completely still. your heart softened once he came into your view, you could see him walking towards you, but never noticing you. he had his eyes on his tie, fingers fiddling with the fabric as he tightened it. at first glance, it seemed as if he was finishing up in order to reach a certain level of presentabilituly for you. his hair was neat, pulled back with loose strands garnishing his forehead. it you hadn't been harboring so much hatred the past few years, you'd be drooling by then.

you watched him with careful eyes, gaze locked on his figure and you prayed that he'd notice you soon enough. for a split second, he turned around, a smile forming on his face as he did so. you furrowed your eyebrows, attempting to follow his gaze, to see what had caught his attention all of a sudden. there was no need for that. you found yourself frozen in your tracks as the picture came into place for you, bike falling to your side as you stared in shock.

you couldn't make out the woman that came up from behind him, the one dressed in a pink robe with her wet, brown bangs plastered to her forehead. all you knew was that she was a half-naked female with a glass of wine in her hand, wrapping herself around rafe as she pressed a kiss to his cheek. you watched him smile as he pulled her in, but you didn't miss the way he looked back at you. he looked back, eyes locking with yours for only a split second, as if he was telling you, “tied, we're tied.”

the entire trip back was rushed. you had given up the minute you realized you had given in. speeding away on your bicycle, you cursed at yourself for trusting him the way you did, ignoring the way your phone buzzed in the pocket of your sundress. your vision was blurry as you sped past the same scenery you had passed an hour ago, vigorously rubbing the tears away, smearing the make-up you had spent hours perfecting.

“no no no, fuck,” you whispered under your breath as you stopped the bike, heels digging into the ground as you pulled up into the yard. the lights were on, door unlocked, much unlike how you had left the house. you gulped, throat thick with tears and worry as you tried to make your way up the stairs as quietly as possible. if anyone were to catch you, you knew you'd be hit with hell's worth of questions.

whether it was jj inside, your brother, anyone. the result would've been the same. you sniffled, as quiet as ever, pulling the doorknob open as you peeled your heels off, careful to avoid any clicking noises. the living room was empty, the only noise being your heart pounding in your chest. the coast was clear, from what it seemed like.

“where the hell've you been?” froze. you froze in your tracks, for what may as well have been the tenth time that day. heels in one hand, handbag in the other, you carefully turned to the source of the sound. as you did so, you found your brother leaning against the wooden walls, his face stern as he analyzed you. “out,” you tried to play it off as cool as possible, letting your shoes drop to the floor. he scoffed, “out? yet here you are, crying, your make-up melting,” you found yourself avoiding his gaze once again, flinching at your younger brother's harsh tone. “i'm not asking again, where were you? where'd you go, (y/n)?”

all he wanted was to know you were alright, that you were okay. it's what encouraged his episodes, where he found himself screaming at you one day, worried sick, and apologizing the morning after. “i've had a long night, john b,” you finally snapped, watching the way his expression faltered. “we can talk about it tomorrow.” as hot-headed as he was, he knew you were the more stubborn one. with a huff, he retreated, kicking his legs over the couch. you ditched your handbag and shoes as you stormed off, making sure you slammed your door shut as you did so.

NO CALLER ID: didn't feel good, did it?

you see what i was talking abt??

the least u could do is answer

i overdid it i'm sorry

routledge come on i didn't mean to go so far

please answer

pick up ur phone don't get me worried

you failed to notice the way your phone lit up with messages, the screen lighting up with a buzz each time you had received a new notification from rafe. mainly because you had ditched your phone a while ago, leaving it to buzz above and beyond on the surface of the living room table. what you had so desperately failed to consider was who had complete access to those messages, an entrance to your situation.

john b clutched your phone, allowing it to vibrate, allowing the messages to come in at a fixed pace. his eyes were blank as he read every single text you had received, listening to the muffled sobs from the other side of the door. you were completely unaware, having forgotten that having a little brother meant having a nosy companion, at best. his expression hadn't planned on faltering, not until the last few messages rolled in.

NO CALLER ID: please meet me tomorrow

by the docks

i have to tell u smthn in person

- rafe

unlike his previous fits of rage, john b felt as if it was different this time. instead of punching the walls around him, instead of calling up jj in order to break into the camerons' villa with extra protection, he turned the phone off. a sense of peace struck him from the inside, as if he had an epiphany right then and there. as the sound of stiffled crying filled his ears, he felt himself falling back onto the couch. he wasn't stressed, nor was he scared. he allowed a silent rage to consume him, this time. because, he had a plan, and as far as he was concerned, rafe didn't know that he knew. a smile graced his lips as his eyes fluttered shut, knowing that the upper hand would be his.

from the comfort of your own room, you found yourself staring back at your tear-stained pillow. the make-up you had carefully touched up was evident on nothing but your pillowcase. you sniffled, bringing a hand up to wipe away your excess tears as you allowed yourself a moment of peace. the moment of peace and quiet you had spent with your head tucked in your knees was short-lived, if anything.

the sound of a KTM supermoto being revved up had a very specific sound, and a very loud one, at that. you jolted in your spot on the bed as the sound of a running engine filled your ears, as if was right next to your head. with the overflowing curiosity in place, you pressed your ear to the thin wall behind your head, scared to make any sudden movements, in case of potential threats.

“(y/n), i know you're in there,” the all-too familiarity of the voice pounded in your ears as your heart skipped a beat. you gulped, a shiver trailing down your spine. “come out here, i wanna apologize.”

the first few minutes you had spent ignoring his pleas, you remained focused on the light in your room you had forgotten to turn off. it seemed like all the lights in the world were your greatest foes as you cursed yourself for forgetting. the entire house was pitch black, except for your room, and it was too late for you to go back. your focus shifted the minute you heard a harsh sound next to your head, as if rafe had started throwing rocks at your window. it was what pushed you past your breaking point, knowing john b could wake up at any second.

“what do you want, rafe?” you were breathless after pulling your window open, staring at the tall boy just feet away from your window. he frowned as he took a few steps forward, “wanna talk to you, please.” if you weren't in the biggest state of disbelief you'd ever been in, you would've assumed he was being genuine.

“post-nut must've hit hard if you wanna talk to me,” you spat, a humorless laugh following. he studied the way black, tear-slick streaks trailed down your cheeks, the way your dress looked as if a cow had chewed on it. even during your worst hour, you were a knockout. “we didn't fuck, dammit,” he snapped back, inhaling deeply as he tried to keep his cool. “sofia and i didn't fuck, i just needed you to feel how i felt that night.”

none of it made any sense to you, absolutely none of it. you scoffed, “i don't fucking get you, rafe.” you watched the way his eyes lightened as he sighed, taking the last few steps needed to look you in the eyes. he was inches away, still able to tower above you despite being outside. “i don't understand, either,” he admitted. “i don't understand why you make me feel the way i do, or why seeing you with him makes me angry. i wanna understand, but i don't.”

was it a confession? a semi-confession, maybe. you wanted to scream, you wanted to cry. to close your window shut, drop the blinds, and hide under your bed. not specifically from rafe, but from the thoughts that consumed you. if you didn't relate to his words, why did you run? why did you cry all the way home? why did you feel as if someone had ripped your heart out of your chest? “i know you feel it, too, (y/n).” he didn't have to say anything, you knew he was right.

“you gotta be quiet, rafe,” your voice was barely above a whisper. his face was just inches away from yours, and you could feel the way your breathing elevates. now, you could really see how blue his eyes were. blue and bright. “john b's asleep. if he hears us, it's over.” you wondered if you had seen a more genuine smile on his face than in that moment. it wasn't a smug smirk, or a taunting laugh. just a smile.

“yeah, i can do that,” his voice matched your tone perfectly, “i can be quiet for you.”

you hadn't exactly been counting on it happening so fast, but you didn't budge when he closed the distance between your faces. inches away only minutes prior, he had finally pressed his lips to yours. you felt your breath hitch, eyes widening as you tensed up at the foreign sensation. it was supposed to feel wrong, it was supposed to make you scream, curse him out for coming near you, anything of the sort. the exact opposite had taken place. once you had relaxed, your eyes fluttered shut, lips moving to match his movement.

when he had pulled away, his face was flushed, “tell me this means you forgive me,” the plea had left his mouth before he could stop himself, alongside the nod you had been fighting back. you had just kissed rafe cameron. “meet me by the dock in the morning, around nine, is that okay?” you found yourself taking in every single word that he sounded out, agreeing with nothing but a simple nod. he smiled at how you went along, despite the evident shock on your face, before departing once more. not before placing a kiss onto your forehead.

you made sure to shut the window the second he had driven off again, determined to be as quiet as possible. once you had done so, you felt yourself falling onto your bed once more. it felt as if you had swallowed your heart, like it was thumping excessively in your stomach. you didn't know what you were feeling—relief, if anything. relief, knowing he truly didn't have it in him to touch another girl. at least, not in fronr of you. you couldn't help but wonder why you felt so relieved, next to millions of other things, why did the thought of him with her bug you so much?

the thought itself consumed you to the point of no return as your eyes fluttered, mind going hazy as you thought of his last words. by the dock, at nine o'clock in the morning. you were so focused on his words that you failed to recognize the breathing behind your door. the breathing of the same person who had been listening the entire time. perhaps, that would be tomorrow's problem.

tomorrow's problem came faster than anticipated. at precisely eight o'clock in the morning, john b woke up, and for the first time in a long time, he woke up without the usual dread he carried on his shoulders. no, this time, he woke up with a smile on his face. if anything, he was motivated.

he had pushed past your door, careful not to make any sudden sounds as he entered, a sigh of relief passing his lips once he saw that you were still asleep. for a while, he found himself staring at you. his big sister, you were all he had, and he couldn't stand the thought of losing you. especially not to someone like rafe. with one last look, he shut the door, promising himself that he wouldn't let it come to that.

by the time you had woken up, it was thirty minutes past eight o'clock, and your brother was long gone. your eyes fluttered open, heart fluttering as the realization dawned upon you. in thirty minutes, you would be face-to-face with rafe once again. your brother's disappearance didn't mean much to you—you figured he was out with the others, like he usually was. the eerily extended period of zen you were feeling all came crashing down once you stepped into the living room.

your eyes trailed toward your phone, placed face-down on the living room table. the edges glimmered with light, letting you know that your phone had not only been moved, but unlocked and accessed. your suspicions came to life as you turned it around, your breath hitching at the sight of rafe's messages on the screen, opened and read. it was no coincidence, you knew your brother too well for it to be one.

in due time, your suspicions would've proved right. rafe had been waiting by the dock, as he had promised you the previous night. he would never admit how nervous he was feeling, pulling his phone out and checking for your responses, only to be met with the fact that you had read and ignored them. he found himself biting him nails, pacing around the flooring out in the open as he searched for a sign that you'd come.

“expecting someone?” he didn't fear the familiar voice, but it was definitely unexpected. as he turned around, he pressed his eyes shut, a feeling of annoyance gnawing away at his patience. once he turned around, he was met with john b, an empty expression on his face. “not who you were expecting, i'm sure.”

rafe scoffed as he took a step forward, “where the hell is she, john b?” your brother took the following step, closing more than enough distance between them to earn a few stares. “you've got no business talking to my sister, that's all i'm gonna tell you,” he snarled. he had no idea, had no clue about anything regarding the situation. rafe didn't know what to say, he had nothing left to use against him.

“maybank's been screwing your sister,” the bomb that had dropped in that moment wasn't apart of rafe's plan. it was his back-up plan, fueled by pure jealousy and nothing more. “you're worried about the wrong guy, routledge.”

despite the closeness between the two men, john b felt his look soften at the newly-obtained information. for a second, a split second, he felt himself calm down, as if he had realized he was up the wrong guy's ass. then again, why wouldn't rafe lie to save himself? a cameron, a kook. it was in his nature to double-cross. when he had convinced himself that rafe was lying, what followed next was inevitable.

rafe allowed his head to fall back as he stumbled, the feeling of john b's fist colliding with the underside of his chin. as he fell back, he watched john b approach him with heavy steps, a crowd beginning to form around the two of them. “here's a message from my sister,” he crouched, meeting rafe at an eye-to-eye level. “whatever it is you're feeling, she wants nothing to do with it.”

despite the hit he had just endured, what he was listening to then and there seemed to have pained him more. for a second, he didn't consider it. he saw the look in your eyes the previous night, a look that matched what he felt perfectly. the consideration lasted a split second, before he remembered, you were a pogue. at the end of the day, you were a pogue.

by the time you were ready to leave your house, the sound of your door opening and closing rang in your ears. you had been taking your time, wanting to look approachable for the conversation you had been waiting for the entire night. for a second, you could breathe normally once more. if that was john b back so soon, it could only mean not much damage could've been done. you held onto the possibility as you left the bathroom, rushing to the hallway, where he stood silently.

the first thing you noticed was how his knuckles were littered with bruises, only a few, but it was enough to cause you to panic. “what the hell did you do?” he silenced the end of your question with the raise of his hand, and you knew it was serious. “just answer one thing,” he paused. “did you fuck jj?”

you didn't even have time to consider the fear coursing through yours veins. betrayed, you felt betrayed. rafe had gone and stabbed you in the back, using the secret you had trusted him with against you. not just with anybody, but with your younger brother. “that's nobody's business, jb.” his hand collided with the wall, causing you to jolt as you took a step back. “you can both go to hell,” he sneered, pushing past you as he entered the living room. you called out for him, wanting nothing more than to explain yourself, but it was no use. “give my condolences to rafe.”

it wasn't the need to explain yourself that led you to the camerons' villa, but rather the urge to rip his head off and finish the job—the lingering empty void that had formed after seeing the lack of messages from him. something was wrong, but you didn't know what it was. surely, he wasn't angry at you. not for something your brother had done entirely on his own.

from the inside of his dark room, rafe felt his blood boil. betrayal, he felt betrayed. he had truly believed you were different, seeing as you had awoken something in him. something that led him to levels of jealousy and hard work he didn't even know existed. he couldn't believe it, he saw the look in your eyes that night. there was no way anybody could feign it. the thoughts that engulfed him sent him down a spiral of insanity, a yell bouncing off the walls as he threw his phone onto the floor, letting the material crack beneath his feet.

you couldn't have been bothered to wait under his balcony again, instead running towards the main entrance. before you could knock, a familiar face popped out from the side, as if she had been counting on your arrival. “thank god you're here,” sarah exclaimed as she pulled you in for a hug. though puzzled, you hugged her back. “he's been acting like a dick all day, he won't talk to anyone.” you deemed it strange, how sarah knew that you were the person rafe needed to talk to.

“what makes you think i can do shit about it?” you questioned, but the input, as if silly, only earned you a giggle. “come on, you're not dense,” she continued to laugh as she unlocked the door, pushing it open. “you should hear how he talks about you when he isn't pretending ti hate you, it's priceless.” you were barely given a chance to react as sarah ushered you into the house, showing you exactly which way to go.

up the stairs you went, leaving her behind as you followed the light onto the second floor. sarah's room was open, a familiarity to it despite having only seen it twice in your life. wheezie's room was next to it, with rafe's room right across, on the other side of the hall. the only room with the door shut tight. as you approached it, you began to severely doubt yourself. sarah was supposed to know best, but she wasn't exactly close to her brother. despite how hesitant you were, you still found yourself knocking.

the sweet sound of silence followed shortly after, only encouraging you to knock again. this time, you allowed your voice to pierce the quiet. “rafe, please let me in,” silence. sweet silence. “it's (y/n), please open the door.” the silence that followed was abruptly cut by the presence on the other side, the door finally creaking open.

you stood there, frail in comparison, as rafe stood in front of you. his eyes, though dark at first, lightened at the sight of you. in comparison, you felt your eyes widen, hands involuntarily reaching out to inspect the harsh bruise on his chin. he flinched at your touch, but didn't protest. “john b,” you exhaled, regretting thinking your brother wasn't capable of much damage. “he did this, didn't he?” rafe didn't offer much of an answer, almost embarrassed as he opened the door, stepping aside to let you in.

you stepped into the room, eyes wandering as rafe closed the door. it was your first time seeing his room. much like the rest of the villa, it was gorgeous. spacious, modern. rafe sat on the bed, right across from the spot you stood on. “thanks for telling my brother all about my sexcapades,” was the first thing you couldn't stop from tumbling out of your mouth. “i trusted you, rafe. i trusted you, and you still went behind my back.”

once again, he found himself on his feet, “you wanna talk about trust, really?” he ignored the puzzled look on your face. “let's talk about how you sent your brother to cave my face in and tell me that you don't want shit to do with me. yet, here you are, for whatever fuckin' reason. what the hell do you want from me?”

his words flew past your head like daggers, each one finding a new and improved way to leave their mark on you. you couldn't express your confusion well enough, “sent my brother? rafe, you can't possibly be serious.” he was quick to cut you off, pacing around his room as he ran ha hand through his hair. “sent your fucking brother, just like he told me. said he was delivering a message from you.” your eyes dropped at the sight of his phone on the floor, shattered completely.

you didn't know what to say. you were aware of how protective your brother was, everybody knew it as much as you did, but there were lines that shouldn't have been crossed. you found yourself walking up to rafe as he circled his footsteps, grabbing a hold of his wrists in order to get his attention. “rafe, i swear to god,” you paused, locking eyes with him. “i didn't send john b after you, i didn't tell him anything. i told you to stay quiet last night because i didn't want him to hear, jesus.”

you weren't sure at first, but rafe had finally settled despite the disbelief still present, “you really expect me to believe he found everything out on his own?” with a huff, you let go of his wrists as you dropped to the floor, back sliding down the wall as you went through all of the possibilities.

