Rafe Angst - Tumblr Posts

Sundress

When you first started dating Rafe, you didn’t think his obsession with you in sundresses was so real until you dragged him out shopping with you.

You pranced around in a short golf skirt and a tight polo at the country club with him and his frat-boy friends. Sure, you enjoyed the mai-tai part, and seeing your boyfriend's arm flex every time he swung the golf club, but spending 18 holes at the golf course under the hot sun quickly got rid of the perks.

________

“Come on Rafe, I golfed all of yesterday with you, Kelce, and Topper. Can you please just take me shopping once?”, you pleaded.

Rafe chuckled, “You call hitting the golf ball into a tree and pouting at how long the game was taking golf?”

Glaring at him, you got closer to him, fixing his shirt collar and negotiating, “I’ll let you buy me a golf skirt and you can teach me how to play sometime, yeah?”

You knew him too well- this comment would just remind him of how cute you looked on the course, and how your skirt would rise every time you’d bend over to swing your golf club. Sighing, he gave in, knowing he could never deny you when you looked at him like that.

In your second hour of shopping, the “designated boyfriend seats” of the stores suddenly got too uncomfortable, and his iPhone games too boring, leading him to his complaints.

“Sweetheart, cmon, it’s been two hours, leave some clothes for the rest of the island.”

Voice muffled behind the dressing room door while pulling the top of a blue toile dress over your head, you responded, “Since when did you care about the rest of the island?” The pile of dresses you tried on before this dress was okay, but this dress knocked the rest of them out of the park.

“Ever since you forced me into shopping like a pogue instead of just ordering it online or getting a styli-”

Rafe froze in the middle of his complaint, staring at you in a way he never had before. His eyes seemed to say something words couldn’t describe, but the drool collecting at the corner of his mouth spoke volumes.

“You’re drooling”, you stepped forward, blushing as you wiped the saliva from the corner of his pink lips. “Thoughts? Questions? Concerns?”, you joked.

He remained silent, eyes scanning your entire body before calling a saleswoman to grab you all the colors available for that dress.

________

The days following this encounter proved this sundress theory even more.

Suddenly Rafe wanted to be by you all of the time and canceled plans he had weeks in advance just to spend time with you. When he couldn’t cancel, he’d drag you along and force the guys to invite your friends to come with you.

As Rafe talked with Kelce, Topper, and a few of your friends' boyfriends, he had you perched upon his lap. Absentmindedly, he’d play with the hem of your dress, and always find something on you to “fix” just to get his hands on you, like your dress strap or a piece of hair that’s out of place. You simply looked too pretty not to play with. Intrigued in a conversation about your psychotic ex-best friend, you were reminded of Rafe’s presence the further he traced his fingers up your thighs.

Rafe loved that about both you and the sundresses. That you would become putty in his hands the more he touched you, and the sundresses that easily allowed him to do so discreetly. Sure, Rafe wants to see more of your skin exposed, but the skirt of your dresses hid the haven only he was able to see, whether in his bedroom or his car.

The sight of you in a sundress drives Rafe fucking crazy. The second he sees you in one, he’s immediately gesturing you over to him while he’s sitting. placing you, still standing, in between his legs, he can’t help but stare at your tanned and glowing skin, and the light purple hickies he left on your neck and chest for show. when he’s wrapping his arms around your waist, wandering his hands up the backs of your thighs while you play with his hair, all he can think about is you, and it seems like all of his problems melt away.

While the dresses bring you affection from Rafe, they also attract the attention of other guys. Of course, Rafe can’t blame them for staring at you, he can’t help but stare at you too, but the difference is that you’re his, and his only.

The poor boy can’t help but get a little bit jealous when everyone is talking you up at a party and you’re too innocent to know that they just want you for sex, they don’t just always want to be your friend.

Rafe knows some people have good intentions, but can’t help his selfishness and wants you all to himself- a reoccurring topic in your fights. They’re not really fights, it’s really just you both being too stubborn to admit your wrongs.

During fights like these, when you haven’t fucked in a few days and both full of pent-up anger, the dresses come in most handy.

So when Rafe sees you walking into a beach kegger late at night in none other than a white sundress (the color Rafe says always reminds him how much he wants to marry you), he knows that you know what you’re doing.

The delicate white linen dress hugs your body perfectly, cupping your perky, bra-less breasts perfectly and the hem ends perfectly at your mid thigh. Rafe takes in your beauty regardless of the fact that you’re both fighting right now, but can’t help but be bothered by the fact that you’re wearing that without his hand in yours, without his arms around your waist or tickling your sides, and especially without the hickeys he normally leaves littering your skin. You can feel his eyes burning into the back of your skull as you turn to talk to your friend, letting her guy friend pour you a drink.

