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#unhinged rafe
beautifuldisaster88 · 2 months
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Forever by my side
A/N: After coming across the gif, this idea randomly came to me. If I get the inspiration, I MIGHT make a part two. I used the same McKenzie/Kenzie, but you can picture reader as yourself or whoever you want. The only description of reader is; female, 17, eye color (mentioned only once) Rafe always called her 'bunny'
Summary: Rafe's girlfriend is John B's twin sister and he tells her everything. She's seen a lot of bad shit, but swore to always keep her mouth shut because she loves Rafe. Ward on the other hand becomes Paranoid that the Routledge girl will go to the sheriff, so he takes matters into his own hands, causing his son to finally snap.
Warnings: mentions of murder, actual murder, violence, Rafe seeing hallucinations not knowing it's not real, cursing, mentions of torture. I think that's it?
Rafe's tall frame appeared in the doorway. The young man looked at his father, Ward Cameron, as he made his way inside his office. What the hell did Ward want from him now? He didn't have time for this shit.
"What the hell do you want, dad? I already told you that I need to find-"
The dirty blonde was cut off by Ward, clearly making Rafe grow even more irritated.
"That's why I called you in here, son. You don't have to worry about that anymore. It's all been ta-"
Ward was then cutoff by a breaking news report on the TV. The older Cameron man sighed, knowing exactly what the news report was about. He was hoping to be the one to break it to Rafe before anyone else.
"Breaking News. Kildare County Sheriff's department was called out to the marsh earlier this morning, witnesses claiming they spotted a body."
The news reporter began, immediately catching Rafe's attention. He ignored his father, giving the TV his full attention. Outer Banks wasn't a big place, so it was more than likely that Rafe knew whoever's body was found. The last thing he ever expected to hear came next.
"According to Sheriff Shoupe, 17 year old McKenzie Routledge's body washed up early this morning. It's still unclear how the young girl died, and the Sheriff's department is currently undergoing an investigation. If you have any information we urge you to call the Sheriff's department. We will update you with new information as it becomes available. McKenzie left behind her twin brother, John B Routledge, not even a year after the death of their father. Our thoughts and prayers go out to her family and friends."
Rafe stood there frozen in place, his heart breaking and ears ringing, as tears fell from his eyes. Not his Kenzie, please, anyone but her. Who would want to hurt her, she was always nothing but sweet to everyone and she had no enemies. That's when it hit him.
He violently jerked his body around to face Ward, Rafe's blood already beginning to boil as his heart shattered into a million pieces.
"What the fuck did you do!?" Rafe screamed as he began to pace, jabbing his finger into his own chest. "I-I loved her, dad! She fucking saved me, saw me for me! W-why would you take her from me!? She never fucking hurt anyone!"
"Rafe, I need you to calm down. I did what I had to do.. to protect us... Protect you. The Routledge girl knew too much, and it was only a matter of time before she slipped up and told someone. She had to go, son. I did this for you."
Now Rafe was beyond angry, his vision immediately turning red, blurred with tears. He grabbed Ward by the collar of his shirt and slammed the older Cameron man violently against the wall. Rafe got right in his face, seething like a rabid animal. His piercing blue eyes were now dark.
"You didn't fucking do shit for me! You never have! You fucking killed her for your own selfish fucking needs! She's not like the other Pogues and she would have never opened her fucking mouth! You took away my only happiness! The only girl I have ever fucking loved! I swear to you, I will fucking kill you, but first I'm going to make you suffer, just like you did to my Kenzie. You're not my father, you're nothing but a pathetic, scared piece of shit. The scum on the bottom of my shoe. It's fucking over for you, Ward! I will avenge my love's death."
Rafe had his hand gripped around Ward's throat so tight, that he looked at the man with a sinister smile, tears still running down his face. He watched as Ward tried to gasp for air, clawing at his son's hand as his eyes and face began to turn colors. Rafe was going to kill Ward eventually, but first he wanted him to suffer, until he was begging Rafe to kill him.
A dark laugh rumbled deep from Rafe's chest, a clear sign that the Cameron boy had officially completely lost it. Ward tried to beg Rafe to stop, barely able to speak from his airway being cut off.
"Did you make my Kenzie beg for her life too, huh? Is the last thing you saw were those beautiful emerald green eyes filled with tears, begging you not to hurt her!? She was fucking innocent! Would've taken our secrets to her motherfucking grave... Which ironically enough, she did all because of you."
Rafe then began to repeatedly slam the back of Ward's head against the wall, over and over again, as his fist connected with Ward's face, jaw, nose, you name it. The Cameron boy beat the man he once looked up to to a bloody pulp, before literally dragging him down the stairs and into the basement, where he threw Ward inside the wine cellar.
Weeks went by, and nobody had heard from Ward. Rafe played the distraught son, acting like he was worried sick about his missing father, when the truth was he had him locked away where nobody would find him, Ward's days were numbered. Rafe had used every type of torture imaginable.
The worst part about the Cameron boy finally completely snapping? He held full on conversations with his Kenzie, as if she was standing right beside him, telling her that he was going to kill Ward for her. In Rafe's mind, Kenzie WAS there, even responding to him when he spoke.
"I love you, Rafey. I knew that I could always count on you to keep me safe. Once Ward is out of the picture, it'll be just you and me. We can finally leave this island and start our life together, away from everyone."
Rafe grinned like a maniac, looking directly at his Kenzie, when in reality he was looking at nothing. She wasn't there, she was dead, but he refused to believe that.
"I'll always protect you, bunny. This time next week, you and I will be on a private beach somewhere far away, sipping on cocktails and fucking under the sunlight. Ward is barely hanging on, and tomorrow is when we finally end him. I'm gonna marry you, Kenzie, yeah? Make you my wife and have a bunch of little ones running around. 'm gonna give you the world, baby."
Rafe caressed her cheek, actually caressing thin air, as he leaned his forehead against 'McKenzie's.
"I can't wait, Rafey. Now, come on, baby, we have a gruesome murder to prepare for. Don't listen when Ward tries to convince you that I'm not real. He's just trying to get you on his side, save his own ass. You can see me, touch me, feel me, you know I'm real, right baby?"
"Of course you're real, bunny. I don't believe anything Ward says, talking about he killed you. And they say I'm the crazy one? He's the one talking about you being dead, when I'm holding you in my arms right now."
The next night, Rafe murdered Ward, with his Kenzie by his side, cheering him on. He stabbed him over and over again, the same way that Ward had killed McKenzie, but in Rafe's mind both him and his Kenzie came up with the idea.