“my phone was in the living room with him,” you admitted. “he was the one reading your messages, not me. that's how he got there before i could, and came back before i could leave. told me you told him jj and i had sex, and that's it.”

rafe had finally calmed down, more than he had expected. amidst the silence, he found himself dropping down across from you. his heart began to beat at a steady pace, the realization finally settling—you were telling the truth, the entire time. he felt awful for doubting you the way he did. “i'm sorry for telling him about you and maybank,” your head shot up at his words. getting an apology from him was the last thing on your bucket list. “i was jealous, shit. didn't think he'd blow up the way he did. he mad at you?”

you nodded almost immediately, unable to hold your laughter back as you recalled his short fuse. “yeah,” you looked back at rafe. “seems like you got the shorter end of the stick, though.”

his bruise had turned into a pale shade of purple, decorated with bits of red and blue. when you had touched him this time, he didn't flinch. his eyes fluttered shut as you caressed the bruise with your thumb, watching for any reactions to the pain. “i'll be okay,” he assured you, but it didn't stop you. “it'll go away in a few days.”

for a while, you sat in silence. it wasn't the awkward kind, but rather the pleasant kind. during the entire time, you found yourself melting more and more into his touch, allowing him to pull you into his embrace for the first time. the right way. your hand never left his bruise, gentle strokes gracing his chin. “where do we go from here?” it was your question that broke the silence, and rafe looked at you softly. he admired the way you fit in his arms perfectly, the way your chest moved up and down as you made yourself comfortable against his touch.

“i like you,” was all he could muster up in that moment. “can't stand the way maybank had you. he took what i've been praying for all these years.” the confession, though touching, couldn't help but make you smile. “must be why you've been such a dick all this time,” he nodded in agreement, and it really had you thinking.

the silence frightened him, making his heart skip a beat. perhaps you were looking for a way to let him down easy? perhaps you wanted to be with jj, and not him? countless thoughts passed his train of thought as he watched you stare at the walls, as if contemplating. “all my life, i've never felt what i've been feeling these past few days,” you had finally broken the silence. “thought you'd leave my mind after you chose not to press charges, but you never did.” once again, he could relax. “i like you, rafe. i really like you.”

god, if your brother could see you. if any of your friends could have seen the position you were in, if they could have heard the words leaving your mouth, they'd lose their shit. they'd go completely off the rails. however, in that moment specifically, none of them mattered. you turned to the side, facing rafe and his look of shock with a proud smile on your face. with no need for any more words, meaningful or not, you allowed yourself to close the distance as you pressed your lips to his. this time, you were the one taking action, a look in your eyes that told him, “tied, we're tied.”

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voidpetrova · 3 months

Text

double-crossed — rafe cameron x reader

☄. *. ⋆ content warning(s) & genre: swearing, alcohol consumption, open wounds mentioned, violence depicted, anger issues depicted, sexually explicit content, unprotected sex, aggressive sex, rafe is soft, reader is even softer — smut

˚♡ ｡˚ synopsis: you despised him as much as he despised you. to him, you were nothing but a traitor to your people. you were a threat to him, he had finally met his match, but in their time of need, it's amazing who people turn to.

✧.*

the beach bonfire burned the brightest in the cut. where the waves were stronger and the sun was more intense. the lack of money was made up to you by the abundance of friends and peace. nobody really needed the money—that was what they lived by. all money did was make life easier, but life wasn't supposed to be easy. life's a bitch, until you make it your bitch.

“you're thinkin' real hard, ma, what's on your mind?” on the dock, there was a good view of the sun setting. everyone was tucked away, and the air's crisp. the sky was tinted with orange and blue, fading into the rippling sea. jj sat next to you as you lost track of time, lost track of yourself, eyes glued to what was in front of you.

“gonna kill him when i see him,” your voice was flat, monotone. jj frowned, the corners of his mouth tipping downward. it would have been easier on him if he knew you were joking, but he knew you weren't. “won't have any fuckin' parts left to bury.”

you could handle the threats and tension, but rafe cameron had crossed a line when he put his hands on pope. pope, who had done the least amount of provoking out of everybody. you hadn't been there when he had gotten jumped, and it pained you deeply. you were always ready, however. what you needed was some alone time with rafe, to get him in order your way.

“your hands are all fucked up.” jj commented, signalling to the various cuts and bruises that littered the knuckles on your fists. you brushed it off, much like everything. the walls in your room were stained with crimson—it'd taken the help of cleo, jj and kiara to hold and calm you down. kiara and sarah sent you out to recollect yourself, while they spent their time rubbing the blood out of your walls.

everybody was worried, there was no denying it. you could be more aggressive than you needed, but nobody could get used to it. ever since your parents disowned you, left you out of their will—you left home, left one side just to end up in the cut. you were alone, had no money, no family, no years of independence or experience. you still made something of yourself, found the love in your heart to call yourself a proud pogue. rafe was the first to call you a traitor, spending every moment in your presence unleashing empty threats and insults. you didn't care about rafe, you didn't care about anyone, not even yourself. you just needed to get your shit done.

“he's not worth it, (y/n),” it was unlike jj to say something of the sort—he relied primarily on instinct and nothing else. no thought, no thinking of the consequences. pure reflexes. “let him get himself fucking killed.” you didn't answer him, the sound of the waves filling in the silence. it was exactly what you were gonna do, you were gonna let him get fucking killed.

in the comfort of your own home, you found peace. it was a simple atmosphere, with the beat-down trailer park making no impression on the outside. the inside was what mattered, the warmth spreading through you as you rolled up your blinds, exposing the moonlight that embraced your skin gracefully. the air that passed through the cracked window was cool, refreshing. you retrieved a beer bottle from the fridge, the cool air grazing your bare legs as you kicked your legs over the sofa, spreading yourself out before slamming the cap of the bottle against the table's edge.

you ran a hand through your freshly-dried hair, wincing as the cheap fabric of the couch grazed your sunburnt bits. it was hot, despite the pinch of cool air, despite your lack of clothes. you were in nothing but one of jj's shirts, your panties underneath. the first buzz of dopamine hot you like a truck as you took a swig of beer, cold and invigorating. the television screen hummed with lights, volume at a bare minimum. you had soon began to regret your decision as the sound of weight against wood began to fill your ears.

your head spun towards the source of the sound, your front door locked, just a few feet away from your sofa. you rolled your eyes at the sound of the pounding, audible heavy breathing on the other side. “son of a motherfucker.” you snatched the blade sitting on the edge of your table, tucking it neatly into your underwear before pacing towards the door.

the sound of soft grunts were heard from the other side, but you had no way of making out who it was. with a steady hand, you prepared yourself, carefully unlocking the door before grabbing onto the handle, pulling with a quick flick of your wrist.

to make a miracle happen, you had to believe in them. to make a calamity happen, you had to be yourself. “you're fucking kidding.” he had his hands up, as if to say, “don't hurt me, i'm not armed,” but you couldn't take any chances, not while rafe cameron was standing on your porch in the middle of the night. you clutched your blade in one hand, using the other to disregard his stance of defeat. “no no no, (y/n)—” you grabbed onto the hem of his shirt as you pulled him into your house, past the steps of the porch. the back of his head hit your wall as you kicked the door closed and, in a matter of seconds, you had your elbow pushing down on his chest, the knife against his throat.

“(y/n), please,” he panted, straining against your touch. you shook your head, glaring at him. “not a chance, rafe,” you hissed. he closed his eyes shut, his breathing almost irregular. “give me one good reason as to why i shouldn't gut you right fucking now.”

he had no reliable answer, no good one, at least. he stayed quiet, with the knife pressing into his throat, for a good while. you watched his hands fly back up once more, the pressure you held him down with slowly loosening as he signalled to his shirt. it was torn up, stained with fresh blood. you stared at the mess, before returning his desperate gaze. “please, (y/n).”

hesitantly, you retracted the blade from his skin, letting it drop to the floor. you could tell the blood was fresh, watching the way it spresd throughout the white material of his shirt. your fingertips slid down his chest, aiming to grab ahold of the shirt's hem. you watched him, as if awaiting his approval—he nodded carefully.

the shirt was slick with blood, practically having to be peeled off his skin. he winced, stiffling a grunt of excruciating pain as you slid the shirt further up his chest, holding it down with one hand. you used the other hand to examine the situation. he had been shot. that's what it looked like, at least. the blood was constant, the wound very much open. your breath hitched as you met his gaze once more, his eyes fluttering, as if he was ready to give out at any moment.

“shit, rafe, i got you,” you wrapped one of his arms around your shoulders, your arm around his waist as you helped him walk towards the sofa. “jesus, fuck.” carefully, you sat him down, making sure he wouldn't cinch the wound. he let out a cry he failed to hold back as you helped him position himself, laying him onto his back.

it was a compromising, unexpected situation. you weren't exactly sure of what to do, whether you should've been calling jj or john b or, anybody, really. all you really knew was, in that moment, you had no rage to hold onto. you were concerned, and you had wished it was for your white sofa, and not the man bleeding onto it.

“what happened, rafe?” he shook his head, leaning it back as you listened. while he talked, you paced into the kitchen, frantically grabbing onto what you thought you'd need. rags, water, rubbing alcohol. you knew you had a medical kit in there somewhere, you just had to find it. “came by the cut, couldn't sleep. shit on my mind,” you hurried back to him, setting what you had found aside. you watched the wound swell with blood before taking one of your clean kitchen rags and placing it directly onto the source, applying as much pressure as possible. “got shot on the deck, didn't know where else to go.”

you scoffed as you positioned your fingers, putting weight onto his wound. it didn't seem too deep, but the bullet had to have been lodged in there. “could've called the hospital instead of comon' here.” he wiped his face with his hands, nodding, as if he was sorry. “i know, i just,” he paused, looking for the right words. “something told me to come here, y'know?”

you didn't question it, you weren't sure if you wanted to. you retracted the fully-stained rag, setting it aside before replacing it with another one. the aim was to soak up all the excess blood, stop the bleeding for a bit. once it had been soaked up, all that was left were the streaks of it trailing down his navel. “don't move,” you ordered, leaving him to go back for the medical kit. on the way back, as well as forth, you thought about what you were really doing. you had a chance, one to finish him off. you had the opportunity to avenge everyone—sarah, john b, pope. everybody, but you had no leverage. no rage left to hold onto, at least, not then. not while he was vulnerable.

“thanks for taking me in, i'm really sorry.” you set your kit aside, opening it to reveal neat arrays of medicine, shots, epi pens, and such. “don't thank me yet, this'll sting real bad,” you warned as you pulled out a packet of cotton pads. he gulped as he watched you—he couldn't look away, for whatever reason. you dampened the pads with the rubbing alcohol you had brought earlier. to your surprise, rafe's fingers had weakly latched onto your shirt, holding as he braced himself.

“king kook can't take the heat, what a surprise,” you laughed teasingly. he rolled his eyes, purposely retracting his touch. “you really should hold on, it'll burn.” you were right. because, the minute the pad came into contact with his wound, he found himself pulling at your shirt once more, a string of curses following.

the more you strived to disinfect it, the more the pain dialed down. you were careful to use gentle hands, wiping away as you circled his wound before finally discarding it. “you okay?” he nodded, his grip loosening as he let out a sigh of relief. he didn't have much time to deal with the pain, knowing there was only more to follow.

“rafe, i really need you to trust me now.” to extract the bullet, you needed a steady mind as much as steady hands. if you were to hit an artery, an organ—it would be fatal for him. “came here for a reason, (y/n),” he laughed weakly as he leaned back, watching the way you searched for the tools you needed. “were the best nurse on the damn island. still are.”

you shared in his laughter, the need to reminisce greater than the need to resist. “remember when you scraped your knee?” he was quick to agree, looking back on the years you two had shared together as kids. “oh, yeah,” he chuckled. “you came running with your stupid kit. all you had was water and bandages, this is an improvement.” you had fixed his knee up then the way you were now.

“when'd things all get so fucked?” the laughter had dialed down as you shrugged. “probably when i became a traitor, so you like to say.”

he shook his head, as if disagreeing, despite being his statement in the first place. “nah, nah. didn't betray any of us,” he paused to clear his throat, desperately searching for your eyes. “just miss you, y'know?” you didn't know if it was the pity that tugged at your heartstrings, watching him, sick and pale on your sofa, but you felt your gaze soften. “miss you too, rafe.”

you felt him wince at the feeling of the cold, metallic tool grazing his overheated stomach. he bit his lip as he watched you. no amount of trust could make up for how afraid he really was, it could all go wrong in a matter of minutes. he knew it, and you did. you knew it—you knew it as you used your left hand to reach for him, the atmosphere shifting as he reached back, lacing his fingers through yours. he gave your hand a squeeze, as if giving you all the permission you needed to continue.

treating the wound was the easy part. working your magic, extracting the bullet. you had it wrapped up in thirty minutes, more or less. what presented an issue was rafe. you couldn't ignore the way tears slid down his cheeks, moans of pain passing his lips as he gripped your hand. he held on tight, his leaving crescents on your knuckles. you had apologized a million times, the sound of his cries burdening your heart. during the entire process, he looked like he was ready to fall unconscious at any second. you wished he had, it'd have been a lot easier.

“thank you, so much,” his voice was softer than ever as you finished stitching him up; you were ready to wrap his wound just to be careful. “i'll be out of your hair as soon as you finish, promise.” you scoffed at the idea, despite being aware of the circumstances. he was right, he should get going as soon as possible. you didn't know what it was, but whatever it was, made it impossible for you to let him leave. “yeah, sure,” he met your eyes as you cut off a piece of gauze. “stay the night, can't go anywhere like that.”

“are you sure you want a kook here, pogue?” you knew he was joking, but it didn't stop you from tying the gauze a little too tight as you shot him a glare. “this pogue just saved your life.” it was clear who had won the argument.

you helped him get comfortable, offering him a spare top and shorts. “can i ask why you have men's clothes in extra large?” you shrugged, tossing him a wife beater and cargo shorts. “it's all jj's shit,” you didn't miss the look he shot you, his eyes switching between you and the clothes in hand. “don't tell me you have a problem with pogue clothes, too.”

he shook his head as you walked into the kitchen, allowing him all the privacy he needed while you went to retrieve two beers. unfortunately, the one you had set out earlier had grown accustomed to the room temperature. “nah, nothing like that, just wondering why you have all his shit,” you heard him as you pulled the glass bottles out. when you looked back, you froze in your tracks. he had been in the middle of pulling his joggers down, replacing them with jj's shorts. you wanted to look away, you really did, but you couldn't retract your gaze. before you could, rafe cocked his head to the side, locking eyes with you as a smirk played on his lips. “nothing you haven't seen before, sweetheart.”

you scoffed, pulling your gaze away in a state of pure embarrassment. “they call it the past for a reason, asshole.” you tossed him the bottle, watching him catch it with a taunting scoff.

you allowed him as much space as he needed on the couch, sitting on the other side as you opened your bottle the same way you had done earlier. rafe watched you, an almost genuine smile on his face, “some things never change, huh?” you turned to face him with a puzzled look, taking a swig of your drink as you did so. “all the bottle openers in the world, and you've been doing that since we were twelve.”

“yeah, i've always been the creative one, haven't i?” you watched as he copied your tactic, positioning the bottle as he slammed his palm into the cap, letting it pop right off. he had bent forward in a way that let your eyes explore him whole—you watched the way the muscles in his arms flexed, eyes sternly glaring at the bottle in hand. what you had noticed before anything else was the chain wrapped around his neck. you hadn't paid much attention before, but you had a clear view of it now.

even as he laid back down, your eyes remained glued to the familiar piece of jewellry. it was old, you could tell, what was supposed to be silver had tarnished after years of being worn. it was real silver, delicate patterns tracing the shape. rafe looked at you, following your gaze before he pulled at the chain with his thumb, his lips curling into a smile. “pretty, isn't it?” you nodded, but it was just as familiar as it was pretty. “yeah, been wearing it for years.”

