obxobsessedbitch

“This is fuckin’ stupid, Shoupe,” JJ complained for the third time in the last ten minutes. They were sat in an office, he’d finally had the cuffs taken off of him after an hour of waiting around.

“Topper’s nose is broken, seems pretty straight to me. Multiple witnesses of you beating him up at your place of work,” Shoupe responded.

JJ huffed, rolling his eyes as he looked away. “You weren’t there. You didn’t see what he was gonna do to Y/N.”

“And what was that?” Shoupe asked. The fact he didn’t sound even a little curious showed JJ it didn’t matter. It wouldn’t matter if he’d tried to set you on fire or throw you off a building, why would it matter if he’d tried to hit you? He stayed silent. “That’s what I thought. Look, JJ, you’re an adult now. You can be tried as an adult. You’re lookin’ at over 10 grand and we both know you don’t have that kind of money.”

“10 thousand dollars?” JJ scoffed. “I broke his nose, not his entire face.”

“The ambulance, er bills, he’s gonna need surgery. It all adds up,” Shoupe explained.

“An ambulance?” JJ snorted.

“I’ve talked to Topper myself and he’s said this has been an ongoing thing for years and it needs to come to a halt. You need to leave him alone,” Shoupe lectured.

“Me? You’ve gotta be shittin’ me, man. That kid tortured me and my friends for years,” JJ argued.

“You’re not gonna get locked up, okay? He doesn’t want you locked up, surprisingly. But he wants the money, and if you can’t pay it then you’re lookin’ at doing time,” Shoupe sighed.

“Well, how long have I got?” JJ huffed. It didn’t matter. He could be given ten years and he still wouldn’t have a spare ten grand laying around.

For the first time ever, JJ thought there was a chance he may actually be getting locked up.

“That’ll be between you and him,” Shoupe responded. “Do you understand these terms?”

“Yeah, I understand,” JJ muttered bitterly. “Guess I’ll be seein’ you soon, then?”

“You’re lucky that girl followed you down here and paid the bail, or you’d be stayin’ the night,” Shoupe sighed. That girl? JJ raised an eyebrow. “Her father would be disappointed if he knew that was what she was spending her money on.”

JJ was led out, and waiting for him in reception was none other than you and John B. John B looked stressed out, hands tugging on his hair, pacing around the room. You, on the other hand, sat with your leg crossed over the other looking as bored as ever.

“What have I told you about hittin’ the wrong people?” John B hissed as soon as JJ had gotten close enough for him to be grabbed by the shirt.

“Take the bitch fight outside,” you reprimanded, standing up.

“You paid my bail?” JJ questioned, eyes narrowed. The two of you had been getting along well recently, but that didn’t mean he expected you to spend money on him. Especially when it was a waste, he’d be back in soon enough thanks to Topper.

“John B looked close to a heart attack. I’d rather pay that than have a mourning Sarah Cameron on my hands,” you shrugged.

“I’ll pay you back,” JJ stated. He’d try, although there was a chance he never would be able to.

“I don’t care about money. Take it as a thankyou for saving my face,” you shrugged.

The three of you walked outside, your car was parked down the steps; JJ figured you hadn’t let John B drive in his state of panic. “What’d they say?” John B asked nervously.

“Ten grand,” JJ muttered. “Hospital bills.”

“Fuck me,” John B gasped.

“Yep.”

“We don’t have ten grand, JJ,” John B stated bluntly.

“Damn, really? Here I was thinking we were made of money. I know we don’t have ten grand!” JJ argued, voice raising.

“We could ask Kiara? Or Sarah?” John B suggested, starting to pace once again. JJ was used to it by now, it was his go-to whenever he was panicking but didn’t want to show it.

“I’m not taking that much of your new girlfriend. Kiara has money, but not that much. Besides, I’m pretty sure her parents wouldn’t be too happy and would probably call the cops and say I stole it,” JJ muttered. “I’ll— I'll work it out, a’ight? I’ll talk to Topper-”

“Oh, you’re going nowhere near Topper! You stay away from him,” you chimed in, digging your finger into his chest.