After disposing of Ward's body, the same exact way Ward had disposed of McKenzie's, Rafe packed his and Kenzie's bags and loaded up the truck. The two of them, in reality just Rafe, left the Outer Banks and never looked back.
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netegf · 7 months
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Hate It When You Leave
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pairing: f!reader x rafe cameron
plot: you are trying to cope with the fact that you're hopelessly in love with your best friend. he's trying to cope with the fact that you don't go after the things you want... including him.
warnings: 18+, best friends to lovers trope, use of Y/N, mentions of alcohol and past drug use, non-graphic references to violence, some angst & jealousy, fluff and smut (public sex, teasing, oral female receiving)
word count: 6.5 k
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There are parts about wearing your heart on your sleeve that no one ever talks about.
For instance, that it's hard to fix your face when the threads keeping that heart together feel like they're getting tugged, cut, and re-bunched into an ugly knot. 
The water bottle you're holding hardly has any life left. Even Kelce comments as much when he rounds his kitchen island, limbs swinging and loose thanks to the red Solo cup in his hand. He takes one look at the tight smile on your lips and tilts his head to the side, fingers twitching upward to your chin as he turns your head to face him. 
"What's going on in that pretty head of yours?" He asks, voice a little slurred, but thick with concern.
That was Kelce. Polarizingly good at getting to what someone was hiding underneath. 
But appearances went a long way for him. And he was so agreeable, it made him easy to lie to. Especially when he and Topper had practically begged you to come to this party, his first one since graduating college. Everyone would be there, he'd said.
And he was right, they were. 
"Nothing, Kels, it's just my stomach being a little funny." You tell him with a renewed sense of enthusiasm. You gaze at him warmly and quirk a brow, smiling genuinely. "How do you always know?"
"We've known each other our whole lives!" He barks in a laugh. "There's nothing I don't know about you."
You feel your heart squeeze again, like there's a too-tight belt around it. But you humour him with a sweet giggle and convinced nod, and it's all Kelce needs before he's walking away to mingle with another. 
How shocked he'd be to know that there was something you were hiding. 
You keep the water bottle you're holding close to your body as if it would fall straight out of your hands otherwise. When you watch the brunette seated next to Rafe on the couch squeeze his bicep again, you think it might just fall anyway. 
Some things don't change. 
The sun goes up and down. The moon makes a nightly appearance. Kelce never dresses for the weather. Topper claims everyone else is cheating when he loses. 
You love Rafe Cameron.
"Fucking sucks, doesn't it?" A voice rings next to you.
You slowly turn your head from where you're sitting on the kitchen island to see a familiar face lounging on one of the high-chairs. 
Topper, apparently, had always had an inkling. 
"I don't know what you're talking about, Top." You grumble, casting your eyes away from the blonde protagonist of most of your dreams. Some of your nightmares, too. 
You watch as Topper rolls his eyes without so much as glancing at you, a small scoff escaping his lips. He takes a hearty sip from his cup of brown liquid. Tracking his eye-line, you're unsurprised to find that he's staring wistfully at the very same blonde's sister. 
Sarah Cameron is dancing in the corner of the room with John B., her boyfriend. 
A Pogue at a Kook party... the thought still makes you skeptical.
Not because you didn't like John B., or more accurately, like him for Sarah. But because a few short years ago, all this seemed entirely impossible.
Nonetheless, Sarah was important to all of you. 
And, like she'd said, Rafe listened to you better than he did anyone else.
When you explained to him how smitten his sister was with the boy, and considering how their relationship had endured far past those murmurings of 'young love' to, what was at this point, years together, he'd begun to understand that John B. wasn't going anywhere. 
Much to Topper's devastation. 
He promised he was over her, and he dated like it, too. But there were those moments where he had a few drinks in him and it made you think otherwise. 
"Oh, okay. My fault." Topper replies sarcastically, downing what's left in his cup and finally turning away from the couple he's burning holes through. "I thought we were being honest."
"I am being honest."
He glances at you sharply. 
"Uh huh. Hey, don't freak out, but, your nose is like, growing really long. Never seen anything like it before. It's like in that movie! What's it called, again? Puppet boy? No, that can't be right..."
"Very funny, Topper." You say dryly, but the hint of a smile on your lips sells you out and he chuckles next to you. 
"I was thinking Pinocchio." He fake recalls, nudging your elbow. 
This time, you laugh with your chest, and when you lift your head up to take it all in again, your eyes meet familiar blue ones from across Kelce's living room.
By now, you know how to mediate the warmth that blooms at the base of your spine and consumes you completely. 
There's a comfortable silence between the two of you before Topper starts speaking again. 
"You know he would do anything for you, right?" 
You chew on your bottom lip, still holding eye contact with Rafe who gives you a crooked smile. The girl next to him leans in to whisper something in his ear. He keeps looking at you. 
"Yeah, I know." You mumble half-heartedly. "I just feel like I might need to cut my losses at this point." 
Topper frowns for a moment, then stands up from his seat. 
"Well, you suit yourself." He pinches your cheek affectionately. "Because I, for one, want to crash and burn."
You snort at Topper's words and just as quickly watch him round the kitchen counter to grab another drink. 
Preoccupied with the way he extends that gesture to you, fixing some gross concoction of different sodas for you to sip on, a shiver rolls over your skin when it feels like Rafe's smouldering eyes are still lighting a fire on your face. 
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Aron Andersen is a douche, but he means well. 
At least, that's the excuse you aways placate Rafe with when Aron inevitably runs his mouth, the blonde's fists tightening nearly every time in conjunction.
Typically, you opt for the pacifist approach because blood is a bitch to clean, Rafe whines when you clean him up with saline, and frankly, Aron isn't worth it.
But tonight, he seems to enjoy testing your threshold for patience like no one else before him. 
You suppose he's not entirely to blame. Kelce makes his drinks strong, and half of Figure 8 is sucking up all the oxygen in the room.
Maybe that was why Rafe had almost swung on John B. only a few minutes prior, claiming the younger man was feeding his sister lies about him. Perhaps it was just one of those nights. 
Still, you sigh when Aron drunkenly makes his way over to your new spot in the backyard, and press your lips tight together when he shoves a beer in your direction.  
"I'm not drinking tonight, Aron." You tell him plainly. 
Aron haphazardly plops down into the lounge chair next to you with his glossy, red eyes narrowing.
He grudgingly pulls the beer back from you and takes a sip that pools around the sides of his mouth, then drains down his throat slow and loud. 
