#bsf!reader

FRIENDZONED !

a normal shopping day with your bsf! what could go wrong? except, you dont know why hes so demanding...

cw: 18+, highly suggested themes, gaslighting & emotional manipulation, intense possessive/obsessive behavior, toxic friendship dynamics, objectification, perverted thoughts

pairings: dark!bsf!rafe x gentle!oblivious!reader

more of friendzoned ! series here

“ouhh, this is cute.” you grab a white, linen midi dress hanging on the clothing rack. staring up and down of the design on the dress. its flowy and stops at your shin. you held the dress on your body, watching how good it would look. “i could wear this to topper’s boat party.”

“put that shit down.” rafe lazily comments from behind you. eyes not leaving his phone. you turn around, pouting. “youre not even looking at it!”

your face scrunched up in a frown. “c’mon, ray, this is pretty. white is my color, it makes me look classy.”

rafe turns his phone off, sliding it into his pocket. he closed the distance between you until hes completely towering you.

•touchy. constantly. hand on your lower back guiding you through crowds, fingers brushing yours, fixing your hair for no reason. it’s all small, but it adds up.

•at parties he refuses to let you out his sight. he never lets you get too drunk and if you somehow manage to he’s grabbing you and pulling you into his truck and taking you home while giving you the silent treatment. (hmm i wonder why..)

•he acts like an asshole when people are suspicious that you guys aren’t just friends. he’ll immediately shut it down. (there’s no logic behind it. he’s always been obsessed with you.)

•he makes you give him at home fashion shows when you buy new lingerie because you’re oblivious at the fact that it turns him on.

•bsf! rafe who always goes through your phone. he just wants to know what you do when he’s not there or what you post on your secret accounts you think he doesn’t know about.

•bsf! rafe who has to jerk off when you send him a daily selfie of whatever your up to that day.

•he makes you come golfing with him even though you don’t do anything. he just likes your presence there with him.

you’ll need some crosses for this one- bsf! rafe and bsf! reader who fool around:

•it starts by you ovulating and flirting with him just a little too much to be playful.

•he starts to take this as a sign to start being a little more bold with you till eventually he has you riding his thigh so desperate for attention. it then starts becoming a regular thing.

•he has a tracker on his phone that tracks when your ovulating because he gets so excited thinking about the next time you’ll need him.

•bsf! rafe who always manipulates you into letting him touch and kiss you. “best friends make each other feel better, right?”

your best friend rafe cameron.

bsf!rafe who’s known you since you started at kook academy, back when everything was easier, when he didn’t know how to grieve his mom, didn’t know how to process his dad, didn’t know how to handle any of it, but somehow he always knew you’d be in his corner. 

bsf!rafe who would show up at your place at 2am more times than either of you can count, barely holding it together, and you never once turned him away. he let himself fall apart in front of you in ways he never would with anyone else. his head in your lap, your fingers running through his hair while he tried to pretend he was fine.

bsf!rafe who chased everything trying to feel something, trying to fill that empty void, from alcohol to drugs, to throwing his money on stupid shit, like an expensive bike, or a new yacht. but all he really needed to ever feel okay was someone who would just choose him, like you always did.

bsf!rafe who only lets you drive his porsche 911. he won’t even hand the keys to kelce or topper but tosses them to you without hesitation. “I trust you” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

bsf!rafe who buys you anything without making a big deal out of it. bags, jewelry, little things you mentioned once in conversation, and shrugs it off with, “money doesn’t mean shit when it comes to you.”

bsf!rafe who knows everything about you without trying. your coffee order, your favorite songs, the exact perfume you wear, and swears he notices immediately when something’s off.

♯ thrad era!michael jackson x childhoodbsf!reader ᝰ.ᐟ

syn. A 27 year old michael escapes his massive fame to visit his lifelong best friend for the summer at her mother’s house in gary, indiana. Once reunited . . . things get a little hectic. Resulting in a lifelong commitment neither of them expected.

ⓘ contains .. lots of plot . smut . mdni . soft!dom michael . lowkey slow burn . heavy angst . you guys really love each other . p in v . michaels infatuated with you . unprotected sex . mentions of pregnancy . ghosting && sad ending, for now .

🪽- thrad!michael is only mentioned in this part since this is the prologue! bigheadedbaby m.list main m.list

GARY, INDIANA

Michael Jackson.

You hadn’t stopped hearing that from the day you first heard it on television in ‘69.

He was a big star now. Girls fainting over him, paparazzi following him everywhere he went, headlines filled with anything related to Michael Jackson. All this news surrounding a whimsy little boy you grew up with in Gary.

The one built like a microphone.

The same little boy who used to scrape his knees on the wood chips at the park or trying to climb up the oak trees in the neighborhood. The same little boy who swore you had a big head like his wasn’t big too.