“What other option have I got? Not all of us can afford a new designer handbag every damn week!” JJ shouted. You didn’t flinch, just stared back at him unimpressed and irritated. That was worse than you yelling back at him. Now he just felt embarrassed, he assumed that was your intention.

“I’ll drop the two of you home,” you stated, unlocking your car to climb in the drivers side. John B got in quickly, JJ hesitated but one look from you told him if he didn’t hurry up he’d definitely be walking.

Ten grand? If only that was how much he’d be making from winning this bet.

—

older!brother's bsf!rafe who pops by your house almost everyday and with different excuses. "hey, is topper here?" "forgot my keys" "needed to ask your mom somethin'", etc.

older!brother's bsf!rafe who, if you look close at every single family photo you've had together, from seven to now eighteen, he's constantly near you, by a one person distance max, and in the short occassion he's not, you can bet his eyes are on you.

older!brother's bsf!rafe who makes sure that there's food for you whenever you're around him. cookout? he's slipping half of his food onto your plate. dinner? you'll find that you have the most servings.

older!brother's bsf!rafe who's only had one girlfriend in the entire nine years you've known him. you remember when you were fourteen, sobbing your eyes out in your bed as top told you the news, only to find that they'd mysteriously broken up a week later.

older!brother's bsf!rafe who tells topper to go easy on you without you knowing. the pair will be hanging out, topper's feet up on the table while rafe scratches his arms.

"dude, she's been pissing me off so much."

"i'm sure you piss her off too."

"nah, not to the -"

"go easy on her."

older!brother's bsf!rafe who's given you flowers every valentine's, a tradition that started when you didn't get one that made you bawl your eyes out when you were much younger but just stuck. you who doesn't know that he gives them because he wants to, not because you think that topper's forcing him too.

older!brother's bsf!rafe who's always been the only option for you, he's just waiting patiently for you to see it.

© BITTERSWEETLYBLUE. do not copy, translate, edit my work then claim it as your own, attempt to plagarise or repost it on any other website nor feed into AI. you will be blocked.

he listened.

really listened.

and somehow, that was the thing that made you fall the hardest.

that friday evening had been simple. dinner at a quiet italian restaurant tucked away from the busy streets, followed by a slow walk through downtown while the storefront lights reflected across the sidewalks. he’d held your hand almost the entire time, his thumb lazily brushing over your knuckles as the two of you wandered without much of a destination. neither of you seemed interested in rushing the night to an end.

eventually, you found yourselves back at his house.

it was beautiful without being flashy. warm wood floors, shelves lined with framed photographs, the faint scent of vanilla and cedar lingering in the air. unlike the sleek bachelor apartments you’d seen before, this place looked lived in. comfortable. like a home instead of a showroom.

your eyes wandered toward a picture sitting on the mantle.

a little girl with sandy blond curls sat on rafe’s shoulders at what looked like the beach, both of them laughing so hard neither had noticed the camera.

your smile softened.

“she’s adorable.”

rafe looked over.

his entire expression changed.

the confident businessman disappeared, replaced by something much gentler.

“that’s emma.”

he walked over and picked up the frame almost instinctively.

“she’s eight.”

“she looks just like you.”

he chuckled.

“everyone says that.” he studied the picture for another second before setting it back down carefully. “thankfully she got her mom’s personality.”

“i doubt that.”

“trust me.”

you laughed quietly.

“where is she tonight?”

“with her mom.” he leaned against the fireplace, folding his arms. “we split custody.”

there wasn’t bitterness in his voice.

just acceptance.

you nodded.

“was it… hard?”

his eyes found yours.

“the divorce?”

“yeah.”

he was quiet for a long moment.

“harder than i ever expected.”

you sat beside him on the couch, giving him space to decide how much he wanted to say.

after another few seconds, he continued.

“we got married young. thought love would fix everything.” he smiled to himself, though there wasn’t much happiness behind it. “turns out love doesn’t solve poor communication.”

you listened without interrupting.

“we weren’t bad people,” he said. “we just stopped being good for each other.”