"That sucks. You're more fun when you do." He scoffs.
Your mouth falls open as the words leave his lips, head spinning to meet his annoyed gaze. The faraway look in his eyes makes you gulp.
In no particular mood to be berated, you have half a mind to scoff back and get up to leave. But there's something about the way he speaks completely unadulterated that keeps your body locked in place.
Like you're dying to know what someone really thinks of you.
"Why not?" He presses, gesturing with his finger accusingly. 
"I'm driving."
He continues to stare at you blankly.
"I'm driving." You reiterate, irritation seeping into your tone. "And drunk driving is illegal, Aron. You do know that, right?"
Unintentionally, your eyes flicker to a slightly rowdy and staggering Topper across the room. Aron zeroes in on that and rolls his eyes emphatically. 
"Now it makes sense. You're taking your boyfriends home." He pitches the word in a scornful taunt, squinting over your shoulder. "Where is Cameron, anyway?"
You feel your heartbeat rage in your chest, tongue numb and mind in disarray. 
"Don't be a dick, Aron. They're my friends." You bristle. But he seems unfazed, lazily quirking an eyebrow. 
"Please don't tell me you're that stupid, Y/N. Friends?" He laughs obnoxiously. "I get you're in love with the guy, but you run around for them like a maid. You ask me, the least you should be getting out of it is a good fuck."
Your fingers twitch at your side as you shoot up from your seat, really and truly considering that pouring his beer over his head might be the best option.
Given that Aron routinely takes up two parking spots to park his Range Rover and cheats on his girlfriends, you think it might be a long time coming. 
His words hurt for more than one reason. Of course, because he'd sooner die than recognize that you very much could maintain a healthy, platonic, and meaningful relationship with your friends of over a decade.
But also because, when it came to Rafe, he was goading you with a kind of intimacy you knew you'd never be able to access. At least not in the way you wanted. 
When a firm hand grips Aron's shoulder strongly and whips his body around, you soon realize you don't have to resort to such a physical display. 
While it was true that Rafe's face didn't make him look particularly kind, he'd only been seriously pissed off, to the point that his stomach felt like caving in on itself, a few times. Like in those months right after he'd graduated high school and felt like a big question mark. Every time his dad looked at him disapprovingly, it affirmed that sinking feeling in him, and he learned that he sometimes articulated his sadness in anger.
These days when he's mad, he mulls the feeling over a few times in the interest of scraping for another feeling underneath. 
Now, though, all Rafe feels when he meets Aron's arrogance with an intensity of his own, is unbridled rage. 
"What the fuck did you just say?"
Rafe speaks at a low register that makes your breath quicken. His movements are a little clumsy, blue eyes slightly glazed over, and his dirty blonde hair kisses his forehead that's speckled with sweat. Cheeks dusted red in that way that you love, more prominent when he's inebriated.
His fingers are still pressing harshly into Aron's shoulder, pressure concentrated and steady if the way he winces is any indication. For a second, his eyes flit over to you and the frown on your face, and they begin to soften. But then Aron is sputtering and stealing his attention and he hates him all over again for it. 
"My bad, bro." Aron offers lamely, hands jutting upward in surrender. He attempts to step away, but Rafe keeps him locked there. 
"Yeah, it's your fucking bad, bro." Rafe sneers.
He roughly shoves Aron backwards as he lets go of him and the man quickly scurries away knowing that if he sticks around, Rafe will probably force him through clenched teeth to apologize to you.
You feel your heart hammering in your chest for a different reason.
Your mind is trapped in a loop, repeating every word you said to Aron over and over again, wondering how incriminating they were, and debating how much exactly Rafe had heard.
And if he had, if he was coherent enough to either dismiss or believe the accusation that you loved him. No, not love, you shudder... in love. Aron had said, verbatim, that you were in love with him. 
"I would've handled it." You mumble with your arms crossed over your chest.
Rafe sighs as he turns his body to face you, rubbing a hand over his jaw, now partially relieved of the tension it was holding. He chews on his bottom lip cautiously, like it'll help break the fall of the words bound to spill out of his mouth, a little too unrestrained in his drunk state for his liking. 
"I know that." He nods slowly. "I just wanted to help to help you... handle it."
He stumbles a little as he moves toward you and you instinctively wrap an arm behind his torso, holding him against your body as a human splint. 
"Plus, I kinda have a reputation going for me. No one's losing their shit if I fight a guy."
"Or two." You say pointedly, thinking about his almost altercation with John B. earlier in the night. 
Rafe buries his head into your shoulder, groaning loudly into the bare skin as it heats up and vibrates. 
"Fuck, not you, too."
He lifts his head up to continue, and you lug his body towards the living room where you spot Topper talking with Kelce and some others. Without speaking, Topper seems to understand what you're saying, nodding then pointing to himself followed by the stairs. 
He'd driven you to Kelce's and you promised to stay sober and drive him back home. But now, it seemed like the plan was going to shift.
Topper would stay the night at Kelce's and take his car back in the morning. You would take Rafe's truck back to his place and walk the rest of the way. You were practically neighbours, anyway. 
"If she wants to talk shit about me to her boyfriend, that's one thing. But him, talking shit about me, to her? What's he trying to do? Turn my own sister against me?" 
"I get it, Rafe. I really do." You nod, an amused smile on your lips as you tug him out of the front door and towards his truck. "But you promised Sarah you'd be nice, remember?"
"I am being nice." He protests with his hands tapping at his chest. "I didn't even fucking touch him."
You scoff lightly as you strap Rafe in his passenger seat, noting the way his eyes begin to flutter shut. Humming softly, you poke a cold finger at his cheek and watch as they blink open again. 
"I'm taking you home, okay?" You murmur gently. 
"No!" He objects, large hand circling your wrist. He rubs his forehead with the other one, trying to remember something. "Got a meeting in the morning. Ward is gonna flip if he thinks I've been out all night fucking around."
You look at him uncertainly, waiting for the thing that you don’t want him to say, but know he will.
"Your house? Please?"
There was a time when sleepovers with Rafe were a common practice. Sometimes, after parties like this, with Kelce and Topper.
Other times when you convinced the boys to binge a new movie or TV series, usually ending with at least two of them falling asleep. Rafe made a habit of grumbling his critiques of the things he watched, but always stayed up with you. 
For a while, when he hit an especially rough patch with his dad and spent more nights than he would've liked getting high out of his mind.