“feel like i've seen it before,” you finally announced. he took a sip of beer, eyebrows raised as the smile never faltered. “i'd hope so,” he murmured, earning a look of confusion from you. “it's the best gift you've ever given me.”

it had taken a while for your memory to lock in, your look of puzzled concentration faltering after a minute. as a kook, you had spent your entire childhood with rafe. until the day your parents kicked you out, you were by his side. until the day you left and became a pogue, you were his to protect. when you were thirteen, he was a year older. you remembered buying him the chain a day before his birthday, locking it around his neck the day the clock struck midnight. “you've really kept it all these years?” your voice was soft, too soft. he nodded, though hesitant. he could barely look you in the eyes. “of course i did,” as if the answer had been obvious to everyone but you. “my favorite girl gave it to me.”

the guilt that had ate away at you all those years had begun to resurface. you thought you were angry, all this time. ever since he had crossed the poor side of the island the first time after your departure—after calling you a traitor—you thought you had been harboring anger. you hadn't betrayed your people, you had betrayed him. behind his façade of a blinding fury, he was hurt. you could see it in his eyes all those years ago, and you could see it now.

“you just took off,” he continued. “went to your house and your parents said they kicked you out. did you even think to tell me? ever think about your best friend taking you in.”

the anger had begun peeking past the pain he had been keeping inside all those years. “couldn't ask that of you, rafe. i had to go.” he scoffed, no matter how honest you were being. you couldn't face him—not him, or ward, rose. none of them, not after losing all you had. it was a match made, because that day, rafe had lost all he had, too. “so, you ran? didn't tell me shit, just left me,” his voice practically broke near the end of his sentence. “you were all i had.”

for the first time in a long time, you ignored the way your head grew foggy. you ignored the way your blood boiled and heart pounded. you ignored the anger you had been training in order to save yourself of the guilt. “i'm sorry, rafe,” you had apologized. it was quiet, but only for a while.

“forgave you a long time ago,” the way he always had. not just anybody, but you.

you had begun to imagine what your life could have been like, how many things you could have prevented for rafe and yourself. you would have lost the friends you had now, but you'd have kept the boy who was always by your side. you could have spared him the pain brought onto him by ward, by everybody. the only time he mattered was when he was with you. the artificial dream was nothing but artificial.

“i should've been there,” you summed your thoughts aloud. “after everything, i should've been there for you.”

rafe shook his head, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth as he sighed. “you were the only person i wanted with me,” he admitted. his words struck a nerve, your chest growing tight at the confession. “not a day's gone by, where i haven't thought about you.”

you had spent so much of your time hating him, detesting him for the way he had grown harsh and cold. how he treated you during your hour of need, but where were you when he needed you? “if i could take it all back, you know i would.” he knew you would, in a heartbeat. the hatred was nothing but the color that stained the canvas—the canvas, grief, pain. you were both in pain, you both felt betrayed. “i wish you could,” he wished you could. he really did.

the clock next to the television told you that it was three hours past midnight, but you weren't tired. silence had engulfed you both whole, both of you much too hesitant to speak. you cleared your throat, “want me to help you get to bed?” rafe turned to you, meeting your eyes with a look in them you couldn't quite decipher. “i'll sleep on the couch, you've done enough.” you weren't happy with his answer, but you didn't wanna come on any stronger than you already had.

“the bed's big enough for the pair of us,” you informed him. “you got shot, you aren't sleeping alone let alone on the couch.” he didn't want to resist, all he wanted was to jump out of his skin and straight onto the bed. your bed. with you right next to him. you offered a smile, watching his eyebrows furrow as if he were in deep thought. “it'll be just like old times.”

the bed really was big enough, enough space for a third party, too. that was precisely why your house was the go-to spot within your group of pogues. the amount of times you had woken up to jj, pope and john b drunkenly stacked on top of each other was incredible. there was always enough room for the girls, too.

you had spread out two blankets, one on top of the other. it was as humid as ever on the coast, so you really didn't need it. what you needed was to prevent rafe from losing more blood. “is this alright?” he nodded appreciatively. you felt him behind you, his presence. you felt it as he towered over you from behind, and you didn't dare turn around. he had grown an impressive amount since the last time you'd seen him. the right way, at least. you'd never know it, but he watched you. he watched the way you stood there, legs bare and hair beautifully messy. you had gotten prettier since the last time he'd seen you. he could barely recognize the knockout inches away.

you took a step towards the bed, aiming to fix the edges and tuck the bedsheets in properly. the sheets were just fine, really. you just needed an excuse to cut the tension, to resist the urge to turn around. your attempt had proved unnecessary as rafe stopped you in your tracks, his large hand clamping around your wrist as he turned you around, the need to face you stronger than ever.

for a bit, you both stayed silent. he eatched you carefully, quietly admiring the way your cheeks flared as you struggled to return his gaze. you could feel your heart pounding in your chest only, this time, you weren't angry. he dropped your wrist, fingers tracing the shape of your jaw as he moved to cup your cheek. it was as if he couldn't believe it was happening, like he had been dreaming the entire way through.

“you're so pretty,” the words tumbled out before he could stop himself, unaware of what reaction he'd induce. “always been the prettiest on the island.” he admired the work the sun had done on your skin, your eyes, your nose, your lips. the way your natural hair color had faded under the heat, but remained healthy and stunning.

you would always be his girl, nobody else's. you knew it, he knew it. nobody else needed to know, it was your truth. it was what gave you sudden courage, a dose of adrenaline. it gave you enough to stand up to him, hands of your own moving to cup his cheeks before you pressed your lips to his. he gave in the moment he walked into your house. really, the moment he had met you. even while you weren't his, he was still yours. he still gave in, and he would give in every single time.

as his lips met yours, it was as if the world faded away. the kiss started slow, a delicate exploration that ignited a fire within. rafe's fingers traced the contours of your jaw, his touch leaving a trail of heat. the taste of him was intoxicating, a perfect blend of beer and longing. his lips moved with a rhythm that spoke of familiarity, a dance that only the two of you shared. the kiss deepened, a magnetic pull drawing you closer. your hands found their way to the back of his neck, fingers weaving through his hair as the intensity heightened.

in a bold move, rafe's hands began to explore, trailing down your sides, igniting sparks along your skin. with a sudden urgency, he lifted you slightly, guiding you towards the bed. the softness of the mattress embraced you as the kiss continued, a symphony of desire building with each passing moment. the world outside ceased to exist as you succumbed to the intoxicating allure of rafe's touch. the room became a haven for whispered promises and shared vulnerability. you melted into the embrace of the bed, allowing the connection between you and rafe deepen, an unspoken understanding that transcended words.

“watch your wound, rafe,” you warned, gasping as his newly treated wound caught your attention. he couldn't care less, planting sloppy kisses alongside your jaw. your eyes fluttered shut. “don't give a shit, got better things to do,” he murmured, peppering kisses down your neck as he pulled at the hem of your shirt. he tugged at it—jj's shirt. “take this shit off, you're not wearing his clothes anymore.”

the proposal didn't seem to bother you that much. you complied, allowing him to pull the shirt off with your arms in the air. your breasts fell bare, capturing his attention faster than ever. “just like that, baby,” he practically growled. you couldn't help the moans that passed your lips as he attacked your chest, wet lips travelling down the valley as he tugged with his teeth, massaged with his tongue. you pulled at his blond locks, letting his lips trail back up your tits before latching onto yours once more.

while waiting for you to catch up, rafe undid the knot on his shorts and pushed them down to his ankles, kicking them off before removing his tank top. he was left in only a pair of loose grey boxers that rested low on his hips, showing off his v-line and his hip bones. he then motioned to you to do the same. “come on, take off your panties,” he said, grinning. “let me see that pussy.” you pouted in response. he stepped closer to you, putting his large, warm hands on your hips. “you want me to do it for you?” you bit your lip and nod slightly.

he held onto the waistband of your panties and pulled them down as he sunk to his knees. he let the delicate fabric fall next to him, looking hungrily at the newly exposed area. he leaned his face in and pressed his nose to the joint of your leg and groin, taking a deep inhale of your scent. you couldn't suppress your moans, and neither could he, the tightness in his boxers unbearable. it was wet—so wet, he almost wanted to chuckle and tease you a while. just for old time's sake, but the ache that shot down to his cock reminded him that he was in no position to tease you while not dealing any better himself. he spread your legs, kissing gently at your clit in a feather-like touch that had you moaning and clutching the sheets in anticipation.

“so pretty,” he murmured, “been hiding this pretty little thing all this time, this perfect pussy.” “rafe,” you gasped in embarrassment, hands reaching for his hair and tugging him closer to where you needed him most—equally because you really needed him on your cunt and because you really needed him to shut up. “fuck, you’re dripping,” he groaned, chuckling as he toyed with you, “that’s so fuckin’ cute.”

the impatience had him dragging his tip along your folds, collecting the slick pooling at your cunt before pushing right past your folds, splitting you in half as he slowly buried himself to the brim. his jaw clenched, breath labored as he waited for you to adjust, let you kiss his cheeks and jaw while you murmured how handsome he was, how perfect he felt, how good was to you. your hips bucked up in tandem with his, meeting his rhythm as he drilled into you, his balls slapping against your skin as he buried his cock into you as deep as it could go with every aggressive thrust. you could feel the head kissing against the sweet spot in the back of your walls, your trembling pussy sucking him in and hugging around him as he groaned.

the friction felt sickening, like he could pass out at any second, like he was drifting along the bridge of pleasure and the crevice of consciousness. it wasn't the wound causing it, it was all you. you did that to him—he didn't know how or why, but you made him feel like he didn’t have a grip on his thoughts. he didn’t mind it so much, he thought—didn't hate the idea of letting himself fall into your palm and wrap around it. he was where he belonged.

rafe, in all his years of knowing you, had never experienced the side of you that could be that gentle. the side that slid your hands over his back, feeling every flex and every pull of his lats and biceps, gently caressing the skin like was made to be worshipped. your lips seared into every part of him they could find—his lips, his forehead, his nose, his hair as his face dug into your neck. even your voice was a gentle whisper of his name, so soft and careful, as if saying it wrong could break him.

“fuck, you're so tight,” he rasped, whining into your neck as your hand cupped the back of his head, holding him in place. his hips slammed into you sloppily, barely maintaining the rhythm from before as he neared his climax, but it didn't stop him from angling into you perfectly, drilling into your sensitive bit each time without fail. “cum—i’m gonna cum. cum with me, baby.”

it was messy, the way cum spilled out of you and coated his dick, but it was flawless and felt so, so right, as if it was showing him all the ways he could've had you all these years. you couldn't help but think how perfectly rafe fit against you as his body slumped on top of yours, panting and exhausted as he caged you in his arms.

“don't leave,” was all he could make out through rasps, his body sputtering. you smiled sweetly, fingers looping through his as your eyes fluttered shut. “not a chance,” you promised. “not this time.”

#obx #obx x reader #obx imagine #obx fanfiction #obx fic #obx rafe #outer banks #outer banks smut #outer banks imagine #outer banks x reader #outer banks fanfiction #obx smut #rafe cameron #rafe smut #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfiction

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voidpetrova · 3 months

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shoulder to cry on — obx men x reader

ONE-SHOTS

☄. *. ⋆ content warning(s) & genre: swearing, drug abuse mentioned, child abuse, assault is mentioned, previous relarionships mentioned, pining, slight unrequited love, death mentioned, suicide mentioned — hurt/comfort

˚♡ ｡˚ synopsis: comforting the obx men during their time of need, helping them heal and cherishing the fact that you're their rock

✧.*

sometimes, the pain of growing up with too present of a father figure is just as harmful as the lack of one. JJ MAYBANK grew up without a mother, she had left him and luke many years back, while jj was just a kid. he didn't deserve it, he didn't ask for it. he had yearned for the love of his mother, the love he would never receive. he was sure his father blamed him for it, for her leaving and never coming back. every fuck-up of his was just another reason for luke's resentment.

luke had his moments, ones where a switch would flip, and his son was the apple of his eye. it was an artificial pride, jj knew it, too. but it never stopped him from smiling, from the temporary joy that filled him to the brim, the fabricated chance that his father was proud of him.

every one of the pogues had seen the aftermath of their arguments, but no one really tried diving deeper into them. no one thought to do something about it, to take action. they all had their priorities in the way—the treasure, ward, the cross—things that jj helped with, but when would the favor be returned? he cried, body trembling with broken sobs, the thought of his pain going unnoticed rubbing salt into the wound. it didn't go unnoticed.

“c'mere, baby,” never in his life did he see himself breaking down in front of anybody, let alone a girl. he didn't harbor enough trust to let loose like that. it was his way of thinking, until you came along. you were the ray of sunshine that finally peaked, bursting through the clouds and the façade that he had so carefully put up. you were his anchor. “i'm here now.”

you were there, you really were. he sobbed, the cold tiles of the floor brushing his bare, bruised legs. he reached out to you, his breathing heavy. tears slid down your cheeks as you took him into your arms, wrapping them around his back as you pulled him in closer than ever. you were his real home, the person he felt safest with. “gonna come live with me, let me take my boy in,” you rambled through tears, his face buried in your neck as you listened to him. you listened to the way he sobbed, and you knew all he had longed for was unconditional love. “i love you, j, i'm so proud of you, so proud.”

all he could do was cry. you would take him in, your parents would take him in. all he felt was love, despite the years of craving it. he nodded through his sobs, and for a while, you sat there. you sat there with him in your arms, stroking his hair while you both cried. in the end, it was okay, because he knew he was safe.

✧.*

nothing ever went to waste. no amount of hard work; blood, sweat and tears—none of it ever went to waste. it was a fact JOHN B needed help accepting. it wasn't that he didn't want to accept it, but he couldn't. every obstacle he had come across sent him into a spiralling abyss of insanity, and he needed help finding his way out.

the time he had spent following his father's tracks, the time he had spent as a refugee—away from you, away from his friends—, the time spent on trial and in a prison cell, none of it ever went to waste, and he never could've done it without you. he had his moments, episodes where he would lose it. it all became too much for him, but the moment came when he watched ward's legacy come to an end, watching his boat blow to pieces. it was all over.

you were the one that caught him when he had collapsed, falling to his knees. you fell right with him. it was all over, it was, finally, all over. he couldn't find it in his heart to believe it, to accept it. he ran a hand through his hair as tears rolled down his cheeks, his breathing elevated as he watched the frenzy of flames in the water.

“it's okay, it's done,” you had brought the words to life as you searched for his attention, hands cupping his cheeks and wiping his tears away. it was all over, a brief, temporary but, nonetheless, existent peace was in store. “you did so good, john b, it's over.”

he knew it was all over the minute he heard it from you, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you in. he found all the peace he needed in your presence, your warmth. knowing you had been there the entire time, knowing you would always be there. it was all he needed.

✧.*

papers were scattered across the floor, the room dark and quiet. he didn't need the silence, it was the last thing he wanted. his thoughts ate him alive, sweat trickling down his temple as he sat on the floor, hands pressed against his ears as if to mute the voices in his head. the voices told POPE HEYWARD that he would never amount to anything, that all of his work went to waste. he would never be significant amongst the pogues, not as much as jj and john b. he would never be significant in his father's eyes, in the eyes of the future. no scholarship, no future. nothing. as if there was nothing in store for him.

the only source of light had come to life when his door had cracked open, the light in the hallway embracing his features, his red eyes and the tear stains on his cheeks. his father had let you in, guiding you into his room almost immediately, a worried expression on his face. you frowned when you saw him, running to his feet as fast as you could.

“pope,” you began, pausing to scan the mess in his room. the scattered papers, the broken pencils and books that had been torn apart. “talk to me, baby, what's the matter?” he couldn't meet your gaze as he shook his head, allowing the tears to fall freely. all he wanted, more than anything, was a chance at life.

when he finally began breaking down, he didn't fight back as you pulled him into your arms. you felt him tense up, but the feeling lasted a split second, no longer. “there's nothing for me out there, is there?” you could barely make out what he was saying through his tears. your warm hand stroked his cheek as you shook your head, planting a kiss on his forehead.

“got such a bright future, pope, i promise,” you whispered, and it meant something to him. all the pushing, all the fighting he had been doing just to be important. he wanted to find his place, wanted to make everybody proud. “just don't forget me when you're out studying in new york, when you're rich and famous, living in a villa.” he laughed through his tears, and you couldn't resist joining.

despite joking, there was a hint of seriousness in your words. “i won't, i promise.” his words had come out more clearly the second time around. you placed another kiss onto his forehead, “you've come so far, pope. i'm so proud of you, you're gonna be great.” it meant something, more than when people pushed his limits, his capabilities. it was enough to know, at least someone, thought he was doing enough.

when you separated from his touch, he felt his heart stop, his eyes searching your return the following second. you offered him a soft smile as you showed him what you were doing, picking up what had been discarded and thrown around the room. the papers, the books. picking up pieces of him, putting them back together.