You knew Michael for Michael. Knew him since his brothers and sisters started calling him lil daddy, knew him since kindergarten and he’d tell you that his mother made his shirts during free time, knew him since he’d start humming along to songs while you two colored, knew him since third grade when you both would come to school suddenly sad about things that happened at home, just comforting each other in silence during recess when you could.

Knew he was your best friend when you two begged Joe to let you stay over for dinner. And knew you were his best friend that same night Joe decided to start yelling at all of them and you held his little hand under the table.

But that comfortable silence that finally found its way into both of your lives was cut short during the 5th grade year of 1969. Michael and his brothers got signed to Motown Records. And that meant he’d be moving away.

You two wouldn’t be considered equal individuals anymore. You’d still be some random girl from Gary whilst Michael would now be thee Michael from the Jackson 5.

Leaving school, leaving you, meant leaving behind the only person who didn’t look at him like a ticket for opportunities. And the day he packed up for California, you both felt a heavy yet silent feeling of sadness wash over you.

But distance couldn’t kill what you two had. Not in a million years.

Thanks to your mother keeping very good contact with Ms. Katherine, your worlds stayed tethered with no problem.

You grew up in the front rows of screaming crowds, watching the boy who used to sing to stop you crying share his gift right on the big stage and quickly become a living legend.

His eyes often met yours in the crowd. A twinkle appearing in his eye like clockwork when he stared at you.

And every single time he caught your eye from rehearsals or managed a rushed, backstage hug; the superstar instantly melted away.

It was always just Michael.

THE PRESENT (1985)

By the summer of 1985, he was the biggest thing on the planet. Quite literally. But for a few weeks, he completely vanished from the headlines to reclaim his sanity, even if it was only for a second.

He knew exactly where to go.

Your ears shot up at the sound of the doorbell to your mom’s place, instantly turning the tv down. “I got it!” You shout as you speed walk toward the front door.

Your socks slide as you stop at the door, looking through the peephole before an excited gasp is leaving your mouth.

You hurriedly open the door, eyes lighting up. “Michael!” You jump into his arms, hugging him tightly.

He just smiles, hugging you back as a heavy sigh of relief left his body, snuggling his face into your hair.

You pull back, sizing him up. “What’re you doing here?” You grin as he laughs, stepping inside.

“Just wanted to see you, that’s all.” He explains as he turns toward you again.

“Oh please, scrub. You mean you needed a place to hide out because the paparazzi’s on your pretty tail again,” You tease, pursing your lips. He lets out a soft laugh, shaking his head.

“You’re stupid man.” He huffs, playfully pressing a finger to your forehead. You smack his hand away with a grin as you walk into the kitchen, pulling some grapes out of the fridge.

You sit the plastic container onto the island, eating some grapes out of your hand.

“So,” you begin, “how was tour?” You ask, leaning against the island with your elbows, plopping grapes into your mouth.

He scoffs, shaking his head as he grabs some. “Tiring. And especially boring without you there to bug me.”

You laugh, plopping another grape into your mouth. “What, Marlon ain’t keeping you entertained enough?” An amused look on your face as you tilt your head.

“Nope. His head ain’t as big as yours so it didn’t really work..” he pretends to think on it and you throw a grape at him. “Shut up!” You scowl, rolling your eyes as you eat yet another grape from your hand. He cackles, swallowing a grape he was chewing on.

“But uhm..” you swallow, looking down for a second. “how you been since..you know.” You murmur, eyes meeting his again.

He lets out a quiet sigh, hating to even talk about it. Mostly because it still hurts lowkey. “I’m fine tink I promise.” His voice awfully soft.

“..you promise? Cause I was really worried..” You persist, watching the ways his eyes move to see if you catch any twitching.

He nods, blinking as he sucks in a breath, looking down at you. “Promise. Nothing to worry about anymore, I’m good.” He smiles.

You huff after a few moments, sitting up and eating the rest of the few grapes you had in your hand before walking around the island, reaching a hand up to move a curl from his eyelash. “You’d tell me if something was wrong, right?” Eyes fluttering up to his big ones.

He just nods, leaning into your touch as your hand grazes his cheek. “Of course tink.” He whispers, gaze falling upon your lips.

Before the quietness of the air could suck you two in deeper, the loud click of a bedroom door down the hall breaks the silence. The sudden sound of footsteps make the both of you step back an inch naturally. Not out of guilt—just adjustment.

“Baby who was at the door?” Your mother questions from around the corner of the kitchen, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

But once she sees who it is, she ain’t sleepy anymore. Her face instantly lights up the second she sees who is standing by the island. “Oh my goodness! Michael!” She exclaims.

Michael’s entire face brightens, that signature, boyish grin taking over as he turns away from you. “Hi momma,” he says softly, opening his arms wide as she rushes over to throw her arms around him, hugging him tightly.