As much as he'd tried not to pull anybody else into it, he found himself seeking comfort in the warmth of your bed. It helped that you always received him with open arms, even when his early morning phone calls were disorienting and he cried silently into your shirt in the hours after. 
Those nights felt so distant, and yet, like you could touch them if you reached out just far enough.
Rafe had girlfriends on and off, and sometimes that version of him felt like a stranger. You felt a strange pity for yourself when you realized that it might've been a good thing. That he was getting better and without falling back on a crutch, even if that crutch was you. Suddenly, him sleeping at your house felt weird and misplaced more than anything else. 
"I don't know, Rafe...," you begin to trail off, but the blue desperation in his eyes makes you reconsider. He's still holding tenderly at your wrist. "Fine. But if you puke on my sheets, you're done. Do you hear me?" 
Whether or not Rafe hears you is unclear, but you take the delirious smile forming on his lips as a non-verbal affirmation. He huffs out a long breath as if he can feel himself finally relaxing. His eyes start to close again, too, as you start his truck and drive the short way to your house. 
"Don't even think about falling asleep on me, Cameron. I am not lugging you up the stairs."
"You're strong." He reasons smoothly, lids still shut as he smirks. "You were about to deck the shit out of Aron Andersen when I found you."
Getting Rafe up to your bedroom goes better than you'd imagined, now with a few years of experience under your belt. 
You get him to sit down on your bed, and he fiddles with the items on your nightstand while you rummage through your armoire for an old pair of his pajamas. He complains when you throw him a pair of sweatpants and a sports t-shirt he used to wear in junior high, claiming that it'd be too tight over his arms and chest.
Plus, he'd added, it was far too hot to be wearing a shirt, anyway. 
"I love these." 
Changing into sweats of your own, you exit the bathroom to find Rafe sitting up in your bed, part of his bare torso obscured by your white sheets. His attention is fixed on a small group of rings on your bedside table, silver and gold hues reflecting under the dull rays of your lamp.
He slowly picks one up.
"Yeah, I'd hope so." You snort, tentatively slipping into bed next to him and painfully aware of the sorry excuse for space between you. "You got them all for me... kook."
Rafe cracks a sleepy smile, rolling his eyes playfully.
"You wouldn't tell me which one you wanted." He shrugs like it's the simplest thing in the world. 
He sets the ring back on the table and switches off your lamp, blanketing the room in a stroke of darkness. Rafe lies on his back and you opt to turn to your side, facing the wall.
Looking at his face only a few inches away from yours, when he's about to sleep in your bed, feels like it will be too much. 
"Asking for what you want is weird, Rafe. Nobody likes it."
You chew on your bottom lip in the dark.
"I do." He says in a scoff that turns into a yawn. "How else is anyone gonna know? People don't usually stop you and beg to find out."
You swallow roughly. That was true enough, they didn't.
But Rafe did. He always did. You revered him for it.
There's a long silence between you and all that echoes against the wood framing of your bed are the heavy and sometimes irregular sounds of your and Rafe's breathing.
Against your better judgement, you think he might've fallen asleep and almost turn around to check. 
"Is it me?" He asks quietly, voice scratchy with exhaustion. "... what you want?"
You feel your shaky breath hitch in your throat. 
"Because if it is... you don't have to ask."
His words linger in the air for as long as it takes your wildly beating hard to calm down.
By the time your body regains some feeling, the sound of Rafe's soft snores pierce the oddly crisp air clouding your room, and the choice to unpack what he said right now, or in the morning, is made for you. 
A shiver runs down from the nape of your neck to the tips of yours toes. 
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Rafe is gone by the time you wake up.
The harsh but comforting sound of rain clangs against your roof, and you stretch your limbs to the thought of a cloudy and obscure summer day. 
It's better this way, you think. The absence of Rafe's warmth next to you would feel worse if the sun was shining, teasing. 
Your fingers play underneath your comforter to locate your phone. Scrolling through your notifications, you frown seeing that none of them are from Rafe.
In his defense, it was only about 9AM now, and he'd probably just had enough time to take a quick shower, get himself the smallest bit presentable, and still barely make it to his meeting with a client.
The used bathroom towel in your hamper and flannel pajama pants hastily thrown on his side of the bed are compelling indicators. 
In his defense, he was drunk, and there was no telling if he remembered anything about last night. 
Drowsy proclamations of desire and confession, included. 
You wrestle with the idea of calling him and letting it all spill out.
Kissing him on your front lawn, in the rain, with dewy blades of grass nipping at your feet. Hands threading through his wet hair and tugging, hungrily, because you're starving and happy, and these are liberties you can afford in imagination.  
But you settle on seeing him later tonight, in person. It's your dad's charity after all. 
"I just wish you would have told me earlier." Your disappointed words hang in the air for a few moments as you play with the hem of your silky baby blue dress.
Your father had mentioned to you once before that his new business partner had a son about your age, newly graduated from UC Irvine. 
He hadn't mentioned, though, that this mystery guy would be attending the charity tonight, and he'd offered you up as his own personal tour guide.
Your father hadn't used the word date explicitly, but that's what it felt like when you were handed an odd-smelling bouquet of flowers, standing awkwardly next to the brunette who you were apparently to keep the company of all night, though he might as well have been a stranger. 
Daniel was nice enough.
He complimented your dress and your makeup, smiled and pulled out your chair before you sat down at your assigned table.
But it felt weird accepting praise and chivalry from him when your heart was busy beating erratically at the simple thought that your dress matched Rafe's eyes.  
The venue is extravagant like it always is, what with it's elaborate crystal chandeliers, ice sculptures, and floral center pieces larger than your head. 
At your table, you note your and Daniel's name cards labeling your seats. Next to them, are Topper, Kelce, and Rafe's. There's a sixth seat that has no label and you tilt your head to the side thoughtfully, considering that Topper or Kelce must be bringing a date. 
"This place is incredible. Your dad is so impressive." Daniel says in awe from the seat next to you. His eyes trail around the room, wide in amazement, reflecting back all the vibrant lights in the brown of his pupils.
You smile weakly at him, tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear that always seems to take flight despite your attention to detail.
"Yeah, he's really something. Likes to orchestrate a big show. You should see him at the winter ball. Live doves, and everything." 
Daniel nods, moving on to say something that starts to sound unintelligible when something else piques your interest. Someone else. Multiple someones, entering the banquet hall. 
Craning your neck, you make out Topper and Rafe. And a girl. 