Standing up, he disregards the insults from his friends calling him “pussywhipped” and makes his way over to you, watching your friends leave the conversation in fear of the consequences they’d face for talking to you when you look so good.

Turning your body around to face him, he is even angrier is when you pretend to be “oh so innocent” in white dress, pretend to be oh so innocent. Watching him with your confused doe eyes, he takes a deep breath before me speaks.

“You know what you’re doing.”

While shaking your head, you respond with a slight smirk, leading him to grab your drink someone who wasn’t rafe made you, pour that shit onto the sand, and drag you to his expensive ass car to remind you not only that he was wrong, but that your his, and his only.

“God, you’re such a fuckin’ tease. If you wanted to fuck you could’ve just asked”, he spoke loudly.

Once he had you leaning back against the outside of his car, you finally responded, “Who said I wanted to fuck?”, softly as you dragged your freshly manicured nails down his chest.

Rafe gave you a knowing look, “You said it with those eyes and the way you’re fucking dressed.”

“You don’t like the dress?”, you whined, eyes watering in anticipation for what was going to come.

He answered you with a kiss on the lips, drifting his kisses from your mouth, down your jaw, to your ear to whisper, “The dress isn’t the problem, Angel. You look beautiful, it’s the fact that you’re so fuckin stubborn that you had to flaunt yourself to the island just to get me to fuck you. If you really wanted me that bad you could’ve asked.”

Letting out a breathy moan in response as he sucked and nipped at your neck you could barely speak, “So prove it.”

Returning to your plump, strawberry chapstick-coated lips, he continued to kiss you, “Hmmm?”

You pushed his chest away and looked up at him. He towered over you with his height, and it just turned you on that much more. “Prove it to me that I’m yours, Rafe.”

Kissing you deeply, he scooped down to pick you up and wrap your legs around his waist as he searched for his car keys in his pocket.

Unlocking the back seat door of his car, he set you down as you slid back and laid down to give him room to hover over you.

Hand slipping under your dress, he stared at you as you pushed his chest away and sat up on your elbows.

“So do you really like the dress??”

________

This is my first blurb and my first time writing anything like this so please b nice and leave feedback- I love to read ur comments they make me so happy!! - Angel

Rafe Cameron>>>>>>>

🍪; lover, you should have come over by jeff buckley

₊˚⊹ᰔ 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝’𝐯𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫

pairing: older!rafe x bambi!reader

summary: ❝sometimes a man must awake to find that really he has no one. so i’ll wait for you, love.❞ — in which rafe never took your relationship seriously when he had you, so you left the island in hopes of starting new. however, you’re back one year later, and this time you’re both on the same page.

warnings: second chance au, implied age gap, lots of talk about marriage and having kids, angst, time skip, rafe is pretty regretful in this one

word count: 0.6k

a/n: this couldn’t have been a more perfect request! i’ve been wanting to do something like this for a while now. left this one on a little cliffhanger, pls don’t hate me </3 buttttt if requested enough, i’m completely open to making a part two!

rafe knew the night you left him without a word, he was the one entirely at fault. he knew deep down there was only so much you could take before you’d have to realize he wasn’t going to give you what you wanted more than anything else, and that was serious commitment. despite you being slightly younger than him, you valued the more serious, traditional side of things. while rafe was thinking about where he would take you to dinner next, you were wondering if your babies would have his blue eyes.

refusing to be the one to initiate that kind of conversation with him, you held your tongue and enjoyed the time you had with him until your heart couldn’t take it anymore. the final straw for you was when you two were laying together the way you always did post-sex, and rafe revealed to you that marriage would never be in the cards for him. he claimed that he was too much of a possessive person to share you with anyone else, let alone children, and you swore your heart broke in two.

“you don’t want to get married.. like ever?” you gazed up at him with those fucked out eyes of yours, just hoping he wouldn’t say the words that would give you confirmation to let him go. “no. i know a lot of people say this, but it’s true; marriage is just a piece of paper.” that night, you remembered every curve and detail of his face, forever engraving his image in your head as you silently slipped out of tanneyhill and didn’t look back. you cried. oh, god, you cried so much. apart of you felt like going back and erasing all desire of marriage and family and just indulge in what you and rafe had, but in no world would that work.

rafe woke up that morning, feeling a profound sense of emptiness he didn’t expect to feel without you near. he recalled the way you looked at him before he fell asleep, like you were never going to see him again. panick set in, his feet moving before he could think. he called your name out, checking every room and bathroom before the harsh reality hit him like a ton of bricks. he called your phone, throwing his own when an automated message said the line had been deactivated.