✧.*

things had a way of falling into place the same way they had a way of falling apart. sometimes, fate was nice, and decided to show a way out. an exit, despite the previous challenges that awaited completion. RAFE CAMERON was lost, he had no way out, it seemed. a glass child—an abusive, narcissistic sociopath, that's what he was, right? everyone knew him as an aggressive, spoiled cokehead. no one thought to ask why? how?

bags of the white powder remained on his table, sealed shut, two weeks after ward had killed himself. sometimes, he found himself contemplating taking a few lines, knowing his body had grown accustomed to them. two weeks, he had been clean for two weeks. he couldn't have done it alone, he knew that. waking up in the middle of the night from a nightmare with a dry throat, in cold sweat. it wasn't something he could fathom doing alone.

“it's not your fault, rafe,” for the first time in a long time, he was quiet. for the first time, he was the one doing the listening. he listened to you, he had to. “you did so good, baby. you protected him, your family. it wasn't sarah or rose, it was all you.” every little sacrifice, every little thing he did, was him ripping a piece of himself off to save his father. all he ever wanted was to matter, to be his son. not a pawn or a disappointment, he wanted his validation. when ward died, everything seemed to go with him, his love included.

tears clouded his eyes and he sniffled, throat growing thick with tears as he listened. “he's gone, rafey. he's dead, and we can't bring him back,” you sat yourself next to him, fingers desperately grazing his face as you brushed away the tears that fell loosely. “but he died loving you, and you know it. none of this would have been possible without you. he died proud, knowing his son saved him. none of us could do it, it was all you.”

it was everything he needed to hear. he couldn't imagine crying in front of his girlfriend, any girl, as a matter of fact. it was different with you. you didn't tell him to man up like barry did, you didn't tell him he was alright, even though he wasn't, like ward had. you listened, you comforted. you took him into your arms as he finally began to cry, using your free hand to throw the powder-filled bags into the bin next to the sofa. he cried, like never before. there was no limit with you.

“good job, rafey. did so good for him.” he didn't care about the coke, he didn't care about the withdrawals. he didn't feel the need for any of it, not while he was with you. you kissed his cheek as you pulled him in closer, letting him stain your shirt as he continued to cry. you would let him come to you during any time of need, you needed to keep him afloat when he needed it the most. and he loved you for it.

✧.*

you had healed a heart you didn't break. maybe you were his guardian angel, maybe you were sent by a higher power, maybe you were what sealed his fate. TOPPER THORNTON knew he had his phases, specifically, the period he spent chasing a girl who wanted nothing to do with him. he wasn't her destination, he was just a stop along the way. he was good to sarah, he always let her come back to him when she wanted nothing to do with john b. after every argument, he accepted her temporary presence, even though he knew she'd always go back to him. he accepted the love he thought he was meant to receive, before meeting you.

he had stopped letting her come back, he let you heal his heart, even though it wasn't yours to heal. he let himself fall apart. for once, he was someone's to fall apart and put back together. he couldn't play the savior anymore, it was all you. it was you who treated him to dinner, who made promises—not to break, but to keep. you were the one who distracted him from his mother, his past, the peer pressure and mistakes along the way.

“they don't define you,” is what you'd tell him. it took convincing, it took repetition, but it stopped going in one ear and out the other. he finally realized it once he har started floating adrift, straying and going towards rafe and kalce, who had him coked up, in the presence of girls who wanted him drunk with his wallet full. each time he came back, drugged and drunk, you waited for him. it began to dial down, he had started declining the offers. getting himself back, with your help.

you knew how thankful he was, and you knew you couldn't leave him be. when you prepared him breakfast in bed, you knew that all your work could go down the drain at any moment, but you didn't care. you never stopped. it was worth it, to you. it was worth seeing the way his face lit up. for once, it was him receiving love, as much as he gave.

✧.*

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voidpetrova · 3 months

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you feel tears springing in your eyes while JJ MAYBANK's got his cock in your mouth, every inch trapped by your strained throat, the one he's been training to take all of him at once. he's so sweet with you, so gentle—most of the time. the ideal boyfriend, the real “meet your parents” type, whole package. when he's turned on, it's the complete opposite. it's as if he functions by the flip of a switch, turning into a pussy-drunk spawn of satan in a matter of seconds.

“so fuckin' slutty,” he purrs, and he's right. with your makeup long gone, black streaks running down your face and lipstick smudged down your chin, you're completely fucked-out. tits hanging out of your top, ass in the air while you're in between his knees, grabbing onto his hairy thighs while you stare up at him. he's just as fucked-out, so close and so painfully hard with his cock twitching in your mouth. “gonna blow my load jus' by lookin' at ya.”

you hum around his base, past the point where you're gagging and spilling tears. you trail up his length once more, stopping at the top to pay some special attention to his tip, licking in a circular motion and teasing the slit with the tip of your tongue. “no fucking teasing, ma,” he's got his fingers in your hair, pulling and rutting his hips so desperately, you can't help yourself. “take it, 'm so fuckin' close.”

pulling away the attention from his tip just to sink down his dick once more, hollowing your cheeks as you go down on him to get the suction just right. your mouth's wet, it's tight and warm and he's so close to blowing his load. his bleach blond locks are glued to his forehead with sweat, abs shining with the same sheer fluids and he's breathing heavy; absolute putty under your touch.

you repeat the process from head to shaft, nose burying itself in his pubes each time you go back down, finding yourself quickening your pace. you can tell he's close, it's so painfully obvious with the way he's pushing your head down, eyes rolling back while he's pushing his hips up. you've got a hand toying with his balls, sticky and warm, massaging them to get the most out of him—and it works. “god fucking dammit, fuck, fuck, shit—” with your tongue trailing down to his perineum, he's done for.

trembling with his dick twitching madly, the way he pulled at your hair and groaned loudly was the only sign you needed. he's panting, thrusting messily into your mouth, watching the way you drool all over his cock. he's pumping all his cum into your mouth, and you quite literally suck him dry. every drop you can milk him for, you swallow. you swallow, and he's never been more grateful for you.

#obx #obx x reader #obx imagine #obx fanfiction #obx fic #obx smut #outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks smut #outer banks imagine #outer banks x reader #outer banks jj #jj maybank #jj x reader #jj smut #jj maybank x reader smut #jj maybank smut #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank fanfiction

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voidpetrova · 3 months

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Wanted to say that I’m so happy you’re back!! 🫶

i missed you so much omg thought about u while i was away 😩

#I LOVE THIS APP

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voidpetrova · 3 months

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cash or credit? — rafe cameron x reader

☄. *. ⋆ content warning(s) & genre: swearing, use of marijuana, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, praise, sex under the influence — smut

˚♡ ｡˚ synopsis: it's your first time trying weed, and you have no one to turn to but your best friend, who offers a different way for you to pay him back

✧.*

“absolutely not,”

“why the fuck not?”

“i'm not fucking selling you weed.”

you weren't exactly a persuasive person. negotiating wasn't exactly one of your specialties, a prime reason you were in the position you werw currently in, and not one of north carolina's most famous lawyers. you wanted to try some weed, wanted to see how it feels to get high. you've been a drinker up until this, knocking more than a few back with ease. a fan of cigarettes, too. you didn't care for spending money on them, though. why would you go through the trouble? stealing them from your best friend was easier.

“you're such a dick, dude,” you scoffed, waving the money you had brought in his face. you didn't know exactly how much you were getting, how much you needed, or how much it'd cost. so, you just brought a fifty for good measure. there was no way it was more than that. “i'm trying to expand your business here, you should be thanking me.”

rafe scoffed at you as he finished off what was left of his joint, inhaling the bitter smoke as he furrowed his eyebrows. “you're crazy if you think i'm gonna let you get high.” he argued after holding the smoke in, for as long as he could. now, it was your turn to scoff, “don't act like you care,” he shot an eyebrow up at your words. “if you don't sell it to me, some other shady asshole will. so, either help me or let me get laced.”

despite not being persuasive, you had a special way of pushing his buttons. “jesus fucking christ, c'mere,” he finally agreed, sighing in defeat as he motioned for you to come sit next to him. you were ecstatic, rushing over to sit next to him as you pulled him in for a hug. you felt him tense up under your touch, cheeks turning the prettiest shade of pink as you uttered out your “thank yous”.

the glass table set in front of him was laid with a variety of artifacts, some familiar to you while others weren't. you spotted his grinder, rolling paper, and his tinted bags of weed. the scent wasn't overwhelming, unlike the stern look he shot you. “you're not leaving my sight, you got that?” you nodded, patiently watching out for his next move.

he pulled out a sheet of rolling paper from the pack, the sheer material twirling between his fingertips. “if you're gonna smoke, may as well teach you how to roll,” he insisted, only half-joking as he shot you a smile. “first and last time i roll for you, you hear me?” that was a lie and he knew it, but you listened, nonetheless.

“take some weed, be gentle with it,” he began as he opened up his bag, revealing the dark green plant inside. “put it in the grinder, gotta open it up.” you watched closely, scanning the way his strong, long fingers pulled the grinder apart, layering the plant inside before closing it back up. “gonna grind it up just until it's fine, okay?” it was a weird thing to admit, but you couldn't help but enjoy the way he talked you through it. it made you feel stupid, but in a weird way, pleasant.

he worked the tool carefully, turning it toward the side, but not for long. as he removed the lid, you watched the way it had gone from whole to fine in a matter of seconds. “hand me the rolling paper, sweetheart.” you gulped, tensing up at the nickname, but you said nothing. you handed him the sheer sheet, watching as he flattened it out on the table. his fingers carefully picked at the green, layering it on the paper as closely as he could. “gotta leave some space before you start rolling.”

you frowned at the generous amount of weed he had been stuffing the paper with. “that not too much?” he let out a dry laugh, “if you're gonna smoke with me, gotta make sure i make it worth it.” you trusted him more than you trusted yourself, you trusted his experience and, unfortunately, him as a person. so, you said nothing.

after filling up the paper generously enough, you watched carefully, breath hitching in your throat as he brought the half-done joint up to his lips, swiping his tongue from the left corner to the right. you didn't know if it was voluntary or not, if it was just because of how close you were sitting next to him, but you couldn't ignore what the sight did to you. he seemed to have noticed it, too. “like what you see?” he smirked, earning a scoff from you as you snapped out of your trance. “less talking, more rolling.”

he had pressed tightly, rolling the joint in a tighr and orderly fashion, careful to watch out for loose ends and spills. he was a professional, he loved his work. the joint was formed in a matter of seconds, and he was all too pleased with himself. the filter held everything in place, thin paper wrapped around it carefully.

“let me just spark it up for you, yeah?” you nodded in agreement, watching as he placed the joint in between his lips. his lighter flickered, awaiting the flame that would ignite your newlyfound experience. he was careful not to burn the paper, finally setting it ablaze the right way before inhaling deeply. the smoke hit his lungs like thunder, but it was nothing new to him. he let out a sigh of relief before turning to you, passing you the joint.

there was no hesitation—you took it, rolling it in between your index finger and thumb as you pressed it to your lips. you ignored the way the scent shocked your lips, leaving a nasty burning sensation, as you inhaled deeply. rafe watched in admiration, eyebrows jolting at the fact that you hadn't ended up in a fit of coughs. you took it like a champ, keeping it in your lungs long enough to kickstart a buzz, even helping yourself to a second hit. “atta fucking girl, took it so good,” he cooed. you gulped, savoring the unique flavor in your mouth despite how dry it was. his words did something to you no law of science could explain. “thanks, rafey.” luckily for you, your chosen nickname had similar effects on him.

what was left of the joint spent the following minute or so being passed between you and rafe, until nothing was left to smoke. you had slouched your shoulders in disappointment at how fast the joint seemed to turn to ash, but rafe made up for it by rolling a new one. the process repeated itself once more—grind, sprinkle, lick, roll, smoke. when fifteen minutes followed the second joint, you were scared to stand up.

you had kicked your legs over rafe's lap, head beginning to spin each time you tried getting up, so you had accepted defeat. you leaned back, mouth dry as your legs tensed up, eliciting soft whines from your lips, earning rafe's attention. “so much for taking it well,” he smirked. you responded with another whine, “can't even think anymore.” he let out a soft laugh, his voice deeper than usual. “that's what makes it so fun.”

he had a point—it was as if your brain had finally turned itself off. nothing mattered, not even the dryness in your mouth, or the way your eyes burned. not with the way your head spinned, as if you were existing anywhere but the present. you pulled your arms behind your head, arching your back as you stretched, trying to rid yourself of the tension in your lats. rafe's eyes wandered and he couldn't help but stare at the way your back arched, tank top lifting to reveal your bare stomach and the bottom of your tits. your head was leaned back, pretty noises leaving your mouth and your eyes shut. he swallowed roughly, palm involuntarily pushing down against the strain in his pants.

he tried his hardest to pull it off, but the voice in his head had something better in mind. “should talk about how you're gonna pay me back, sunshine,” you pulled yourself back up, head tilting as you processed what he was saying. you shrugged, “how much money do you want?” rafe had to think about it for a second, having all the time in the world to ponder, before finally biting the bullet.

“don't want your fuckin' money.” for a second, you were confused. you had known him for a long time, and you've had your moments where nothing he said made any sense to you, and this was one of them. “what do you want then, rafey?”

every nerve inside your body was on fire as you watched him carefully. he met your eyes with his own red, low ones. his voice was deeper than usual, smoother than usual. today, his shirt seemed tighter. his legs seemed more spread apart. to prevent your eyes from trailing down any lower, you had to shut them light. “look at me,” he whispered. just like always, you did as you were told, eyes fluttering open as you met his gaze. you tucked your bottom lip between your teeth, wetting it, desperate for some kind of moisture. he spread his legs just a bit more, before beckoning for you to come over. for you to sit. “c'mere.”

one word was all it had taken for you to give in, as much as he let you. you crawled over towards him, his eyes of admiration dropping from your face to the open valley of your breasts as you did so. when your faces were inches apart, he found himself cupping your jaw, thumbing your soft skin. “just thought of a way you could pay me back,” he purred. “you think you can be good for me?”

all you had come over for was the chance to experience a new high, wanting to see what the big deal was. if you had known this was what fate had in store for you, you'd have done it much sooner. “i can be good for you,” you assured him, and he smiled for what seemed more than genuine.

the air crackled with anticipation as he closed the distance, his fingers grazing your cheek. the world faded away, leaving only the pulsating heat of the moment. rafe's lips met yours in a fiery dance, a blend of passion and longing. time seemed to stand still as the kiss deepened, sending shivers down your spine. in that stolen moment, the world outside ceased to exist, and all that remained was your searing connection. he practically growled as he wrapped his arms around your bare waist, pulling you onto his lap.

“no idea how long i've been waiting to do that,” you smiled at his words as you pulled away, only to pull your tank top off your body. “no idea how long i've been waiting for you to do that.”

you could feel him poking you through your shorts, your clothed, damp panties. he was big, you could tell. it was something you found yourself wondering more often than necessary, but he was big. rock hard while you pressed your cunt against him, rocking your hips. he let out a moan, one of the prettiest sounds you have ever heard in your life, and you were sure you wanted to hear more of it. he could feel himself growing harder while you grew wetter, whining as he took one of your tits in his mouth, hand wrapped around the other.

“thank god you came to me for this,” he hummed, pressing a final kiss to your tit before working on ridding himself of his own clothes. “if you'd done this with any other fucker, i'd kill him on the spot.”

you shook your head, watching carefully as he pulled his shirt off, carefully revealing himself to you little by little. “just for you, rafey.” he seemed satisfied with your answer.

he wanted to take his time with you, having fantasized about this moment in particular forever. though, a part of him just wanted to having you a moaning mess beneath him. your hand slid up his bare chest, eyes glossy with impatience as he rid himself of his boxers. “need you to fuck me, rafey.”

“gonna be the death of me,” he shook his head, hand pressed thoughtlessly against the front of your thigh, spreading you wider while in his lap. “but not before i stretch this pussy.” he sighed under his breath, ever so eagerly pressing a finger between your clothed folds, fat lips swallowing the sheer material. you sucked in a breath, and released it with a hiccup, his eyes leaving your cunt to look at you as you did so. “take 'em off, baby.” he delivered a light slap to your clothed clit, a smirk gracing his lips when you jolted with a whine. you wriggled out of them, unsure of what to do with them so you reach to throw them to the side, but rafe beats you to it. he's quick to throw them but not before pressing them to his nose, dick twitching as he inhaled your sweet scent, leaving you flushed with embarrassment.

when he'd finally pushed into you, his blonde bangs shook against his forehead as he looked up at you, watching your cunt slurp him up while you cried with each passing second. moans were practically shoved out of you, like there was no room to keep them inside while he buried himself to the balls in your little cunt. quickening his pace, slapping skin on skin because of what he had been missing out on for so long.