No. Topper... and Rafe and a girl. She has her arm tucked around Rafe's as he escorts her in the direction of your table. He's wearing the grey tux you like, the one he wore to Rose's sister's wedding with the ornate thread detailing. His smile makes the two halves of your heart squeeze together. 
"Hey, you okay? You're squeezing that wine glass pretty tight there."
Daniel likely means well, eyeing the way your fist clenches around the stem of the glass you've yet to take a sip from. You shoot him an embarrassed smile and release your straining fingers.
An emotional support water bottle sounds like it would be really nice right now. 
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little nervous... my dad always gives a speech at these things." You explain.
As the trio begins to approach, you realize it's Shelley Thompson gripping Rafe's arm, a sweet girl you knew from the Kook Academy.
Even now, she always waves when you run into her at the Island Club, and she has a swing on the golf course like no other.
She's a good match for Rafe. You hate to admit it, but it's true.
When Daniel speaks again, you can barely hear him.
"I'm sure you have nothing to worry about." Daniel chuckles. "I have a hard time imagining that your dad would be bad at anything..."
Topper, having heard the tail-end of your conversation, plunks himself down in the chair across from yours and rubs his forehead tiredly. You shudder at the way he smiles empathetically at you. Like there's something to be consoled about. 
"Hangover?" You ask, shoving the shaky feeling down and shooting him a teasing smirk.
He groans loudly and buries his face in his hands.
"That's the understatement of the year. Feels like I'm getting my skull bashed in." He mutters through the skin, then he peels his head away and grimaces at the screechy music being played. If there was one thing your dad was bad it, it was decent music taste. Topper laughs heartily, shaking his head. "Then again, maybe I am." 
The lightheartedness is interrupted for a moment as Rafe and Shelley pull up to the table, taking their seats accordingly. Rafe rakes his eyes over Daniel for a few seconds, but otherwise stays silent and it makes you frown. You look at him, desperately trying to uncover if he remembers any details from last night, but his expression is unreadable.
Shelley, on the other hand, grins at you enthusiastically and starts to chat with you about the time she interned at your dad's company. 
You find yourself glancing at Rafe every so often, each time catching him staring blankly ahead or at his lap, and always fidgeting with his fingers. 
"Who's this?" He asks suddenly, nodding his head at the man next to you. 
"Oh." You swallow. "This is Daniel."
Finding that insufficient, Daniel takes it as an opportunity to formally introduce himself. 
"That's me." Daniel waves sheepishly, gently squeezing your shoulder with his other hand. "Y/N's been showing me around. Well, her and her dad. I really love what Mr. Y/L/N's been doing with his company. He does some incredible work out here. It's not often that you see-,"
Topper snickers when he cuts him off. 
"Maybe he should've been your date."
Daniel laughs it off, blushing slightly and concealing it in a short cough. But you kick Topper under the table in retaliation, ignoring the way he holds his shin and groans out a soft "Ow!". 
After that, Shelley, Topper, and Daniel divulge into conversation, shifting from topic to topic and at some points, sharing boisterous laughs together.
Rafe keeps his lips pressed together and his words concise. While you fiddle with your utensils, you feel his eyes on you, igniting heat under your skin. 
He stares at you hard, like he's waiting for you to say something. Begging, even, with the way his forehead tenses and his brow stays quirked.
But you didn't know what to say.
Or maybe you didn't know how to say it. Especially not here. Especially not when he had a date. 
Rafe rolls his eyes and chews on the inside of his cheek, standing from the table abruptly, the movement making the cutlery tremble.
"Hey, I have an idea." He says while tugging on Shelley's hand. "Let's dance."
You watch as Shelley squeals with excitement, jumping from her seat to follow Rafe towards the center of the large room where the music is playing. 
"Couldn't pay me to get closer to that band." Topper mumbles offhandedly. You're sure he's trying to make it sting less, but some pains don't have a perfect antidote. 
Daniel sends you a look, silently asking if you want to join them. 
"Maybe later." You reply quietly. 
Watching Rafe wrap his arm around Shelley's waist, you feel your heart sink slowly into your stomach.
In the middle of Daniel's rambling and Topper's occasional acknowledging hums, you rise from your seat and stumble into the courtyard for some fresh air.
Surely, your heart would keep sinking if you saw any more, and your heels were too tight to fit anything else. 
The courtyard is a beautiful mix of greenery, fairy lights, and concrete statues, but it does little to ease the ache in your chest. You sit on a stone bench and try to control your breathing with your head between your knees. 
Though it's turbulent and shallow at best.
"What's wrong?"
You know it's Rafe without looking up. Sighing into the palms of your hand, you slide them down from your face and lift your head up. Surely, your makeup is smudged, and the thought makes you more miserable.
"Nothing." You say more sharply than you intended. "Nothing's wrong. Just go away, Rafe."
He looks at you completely scandalized. 
"Are you... mad at me?"
You let out a deep breathe, averting your gaze to the ground as you collect yourself. "No, I'm not mad. Why would I be mad?"
Rafe scoffs, entirely unconvinced. He rakes a hand through his hair in frustration. 
"Well, fuck, if this is 'not mad', then I don't want to see what mad looks like." 
"Can you just drop it? Please, Rafe? Drop it?" You beg, sniffling slightly as you stand. You hadn't noticed when your cheeks started to get wet. Likely too much in denial.
Despite the way it's honoured you in the past, crying was offering no release at this point. It's not like any of this was Rafe's fault. Even if he had gotten your hopes up last night, he wasn't obligated to act on drunken pillow talk. Maybe he hadn't meant it in the first place and was only trying to make you feel better.
"You won't talk to me." He says sadly.
You bite down on every explanation you want to give him. Chest pain heavy and unrelenting.
"Just... go back to Shelley, Rafe. She's probably waiting for you."
Rafe looks puzzled when the words fall weakly out of your mouth.
Then, he nods, like something finally clicks for him. He meets your eyes with fervor as he presses his lips together.
"So, this is about Shelley?" He asks.
Your head hangs and silence intensifies between you. It speaks for itself.
"The same Shelley that's been fucking Kelce on and off for the past two years?"
He watches your mouth fall open and eyebrows furrow, continuing as you stare at him.
"Kelce promised to take her out on a real date, but then he got caught up at work... asked me to keep Shelley company until he showed up. We didn't come here together, together, Y/N. I thought you knew that." 
Your mind buzzes as he speaks, bottom lip wedged under your teeth.
So, he wasn't here with Shelley. And he probably did remember both what he heard and said last night if he could recognize that you were jealous.
Jealous. It makes you squeeze your eyes shut. The feeling was always two-fold. A person would feel jealous, then humiliated that they had. You don't know which one is worse.