rafe was in denial the first week. he was sure you’d turn up somehow, somewhere and wrap your arms around his shoulders while planting kisses on his neck, but you never came. that didn’t stop him from looking for you any chance he got, hoping, pleading that he’d bump into you somewhere and you’d go home with him. when he caught word that you had left the island altogether, he felt hurt, betrayed. how could someone as sweet and soft, and so precious as yourself just vanish without warning?

he didn’t understand, not being able to wrap his head around the fact that you felt like you had to run from him. you were the only thing he had on this god forsaken island. his family, his friends, no one truly knew him like you did. no one recognized his efforts to be a better man, no one comforted him, loved him. he spent his days focused on work, completely shutting everyone out. he was filled with regret, and it was your absence that made him realize marriage was so much more than a legal document.

it was vowing to never take that person for granted, it was carving your love in a stone of history, it was a sacred promise to never leave one another, a sacred promise that he so badly wished to have another chance at. before he knew it, an entire year had passed and just like you, there was nothing he wanted more than a family of his own. scratch that, he didn’t just want it. he dreamt about it, yearned for it just as much as he yearned for you. what he didn’t know, was that it wouldn’t be long until you showed up at his door.

: ̗̀➛ toxic relationship with Rafe Cameron .

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

but you love your boyfriend.

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You never understand why you keep going back. Maybe it was his specific ways of persuasion, maybe manipulation. Or maybe you actually love him.

warnings: angst, some fluff, light themes of toxic relationships and obsession. themes of manipulation. proof read.

Every week. Every week there’s another screaming, yelling, throwing random shit argument that happens between you two. And half of the time, it’s not even anything serious. Well, to you it’s not. But to Rafe? Oh, he takes everything personal.

You cant help but overthink about the little things you do now. About anyone or anything; who you text, talk to, what you wear, when you wear it. It’s like you’re fucking restricted, having to oblige to his rules and his sick mind games.

So whenever he attempts ( and sometimes succeeds ) in manipulating and gaslighting you, all you can do is just give him a slight glare, maybe cross your arms over your chest and narrow your eyes at him to try and assert atleast some authority. Oh, but that never ends well either.

“..don’t give me that fucking look.” Rafe scoffed, big arms crossing over his chest, biceps peeking out of his white polo. It’s like he’s trying to mock you, humiliate you and make you feel like nothing compared to him. Well, it works. Everytime.

The feeling of isolation; like a mere shame compared to a man. It’s suffocating, being tangled in the emotions of self doubt and self pity, because you know nobody else will pity yourself. —having the restrain wet tears from drizzling down your cheeks. It’s exhausting. You constantly remind yourself that you love your boyfriend, Rafe cameron. Because you do, you have your own ways to love him, and your own times to love him at. But in this moment, fuck, you were contemplating weather you loved him, or you loved the idea of a boyfriend.

but you do love your boyfriend.

Whenever you’re around him, you feel your heart tighten, like it’ll explode. You’d imagine confetti and heart balloons thinking out of your heart when you lay your eyes upon him. Electric shocks imploding in your mind, and the most innocent, naive grin forming on your pale lips.

so of course, you loved love him.

And everytime you look into his pretty, aquamarine eyes, you’re eyes flutter in awe. He’s gorgeous, to you he’s the most beautiful man in the world, you loved him more than anything. He looks like a sweet melody on a summers day. He feels like the warmth of the sand at the beach. Your heart aches for him and your mind creates tiny little stars whenever you’re close to him. — you feel the ground beneath you shake. —like the world only exists for you two and you’re made for eachother. Tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear and glaring at him with you’re big doey eyes.

so, what more could you want?

but what more could he want?

you aways had a slight feeling that you weren’t good enough for him.— that he’s cheating and whenever you asked him about it he always disregarded your question. he always would tell you that he would never cheat, youre his perfect girl and he loves you. he reassures you, tells you not to worry and forces an image into your mind that he would never do that, ..and maybe he wouldn’t.

then why would you find other girls on his phone?

you never asked him about it because then he would know you’re being sneaky, not listening to him and disbelieving his words. but then again..

He takes care of you. Everytime. Whenever you’re sick, curdling up in your sweet bed, trying to forget about the rest of existence, he’s always there beside you. —rough hand colliding with your hair, stroking through your soft locks gently. His gentleness, you always admired. His plump lips pressing against yours which sent waves to ripple down your body, goosebumps elevating on your fair skin.

“—it’s okay baby, i’m here..” His warm breath and silk words seeping into your ear. You couldn’t help but fluster at the sight. You, laying in your boyfriends arms whilst he cares for you, aids you when you need it, even when you don’t ask. He was always there for you physically.

But what about mentally?

You love your boyfriend.

But everytime you close your eyes, all you can be reminded of is all the times he wasn’t there for you. Infact, he would be the reason for your distress. He’d leave you alone to rot in agony and ache all unattended.

Especially after an argument. You’d leave a million missed phone calls and texts on his phone.