“rafey, too fucking much,” you sobbed, lost in what seemed to be pain and pleasure, clutching his toned arms. he pushed your hand off of him, picking you up just slightly by your thighs. for a second, you'd been granted a reprieve, but that was only a warm-up, slotting his hands under your thighs to raise you, biceps aching from the process. for a second, you catched your ragged breath, until he slammed you back onto his dick. he didn't think to ease you on inch after inch, no, he bottomed out right away, plunging his length into you. you thought it was hard before, now you were on the verge of tears, thoughtlessly reaching out to him as if to wordlessly ask for a time-out.

he kept his absolute focus on you as he watched with low eyes, dick twitching at the sight of you bouncing on his dick despite the pain, your eyes red and teary as your tits bounched with every movement, a ring of cream forming around his shaft, and he couldn't resist smirking. you spasmed, clutching around his cock. “sweet little cunt sucking my dick in, yeah?” he cooed rhetorically, batting his eyelashes tauntingly. “best not be letting anyone fuck this pussy after me.”

you balled your little fingers up at the pain, weakly hitting your fist against his chest, taut from his hold on you, fingernails digging into your skin as you struggled to fight him. “no one's gonna fuck me but you, rafey, i swear!” he smirked at the response, “just got started and you're already so desperate f'my dick.” he deliberately pushed your hips down against his pelvis, introducing a deeper way for his cock to drill into you, and in turn, pistoning his dick into you in a way that had your eyes rolling. his movements, telling himself to be slow and careful, caused him to tremble from effort, every muscle flexed as he fucked you. your legs were spread for him as he watched you drench his dick in your juices.

“i'll split you in half if i catch you with another guy.” he was so deep inside that you could feel his tight balls against you. he was stretching you out so wide that you felt like he was piercing you. his hips picked up a relentless pace, snapping up against yours so hard that the sofa trembled under his ass. “no one else, rafe, i promise. only you get to have me.” he loves the idea of it so much that's he's chasing his high now, snarling as he rubs your puffy clit, dick pounding into you as you moan some more, stomach twisting and turning as you gush some more.

by then, your whole body was convulsing, and you'd been void of any energy. rafe knew that, it was crystal clear. he fumbled your bouncing tits as his mouth hung open, snarls passing his lips as he stuffed you as much as possible. his cock split you in half with each hard thrust, hands migrating to the back of your thighs, spreading you as he pounded you, cock twitching as tears slid down your cheeks.

“i’m gonna cum, fuck, fuck,” you warned. he slammed into you a few more times before his balls tightened, and before you knww it, he was spurting his seed into you with the most delicious groan you’d ever heard. you finally came, drunk from his cock and so far gone that you wondered if you were even alive anymore. you were, in fact, very much alive. you knew it when you looked into his eyes, shaking in his lap as he remained plunged into your pussy, fingertips stroking your fleshy thighs. he couldn't resist smiling at the sight of you.

“wanna roll another one?”

#obx #obx x reader #obx imagine #obx fanfiction #obx fic #obx smut #outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks smut #outer banks x reader #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #dealer!rafe

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voidpetrova · 3 months

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jake, johnnie and tara have been tiktokified why did we stop gatekeeping things omf

#jake webber #johnnie guilbert #tara yummy #sam and colby #zach justice #bryan stars #youtube #emo drama or sum

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voidpetrova · 3 months

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RAFE CAMERON hates everyone but you. he can't stand anyone—not sarah, not his father, not the idiots he hung out with. it seemed like everyone was always looking for ways to push all his buttons, except you. wheezie was an honorable mention. you made rafe's life much easier, much better. he loved dealing with you, taking care of you, taking a break from his standard routine to seek his safe place, his person.

what he also loved, more than anything, was fucking you.

“yer creamin' all over my dick, princess,” he practically cooed, the sound of your sweet, delicious moans filling his ears as he continued his assault on your poor cunt. “can't take it? too big for your tight little pussy?” you nodded eagerly, eyes big, red and glossy as you gazed up at him, expecting some sort of cooldown.

a smirked painted his lips as his hand came down in a flash, finding its way around your throat. your eyes widened as he quickened his pace, balls brutally slapping against your clit. “aw, thought i'd show some mercy, huh?” he taunted, laughing at you. tears slid down your cheeks at the overwhelming sensation. “know you're a slut, but you gotta be smarter than that.”

he loved your pussy as much as you lover his dick. he loved the way it could never grow accustomed to his size, to the thickness. each time was a pure warzone for you, the feeling of him splitting your pussy open killing you. he loved the way your walls sucked him in, milked him dry for his cum. he loved the way each slap to your clit made tears well up in your eyes. he loved how wet you were, how you drenched his cock with your sweet juices, how quick you were to squirt all over him, get him all wet and messy.

“so needy for me, aren't you, baby?” he cooed, his grip never loosening as he watched you struggle to breathe. he could feel his dick twitch inside you at the sight of you with tears on your cheeks, all blue in the face. you could only nod in response. “taking my dick so well, hungry little slut.”

he only loosened his grip in order to access the sound of your moans once more. you wailed, body quivering under his touch as he slammed his cock into you. “gonna put a baby in you, yeah?” he knew you liked the idea, like the feeling of your pussy clamping down on his cock was any indication. you nodded, unable to form proper words, but that wasn't enough for rafe. he delivered a harsh slap to your clit, too harsh, even for his liking, causing you to cry out. “answer me, use your fucking words.”

“knock me up, rafey,” you encouraged, voice thick with tears as you raked your nails down his back, so desperately chasing your orgasm. “put a baby in me, 'm gonna give you so many kooks.”

his dick twitched at the sweet sound of your desperation, grunting as he delivered his final deep, long strokes. each hit was delivered with no mercy, every inch of his fat cock bumping into your cervix, tip curving—grazing your most sensitive, sweet spots. your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you came, he had cum at the same time, snarling as he filled you up with cum. the feeling of his hot, sticky seed filling you up pushed you over the edge. he was a sight for sore eyes—growling, naked, covered in nothing but his sweat and your slick.

“hope you don't expect me to pull out anytime soon,” he murmured as he buried his face into the crook of your neck, planting sloppy kisses all over your bare skin. “told you i'd make you a mama.”

#obx #outer banks #obx x reader #obx imagine #obx fanfiction #obx fic #obx smut #obx rafe cameron #rafe outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks smut #outer banks x reader #outer banks imagine #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader

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voidpetrova · 3 months

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your ex-boyfriend, john b. routledge

your ex, john b, who spent his best years with you. three years of being the “it couple” amongst all pogues.

your ex, john b, who didn't let anyone play with his hair, anyone except for you. every warm night spent next to the light of a bonfire was accompanied by a cherished peace, lulling him to sleep by threading your fingers through his locks.

your ex, john b, who attempted to make you chocolate chip cookies once as a surprise. all of them were burnt, first to last, but you ate them with him nonetheless.

your ex, john b, who never let you pay for anything. every drink and meal came from his pocket, anything for you.

your ex, john b, who would throw you into the coast's water. you'd giggle and scream, dunking his head underwater the second he stepped in.

your ex, john b, who would always wake up to the smell of your homemade pancakes.

your ex, john b, who couldn't bring himself to fall asleep at night without spending it in your embrace, in your arms.

your ex, john b, who was quick to introduce the group to a blonde kook. none of you were fond of her.

your ex, john b, who became a bit too close a bit too fast with sarah cameron, for your liking.

your ex, john b, who made it hit mission to argue with you whenever the topic of sarah came up. he defended her name and status, practically begging you to just “give her a chance”.

your ex, john b, who didn't hesitate to embrace a scared sarah during one of the missions, breaking your heart into a million shreds.

your ex, john b, who suggested that it was time for the two of you to part ways, after days of silent treatment.

your ex, john b, who thrived after the break-up. no matter how down you knew you were, seeing him glowing only made it worse for you.

your ex, john b, who got together with sarah shortly after you split, creating constant tension.

your ex, john b, who failed to notice how close you had gotten with jj in the heat of it all. he missed all the late night conversations, early morning coffee runs, and his tear-stained shirts.

your ex, john b, who had started to notice the way you and jj would hug a few seconds too long, the way you would hold hands when you thought no one was looking, and the way he would peer through his blinds to see him parked in front of your driveway. late at night.

your ex, john b, who said nothing when you and jj had announced your relationship. no congragulations, no threats, nothing.

your ex, john b, who began lashing out at his girlfriend shortly after. no one knew why, not sarah, not him.

your ex, john b, who found himself distancing himself from everybody, including sarah. every conversation made him mad, every interaction upset him.

your ex, john b, who found you by the shore past midnight. he had chosen to man up, resulting in the first post-break-up interaction with you. he had asked how you were, earning a minute of silence, before a simple, “happy”.

your ex, john b, who was told alongside kie, sarah and pope, that you had gotten engaged to jj. he had proposed just minutes on the shore, the night prior.

your ex, john b, who couldn't eat, sleep or think after hearing the news. he felt sick to his stomach. sarah knew what was bugging him, she just chose to ignore it, maybe it'd go away.

your ex, john b, who knew he couldn't show up to the wedding. he loved his friend, but he loved you more.

your ex, john b, who spent your wedding night in his house, alone, with the company of no one but a picture of you tucked between the pages of a book.

#obx #outer banks #obx smut #obx x reader #obx imagine #obx fanfiction #obx fic #obx angst #outer banks angst #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks smut #outer banks x reader #john b routledge #john b x reader #john b angst #john b x reader angst #outer banks john b

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voidpetrova · 3 months

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reader & rafe at midsummers/cameron family event and getting in trouble for basically fucking right there bc rafe doesn’t care who sees😩😩😩

put on a show — rafe cameron x reader

☄. *. ⋆ content warning(s) & genre: swearing, softish!bf!rafe, explicit unprotected sex, tit play, spanking, vouyerism, public sex, dirty talk — smut

˚♡ ｡˚ synopsis: they'd give it all up to spend a second in rafe's shoes, with you on their arm, but some wishes do more harm than good

✧.*

oh, to have it all. to have everything you've ever wanted and so much more. to throw money at any problem in your way, to rely on everyone but yourself in order to have what you want. big villas, expensive champagne, fresh seafood, fast cars, pretty women, and parents who never gave a shit about their kids. that was the life you had dreamed of, and the one you were currently living.

on the ocean course of kiawah island, you seemed like nothing but a dazzling accessory on rafe's arm—pure eye candy, all eyes on you, none of the attention on him. everybody was looking at you. midsummer events were made to live in the moment, to rid yourself of stress in order to feel the wind in your hair and the cool summer breeze on your aching tan lines. unfortunately, they were also made to show off by, not saying, but showing—my cars are faster than yours, my mansion is cleaner, my pockets are heavier, and with you standing with someone like rafe? it was only fair to assume you were just a trophy he could show off.

that wasn't the case. nobody had to know it, it was nobody's business but yours amd rafe's. you were well aware of the reputation your boyfriend had gained, the infamous status he had earned through the consequences of his own actions. you had been aware of it from the moment you met him, but you did something for rafe that no one else had done for him. something that had unintentionally broken down his stone cold walls of confinement he had spent his life building, revealing a treasured part of him that no one got to see, but you. you gave him a chance.

you were willing to take the risk. you were willing to sit through his anger issues, his fits of rage. you'd be lying if you said you haven't ended up in tears, sobbing on the cold floor after an argument, after he had gone off the rails once more, but you never gave up on him. he would leave you in an attempt to seek solace on his own, to calm down. each time he was on his way back, he had expected you to be long gone, but you never were. you would always be there, waiting for him with opens arms.

it softened his heart, knowing that someone was willing to put up with his issues. he couldn't put up with his issues, yet you found a way. you found a way past the misconceptions people had of him—past his jealousy, his need to control and manipulate, his fits of pure aggression that often led to threats and punches. you met him at his worst and stuck it out with him. he was still flawed, slightly more than your average kook, but nothing you couldn't handle.

the sun's radiant rays practically bounced off your skin, illuminating your eyes as you gazed up to look at your boyfriend. he was so fond of the sight of you, eyes soaking in admiration as a smile graced his lips. you were so magnetic to him, so stunning. it was a popular opinion amongst both kooks and pogues, but nobody would have you the way rafe did. “how are you feeling?” you murmured, voice gentle as you gestured toward john b's group yards away from the two of you. rafe was tense, you could feel it even as you held his hand, but he shook his head. “it's not worth it.”

he had all the time in the world to go after the pogues, all he wanted to do right then and there, was to spend some time with you. nothing more nor less to it. although, during every event, there always came a pivotal point where rafe's feelings would get the best of him. he would try his best to stay strong, to refrain from causing anybody harm, but sometimes? he had to do this his way, just to make his point. this was one of those times.

“hot for an ex-pogue, that's what i think,” one voice from behind commented. the unfamiliar face was accompanied by two more unfamiliar faces, who also chimed in. “nah, rafe can't handle allat. she's a knockout.” you were a knockout, that was a common fact. rafe was no longer looking at you; his eyes were glued primarily on the group of guys sitting in the background, his blood boiling as he listened to their shared snickers and comments. you desperately called for his attention.

“rafey, come on,” you held onto his hand, tugging at it ever so gently as you frowned, face drenched in worry. if you weren't able to stop him, who knows what would happen? he was capable of just about anything. “don't do anything to them, it isn't worth it.” for a split second, he glanced back at you, face softening the second he saw how worried you really were.

truth be told, in that moment, rafe felt as if he was the most intelligent kook to ever live. every thought about how long he could beat those guys without security coming, and how fun it would be to peel back their nails for every apology they uttered, went right out the window. you were right, they weren't worth it. not in front of everyone, at least. you were worth it. you were the grand prize men spent drooling over the minute you showed up—the same one women spent sneering at. ever since you had gotten together, it had been nothing but the same condescending comments. it pained him as much as it angered him, knowing everyone wanted what was his.

“you're right,” he replied dryly, and you swore his eyes darkened. it was his turn to hold your hand, pulling gently as he turned on his heel. “come with me, princess.”

more confused than worried, you did as you were told, following his tracks as he pushed past all the eager hands and widening eyes glued to you, his grip tightening with every step. he led you down the halls and helped you down the stairs. as the crowd's laughter died down, you neared a secluded room down the hall. you couldn't figure out what it was, for whom it was, but you didn't bother to question rafe as he forced the door open, ushering you inside.

despite the closed door, there was a wide and tall array of windows—more windows than walls themselves, actually. rafe noticed this, muttering a quiet “fuck,” under his breath before leaning against one of the windows. you frowned, walking towards him as you watched everyone outside, analyzing the tiny selections of unaware bystanders. “rafey, what's wrong?” you whispered, the back of your hand caressing his cheek. “can't stand it anymore, (y/n),” he shook his head. “can't stand the way they all leer at you.”

his jealousy had been an ongoing, consistent problem for him all throughout his life. as a kid, he was jealous of the other kids with better shoes. as a teenager, he was jealous of the ones with loving fathers. during his young adult years, all he's been jealous of was the way people stared with watchful eyes, praying that someday you could be theirs instead of his.

“no one else will ever have me,” you assured him, stroking his hair as he gazed up at you. “not the way you have me. not now, not ever. i can promise you that much.”

he loved knowing, despite it all, that you were his. you were his, despite the stares. despite the ongoing, blood-boiling comments. despite the praises and the compliments and the sheer amount of people submitting to you every day, just for an ounce of attention, you were still his. he couldn't make anyone accept it, but he could definitely make them wish they were dead.

“rafey,” you didn't have time to finish, not a second longer. he stood up, hands cupping your jaw as he pressed a kiss to your lips. your eyes fluttered, as if a common reflex, as you kissed him back just as sweetly. the kiss deepened, your mouths melting together as you stepped back, looking for leverage before your back hit the wall. his hands slid up your waist, right up your back as he pushed your arms up against the wall, kiss never coming to a halt.

the air was hot as you moaned quietly against his mouth, put in your place and unable to fight against his grip. he held your arms down with one arm, using the free one to explore every crevice of your body. he traced every curve, hands calloused, cold and rough against the bare, warm skin under your dress. “so perfect for me,” he gasped out, inches away from your mouth as he savored the drool from your lips. he couldn't control himself, rough palm squeezing your barely-clothed tits, thumbing each nipple as he tsked. “almost like you want everyone to stare, yeah?”

you moaned at the sensation, at a complete loss of words. he brought his knee up, sticking it in between your legs. a gasp left your mouth at the feeling of his rough knee, decorated by his dress pants, against your lacy underwear. you couldn't help but rut your hips against his knee, bottom lip tucked between your teeth and mouth open as you chased a friction of any kind. your boyfriend retracted his knee, a smirk playing on his lips as a whine of protest left his lips. “rafey, no—”

“why don't you answer my question first, yeah?” you frowned, eyes glossy as you stared at him. “don't want anyone else to watch, rafey. just you.”

he seemed pleased with your answer, hitching your dress up, the sight of your soaked lacy pink panties causing the strain in his pants to tighten. “i'm so glad to hear that, baby,” he cooed. before you could even smile, you were flipped toward the windows, hands pressed against the glass. “unfortunately, that won't be the case tonight.”

you couldn't even struggle with the position you were in, eyes widening as you realized what he was planning. “you aren't serious, are you?” all you earned at first was a dry laugh in return, but the sound of his pants dropping was enough for you. you caught the sight of him in the mirror, his collared shirt hanging just above his hips, v-line toned and his cock erect in his grey boxers. you swallowed at the sight, failing to catch his smirk. “there a problem, sweetheart?”

his rough hands traced your bare ass, fingers desperately pulling down your panties as he groaned quietly, watching you spread out and bent over for him. a string of slick connected your bare cunt and panties as he slid them down your thighs, and that was enough for him. he slid his own boxers down, sighing as the cool air hit his flushed, painfully hard dick. he brought his palm down against the flesh of your ass, a yelp leaving your mouth as the sting spread across your skin. he couldn't help but laugh.