You peak an eye open, chewing through your words. "Why couldn't Topper do it?" 
"Have you met Topper?"
That was a good point. 
Still reeling from the new information, you look down at your lap pensively.
"But you did." Rafe begins after a few beats of silence. When you frown in confusion, he clarifies. "... come here with someone."
You crane your neck up to look at him. There's something you can't place in his eyes, but it's cloudy and all-consuming. His hair is a mess from the way he's been ruffling through it, and his cheeks are flushed and tight.
"What, Daniel? Are you kidding me? I only brought him because my dad ask-," you begin to explain, but Rafe cuts you off. 
"I don’t care why he thinks he can touch you. I just want him to stop.”
Despite the small gust of wind that blows past you both, you feel a warmth at the base of your neck... in the palms of your hands. Maybe it was the beams of light overhead, illuminating your bodies amidst the greenery.
Or, maybe it was just Rafe's words.
The intensity of his gaze. The way he steps towards you as he speaks them, warm hand eventually reaching out to graze over your cheek in a way that makes you gasp in a mixture of shock and excitement. 
For a moment, you think about yourself and the many soul-crushing nights spent watching Rafe talk to and touch and kiss other people, the overlapping visuals making you queasy. 
"I know the feeling." You say quietly, hot breath fanning over his face.
Rafe frowns a little, soaking up the meaning of your words. He nudges his face closer to yours, until your noses are touching and his lips just barely graze over the pair he desperately wants to taste. He draws back suddenly, suspending all the air in your lungs. 
He eyes you cautiously, challenging silently as he licks his lips.
"Not gonna do anything unless you ask." 
You nearly cry out in response. "Rafe, please. I... I want you." Ignoring the way your desperation makes your skin feel tingly and your head spin, you shut your eyes tightly, realizing that only really skimmed the surface. You try again, gulping. "I've always wanted you."
"Fuck." He breathes out, eyes fluttering shut. "Never stop saying that." 
Stifling the sound of another whine from your lips, Rafe kisses you feverishly.
He moves his soft lips in tandem with yours, swallowing each of your breathy moans. One of his hands traces over the swell of your jaw while the other stretches tenderly around your throat. "Know what I wanted to do when I saw you sitting there next to him?" 
You nearly scream in protest when Rafe pulls his lips off yours, but fall silent when he trails kisses down from your jaw to your neck and collarbones, sloppily sucking the skin then laving his tongue over the afflicted areas. Unsatisfied until your pushing his head away from the sensitivity. 
"Wanted to knock his fucking teeth out." He murmurs with his head buried in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent and leaving searing kisses. "But I don't do that shit anymore. So I'll ruin his night a different way."
Rafe moves your body with his until the backs of your knees hit the concrete bench. Your mouth falls open as he sits you down on it, kneeling in front of you. He presses a ticklish kiss to your knee and his bright blue eyes peer up at you through his lashes. When you nod, he parts your thighs and pulls your panties down in a single unbroken movement, committing every second to memory.
He stares longer than he should, groaning at the way your wetness collects on his finger when he traces a finger over your slit, spreading you apart. 
"Can't believe," he moans into your mound, running the flat of his tongue over your center again and again. "... you kept me from this pussy for so long." 
You throw your head back at the sensation, finding nothing but air and Rafe to support you as pulls you closer to his mouth.
"That," you say in a broken moan at the feeling of Rafe's tongue inside you. "That's your fault, remember? I was always here — shit! Waiting for you.”
Rafe hums against your pussy at that, neither agreeing or disagreeing. His nose nudges your clit as he tastes you greedily. You tug at his hair to dissipate some of the energy building inside your core, but it only makes Rafe work harder. 
"Didn't think I deserved you." He admits, pink lips mesmerizing and wet with your slick and his spit. Rafe takes your clit into his mouth and sucks obscenely, the slurping sound sending a flash of heat through you. "Doesn't matter now. I'm good at making up for lost time..."
Your thighs clamp around Rafe's head as he fucks you with his tongue. It's only now, as gasps and high-pitched sounds fall wantonly from your lips that you come to the reality that you're letting Rafe eat you out in the courtyard, and anybody from the party could come here and find you. Still, you moan less controlled than you would have hoped when he suckles at your clit again, drinking at your sopping pussy.
"Hey, have some common decency, huh? There's some very nice people in there trying to enjoy a party." 
Rafe smirks when you pull at his hair even harder, mostly at the thought that you think it could be reprimanding when he likes it so much. His teasing does more to turn you on than you'd care to admit and he can tell with the way you gush around him.
"One of em's your date." He adds, laughing slightly as he curls his tongue inside you. Entranced at the way it makes you whimper and writhe like putty under him. He starts rubbing your clit with his thumb at the same time, chasing the crest of your orgasm. "C'mon, baby. Give it to me. Come all over my tongue." 
Your release makes your back rise off of the slab of cement you're seated on, thighs slotted over Rafe's shoulders as he licks you through your climax.
The pleasure is insurmountable, your mouth falling open and your eyes screwing shut as that familiar feeling completely overwhelms your senses, the burn of your elbows against the cement keeping you anchored to the ground. 
Rafe smiles when you pull him by the belt of his dress pants to capture his mouth in a long and sweet kiss. It helps clean up the residual wetness. 
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By the time Kelce makes it your father's charity event, he sighs tiredly into the crown of Shelley's head, pressing a wet kiss there in greeting. On his way in, he got trapped in a conversation with your father and some guy he'd never seen before named Daniel who was more inclined to kiss your dad's ass than he was to breathe.
Finally taking his seat next to a very drunk Topper, he squints his eyes at the sight before him. You and Rafe, unable to keep your hands off each other, giggling at nothing in particular. And when not giggling, kissing.
"Are you seeing this shit?" Kelce asks Topper, gesturing towards his two closest friends shoving their tongues down each other's throats. Shamelessly, at that.
"Dude." Topper groans, sighing like this was no surprise to him. "Where the fuck have you been?"
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a/n: thank you for reading! comments/reblogs appreciated!!