[1:23AM] — rafe?

[1:23AM] — rafe i’m sorry please call me back.

[1:24AM] — missed phone call x2

[3:49AM] — rafe. please.

you knew he was sitting behind his screen, peering at his phone blowing up. you knew he wouldn’t reply, but you tried anyway, being swallowed by doubt. Satisfied with how loyal and devoted you are, how hopeless and how you’re nothing when he’s not around. — like an infectious symbioate you could never rid yourself of, because..

You love your boyfriend.

oh yeah, he always left you on read during these times.

and eventually you’d give up calling.

until he’s back at your door step, fresh flowers in hand along with some chocolates in the other. An apologetic smile splayed on his lips, and then all your thoughts wash away.

You love him. He’s the man you want to have children with, he’s the man that’ll propose to you, slide a pretty gem on your finger to symbolise your love for each other. He’s the man that’ll be the daddy to your children. He’ll be there for you during your highest and lowest. He’ll listen to your sobs and your laughters. You already listen to his. One day you two will be buried together, till death do you two part.

You love your boyfriend.

and there’s nothing in the world that you wouldn’t do for him.

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inspired by the song:

“ I love my boyfriend “— princess chelsea .

okay is it just me but smutty fics is all that ever comes up on my feed like no matter who it is but mostly rafe😩 but sometimes i just get sickkk of smut and just need a cutesy soft rafe to love me and not abuse me when we’re having 😉😉 i’m not trying to shame others for writing it this is just what i think.

i’m so excited for this story!!!

partners in crime - pt. one - forbidden fruit

↳PAIRING: detective!rafe cameron x partner!reader

↳SUMMARY: you and your partner rafe investigate a string of sexually based homicides in the city. will the pressure become too much or will you finally tell each other how you really feel?

↳ [1k] WARNINGS: 18+: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! NO SERIOUSLY, ILL BLOCK YOU! mature themes, sex in a car, cum play, violence, hurt/comfort, cocky asshole rafe, cop lingo, cop! rafe - yes he's a warning and a menace and extremely talented with his tongue, mentions of gun violence and sex crimes (they're in the SVU baby - olivia benson is quaking) etc.

↳A/N: this is a repost from my old blog @tee-swizzle. all of my works are being reposted to this one + the previous blog has been deactivated. moodboard by: @wildflwrdarlin. also, please let me know if you'd like to be tagged in this series!

It started with the tiniest seed of frustration. Religious people always talk about how a mustard seed of faith is enough to get you through anything. Rafe was one of those people, it was his mantra and though you didn’t believe what he did, you trusted that he believed it for a reason. That tiny mustard seed of faith had gotten him through his days as a marine and back home safely. You were thankful for that. It was something he didn’t talk about often, but you knew he counted it all to God that he made it. As mustard seeds come, you’d never seen one, but you understood the metaphor behind them, that the smallest ounce of faith could get you through, that you just had to believe. But, you never thought that mustard seeds came in other forms, forms like anger and resentment and frustration. That’s what you and Rafe had discovered the hard way. The current moment you sat in now was proof of such a thing. This – this mustard seed of frustration had started everything, had destroyed everything and it started with a serial rapist in Brooklyn. The truth was Rafe saw his baby sisters in every victim, he even saw you in some of them too and when a criminal had the audacity to slip through his fingers, he simply couldn’t function. That’s how you found yourself admiring his facial features on a random Tuesday night as you sat across from him and he spoke into a voice recorder, detailing the harrowing events of the body you’d found in central park mere hours prior. You watch him intently, the dim of his desk lamp illuminating the strong features of his jaw as he spoke. He was breathtaking and beautiful, you’d give him that. You loved him – you’d give him that, too.

“This is officer Rafe Cameron, badge number 3976210, reporting on incident 17100059SVU. Reporting officers 1 & 2 of the special victims unit made the scene at Central Park – West located at 8th avenue and met sergeant Ted Baker of the homicide division. Sergeant Baker stated that he had a homicide victim and had requested photographs to be taken of the body and for complete evidence collection. The victim was identified as twenty-two year old Cassie Posey. Upon evidence collection, a small bag of a white powder, later identified as cocaine, was found inside her front right pocket. She was found laying on her back, arms at her sides, with only a bra covering a body, suggesting sexual assault. Shell casings from the gun were found parallel to the body. New York police and EMS were dispatched to the scene and transported her body to the medical examiner’s office.” 

He pressed stop on the small recorder that sat on his desk and his blue eyes darted to you, bringing his dog tags up to his mouth yet again. The dog tags had become the center of your universe. His dog tags – one of the many things you had etched in your brain that identified him. You had watched them drape from his neck, dangling as you captured an assailant, watched them sit between his teeth as he gritted them in concentration; just as he was now, the only thing grounding him as he worked hours going over evidence, wanting nothing more than to catch the bad guy. It was so deeply ingrained in him from his days as a marine. 