“careful with those noises, princess,” he nodded toward the window. the one with a picture-perfect view of the inside catastrophe that was unfolding. all it took was for one person to turn around, and a nightmare would come true. “or, don't. let them see and hear how good i fuck you.”

that should have been your warning, because you had absolutely no time to react. not with him pushing into you, his tip squeezing between your tight, wet walls. you gasped, the foreign size intruding sending you into pre-oblivion. “shit, fuck, rafe, 's too big,” you barely croaked out. he groaned loudly, the feeling of your pussy sucking him in raw ready to send him over the edge. he watched the people outside, waiting for someone to finally turn around and get a load of the sight he had especially prepared for them. he wanted them to see past their delusions, realize who you belonged to.

“pussy suckin' me in too good,” he grunted, hands gripping the sweet flesh of your ass as he slowly began to drill your sopping cunt. you moaned at the sudden change, taking in every vein and every inch that fucked into your cervix. “drippin' all over my cock, baby.” his words made you whine, back arching as he watched your cunt engulf his cock whole.

he stared at you wherever he got the chance. his eyes watched the way your back curved for him, the way your ass rippled with every thrust that came your way, the way he'd just look straight and watch your tits jump with every second he spent plowing your cunt. he watched the way your mouth hung open, a string of moans passing your glossy lips. “never gonna get fucked this good,” he growled, and it was a promise. he grabbed a fist full of your hair, twisting and pulling your head back as he leaned in, pressing his lips against your ear. you moaned at the way your scalp tingled, the way he went even deeper, the sound of your pussy squelching accompanying your moans. “let'm know who fucks you this good, princess.”

he didn't have to tell you twice. it was all too overwhelming, anyway. the way he bit your earlobe while pounding your sweet, abused pussy, hitting your sweet spot while his free hand toyed with your tits, twisting and flicking the nipples beforw dropping to your clit, giving generous rubs to your slick, sweet bundle of nerves. “rafe, please, i'm gonna cum,” you moaned, and all he could do was continue, rubbing faster and harder as he continued to pound into you, balls tightening as your cunt gave his dick a sweet, hard squeeze.

he grunted, and looked up and through the window. he watched carefully, eyes scanning the lawn before stopping once the gaze had been returned. he stopped, a devious smirk playing on his face the minute he realized who was staring. the guy from earlier, the one who was so eager to get any kind of reaction from you. he stood there, alongside one of his friends, jaw hanging and eyes wide in pure shock. he gestured with his eyes toward your face, making sure he watched the way your face scrunched up in pure pleasure as he continued to fuck your pussy open. he made sure all of it was seen.

“right behind you, princess.”

#outer banks #obx #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks smut #outer banks x reader #obx smut #obx x reader #obx imagine #obx fanfiction #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe smut #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe imagine #rafe cameron x reader smut

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voidpetrova · 3 months

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“i can fix him,” “i can change him,” oh yeah?? well i can accept him and love him despite being a sister-drowning psychopath smh

#rafe cameron #obx #outer banks #drew starkey #i need rafe biblically #in heat #i’m ovulating

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voidpetrova · 3 months

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a little less lonely II — jj maybank x reader

part one can be found here

☄. *. ⋆ content warning(s) & genre: swearing, slight suggestive themes, alcohol consumption — angst, fluff

˚♡ ｡˚ synopsis: all you wanted from him was an escape, a way out. all he wanted was to show you the way back in.

✧.*

the universe had a way of being cruel, starting up twisted games that nobody really had interest in playing. the night was always much kinder, much more peaceful. full of secrets, more than anything. even as the stars shined, offering a token of temporary peace and quiet, everyone revealed their true colors under the blanket of black.

when your eyes had first fluttered open, there wasn't much for you to register. you flinched, welcoming the pounding headache you knew was awaiting you. it was the first thing you had registered, unable to ignore the way your head screamed, as if telling you off for every decision you had made just hours ago.

you blinked a few times, trying to get yourself together. “fuck,” you whispered under your breath, sighing as the pain spread from the top to the very back of your head. your fingers traced the thick material of your bedsheets, pressing them into your naked flesh as a familiar heat engulfed you. you straighted your neck, positioning yourself on your lower back as your eyes shot to your side.

jj was still asleep, blond hair caressing his forehead as he remained in a peaceful slumber. you couldn't help but smile at him, watching the way he didn't budge, arms still halfway around your waist. you had never seen him more calm, at peace. you sure as hell weren't planning on waking him.

everything that had happened the previous night dawned upon you in a slow, orderly fashion. you reached out for your nightstand, pulling out a pack of cigarettes from the drawer. as you carefully lighted one, you had all the time in the world to think. you had agreed to something stupid, something that would put a permanent fent in your friend group if ever to be exposed. the thought of it sent a shiver down your spine, especially knowing how you and john b were on shaky ground. you took a long drag, careful to exhale away from jj.

whatever happened last night didn't happen for no reason, that didn't go unnoticed. what if there truly was something more to your relationship with jj, something that went above and beyond a rebound? you smoked away as you thought about the way he stroked your hair, the way he held your hand—during such an intimate moment. it could have been a ruse, just a way to keep you in bed. it could have been something more, his way of telling you, he was still yours.

“no invite?” your head snapped in his direction, thoughts disappearing into thin air. his eyes were open, and you couldn't help but wonder how long he had really been staring. “and here i was thinking we were getting somewhere.”

you smiled at him, matching the teasing smile of his own. quick to retrieve your cigarettes and lighter, you held the box of marlboro reds in front of him, allowing him to join you despite having just awoken. “did i wake you up?” he shook his head, morning cigarette pressed between his lips as he brought the lighter in, inhaling the smoke as he lit the tip up. “wish you had, it's kinda late.”

it was only ten in the morning, but you had grown quite fond of waking up around six, you were both usually filled with things to do. you watched him smoke—it was your turn to watch. once he had met your gaze, he couldn't help but smile. “relieved to see you, actually,” he paused, taking a longer drag. “thought you'd be long gone by now.”

your heart sank at his words, smile fading as you peeled your eyes off him. would that have been the better option, letting him wake up to nothing but a cold spot, with no one to talk to? would it have saved you both the pain, leaving before he could gain consciousness? it might have, but you couldn't find it in your heart to leave, almost as if you wanted to stay.

“no reason for that, jay,” you assured, but you didn't know how affective nor comforting your words were. “we're friends, after all. aren't we?”

for a good minute, you earned no response from him. the silence was suffocating, and you had regret the answer the minute it passed your lips. you didn't know whether to say something or not, make up for the obliviously insulting question or not, but jj had decided to fill in the blanks. “that's how we're gonna play, really?” the smile that had been so welcoming just a few minutes prior had faded long ago.

“what do you want me to say, jj?” you sighed as you brought what was left of your cigarette to your lips a final time. you inhaled as much as you could, leave only the filter you were quick to put out. “you've got a girl waiting for you back home.”

he clenched his jaw as he processed your answer. it was almost as if he couldn't believe what you were saying. “can't believe you think i want anything to do eith kiara.” you scoffed, retorting with an answer you had thought of being more light-hearted than anything, but today truly wasn't your day. “why wouldn't i? she's who you left me for.”

the second your answer hung in the air, jj found himself turning around, extinguishing his cigarette before pushing you back down. you were startled, ready to fight him off as he nearly crawled onto you, hands on your chest as he held you down. “jj, what the fuck are you doing?” you struggled under his touch, but he only pushed harder, and you found it impossible to escape his grasp. he did his best to be as gentle as possible, having no interest in harming you.

“i know what i did,” was the first thing he said, and you listened. the smell of cigarettes filled your nostrils. his tone was steady, voice soft. “i'm reminded of it every single day. not by john b, not by you. by me. i wake up every day, and i live with the mistake i made. i've earned your friendship and your forgiveness, but losing you is something i'll never forgive myself for. last night wasn't me rebounding from kiara, but from you. it didn't work all those years ago, and it didn't work now.”

you listened, you were so grateful you did. at a loss for words, all you could do was return his gaze, and wonder how honest he was really being. he had just poured his heart out to you, and in that moment, he wasn't the boy who had cheated on you anymore, just a boy living with the consequences of his own choices. you had gone silent for far too long, earning a sigh from him. in that moment, his grip loosened as he pushed himself off, eyes bathed in disappointment. he had his feet on the floor, spinning around towards the door, ready to leave more than ever.

“jay, don't go,” was all you could utter out. it was enough to stop him in his tracks. “please.”

he faced the door quietly, still prepared for anything despite his stillness. you wrapped the sheet around your bare body once more, now leaning forward. “we can talk about it, don't go. we can figure something out.”

for a second, there was hope. his eyes lit up at your answer, although his hand remained steady on the doorknob. he thought about what you said, heart thumping in his chest. finally, he turned towards you, your eyes locking in an instant. “you really mean that?” his voice was just above a whisper, you couldn't remember the last time you had seen him so vulnerable.

“of course i do,” you assured. “not gonna lie and say i didn't feel anything last night, jj.”

the emotional turmoil you had been experiencing ever since you had agreed to his stupid proposal, was overwhelming. you had gotten so used to the way things had been for so long—you and john b, kie and jj. that's the way it had been for such a long time, it was what everyone had gotten used to. that didn't mean, however, that it was the way things shoul've been. the spark that had been ignited between you and john b was blown out by a cruel fate, but that also meant jj showing up at your door last night was no coincidence.

“oh, yeah?” he murmured, now taking steps right back towards you. “what'd you feel? what do you feel now?” he was inches in front of you, staring down at you as you gazed up at him. your breath hitched in your throat as you searched for the right words to express your dismay. you couldn't get yourself to focus, not with him in front of you, in nothing but his boxers, giving you a better view than anticipated for a moment like this.

jj caught on quickly, a sly smirk painting his lips which only earned an eye roll from you. “i thought all i wanted from you was a good fuck,” you finally admitted. he listened carefully, smirk dropping in an instant as he prayed, and boy did he pray, that a second chance was in the works. “then i woke up, and i didn't see john b. i saw you, and i wasn't disappointed or worried. i was relieved the second i saw you.”

he licked his lips, trying to ignore the way his heart pounded in his chest. he swore he felt it flutter, the way a schoolgirl felt butterflies in her stomach after having her first kiss on a school playground. “would you have felt better if it was john b?” he hesitated, but the question rolled off his tongue like butter.

it wasn't something you had to think about, really. john b had spent a good portion of your relationship fussing over jj, comparing himself to him, tossing meaningless accusations around, it was all too much for the both of you. you would console him each time, assuring him that you and jj had broken up for a good reason, and that you were all his. you had never recovered from jj, that was something you had always known, but never dared to tell john b. you did it for yourself, holding all those feelings back. you couldn't afford to crumble under pressure. “even when i was with him, i spent moments wishing it was you instead.”

it should've been a bad thing—that was his best friend, and you had just broken up, the wounds were still more than fresh. but he couldn't help himself, not while he kneeled in front of you, extending his arms and placing them in your lap as he rested his head. for a minute, everything went quiet. you watched jj with sympathetic eyes, the newfound touch bringing you comfort. “jay,” you didn't have to say anything, eyes widening as his body began to shake, quiet sobs causing his his frame to throb.

“no no no, jay, come on.” you did your best to interfere, to calm him down—at least a little bit. your fingers found themselves tangled in his blond locks before frantically moving down his back, your arms attempting to pull him upwards and into your embrace. during all the years you had known jj, not once had he broken down. not in front of you, or anybody else. he stayed strong, for everybody's sake. this time, he knew he couldn't.

you pulled him into your arms and he didn't fight you, not one bit. he shook like a leaf on a branch, as if his breathing could come to a halt at any second. you said nothing as you listened to the way he cried, face buried in your neck. you could feel tears of your own brewing, no matter how much you wished not to break down. you had to stay strong, for his sake.

“jj, please, it's all okay now,” you cooed, stroking his hair as you blinked back your tears. your voice shook as you spoke, his arms tightening around your waist as you spoke. “i'm here now, jay. i'm back.” he couldn't believe what he was listening to, as if he was living his dreams in an unstoppable loop. even as he looked up at you with glossy, pink eyes while you said it, he couldn't believe it.

“i'm sorry, (y/n),” his voice was meek, you had never witnessed him in such a state. all you could do was smile as he gazed at you, tears spilling down his cheeks. you placed a kiss onto his forehead. “forgave you a long time ago.”

for a while, you stayed like that. with your arms wrapped around his back, him on your chest, and his arms hugging your waist protectively. this had been a decision you could very well come to regret, you were well aware of everything that could go wrong. however, it wasn't something you necessarily cared to think about then and there. not about the past, not about kie, not about john b. you had everything you needed in your arms, helping you feel a little more loved and a little less lonely.

#outer banks #obx #outer banks x reader #obx x reader #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks angst #outer banks smut #obx fanfiction #obx smut #obx angst #jj maybank angst #jj maybank x reader smut #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jj maybank smut

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voidpetrova · 3 months

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you can pretend — rafe cameron x reader

☄. *. ⋆ content warning(s) & genre: swearing, drug abuse, alcohol abuse, substance abuse in general, self-sabotage — angst

˚♡ ｡˚ synopsis: he had nobody to blame but himself, he was his own enemy

✧.*

you can pretend you're getting better, like it's all going away. you can pretend, but the echoes of betrayal linger in the spaces between memories. the shattered fragments of trust lay scattered, a painful mosaic of what was once love. you can pretend you've found a way out, even though you're just going in circles. you can pretend you're not in love, even though it's all you have left.

rafe knew where it all started, he knew the problems he faced wouldn't have existed in the first place if it weren't for him. he was his own worst enemy. giving credit where its due, the road wasn't always rocky. much like any other relationship, the honeymoon phase was short-lived—it was meant to set the tone of your entire relationship. from the parties to the picnics, to meeting your parents, to meeting his friends. the joy was endless, but nothing lasts forever.

the first nine months flew by quickly, which is precisely why what followed hit you like a ton of bricks. it all started with petty arguments—typical stuff—“why aren't the dishes done?” and “you're using again, aren't you?”. these were daily topics, occurences that happened nearly every day—if you went a day without fighting, you'd truly be thanking god. those petty quarrels were kicked up a notch after a few weeks, jealousy issues and making scenes in public. the more rafe used, the harder it was on you, but finally, there was a reckoning.

three months later, and he had finally stopped using. it shocked him more than it had shocked you, but it was done, cold turkey. he spent the next two months sober, and things were finally taking a turn for the best. you were happy, you were both content, as if the honeymoon phase was ready to make a reappearance. all of that went to waste the minute you found out rafe had been cheating those two months.

it wasn't something you had expected, not even from someone like him. you had given him your all—you took care of him, drove him home when he was too wasted to do it himself, bathed him when he was too strung out, cooked for him, stayed loyal to him—things most men dream about. the day you found out, it killed something inside you. you were in physical pain, unable to breathe, you could barely get yourself together.

you left him the next day, quicker than anticipated. the day you confronted him, he had greened out thirty minutes prior. he hadn't registered a single thing you said, despite the screaming and sobbing, not a single word was processed. after that, you made sure you were unreachable. even when topper had filled in the blanks for him, it was too late. no matter the method, he had no way of accessing you. that's when his life truly began to fall apart.

“i feel disgusting,” were the words you had uttered to kiara and sarah. sitting in front of the mirror on your wall, you brushed your hair out, untying the knots and tight ends. despite being his sister, sarah was one of your biggest supporters. she felt for you, and did everything in her power to make you feel better. she exchanged a disappointed glance with kiara as they made her way up to you.

there was truly no way to describe your beauty, something that couldn't be put into words. it was one of the many reasons nobody believed rafe had it in him to cheat, it took a lot of convincing. “you have never been disgusting,” kiara assured, brushing loose strands of your hair down past your shoulder. “you can't let this ruin you, not this. not him.”

sarah couldn't help but nod in agreement, meeting your eyes in the mirror. “besides,” she rested her chin on your shoulder, offering a sweet smile. “now you've got the best excuse to come to the party tonight, don't you?” you returned the smile, you had to. they were your dear friends, and you knew all they wanted was the best for you. though hesitant, you nodded in agreement.

rafe had no interest in hosting any parties with his friends. in fact, rafe had no interest in anything anymore. he laid, spread out on his couch, another can of beer in one hand, a blunt in the other. topper and kelce had been concerned since the day the break-up took place. they had resorted to persuading both parties, in fact, with no positive results.