“do you still talk?”

“for emma.” he nodded. “and honestly… we’re better parents now than we ever were spouses.”

there was something incredibly mature about the way he spoke.

no insults.

no blaming.

just honesty.

“she’s lucky.”

his eyebrows lifted.

“emma.”

you smiled.

“she has parents who clearly love her enough to put her first.”

for a second, rafe simply looked at you.

then he smiled in that quiet way he’d started doing whenever you said something that surprised him.

“you’re something else.”

heat crept into your cheeks.

before you could respond, he reached over, gently brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

his fingers lingered for only a second.

long enough for your heart to speed up.

“can i kiss you?” he asked softly.

you smiled.

“yes.”

his hand rested lightly against your jaw as he leaned in, giving you every opportunity to pull away if you wanted to.

instead, you met him halfway.

the kiss was slow.

careful.

nothing rushed.

nothing demanding.

just warm lips against yours and the quiet realization that no one had ever kissed you like they actually wanted to savor the moment.

when you finally pulled back, your forehead rested lightly against his.

you took a steadying breath.

“there’s… something i should probably tell you.”

he immediately leaned back enough to look at you

his expression never changed.

never became impatient.

“go ahead.”

your hands twisted together nervously in your lap.

“i’m a virgin.”

you watched carefully for his reaction.

there wasn’t one.

he simply waited.

“and…” you swallowed. “i’m waiting until i’m married.”

silence settled between you.

for half a second, every insecurity your ex had ever planted threatened to come rushing back.

then rafe smiled.

a genuine one.

“okay.”

you blinked.

“…okay?”

“okay.”

he shrugged lightly, like you’d just told him your favorite color.

“that’s your decision.”

you stared at him.

“that’s it?”

he looked almost confused.

“what else would there be?”

“most people…”

“i’m not most people.”

his voice remained calm.

“if that’s something that’s important to you, then it’s important to me too.”

your shoulders relaxed so quickly you hadn’t even realized you’d been tense.

“you’re not disappointed?”

he reached for your hand.

“i asked you out because i like spending time with you.” his thumb traced slow circles across your skin. “not because i expected anything from you.”

your eyes began to sting.

he noticed immediately.

“hey.”

he smiled gently.

“don’t cry.”

you laughed through the embarrassing lump in your throat.

“i’m trying not to.”

“good.”

he squeezed your hand once.

“because i’d rather spend tonight learning more about you.”

you smiled.

“that’s funny.”

“why?”

“i was actually hoping to learn more about you.”

he laughed quietly.

“careful.”

“why?”

“i’ve got thirty-eight years’ worth of stories.”

you settled farther into the couch beside him, your shoulder brushing his.

“good.”

he smiled as he looked over at you.

“it’s going to be a long night then.”

“i was hoping it would be.”

and for hours afterward, the two of you stayed curled up on the couch talking about everything that had made you who you were. childhood memories, embarrassing teenage stories, the first time he’d held emma in the hospital and realized nothing in his life would ever matter more than being her father, your grandmother teaching you how to bake pies from scratch, the music both of you loved, the places you still wanted to visit someday. somewhere around midnight, you realized the best part of falling for rafe wasn’t the flowers or the dates or even the way he kissed you.

“Baby,” Rafe calls out in hopes that you’re just in the bathroom. He stares at the ajar door leading to the toilet, but it doesn’t move. No one responds to him. A few birds chirp outside his window, and he finally realises that he’s completely alone right now.

He pouts. Rafe Cameron pouts, because there’s no one here to see him act like a child and he’s missing his pretty girlfriend too much. You left him to wake up alone, so that must mean you hate him.

Fuck. He knew it. He knew you hated him. He’s had a feeling for a good amount of time. An angel like you should never settle for a bullshit of a boyfriend like himself, and you realised that yourself at last.

So Rafe trudges down the stairs of Tannyhill in an absolutely foul mood, sending glares toward every corner despite being alone in the Cameron estate. But even then, even as he’s pouting and frowning and waiting to punch anyone who appears in front of him, he’s still hoping that with every edge he turns, you might appear.