“What are you looking at?” 

You’re brought out of your thoughts as Rafe’s sweet-like-honey tone infiltrates your ears. 

“What?” 

You questioned, feigning ignorance to what he said. You’d heard him, even though you were hyper fixated on the way his bicep was contracting as he moved toward you. Nope – you’d heard him, loud and clear. You just didn’t have the balls to tell him you were counting the colors in his eyes and admiring every muscle group that showed prominence from underneath his tan skin. 

“What are you looking at?” 

He probed you again, this time like you were a perp in his line of questioning. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees and you grinned like a child, ear to ear. Your eyes met his and he leaned forward even further, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ears. Blush rose to your cheeks. Suddenly – the years of fawning over him had come to a head and you couldn’t breathe. So, you followed your instincts, moving your eyes to your comfort item; his dog tags and you grabbed them. He looked down and smiled. 

“You like those?” 

He asked and you nodded, studying them once more before his large hand wrapped around yours stopping you in your tracks. Your eyes flicked to his and he closed in on you, your noses brushing against each other. You froze – all of your wants and desires coming to fruition as his plump pink lips met yours in an unforeseen kiss. You melted into the velvet of him. Your eyes remained closed as you pulled from the kiss and as they opened you focused on the dog tags again. The rest of it seemed to be a blur until you were looking up at him from where you laid in the backseat of your squad car. You’d seen the dog tags in every situation imaginable, but you had never seen them dangling above your face – you’d never seen them against his bare chest, the moonlight dancing across the shadows of his body moving against yours. It started in mere frustration – the act of your lips meeting his. They were soft and tender, just as you had always imagined they’d be and yes – you’d imagined, because quite frankly every woman that came into contact with him had. He was beautiful in an effortless, star striking kind of way. You had managed to acknowledge the fact that he was breathtaking without acting on it for so long that this – him inside you – was like a fever dream. He had laid you down in the back of your patrol car, his rough hands, imprints his gun had left in his fingertips tracing your breasts as he kissed you again. Whispers of “are you sure” and “never have we ever before” spoken between you as his blue eyes filled with lust and your pussy was filled to the brim with him. 

Fuck – what were you supposed to do now?

✩ — SINEMIES

PAIRING‧₊˚  Rafe Cameron x Kook!Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚  [2.8k] Returing to Kildare after years away, your mentality may have changed but you still have some old habits...

WARNING(S)‧₊˚  swearing, mild p*rn without plot but the plot was fun to write, smut

A/N‧₊˚ part of my angstober event!

˗ˏˋ rafe masterlist ˎˊ˗

A COMPACT MIRROR WAS HELD UP TO YOUR LIPS AS YOU TOUCHED UP YOUR LIPS, blotting them together before clamping the small object shut. You could feel the car finally come to a halt before the driver turned to face you.

“We’ve arrived, miss.” He announced, tone chipper and bright as always. You pulled a neatly folded one-hundred dollar bill from your bra and held it out to him, watching as he took the bill as humbly as possible.

“Thank you, Martin.” You thanked your personal driver, the man who had fathered you possibly more than your own, who was always gone on 'business'. Business being running around sleeping with women who were half his age and sipping Martini’s in a hot tub on a skyscraper rooftop 500 miles away. 

“My pleasure. You stay safe now.” He insisted, raising a brow as you offered a smile and reached for the handle. 

“Will do. Have a nice night.” You bid farewell as you swung the door of the sleek, black vehicle open, taking extra care to make sure your legs were never too far apart as you stepped out. The dress you picked out was just brushing what was considered ‘business casual’. You held your matching clutch close to your side and tried your best to ignore the way your heels made the arches of your feet ache. 

Wiggling your fingers at the man behind the wheel, you shut the door and watched as the car drove away. Turning your attention to the house you hadn’t seen in years and honestly hoped to never see again. The Cameron Residence was practically a historical landmark in Kildare. The house hadn’t aged in the years you’d been gone — walking out of it as a heartbroken eighteen year old girl and walking the path up to the door as a refined twenty-two year old woman. 

You could hear the low, classical music playing and the faint chatter of the guests inside. Shadows passing by as silhouettes in front of the curtains, the only lights that were on being on the first level of the home. 

You wasted no time, even in your careful observing, in taking strides towards the front door which would undoubtedly be unlocked, walking carefully as to not trip over your feet and make a fool of yourself. 

When your hand touched the doorknob, pushing open the only structure keeping you from the rest of the party, it was like stepping into a new reality. It was a reality you’d left behind in exchange for college campus life, which was more homey. More comforting and cozy, it kept you grounded. 