“you gotta stop that man, it's enough,” kelce commented, his tone genuine. rafe's eyes were bloodshot as he shot him a glance. he couldn't sleep, his mind wouldn't let him. the guilt would eat him alive, unless he had something in his system. the lack of your presence was replaced by each line he snorted, each pill he took, each whore he paid for a good time. but the feeling would always come back. he sneered at his friend, “i'll decide when it's enough.”

the kook party started off as a lavish affair held in their beachfront mansion. the atmosphere was opulent, with elegant decorations and dimmed lights creating a sophisticated ambiance. guests were dressed in upscale attire, sipping on exotic cocktails while a live band played smooth tunes. the air was filled with laughter and the occasional clinking of glasses as attendees enjoyed the extravagant setting overlooking the ocean. it exuded an air of exclusivity, with a mix of socialites and high-society figures mingling in an upscale celebration.

“party's a shitshow,” rafe snapped, teeth grinding as he held onto the bathroom's sink with both hands, knuckles whitening. he only glanced in the mirror for a split second, no longer. he had reached his breaking point, unable to stand the sight of himself in the mirror. one hand was lifted, giving him less leverage, but just enough for him to swipe his credit card from his pocket, arranging lines amongst the white powder on the sink's edge. the first line went by in a flash, his nostrils searing with an amazing pain. the second went by just as fast, along with the third.

he blew the excess powder off the sink, watching it blend in with the atmosphere. knowing he would need time for the effects to kick in—for his head to spin fast enough to rid him of his focus, all the problems he had been facing. his main one, the one he had been struggling with for as long as he could remember. he couldn't face you, he couldn't stand the sight of you. it made his stomach churn and his blood boil, knowing he was his own worst enemy.

as he left the bathroom, he could feel his heart pounding in his ears. he ignored the crowd that surrounded him, the hands reaching out to greet him, the voices calling out to him, asking if he was alright. he could feel his chest rising heavily, eyebrows furrowed as if trying to block the upcoming headache. he moved past everybody as fast as he could, desperate for fresh air. if he had known what awaited him outside, he would've asked god to take him right then and there.

you were wrapped in a mesmerizing blend of gold and baby pink, adorned with delicate lace that mimiced the intricate patterns of ocean waves. the short length accentuated your legs, and the subtle shimmer added a touch of ethereal beauty. you wore it with confidence, your radiance enhancing the dress's allure, creating a stunning ensemble that captured everyone's attention. you were radiant, pushing your hair down your shoulder as you chatted with jj and pope, allowing them to relax you as much as they could. they knew how nervous you were.

everybody did. rafe could see it, too. he stood there, yards away, frozen in his tracks. for the first time in a long time, he didn't feel anger. it was a feeling that couldn't be described—a painful melancholy that would drive him to tears instead of the nearest bottle of expensive liquor. he couldn't move, no matter how much he wanted to. he stayed there, eyes glued to you, watching every move you made.

you were all he had, all he would ever have. even when he knew he didn't have you.

#obx #outer banks #obx fanfiction #obx x reader #obx angst #outer banks angst #outer banks x reader #outer banks fanfiction #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x reader angst #rafe cameron x reader smut #rafe cameron smut

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voidpetrova · 3 months

Text

a little less lonely — jj maybank x reader

part 2 can be found here

☄. *. ⋆ content warning(s) & genre: swearing, alcohol consumption, adultery mentioned, rebounding, one-sided feelings, explicit sexual content under the cut: unprotected sex, creampie, tit play, overstimulation, squirting — angst, smut

˚♡ ｡˚ synopsis: what better way is there to heal a broken heart than over-complicating things with just a few glasses of wine to start things off?

✧.*

things had never been so complicated. under any normal circumstances, people found themselves drawn in by the beauty of the carolina coast. so eager to strip themselves of their everyday stress, all they seeked was a temporary sense of peace—an artificial promise that everything would be alright. maybe not right then and there, because all those problems found a way out the minute sunny, warm skies and salty waves came into the picture. the people were friendly, despite the tension. the food was great, as was the company. there was no better example of the perfect place.

however, bad luck had a way of clinging to those who found themselves with no way out, not even on earth's paradise.

you were never able to figure out where it all went wrong with john b. no matter how many hours you spent thinking about it, let alone distracting yourself from it, you failed to point out where exactly the bridge began to shake. the possibilities were endless. did it have anything to do with sarah's sudden presence amongst the group itself? did it have anything to do with growing tensions between him and rafe? he could've been drained, you could've just grown apart. in the end, he offered no explanation when he chose to end things with you. it was a swift, clean cut.

to be frank, you were feeling quite zen with the entire situation. despite having spent two full years with him, it truly didn't affect you as much as you expected. if you were asked about it two years ago, you'd have thought your life would fall apart. when the moment finally came, you accepted it with a gracious heart, no matter how much you truly yearned for him. you loved him, there was no denying it, but you knew you had no say in the decisions he made. you knew that from the second you met him.

you found yourself in front of his doorstep, offering a few quiet knocks to the wooden door. up until that point, he had returned a two full boxes of a few of your personal belongings he had grown to collect throughout your relationship. a third box with your name on it was waiting for you, just on the other side.

when the door opened, you found yourself face-to-face once more. you offered him a kind smile, gazing up at him. it was impossible to read his expressions, to tell what and how he was feeling. perhaps stoic, maybe sympathetic, even. his eyes were almost soulless, despite the smile he returned.

“hey,” you broke the silence, clasping your hands together. “you have the box, right?” he showed no interest jn accompanying your dialogue, offering only a small nod in response before turning on his heel, heading towards the box. you bit your lip, as if ashamed for giving in so fast, it definitely chipped away at the zen you were feeling just a few minutes prior. thankfully enough, your thoughts didn't offer much consolation for long. loud, angry, familiar voices pierced your ears, you couldn't help but turn in the direction of the source.

the last person you had expected was to see jj, someone you had spent a good portion of your life dating despite the messy ending. you had spent a decent five years with him, no matter how bad the last few months were. he was somewhat of a childhood best friend, with the two of you growing up in the same area, both of your fathers being best friends. after a while, perhaps just before puberty, you grew distant, but when the growth spurts finally hit, you were inseparable. he was your first boyfriend, and you were his first girlfriend. you had gone through so much together, teaching each other the rights and wrongs of a relationship, and you truly expected it to last. everybody did. all of that joyous hope went to waste when he met kiara, leading to the ultimate decision of throwing five years in the water for a cheap one-night stand, which eventually led to a serious relationship over the course of a few days. needless to say, no matter how angry and heartbroken it left you, you remained civil—for everybody's sake.

much like every other day, he wasn't alone. you squinted your eyes amidst the sun's beaming rays, making out kiara's frame trailing behind him, down the stairs of the house's front porch. there was all too much screaming from her side, frantic arm waving, long strings of curses. however, jj wasn't hesitant to retort. you couldn't tell what the argument was about, but the way he stormed off and climbed into the white, worn-out travel van could only tell you one thing—whatever they had going on, was over.

you turned around once again, only this time, returning john b's stare. he had come back, arms wrapped around the box. you didn't know how long he had been standing there, you were more focused on the way the top of the box was sealed shut, your name written atop in big, black letters. “damn, at least we aren't acting like them.” it was your subtly unsubtle attempt to lighten the mood, but no matter how subtle you could be, all john b responded with was a shrug—before closing the door, right in your face.

it wasn't necessarily a feeling of defeat, as much as it was a sign that you needed a glass of wine in your system as fast as possible.

when the sun had finally set, the moonlight gladly took its place, casting shadows alongside your trailer park. you were sat on your dining room chair, a bathrobe hugging you warmly as you crossed your legs, admiring the bottle of cheap wine calling your name. there really wasn't much negotiating needed to win you over—you found yourself reaching for the bottle before you even began thinking about it. maybe that was all you really needed for the zen to reach its full potential.

all that potential may as well have gone to waste when you heard the doorbell ring, a feeling of unease settling. nonetheless, no matter how ticked off, you clutched the front of your bathrobe tightly as you treaded toward the door. “who is it?” you called out, once in front of the door. a sigh was heard at first, but you didn't know what to expect anymore. perhaps john b, perhaps another one of your friends coming in to offer their condolences.

“it's your ex-boyfriend!” the familiar voice practically chirped. of all the unexpected guests you could have had, this one really took the cake. you rolled your eyes as you hesitantly reached for the doorknob. “jj, what do you want?” you were taken aback once you opened the door, taking a step back when you got a good look at jj, two suitcases by his side and a bag slung over his shoulder. he offered you a friendly smile, accompanied by an almost nervous wave.

“you saw the shitshow today, i presume,” he let out a nervous laugh, free hand reaching to scratch the back of his neck. “kiara and i just broke up.”

maybe your conscience truly was getting the best of you, or maybe you were healing. whatever it was, it made you sympathize with him. no matter what the past stated, you couldn't help but return the smile, opening the door just a little bit more as you stepped aside. you knew they've had their fair share of arguments, but you never really expected them to break up. not yet, at least. “oh, well, come on in.”

his gratitude wasn't immediately evident, not as much as his shock. he expected many things, from more yelling to bag-throwing and even hissy fits, but not any acts of kindness.

in no time, you found yourself in his company, right on the chair next to you, and it was time to crack the bottle open. he couldn't help but laugh, seeing you so eagerly fiddle with the corkscrew. it wasn't in a taunting matter, despite the look you shot him, but rather in pale admiration. you had poured yourselves each a glass as you brought your knees back up to your chest, awaiting further explanation from him.

“sorry to come over on such short notice, but i couldn't face going to a motel.” you raised an eyebrow, shooting him a playful look. “that's okay,” you murmured in response, tracing the shape of your glass before leaning it in for another sip. “is there a reason you're crashing here and not at john b's?”

he shrugged, clasping his hands together quietly as he stared into his glass, watching the ripples and bubbles the pale yellow liquid provided. “didn't feel like dealing with his shit today,” he licked his lips as he paused, eyes flickering between you and the glass, as if hesitant. “also, sarah was with him. didn't feel like dealing with her shit either.” the unexpected mention of her name sent a sharp twinge in your chest, and you couldn't help the silent feeling of defeat from pressing into your chest. jj definitely noticed it, his following look all too sympathetic as he watched you down the rest of your wine.

“am i allowed to ask what happened?” you finally broke the silence, head tilted to the side as you locked eyes once more. he laughed, but there was nothing funny about it. “you could ask, but i won't tell.” you quirked an eyebrow up, his tactics all too familiar as you shot him a look of disappointment.

“why not?”

“'cause it's embarrassing.”

“jj, did you cheat again?”

“no,”

“did she cheat?”

“nope,”

“you finally saw her without any makeup?”

it was his turn to shoot a disapproving look of his own, but neither of you could hold back the laughter that followed. despite it all, he shook his head, signalling that the break-up truly must've been something much deeper. “are you okay?” this was the first of your questions that was truly genuine. he nodded, once more. “yeah,” he responded, grabbing ahold of the bottle, filling your glass up alongside his. “it hadn't been working for quite a while. this was inevitable.”

you knew exactly what he meant by that, exactly what he was talking about. it was as if you, too, had sensed quite a while ago that a bad ending was written in the stars for you and john b. “well, these days anybody going through a break-up gets my sympathy.”

jj clicked his tongue before taking another swig of the wine. truly, he had been used to beer up until this point. the taste of grape brought back memories—how you would always have a bottle or two in your fridge while you were together. “that's right,” he responded, leaning back in his chair. “i heard johnnie boy lost feelings.” despite how painful it felt hearing everybody's thoughts out loud, you couldn't help but laugh bitterly. “no, johnnie boy lost love. found it somewhere else.”

it wasn't supposed to be a personal attack on jj's behalf, but the shoe definitely fit. his eyes were filled with a sorrow you never sought to uncover, guilt tugging at his heartstrings. “so, there will be no gloating from me.” you proudly continued, shooting him a smile as you raised your glass. he returned the smile, clinking away with his own glass. “well, here's to no gloating.”

you had explained to him that you were trying to keep a positive outlook on the whole thing, no matter how much it ate away at your pride. you talked and talked, and all he wanted to do was listen. “i even started writing last night,” you continued, downing what was left in what was definitely your fourth glass of wine. “and, well, i think there's a potential book in there.”

he couldn't fight off the pride he felt for you. “a book, really?” you nodded, the last of the bitter juices coating your tongue. “about all my failed relationships.” jj laughed appreciatively.

“you're not writing about me, are you?” he teased, earning him nothing but a humorless retort. “please, you're like the first fourteen chapters.” he grinned, even though he knew what was awaiting him.

“are you gonna be fair?” he asked teasingly. you nodded, just an edge of irony to your words. “i'm gonna be honest.” he feigned a worried sigh at your response, offering a displeased look, “i was afraid of that.”

it was nice to finally get some things off your chest, it was nice having someone to talk to, even if it was your ex-boyfriend. it felt like time was flying, and everything that had been bothering you up until then disappeared. “give me your glass, gotta finish this bottle off,” he insisted, gesturing toward what was left of the bottle, but you couldn't. shouldn't, really. “no way, jj, four glasses is my limit.” you made a weak, tipsy attempt at snatching the bottle away, but he was two steps ahead of you, pulling it away and coming to face you, as if he had a business proposition.

“if you help me finish off this bottle, i'll tell you what happened between me and kiara.” he was good, really good. you couldn't resist it, perhaps his story would provide at least some consolation. “hit me.” and so, he did.

you sipped away at your fifth glass of wine, ignoring the way your mind went fuzzy as the taste overwhelmed your senses once again. once jj had seen how dedicated you were, he smiled. “kiara was making the bed, and found a picture i kept under the mattress,” you shot him a look of surprise as you brought the glass back up to your lips. “a picture i didn't want her to see.”

“what kind of picture?” you questioned, a genuine edge of curiosity to your tone. your first guess would have been some sort of dirty magazine. your only guess, really, but kiara never seemed like the type to make such a big fuss over that. jj lowered his gaze along with the empty glass, only to lock eyes with you, once more.

“it was a picture of you,” he finally admitted. “it's something i like to take a look at every now and then.”

you didn't know how to respond. for the first time in a long time, jj had left you speechless. your reaction wasn't negative by any means, as much as shocked. you could only utter out a small “wow,” with truly nothing else to say. your eyes remained locked as you stared at the man you had once loved more than anyone else in the world, the same one that had truly messed you up in the long run. despite all of it, you harbored no hatred toward him whatsoever. not even to the extent where you found him leaning in, something you would've definitely pushed him away for. the only problem was that you didn't push him away, you found yourself returning the kiss.

however, you were the first to pull away, vision blurry as you both filled each other's ears with drunken laughter. “what the hell was that?” your tone was all but stern. jj leaned back once more. “that was something i've been wanting to do for quite some time.”

you couldn't help but roll your eyes at the stupid sentiment, despite the shared laughter. “oh, that's just you rebounding from kiara.” he shrugged, although he knew it was far from the truth. “so, you're on the rebound from johnnie boy. no harm, no foul.”

what really tipped the scale of morality for you was the fact that you truly had nothing against his proposal. you let out a sigh, “jj, it would be so weird.” he was quick to cut you off before you could rest your case. “we're two old friends who suddenly find themselves single, nothing weird about us helping each other out to be,” he paused, as if trying to find the write words. “a little less lonely.”

resisting would have been the appropriate thing to do. whether the answer was to push him back or pull away, the right thing would've been to resist. it wasn't right, no matter how good it felt or how familiar his touch was, it was morally wrong. it was wrong to use each other, it was wrong to go behind john b's back, just as kiara's. they were your friends. jj was your friend. it didn't matter, because neither of you resisted.

your mouths melded together, creating an all too familiar intimate connection, the air crackling with intensity. you couldn't help but succumb to his magnetic pull, allowing him to weave his fingers into your soft locks of hair. “shit, jay,” you exhaled through a moan, and it was the first time in a long time he's heard thst nickname. it's been years since he's heard it from you. he tapped at your lips with his tongue, eagerly awaiting your access. you gladly obliged, every gram of the guilt that had been building up, finally washing away as he continued to pursue you.

he wrapped his arms around your thighs, sliding you off the chair and into his grasp, not once breaking the kiss. you gasped, saliva trickling down your chin as jj stumbled drunkenly, barely getting it together as he located the entrance to your bedroom. when you fell onto the bed, the kiss finally came to an end, but it was only the beginning. with your head on your pillow and jj on top of you, heat coursed through your veins.

his lips attached themselves to your jaw, peppering kisses along the thin layer of skin. you whined, fingernails gliding down his clothed back as he sucked at your sweet spots. he could read you like a book, knew all of your weaknesses—all of your sweetest, most sensitive points. his tongue travelled further down your neck, veiny hands pulling apart the front of your robe, giving him access to your chest. you swore you heard him growl, but your own moans seemed to block out his noises as he took a tit into his mouth, the rough surface of his tongue circling your nipple before enfulfing the flesh whole.

he was hard, so painfully hard. you knew it, felt it, while he rutted his hips against your bare legs, erection hard against your soft skin. he whined, although he'd never admit it to anyone else. you were all he needed, this was all he'd been waiting for all those years.