You don’t. Maybe that’s because he hasn’t really turned any corners at all, but still. You don’t appear. You just don’t.

Have you really left? Left Rafe alone to wallow in his misery once again? He hasn’t not had you in a while, and truth be told, he’s gotten too used to it. He knows he shouldn’t, but he can’t help it. He loves you too much, and he needs you too much. Every second of every day.

“Baby …” he whines in frustration, to no one in particular, as he enters the kitchen, expression contorted like he’s holding back tears. He runs a rough hand through his buzzed hair and tries to grip and pull on his strands, but then he remembers that he doesn’t have that hair anymore.

(He should’ve listened to you when you told him not to shave off all his hair. Is that why you left him? Fuck. He hates his past self now. Why didn’t he listen?)

Rafe heads straight for the coffee machine, grumbling under his breath about how you “better be surprising me with head for scaring me like this.”

“The fuck?”

He whips around, almost spraining a muscle. His eyes are as wide as saucers, pupils blown so wide that the blue of his irises is almost nonexistent. Rafe swallows hard, Adam’s apple bobbing as he stares straight at you.

Shit. Did she hear that?

“What’s got your panties in a fuckin’ twist?” you scoff lightheartedly, amusement lacing your features as you laugh softly. You’re holding a mug, filled with your morning coffee already, and Rafe thinks he might cry.

Your lips part again so you can say something, but Rafe doesn’t hear a single word at all. His mind is racing, and his heart is beating too loudly in his chest. He can hear his heartbeat speeding up with every second that passes, and the pace with which he approaches you almost matches the rate his heart is going at.

“No— Nonononono, my coffee—” you sputter, attempting to save your day’s life support by leaving it safe on the nearest counter. A good half of it spills anyway when Rafe throws himself at you, clutching you so tightly you wonder if you’ve done something wrong.

The base of your mug clatters against the marble counter. Rafe buries his face into your neck, inhaling your scent like he’s forgotten it over the time he spent without you in bed with him. He lets out a soft sound that’s a little too similar to a dog’s pitiful whimper.

His nose twitches. “Why did you leave?”

You roll your eyes, but hug him back just as firmly. You’re a little pissed that you’ve lost some of your energy in the form of caffeine, but you have no capacity to think about that as Rafe hugs you so close you’re practically one figure now.

“I was literally just going back up,” you deadpan, patting his back gently, trying to soothe him. You swear he’s crying into your shoulder — is he sniffling? Whining? You’re not sure. You do know that he’s sulking, though. He always does.

And then the proof comes: Rafe groans, the sound muffled from the way he presses his face against you. It’s familiar, because you’ve heard it countless times over the course of your relationship. Which is practically every single fucking day.

He doesn’t say anything, much to your exasperation. He never says anything though, so you don’t know why you’re so pressed. You file that thought away and focus on soothing your big baby of a boyfriend.

For a few very long moments, the two of you stay like that. You’re not sure how much time has passed, but it’s enough for you to grow tired on your feet (because you haven’t had your morning coffee yet).

“Can we—?” you begin, but Rafe cuts you off promptly.

“I thought you left,” he says sadly into your neck, and you can hear the slight crack in his voice. The shakiness and fear of his statement possibly being true when he woke up without you by his side. “For real, baby. I thought you actually packed your shit and left.”

Your annoyance fades into a fond sort of concern. Rafe has attachment issues, and you’re the one person he actually loves too much to let go of. He’s made it clear that anyone else can fuck off when he gets tired, but you? The six feet two future CEO of Cameron Development never wants you to be out of his sight. He needs to have you with him every time.

It’s clear to even a blind person that Rafe can’t function properly without you. Ward’s labelled you a liability countless times before, but Rafe doesn’t care — he hasn’t cared in a long time, and neither have you.

Your head turns to press a kiss against his temple. “Sorry, baby,” you murmur, warm breath tickling his skin. He shifts a little and buries his face deeper into the crook of your neck. “I didn’t think you’d wake up yet. You know I’ll never leave you like that.”