This reality was superficial, so superficial it nauseated you like never before. Art pieces on the white walls that cost way too much money and had no real meaning, sports trophies that were bought with wealth statuses and daddy’s money littered amongst coffee tables and mantelpieces. 

But you’d only have to suffer a couple hours and get what you came here for.

“You made it!” A voice beamed close to your ear, turning to see Sarah Cameron walking speedily in a pair of heels and a cream colored silk dress. Her arms were up as she made a b-line in your direction, a genuine smile falling across your face. You adored Sarah. She was probably one of the most genuine people who ever lived on Figure Eight. 

She embraced you tightly, swaying side to side as she did. “Oh, I missed you. We have so much to catch up on!” She gushed, releasing you from her grasp to grab a hold of your wrist instead. “Everyone’s in the backyard. C’mon, they’ve been waiting for you.” The ecstatic blonde girl gave you no time to greet her back or return her affections as she dragged you through the crowd of middle-aged business men and women. 

Stepping into the backyard where circular tables were set up with white tablecloths, candles placed perfectly in the middle of each one. It wasn’t long before your eyes landed on them all standing around one of the set ups. And it wasn’t long before they spotted you too, waving you and Sarah both over.

When you came to a stop in front of them as Sarah released your arm, you were pulled into another embrace by Ward himself. “Oh, honey, look at you!” He cooed, giving you a tight squeeze before pulling back and letting his hands rest on your shoulders. “You look beautiful. Where’s your father? Is he going to make it?”

You gave the man a pained smile. “Thank you, Mr.Cameron. No, he won’t. He’s in the city on ‘unofficial business’.” You spoke, spite evident in your voice. “You know how that goes.”

Ward gave you a comforting smile and squeezed your shoulder reassuringly before removing his hands. “Well, give him my best when you do see him.” With the conversation ending there, you turned your attention to the rest of the people surrounding the table. 

Rose perched under Ward’s arm, Wheezie leaned over the table with her elbows propped up on the surface while she fiddled with her phone, and Rafe. 

He stood directly across from you, hands in the pockets of his slacks as his eyes bored shamelessly into yours.

You stared back for a moment, narrowing your eyes. After a moment, you gave him a thin-lipped smile and small nod of your head in acknowledgement of his presence. “Hi, Rafe.”

“I didn’t think you’d be coming this year.” He spoke, voice deeper and more raspy than you remember. But you had to admit, he looked better. No longer strung out on drugs, mind racing all over the place. He looked tamed.

“Wouldn’t miss it.” You assured him. The tension was palpable and you’re sure the rest of the Cameron family could feel it as Rose and Ward dismissed themselves to greet guests while Sarah dragged Wheezie to go eat all the sample foods in the kitchen with her. 

You and Rafe had dated practically all throughout high school. It was good until it wasn't. Rafe made you fall in love with a version of him that didn't exist and when the mask slipped there was no putting it back on. The relationship became the bane of your existence at some point during it. It couldn't even be described as toxic. Vile is probably a better word.

Once it was just the two of you, Rafe rounded the table to stand next to you as a waiter came around to hand you each a glass of champagne. You sat your clutch on the table and sipped on the beverage as he stood silently next to you, both of you facing forwards watching the party go on around you.

“Are you going to say something?” You asked flatly, tracing the rim of your glass.

“Why are you here?”

“Was I not invited?”

“You only ever come because your father asks you to just so he and my father can talk about property and money. But your father isn’t here. So why are you?” He pointed out.

You chuckled smally to yourself, finally turning your head to look at him as he did the same. “If you think I’m here for you, don’t flatter yourself.” You poked, leaning your weight on the table. “I’m surprised Ward didn’t mention anything to you.”

His eyebrows pinched together. “Mention what?”

“I came here to talk to him. About his company.” You started, taking a short sip of your champagne before continuing. “I want it and if my offer is good enough, he’s going to sell it to me.”

You'd struck a nerve in him. Nostrils flaring, fists balled on the surface of the top as he tried to compose himself. He had never been good with managing his anger. It was good to see that some things never change.

“Why the fuck would my father sell our family business to you?” He spat. “It’s mine. He said it was mine.”

“Well, it seems daddy lied to you.” You shrugged, looking Rafe in the eyes. “Like father, like son.”

Rafe’s eyes were running wild, his cheeks a deep shade of red. He took a step closer to you, placing his lips next to your ear as he spoke. “You’re bluffing. You've always been a bad bluff so, just say you missed me so we can fuck and you can go home.”

“I didn’t travel over two-hundred miles for you, Rafe.” You shot back, voice at his level now. “You never fucked me good enough for that type of commitment.”

“That’s funny. Considering all the screaming you were doing the night before you left for your fancy little Ivy-League School.” 