“he ever get you wet like this?” the question came out before he could stop himself. there was a specific edge to his voice, a silver lining between curiosity and possessiveness. you couldn't bring yourself to answer, not while he had a hand fondling your tits so roughly, pushing and pinching, the latter rubbing your bare cunt, fingers almost immediately drenching themselves in your juices. all you could do was shake your head.

he was satisfied with the answer, enough to move onto his own clothes. he kept his gaze on your frame, wetting his lips as he took you in—tits bare and hanging out, bite marks littered around your nipples, robe untied, sweat trickling down your stomach, legs spread with your sticky juices coating the outside of your cunt. he peeled his shirt off, followed by the shorts and boxers he had dropped to his ankles.

eager. that's what he was. there was nothing romantic about the way you felt, eyes glued to his dick. you hadn't felt any of it all these years, and though it may have been the alcohol talking, you needed him more than ever. “jay, please,” how was he supposed to say no to such politeness? it wouldn't have been right, not with the way your desperate pleas made him want to ruin all of you.

that's exactly what he had in mind. he grabbed his shaft, lining it up with your entrance, a sigh of relief passing his lips the second he felt your slick coating his tip, and he hadn't even put it in yet. you bit your lip, knowing what was coming, hands pulling him in by his back. with every inch you took, more and more moans spilled out of your mouth. once again, he found himself peppering kisses. this time, on your cheeks. he cooed in your ear, telling you it'd be better soon. “just a few seconds, baby. little more and you'll feel so good,” he slurred.

he was never one to lie. the more you relaxed, the deeper he allowed himself to go. “fucking shit,” he growled, throwing his head back at the familiar feeling of your warmth. you took him well, walls clinging to his shaft, giving him barely the space he needed. you couldn't hold your moans back, and you knew your paper thin walls on the tiny island would do you no justice.

with your nails clawing at his back. he grabbed your legs, placing them over his shoulders to get a better angle going. your eyes practically rolled into the back of your head at the feeling. he drilled into your sopping cunt, hips snapping at an impeccable pace as he chased his high. his balls slammed against your clit, along with his thumb as he pushed his palm into your lower belly, smirking at the way he could practically feel his dick in there. his thumb rubbed at your clit, eliciting the sweetest moans he'd ever hear.

he watched your cunt swallow him whole, the foreign feeling making both of your heads spin. your eyes widened as jj picked up the pace, your heart racing at what was awaiting you. “jj, i gotta pee,” you whined, feet making an attempt to push him away, but it was no use. he shushed you, pressing down on your lower stomach once more. “that's it, fuck.” he quickened his pace, fingers aching as he abused your clit. your orgasm hit you like a brick. your mouth hung open but you remained inaudible, the only focus point being the way your legs shaked as your juices dripped down his shaft.

to add fuel to the fire, instead of stopping, jj began rubbing your clit a second time, flesh slicking the bundle of nerves up with your wetness. he was close, even closer after watching you cum all over his cock. “such a mess.” he teased, and he wasn't wrong. your sheets were soaked, your vision blurry, his pelvis dripping with your arousal.

“hurts so bad.” the sympathy he felt was overwhelming, but he couldn't stop now. he used his free hand to stroke your hair, moving lose strands out of your face. “give me one more, i’m about to cum, baby.” the overstimulation made your eyes water, hips stuttering to meet his powerful thrusts. all he could do was abuse the soft spot inside you, and it didn’t take long before you both came. he buried his face in your neck as he came, burying his cock into your pussy as he emptied all the cum he had to offer, hips stuttering as he moaned. you couldn't pull yourself together at all, head spinning as you did your best to recover.

when he did pull out, you found yourselvee sitting in silence. you were too tired to say anything, only able to turn to your side, eyes begging to be closed. you didn't mind the silence as much as jj did, he watched you closely.

he knew this would be the last of your interactions. he'd go back to kiara, you'd go back to john b. that's the way things would always be, and he knew that. he hated the thought of it, it left him feeling empty. unfulfilled. there was nothing he could do except make the most of the time he had left with you, wrapping his arms around your bare body and pulling you in close as he fought his tears back.

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voidpetrova · 3 months

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YOURE BACK!!! WE MISSED YOU🥹🥰

STOP I MISSED ALL OF U EVEN MORE U HAVE NO IDEA I'M SO HAPPY TO BE BACK <33

#i love this app

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voidpetrova · 3 months

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authority — rafe cameron x reader

☄. *. ⋆ content warning(s) & genre: swearing, objectification, mild aggression, very intimate and explicit sexual content described, choking, degradation — smut

˚♡ ｡˚ synopsis: he can't help the fact that he's obsessive, practically delusional as much as sociopathic, but you love him. no matter how controlling he could be.

✧.*

control, it's extraordinary the tactics people employ to obtain it. some rely on deception, while others engage in outright trickery. then there are those who resort to extortion. a good amount of people? fear, it's an emotion they feed off. why do we fight so hard for control? because, we know to lose it, is to put our faith in the hands of others. and what could be more dangerous?

the coastal winds whispered secrets as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the outer banks. in the quaint beach town, where the search for gold led to twists of fate, another tale unfolded—unseen, yet pulsating with the undercurrents of possessiveness and obsession. for as long as you could remember, you've been caught in the crossfire of rafe cameron and his turbulent emotions. it wasn't something you had a particular problem with, you never made a big deal about it. sure, it ticked you off, there was no denying that, but you knew fighting it off was no use.

whether it was a skirt that was just a few inches too high, or a top that revealed a bit more cleavage than anticipated, not much was necessary to send rafe off the rails. it was apart of him, consuming him more with every upcoming day. of course, he'd have to face the consequences of his actions later on, and he always felt bad. sometimes, his aggression would be laid on a tad too thick, unnecessarily hurtful comments leaving you in tears. he would always make up for it, wrapping you in his arms, consoling you and kissing your tears away. however, in the heat of the moment, if his buttons were pushed just right, there was no going back.

on this particular night, it was just a few minutes past midnight. you had spent the past half hour preparing for a girls' night out with rafe's sister. you were already late as is, listening to the tv blaring as your boyfriend watched a movie on the living room, carefully staying focused as your phone lit up with messages from sarah. you slipped into a short, stylish dress that hugged your curves, unable to shake the feeling that every thread of fabric would invoke a storm within rafe. this time, you knew exactly what you were doing, you knew exactly which cards would be dealt, and you couldn't wait.

the air hummed with tension as you descended the staircase of the mansion, the soft click of your heels echoing through the grand foyer. you knew the minute silence struck, with the movie coming to a pause, that you would soon be in for it. you took a final step down thr stairs, making your way into the living room, your stomach in knots.

rafe was spread out on the couch, head resting on his elbow with his legs kicked back. at first he didn't turn around, the silence in the room practically suffocating. he knew you were going out, you had informed him earlier, but he wasn't particullarly fond of your decision. after that, you had spoken a total of two sentences, perhaps. when the scent of your strong perfume filled his nostrils, he couldn't help but finally turn around. his eyes locking onto you with an intensity that mirrored the swirling tempests off the carolina coast.

his voice, laced with a certain edge to it, sliced through the silent atmosphere. “where do you think you're going, looking like that?” the moonlight seeping through the cracks of the windows played on his features, emphasizing the dark intensity in his eyes. it was as if the mere sight of you in that dress threatened the fragile equilibrium he desperately clung to.

you feigned a sigh, your gaze unwavering. “told you i was going out, didn't i?” you knew you were going to play your part, but you knew rafe could only handle small doses of your attitude. his eyebrows perked up at your tone. “it's a nice dress, isn't it?” his jaw tightened, involuntarily, in fact, eyes low and heavy as they scanned you from head to toe.

there was no denying it, it was a gorgeous dress. a black one, clinging onto your body thanks to the straps on your shoulders. it showed more cleavage that necessary, hugging every crevice and curve perfectly. the way it stopped just inches above your knees only added insult to injury. he hated it, he hated how good you looked.

he cleared his throat, anger bubbling in the pits of his stomach. blood coursed through his veins, he could practically feel it, heat rushing towards every part of his body possible. he adjusted his position, kicking his feet off the couch in order to face you, as if serious. “you think 'm gonna let you go out lookin' like that?” he practically taunted, tone laced with venom. you shrugged, sliding one leg behind the other as if you were truly innocent, but you knew exactly what you were doing.

“well, my drinks don't pay for themselves, don't you know?” control was slipping through his fingers like sand, and the storm within him brewed. even the tranquil beauty of the outer banks couldn't make up for the storm of pure shit rafe was more than ready to unveil. “is that so?” he countered, the venom replaced with a low edge that sent a shiver down your spine. he was standing now—the faster your heart would beat, the closer he would come towards you. you could only nod in response in spite of how weak you were in the knees.

he was in front of you in a matter of seconds, the distance of a mere few inches separating you from him. his eyes bore into your frame, admiring how small you were in comparison, how frail you seemed. you met his eyes, as if to challenge him. “let me tell you somethin', sweetheart,” you didn't have time to react, he never gave you time—he wasn't exactly that gracious. before you could make any sudden movements of your own, you found yourself facing the cold exterior of the wall, cheek pressed against the rough surface. the brutal force of rafe's every move held you down, pushing you even deeper into the wall, with one of his hands making its way from your back to your face, wrapping around your jaw, his palm now pressing into your mouth, the weight preventing you from digging your grave more than you already have—you truly thought you would suffocate, eyes widening as his other hand held both of yours, straining and pushing down with a force you knew would leave bruises the morning after.

you were completely at his disposal, and you haven't even started yet. your eyes shot down to your phone, tucked into the side of your panties due to the lack of pockets. your handbag had been an innocent bystander, taking up space on the living room table. rafe lowered his head, tilting yours slightly upward in order to gain access to your ear. “guess you'll have to cancel with sarah,” he practically purred, removing his hand, only for a split second, to turn your phone off. his hand was cool against your flushed skin, fingertips grazing your bare thigh as he snatched your phone from underneath your panties, eager to rid you both of his sister's annoyance. “thought they had a policy against sluts, anyway.”

you scoffed, despite your compromising situation and position. “yeah? you should see how fond they are of me down there.” you knew you'd regret your words the minute they left your mouth, and rafe made sure of it. in a matter of seconds, you were back to facing him. he had let go of your hands, only to wrap his fingers around your throat, turning you around with such force, your back was slammed against the wall. once again, you were forced to meet his gaze, dark eyes boring into yours. for the first time in a long time, you were afraid.

“you must've forgotten who's in charge here,” he laughed, but there wasn't a trace of humor in it. his grip on your throat tightened, as if he knew you'd add fuel to the fire with your response. “must've forgotten that sluts have no place here, let alone a say in what goes.”

it was shameful to admit that his words sent a stroke of heat down your core, it was a disgrace. you felt filthy, his grip tightening with each passing second—it was supposed to teach you a lesson, scare you into listening, but you couldn't help the way it made you feel. it was something he picked up on, you could tell by the slight smirk playing on his lips. “don't even know why i bother with you,” he continued, as if he was doing it on purpose. “you love the attention, don't you? love getting put in your place like a bitch in heat.” you couldn't answer, weakly nodding, unable to stand against the truth. he saw right through you.

his grip loosened, but remained in place. his thumb trailed up your chin, pulling your lower lip down as he smeared your lipstick into your skin. he loved the sight of you, knowing it never took much to make a mess of you, thumb tapping against your lip. your throat was in steady recovery, but you parted your lips, making room for him. he grunted, unable to resist the way your mouth welcomed him so openly, sucking away at his thumb. he pulled back, only for a second, smearing your spit against your dimples, your chin. he loved the way you gave in so easily, letting him to you do whatever crossed his mind.

“such a mess for me, and here i thought you were going out tonight,” he practically purred in your ear, fingers slick with your spit as it travelled down to your panties as he awaited a response. you couldn't help but whimper, the feeling of his wet fingers against your clothed core sending you into tame bliss. he pressed his index finger against your slit, rubbing and silently admiring how wet you were for him. wet was an understatement, every slight touch had you soaking.

“so wet for me,” he groaned, pushing your lace to the side as a fresh wisp of cool air hit your now bare cunt. your back remained pressed against the wall, a single leg sliding upwards, knee digging into his chest to grant him further access. “please, rafe,” you exhaled in anticipation, growing heat making it insufferable for you.

“such attitude just a few minutes ago,” he taunted, but even he had his priorities set straight, more focused on the uncomfortable strain in his pants than your prior retorts. he had his free hand around the back of your neck, pulling you in for a kiss while his other hand worked for him. you couldn't resist him, locking lips eagerly as your fingers pulled his hair ever so gently. he took that as his sign, index finger pushing past your walls before he kicked up a pace of his own.

the moans that left your mouth were delicious as a second finger joined the process. eventually, a third. his lips trailed down your jaw, too eager to stay in one place, before moving down to your collarbone. his hand had started to ache, pace quickening as he fucked you open with his fingers. no matter how many times you had sex—you were like rabbits—under any circumstances, no prep was enough for the size of his dick. every time, no matter how many fingers prepared you for what was coming, it was never enough. the pain was unbearable, the pleasure unmeasurable.

once he knew you were ready, he retracted his fingers despite your protesting whimpers. “don't you worry, baby,” he uttered out frantically, fingers desperately unbuckling his jeans, all too eager to rid himself of his clothes. “'m gonna take good care of you.”

the absolute sight of him had your mouth watering. his hair was slick with sweat, chest heaving as he took himself into his hand, thumb spreading his precum alongside the head, coating it with a thick layer. he spat onto his hand, grunting as he slicked his dick up, jacking it to coat it up evenly. it wasn't enough for him, his hand was never enough. he needed you more than you needed him.

“turn around,” it was a command, not a question, and you were to do as you were told, cheek once again pressed against the wall's rough surface. he sighed as he took in the sight of you, ass bare and back arched for him. “that's my girl.”

he hadn't planned on showing any mercy, he sure wasn't going to. under normal circumstances, he'd have given you at least a few seconds to adjust, but you knew that wasn't the case the minute his tip pushed past your slippery walls. the tip was only in for a split second before the rest of his length accomodated it. you couldn't bite any of your moans back, fingernails scraping the wall in front of you. rafe knew he wouldn't last long, not with the way your pussy was squeezing him, or the way you moaned his name. you engulfed him, swallowing his dick hole, the familiar sensation chipping away at your pride.

he held your hips down as he fucked you with long, deep strokes that made your head spin. “so fuckin' tight, holy shit,” he groaned, hips snapping as he watched the way his dick slid out, just to slide right back in. the entire sensation consumed you—the way you could feel every vein against your walls, alongside his length slamming into your cunt, in and out. you felt him outside as much as you did inside. “so wet for me.” you were practically dripping all over him, your cries bouncing off the walls as his grip dropped to your ass, grabbing onto the meat for leverage before disappearing, only to come back with a harder, rougher smack. he watched the way your ass bounced against his pelvis, turning the prettiest shade of red, as if encouraging him.

in any case, it worked. as if possible, his pase quickened as he arched his own back, allowing him to go as deep as he could, balls bouncing against your ass to accompany your cries of pure nirvana. his heart was in his stomach, he knew he was close. all he wanted to do was fill you up and all you wanted to do was get filled up by him. you loved the way he made you feel, with his tip hitting your sweet spot, sending tears down your cheeks while his shaft filled in the blanks, leaving you filled to the brim with his thick dick.

he never warned you beforehand, he didn't have to. as soon as his thrusts grew sloppy, but remained desperate, you knew he was close. a string of curses passed his lips, and that was all you had to hear in order to brace yourself, giving his dick a final squeeze before his hips began to stutter, cock twitching frantically in the deepest pits of your cunt before he let go. you both cried out, his left hand pulling your hair towards him as he buried himself in as deep as possible, painting your walls with his hot, sticky cum.

you couldn't move, you didn't dare to. he took the first step, dick still buried inside you, it almost pained him. his hot breath tickled the lobe of your ear, provoking you in the best way possible, once more. “sweetheart, you just lost the authority you never had.”

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