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sematarygirls · 2 months
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my headcanons of rafe with an s/o that has anxiety (very soft, hates everyone but you rafe)
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firstly, this man is always always ALWAYS worried about you. like, sometimes you swear he has the anxiety not you by how overbearing he is— but of course you love it
he makes you feel so safe and secure.
makes sure that he locks every door, window, anything that leads to the outside to soothe your worries, despite how many times he'd insist that nothing bad would happen to you living in figure 8.
he tries his best to push you to do things out of your comfort zone because he knows it would be good for you, but he never forces you.
whenever you two go out, he does all the talking. he knows how nervous you get speaking to strangers and how embarrassed you get when you stutter talking to a waiter or cashier, so he does it for you.
he knows exactly how to soothe you when you find yourself panicking. he holds your hand, caressing the back of it with his thumb, whispering reassuring things into your ear, and reminding you to breathe.
walks slow in public and keeps a firm hold on you. he's always holding your hand or looping his arm around yours or securing his arm around your waist to hold you close because he knows how nervous you get in crowded places, that fear of getting separated always creeping in.
he holds you tight on nights where the stress and worry all pour into your mind at once. he kisses your head, pets your hair, rubs your back, and is just there for you while you cry. he doesn't try to pry anything out of you. he's just there to comfort you and listen whenever you feel ready.
he doesn't mock or condescend your fears, however irrational they may be. and he won't tolerate anyone else doing it. he wouldn't think twice about throwing punches at anyone who made fun of you.
he tries to steer you away from bad habits like skin picking, nail biting, cheek biting— things like that. he's constantly looking up alternatives and ways to break habits because he knows it's not good for you, and he wants you to be safe.
always makes sure he's ready to go anywhere atleast an hour in advance because he knows how stressed you get about being late
his compliments of you are never ending !! seriously, this man is obsessed with how you look— and your charming personality, of course. he knows how insecure you are about how you look, and it just bewilders him because you're the most stunning person he's ever laid his eyes on.
let's you play with his hands and rings and whatever else you need to fiddle with to destress no matter what he's doing.
drives you absolutely everywhere and anywhere. you are his passenger princess through and through. he won't let you take public transportation, he knows how stressed you'd get, and he knows how worried you are getting behind the wheel of your own car, so he makes sure you know that he's your own personal chauffer. anytime you need him, he will be there.
buys you a promise ring as a symbol of his commitment to you. whenever you get into one of your anxious or depressed moods where you've convinced yourself that he doesn't actually like you and that you're a burden, he grabs your hand and makes you look at the ring, telling you that there's no one else he'd rather be with and that you're the light of his life. he promises to love you until he takes his last breath.
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drewstarkeyslut · 6 months
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What do you mean he’s a murderer?? I need him.
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bisexualbuckleyy · 13 days
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if rafe and barry fucked i don’t think it would fix anything but it would be funny
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rafescurtainbangz · 8 days
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season 2 rafe link
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entangledmuses · 2 months
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Chrissy and Rafe
@byronlc / @unhlnged Please do not reblog unless you are tagged.
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acinnamongirlsdiary · 3 months
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The writers of obx are def not from NC because if they were they would know that no teenager is gonna be surprised or against bringing/using a gun. Like NC is the gun capital of the world
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xxbimbobunnyxx · 5 months
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Rafey n his lil angel.🐇🖤🔪
(You might see me posting stuff from other fandoms sometimes now, just fair warning.)
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beautifuldisaster88 · 2 months
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Don't Blame Me
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A/N: I just randomly came up with this whole listening to Taylor Swift's song Don't Blame Me. I feel like that would so be Unhinged!Rafe and InnocentTurnedUnhinged!Girlfriend. Like they would do whatever it takes to protect each other. Sorry in advance if it sucks. I didn't proofread or anything. Simply wrote it and posted right after.
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She ran as fast as her legs would take her the moment that she found out Barry planned on betraying Rafe, and turning him in. After trying over and over again to call Rafe, having no luck, she panicked, throwing her phone as she kept running. Her chest tightened and breathing became more difficult, but a panic attack wasn't going to stop her from getting to Rafe.
Drenched in sweat and out of breath, she spotted the Kildare County Sheriff's department boats, making her worst nightmare come true. It was too late. They'd found him. No, fuck that! Nobody was taking her love away, not even the fucking law. That's when she spotted him, face smashed into the mud and a large deputy on top of his. From what she could see, they already had her man in handcuffs. Wrong move, assholes.
Removing her gun, well Ward's gun, from the waistband of her shorts, she quickly turned off the safety, and stepped out from behind a tree and pointing it straight at Shoupe's head. All eyes were on her, including Rafe's. An eerie silence washed over those who were meant to serve and protect.
"You've got two options here, Shoupe. One, you let Rafe go and forget any of this happened. You destroy every file, every piece of evidence, anything that pertains to Rafe. Option number two." She cocked the gun, the click echoing from the dead silence. "I don't think you're going to like option two. Two, I pull the trigger and put a bullet in your fucking skull. Then you can reunite with Peterkin. Sure, I might not be fast enough to shoot all of you, but you can bet your asses, I'm taking most of you down with me. Your choice, Shoupe."
She took a step closer, more than ready to shoot. The look in her eyes was unlike any they'd ever seen. The once sweet and innocent girl was gone, replaced with a stone cold killer. After all, she was just a girl in love, and that meant protecting the man she loved at all costs. Consequences be damned.
"You don't wanna do that. You're not like him. You're not a killer." Shoupe tried to plead with her, but his words were useless. He might as well have been a baby babbling.
"That's where you're wrong. Now, I'm going to count to three and if your buddy still doesn't back the fuck away from Rafe, he'll be the first to reunite with Peterkin. One."
"Think this through. Is he really worth losing your life over? I know you, you're a good girl. You've got a clean record. Can't you see what he's doing to you? He's poisoned you."
"Yes. Yes, he is worth losing my life over, and he's not fucking poisoning me! He just helped me realize who I truly am. Also, you don't know shit about me. None of you fucking do! Whatever blood is on his hands, I've got the same on mine. Two. Don't make me get to three, Shoupe. I'm warning you."
The deputy that had Rafe on the ground, dug his knee deeper into the Cameron boys back. "Get the fuck off me! Don't you dare fucking hurt her, Shoupe! I'll fucking kill you myself if anything happens to her!" Rafe yelled, trying his damnedest to fight off the deputy. Having his hands cuffed behind his back wasn't helping. He panicked, picturing the worst. He had to get free, had to save his angel.
"Three. Don't say I didn't warn you."
In the blink of an eye, she had the gun pointed at the deputy's head, finger on the trigger and ready to shoot.
"Don't blame me, love made me crazy. If it doesn't you ain't doing it right."
"WAIT! WAIT! DON'T SHOOT!" Shoupe screamed, looking between her and the deputy, his hands up in surrender. The look in her eyes said everything, she was going to kill the deputy. Love really had made her crazy. The other deputy's shot hesitant looks at one another, but slowly began to lower their weapons.