“You mean the night you begged me to come over? Crying about how you needed me-” You were cut off when Rafe abruptly gripped your upper arm, swiftly dragging you through the huddles of guests, into the house, and into the first open bathroom. He practically used your arm to throw you into the vacant area, closing the door behind himself.

His hands were trailing your thighs and underneath your dress before you could speak, his face only inches from yours. You didn’t think you’d ever miss his touch. It was always so rushed and rough. But now it was deliberately gentle and borderline seductive. 

“I will never forget the easiest way to get you to shut up. You're still the same.”

You snarled at him, mumbling an insult under your breath.

You hadn’t taken notice of the way your hands balled up your dress at the sides in your annoyance, making it easier for his hands to maneuver its way to the front of your panties, pressing the lightest of pressure to your clit. 

Your words had died in your throat, all insults and jabs getting swallowed down as you eyed him up and down while your heart beat out of your chest. Your lips were parted with small breaths leaving your lips every few seconds, refusing to give him complete satisfaction. “This doesn’t change anything.”

A smirk edged on his face before his head dipped down, using his nose to tip your chin up to gain access to your neck. You put up minimal struggle — you knew this wasn’t what you planned to do once you got here. You were here to rub the deal in his face, not fuck him in the downstairs bathroom of his mansion. But that plan became increasingly harder to carry out while he was sucking and licking your neck in all the right places that made you bite down on your tongue to keep quiet while his fingers moved your panties to the side, making contact with your bundle of nerves. One of your own hands released your dress to grab the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer.

The tips of his calloused fingers gilded easily through your dripping folds. He sighed into your neck at the contact and you could feel him smile against your skin, his fingers tracing your core leisurely. “You don’t hate me nearly as much you think you do.”

His words made your blood boil and your legs go weak all at the same time. If he was going to fuck you, then he needed to do just that and shut up while he was at it.

Your free hand ran its up his clothed back, cupping the back of his neck as he resumed his assault on yours. You had to bite down on your lip to stop yourself from making noise that any guest within ten feet of the door would hear as he eagerly pushed two of his fingers inside of you. You were never the quietest.

Your grip on his neck grew tighter, nails digging into the skin as his thick fingers curled and pumped between your legs. You’d been with other guys since Rafe but he knew you too well, which gave him an advantage that you hated. “Oh, fuck…” You muttered when you could no longer hold your profanities in your chest.

Releasing the hand that remained on your dress, you grabbed his wrist in a desperate attempt to shove his digits deeper into your core. 

He must’ve taken this as a sign that you wanted much more than he was offering because it wasn’t long before his fingers went from carefully massaging your g-spot to ramming into you callously. Your mouth fell open, the hand grabbing his wrist now gripping his forearm, feeling the veins on his biceps through his shirt. 

His head retreated from your neck to crash his lips against yours. His kisses no longer tasted like coke how they used to —- chemical and bitter. The only thing you could taste was the fruity-sweet undertones of the expensive champagne. It made your heart clench in the slightest of ways, knowing that just maybe he wasn’t the same person he was when you left.

But you knew he also wasn’t someone you could ever be with.

You were just about to reach your climax when he pulled his fingers back, leaving you empty and clenching around nothing. You didn’t even have a second to complain before he was dropping you to the floor, feet landing on the hardwood floor just in time to catch yourself.

Rafe hiked up your dress above your hips, pulling your panties down like a man starved and turning you to face the wall before using a hand on your back to bend you over. One of your own hands came up to slap itself against the painted surface, keeping you steady.

You could hear him unbutton his pants before letting them drop down his thighs, hearing his shoes shuffle closer behind you before you felt the warm head of his cock, smearing precum over your heat.

He wasted little time in pushing into you, a small groan leaving his lips as both of his hands went to grip your hips, pulling you back onto him with every thrust forward. Quick breaths and low moans were leaving your lips with every slap of his hips against yours.

His pace was moderate, but he was so deep that every push back into you felt like a kick to the gut in the best way possible.

You only felt a little shame when you realized this was exactly where Rafe wanted you. But this didn’t change anything after the fact. And he didn’t know that yet.

You started to feel that knot in your abdomen wind itself tighter again, pulling and pulling until after one particularly deep, knee-trembling thrust and the unexpected feeling of his fingers rubbing circles into your clit, you snapped. Coming around him as your nails scratched against the wall and you let out a long, breathy moan.

He wasn’t far behind you, grip on your hip growing tighter as his thrusts grew more rapid and sloppy, pushing you farther up the wall as your body began to straighten itself out, trembling as his circling of your nerves hadn't let up and he rode out your own high while still fucking into you. You felt the familiar feeling of him spilling inside of you within seconds. You didn’t think you would ever forget it.