Rafe makes an unintelligible noise that you’re about to question, but then he pulls away from your neck and stares down at you with that pout. You fall silent immediately, watching closely as Rafe’s expression changes from sulky to hopeful and relaxed.

“Yeah,” he whispers, like raising his voice even just a little would chase you away. “You won’t. You love me too much.”

You flash a smile at him, cupping his face tenderly, when he suddenly leans down to kiss you. “Rafe—!”

He plants a giddy kiss on your lips, short and sweet, before pecking your entire face over and over again like he can’t get enough of you. Rafe’s relishing the soft laughs you’re letting out, his heart lurching at the realisation that he’s making you laugh like this.

How could you leave him when you look so happy having his kisses all over your face?

“Come back to bed,” he mumbles, focusing his affection on the corner of your mouth. When he locks eyes with you, you can see the plea in the blue. “We haven’t cuddled enough.”

You nod despite yourself, already reaching for your mug (now half-filled because of a certain someone), but Rafe has other plans.

The fucker picks you up bridal style, ignoring the yelp you make.

“You’re not escaping me this time,” he reasons simply, already walking out of the kitchen despite your protests about your abandoned (and spilt) coffee. You eventually quieten down about it when you realise Rafe won’t be turning around.

Now your coffee’s going to get cold, and you’ll have to make another one.

“You don’t need coffee when you’re gonna spend the whole day with me,” Rafe huffs petulantly, as if he can read your thoughts (and at this point, he probably can, with how well he’s able to decipher your expressions).

“You are exactly why I need coffee,” you grumble under your breath, then let out a high-pitched scream when Rafe almost drops you. “Hey! You know it’s true!”

“But you still love me.”

“Debatable.”

“I’m gonna throw you out the window.”

“You won’t do that. You almost cried ‘cause you woke up alone.”

“I— Fuck. Fine. But we’re still cuddling.”

“Ward is out of the way now. We can be together.”

“Your father is dead, Rafe. I have guardianship of Wheezy. I’m still your step mother.” You hiss, slapping at his chest.

“Maybe we can give Wheezy another sister since Sarah is such a cunt.” You open your mouth to protest at his unbelievable words but his lips come down hard on yours, silencing your cries. Rafe practically swallows you whole as he holds you at bay, your fighting futile as his tongue thrusts inside your mouth.

“Rafe.. please..” You pant, not wanting to take this any further. His harmless flirting and advances were one thing but this was totally different. Rafe was off the rails. This couldn’t happen.

“Keep begging. It makes me so fucking hard.” Rafe yanks his polo over his head before tearing your towel off your naked body. He takes you in with a dark and hungry look before he starts to remove his shorts. You make a run for the door but he pulls you back by the hair and forces you into the huge walk in shower.

“I bet I can make you scream louder than Ward ever did.” His shorts come off and you stifle a groan, hating that way your pussy pulses over his filthy mouth. And the cock between his legs. Rafe flips the shower on then his hand is around your throat.

“Don’t just look at it. Touch it.” Rafe taunts, pressing his cock against your bare stomach.

“Rafe, we can’t do this.” Your hands ball into fists, resisting the urge to do more than just touch him.

“There’s nothing in our way now. I know you want me as badly as I want you. You’ve been eyefucking me since day one.” Rafe trails kisses down your throat and over your shoulder before his hand slides between your bodies to guide his cock lower. You gasp when he nestles it between your squeezed thighs, your clit pulsing with need as he starts to rock his hips.

“God, I cum could just like this.” Rafe pins you to the wall with his body, bracing himself on either side of your head as he thrusts his hips. Tears fill your eyes with the intensity of needing release.

“You gonna cum for me? Wanna be my good little slut and cum all over my cock without it even being inside you?” Rafe growls in your ear as your legs starts to shake.

Just as your orgasm starts to peak, Rafe bends his knees and thrusts.. burying himself deep inside you with one go. Your scream pierces through air. His lips brush against your throat and up the side of your neck as you try to adjust to the intense stretch. He was so thick..