"Let the boy go." Shoupe instructed him, earning a look as though he'd lost his mind.
"He killed Peterkin! This bastard is going to rot behind bars." The deputy spat, digging his knee deeper into Rafe's back.
"I SAID LET HIM GO DAMNIT! OR THE GIRL WILL SHOOT! WE DON'T NEED ANYMORE BLOOD SPILLED!"
Doing as he was told, the deputy uncuffed Rafe, releasing his weight off the Cameron boys back, making Rafe smirk... That was until he saw the deputy reaching for his gun in his holster, eyes glued on the only girl that Rafe has ever loved. Oh no he didn't, nobody was shooting his girl.
In one swift motion, Rafe wrestled the deputy to the ground, grabbing his gun and hitting him in the head with it, hard enough to knock the big guy on his ass. With both of them still pointing their guns at the officer's, Rafe quickly made his way to her side.
Taking her hand, they laced their fingers together, both glancing over at each other.
"Together until the end, yeah?" Rafe whispered to her.
She nodded, squeezing his hand. "Together until the end, baby. I love you, Rafe."
"I love you too, angel. If we make it outta here, 'm taking you far away and we're gonna start that life we always talked about, yeah? Yeah. I promise."
Shots rang as the couple began shooting at the deputy's, trying their hardest to dodge the bullets as they shot back.
"Shit. Motherfucker shot me!" She hissed, grabbing her side as she put a bullet into the deputy's skull. Her side hurt like a motherfucker, the pain worse than anything she'd ever experienced. Still, she wasn't about to just lay down and die. No, they'd come this far, and this was not how her and Rafe's story ended.
"angel, you okay!? Talk to me, baby!" Rafe yelled out from behind a tree, trying to avoid the flying bullets that hit the bark above his head. The panic evident in his voice.
"Yeah, yeah, m'fine. Don't worry 'bout me."
Rafe could tell by the sound of her voice that she was lying. He knew her inside and out, and knew when she was lying. She wasn't fucking okay. He couldn't lose her. No, not her. Without thinking twice, he ran out from behind the tree, staying crouched down as he ran towards her, dodging bullets as he shot at the remaining officer's along the way. Shoupe was nowhere to be seen, meaning the pussy ran and left his deputy's to die. Not surprising.
As soon as Rafe reached her, he wrapped an arm around her, using his strength to keep her on her feet. The color in her face was fading, white tank top now soaked in crimson.
"We gotta go, baby. Gotta get you outta here and patched up. You're fucking crazy, you know that?"
He chuckled, shaking his head as he quickly planted a kiss on the side of her head, before scooping her up in his arms.
"Like I said, don't blame me love made me crazy."
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velvet-paradox · 2 years
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Seen (preview)
"Are you playing Jenga... by yourself?" You smiled, Rafe's big body was sitting on the floor of your living room, just pulling out a middle block when you got home. It was strange to see someone in your house after living alone for so long, let alone the Kook King himself. Rafe pushed back his hair, ready to make his next move.
"What else am I gonna' do?" Rafe rolled his eyes.
"I'm surprised you're not wasting your battery on your phone. Call up one of your buddies to take you instead of me."
You noticed how he worked his jaw and cracked his neck, placing the block to the top of the tower. "Got a little silly waiting to see if my dad would call so I turned it off. If he wanted me home, I would be."
"How long do you think you're gonna' hang around The Cut now that you're an honorary Pogue and all?"
"I'm not a Pogue." Rafe snapped.
"I wouldn't be so sure," You made a face and joined him on the floor, taking a block of your own before responding. "Let's see... you got in a blowout with a parent, check. Their giving you the silent treatment for emphasis of how much they stand by their said statement, double check. You got kicked out of the house and all of your lovely amenities and are crashing on someone's couch, triple check. And by all those accounts, that definitely has Pogue written all over it!"
"Oh fuck off."
"You can stay as long as you need to, if you need a ride somewhere just ask." You watched the block of choice slide out.
"I can drive, ya' know?"
"Yeah, your truck, not mine."
"I'm not gonna' total it! I need to get some clothes at least, I've never worn the same outfit two days in a row in my life. Gross."
"Oh shut up, live a little. You don't have to prove anything to me, Rafe. I know you." You said and took your turn.
Rafe's next words made you second guess the blonde.
"Nobody knows me."
Tagging: @cherienymphe @synnersaint @hoebx @valeriecameron @starkeyobx @outerbankspov @cockslutpadalecki
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abushelandablog · 1 year
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Inside the head of the eldest Cameron child
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thanaredreamtof · 11 months
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Closed for @unhlnged continued from here
Felicity couldn’t help but raise her eyebrows at his demanding tone. She was going to offer him a drink anyways before he asked for a coffee, but she thought it was curious how quick he was to make himself comfortable. “Sure” was all she replied, as she switched on the heating again. Twenty minutes of heat won’t make much of a difference to the diners bill, but might to his health for the night, she figured. She had already turned off the good coffee machine so the guy would just have to settle for the one from the pot, but she wasn’t going to explain that to him. Something told her that he’d only want her to turn the whole thing back on again.
She poured him a cup before walking over to where he was sitting She only gave him a lined smile as she placed it on the table. “Coffee at this hour” she mused, looking at him, “have you got a long journey ahead or?” She asked, before her eyes moved to the windows as well, and she watched as the rain poured down on them. Her car was parked just outside the diner, so she wouldn’t have to run far when she was finished.
“You’re welcome to stay anyways for awhile, I’ve a few more jobs to do anyways before I lock up properly” she said to him as she moved across the floor to grab her mop. She checked her phone, and to her surprise it was getting close to midnight. She yawned, realising what a long day she’d had there, and how she’d be back again tomorrow. “So are you from around here?” She asked him as she started on the floors. She’d just moved there, and didn’t know anyone really apart from a few friends she’d met over the few weeks.
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enchante-em · 1 year
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drew starkey would absolutely do karaoke and it be so bad that it’s really great
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iateurbreadwhoops · 1 year
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seeing ppl who read way too much wattpad mafia fan fiction so passionate abt how much “chemistry” kie and rafe have and how badly they want them together… it is so insane😭
that is not chemistry she was only sort of nice to him to protect herself and bc she’s terrified of him (very rightfully so)
pls stop shipping female characters w literal murderers and sociopaths just bc u think they’re hot. it’s fucking weird 😭
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