You didn’t let him bask in his post-sex haze for long, pulling your garments back on and into place after he pulled out before silently moving around him to see yourself in the mirror. You fixed your loose strands of hair and lip gloss that somehow ran down your lips and onto your chin. You could see the blur of him in the reflective surface behind you as he pulled his pants back on, hair messed and skin red.

Once you deemed yourself decent, you creaked the door open, peeking to see who was near. When you figured the coast was clear, you slipped out of the door, leaving Rafe behind.

You weaved your way through the crowd of people that had thinned out somewhat, heading for the backyard where you realized you had carelessly left your clutch on the table. Making it back to the table where Rafe had dragged you from, half-drunk glasses of champagne and your abandoned clutch on the surface, you grabbed it, ready to turn around and find Ward. 

But of course, the second you turned back to the patio doors, Rafe was just inches behind you.

“You’re leaving now, right?”

You couldn’t help but scoff humorously. “What?”

“You got what you came here for so you’re leaving.” He said as if he had it all figured out. You didn’t think he seriously thought you were bluffing about the business proposal. Poor thing.

“I already told you, Rafe,” You started, shaking your head with a small grin on your face. “I’m not here for you.”

His face morphed into one of great annoyance and mild anger as your name was called, echoing outside. Your gaze shifted behind the irritated man to find Ward coming your way.

Stopping in front of you, he spoke without really noticing his son’s presence. “I’m so glad I caught you. I’ve been busy all night but-” Suddenly, he seemed to notice Rafe’s figure in front of you, hesitant eyes whipping between the both of you to carefully select his next words, not aware of the fact that his son now knew the one thing he didn’t want him to. “...I’d really still like a chance to talk about… that thing, before you go.”

You nodded, only really wanting to conceal the childish smile on your face. “That’d be great, Mr.Cameron. I’ll be sure to stick around.”

The older man gave you a grateful nod, pitifully eyeing his son before heading back inside. Your own gaze shifted back to Rafe, you could’ve sworn you saw steam rising from his ears. And though you felt a twinge of guilt, you just couldn’t help but chuckle.

“You are a lot of things Rafe,” You started, picking up your champagne glass from the table behind you before looking at him again. “But better than me is not one of them.”

General taglist; @livlaughquinn

Event Taglist; @timmytime17

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.

©loveharlow

i need a rafe cameron hurt/comfort fic. and when i say that, i mean a RAFE CAMERON hurt/comfort fic. not, oh... well reader is this and that happened to reader so blah blah blah rafe comforts them. NO.

give me rafe cameron running to reader, and wrapping himself around them, tears pooling in his pretty blue eyes as he murmurs something about being a fuck up into their shoulder. probably distressed from another fight with his dad or another situation happened where he lost control and it terrified him.

his arms are probably so tight around reader that they can barely breathe, but if rafe let's go then how is he gonna ever calm down?? reader is like his lifeline and even a split second away from them, in any way, is just adding to the pooling fear and dread that swirls in that pretty little head of his :((

i need something like this so baddddd bc i can't find any (there's probably some out there nd i just havent seen it yet but where tf is it?)

(can you tell i'm rewatching obx for the 3rd time???)

smthn w hoodies

h o o d i e s

fandom- outer banks

pairing(s)-rafe cameron

a/n: tso i've never written for him and the request is not very specific. y'all are free to request them again w different characters. i haven't really seen anyone in obx wearing hoodies but anyway, here it is requests are open luv, thai

requested- yes

playlist: the rafe cameron mindset

warnings- none i think-

Rafe found himself in Mr. Bellingham's radar again. he's always been in his radar. but today wasn't a reason he'd believe since you would never do anything of assort with the likes of the Cameron

His best guess was that he had a moment of self reflection in the hallways.

Cameron and you had a very strange relationship, where one or the other would do a 180 when seeing the other's face. just because both of you are childish with their nurturing crushes.

You had no idea what gave you the courage to pull something like that on him, but it's been a while since he's been gawking, why not.

With a pull on Rafe's hand, both of you were in an empty classroom, him against the door in sheer surprise.

You pulled him closer with the fabric of his hoodie over his head with inches between you

who wears a hoodie in this weather?

His faces were tilted as if to kiss you, noses barley apart. you hand trailed down from the hood to the strings and tugged, closing the gap of his lips and yours with the light fabric.

But Rafe Cameron was in it now, his confidence barged in and was ready to devour. he did not bother to undo the knot, nope, he reached his hand under the cloth and pulled it off completely. leaving him shirtless and you probably breathless.

he held the sleeves in his arms and pulled you in by the hoodie. at this point you were closer and looked like a tomato.

he had an eyebrow raised, smirk plastered on his stupidly gorgeous face

is this how you want to play doll?

i have been meaning. to draw this for ages.

anyways. silly obx joke