“I’m so happy to see you.” Voice warm as she rocks him side to side while hugging him. He chuckles, hugging her tightly as well. “Me too ma’am.”

She pulls away, eyes trailing over yet another one of his new looks. “How you been since—“

“I’ve been fine momma I promise,” He laughs.

“Tink asked me the same thing.” Warm smile on his face. She frowns before smiling again. “Well you let me know if you ever need anything.” She runs her hands over his shoulders.

“Yes ma’am.” He smiles as your mother lets out a sigh.

“Alright well, I gotta go get ready.” She insists. You blink, brows furrowing. “Where you going?” She scoffs, stopping in her tracks and turning toward you. “Girl out.”

You groan. “Oh my god. Ma, where?”

“Girl I am grown, I can go outside as I please. You need to be going outside, shit. Twenty seven years old and don’t come outside your house unless it’s to spend time with your momma.” She scolds as she walks back into her room, leaving you there flabbergasted.

“Ma!” You scoff, throwing your arms up. “Forreal?” You blink as Michael chuckles.

“She’s right though. You never go outside.” Michael adds with a shrug to which you scoff, pushing him. “You shut up. And I do go outside!”

“Yeah when the groundhogs need you..” he mutters causing you to gasp, hitting his arm. “Michael!” You shout and he just laughs, the high and breathy sound echoing through the kitchen. “What, it’s the truth!” He holds his hands up, leaning back against the counter as he catches his breath.

You just shake your head glaring at him. “Whatever man.”

Half an hour later, your mother’s emerging from her room again, this time dolled up.

Michael notices first, brows raising. “Well look at you momma,” he grins, giving her two thumbs up.

Your face scrunches up as you look her up and down, crossing your arms. “You look okay, I guess...” you mutter, scratching the back of your head but unable to hide the little smirk on your lips.

“Must be nice to actually get dolled up for something worth your time unlike the rest of us.” You sigh dramatically which makes her smack her lips, swatting you off.

“Girl please. You choose not to go out. You know how many men try to get you to look their way but you don’t budge?” She tilts her head to which you just huff, ignoring her.

Michael glances over at you with that, eyes wide and a smile on his face. “Really?” He asks, tilting his head to which you roll your eyes.

“Bye mama. Have fun, don’t get into no trouble.” You wave her off.

Your mother just smirks, popping her hip. “Please. I am the trouble, baby. And thank you Michael. At least somebody in this house appreciates the effort.”

“People would be fools not to notice.” Michael adds, leaning his hip against the island with a sweet grin. “Gary ain’t even ready for you tonight momma. Gotta have extra security for you.”

Your mother lets out a loud laugh, getting flustered as she waves him off. “Oh, stop it Mike! You’re gonna make my head as big as hers with all those compliments.” She points at you, causing Michael to start cackling all over again.

You throw your arms up, brows furrowed. “Really?” You deadpan.

“Alright,” she sighs, adjusting her hair. “I’m leaving. You two go do something, get up out my house, go outside if you can!” She says as she starts to walk toward the door.

But before leaving, she points a finger at you. “And Michael,” she starts, pointing at him now. “Don’t let her bully you.” She points at you again, eyes squinted.

“I- wha-? Momma!” You throw your arms up. “He bullies me!” You call out to which she waves off. “Lock this door behind me.”

You stand there with a confused look on your face, arms still thrown up as Michael starts walking toward the door with a snicker. “Yes ma’am.”

He waves bye as she finally exits, the door clicking shut behind her.

You scowl, shaking your head as you cross your arms. “Can’t believe her..” you mumble. “Don’t bully you?! Don’t bully me!” You shout before huffing heavily, shaking your head.

“Don’t shake your head too much tink, it’ll fall off. Too much weight on it.” His voice completely soft and calm as he literally makes fun of you.

You toss your arms to your sides, lips in a frown. “But I’m the one who bullies you. Right.”

He stifles a laugh, grin on his face as he returns back to your side, leaning his back against island. You too stand there in silence for a few minutes, the soft tension that was there earlier slowly returning.

It was getting a little too heavy, and even more so quiet.

Michael looks around the kitchen before his gaze shifts, glancing over at the window in the front room casting a soft glow over the room.

You can see the slight change in his demeanor as reality hits him. For the nth time in his life. But then just like that, Michael is back as he turns toward you with a soft smile.

“Hey,” he calls softly, his tone shifting from playful to something more grounded. Your brows raise in a way to tell him you’re listening. He reaches out, fingers gently catching your wrist. “Let’s..let’s get outta here for the night.”

You blink, eyes trailing down to his hand around your wrist, then back up to his face. “Out of here?” Your brows furrowed. “And go where? Ain’t nothing here to do.”

“We can go downtown,” he suggests with a shrug. “I got a place in the city.” He explains, his voice dropping into a quiet register. “A suite at the Drake. No cameras, no noise. Just..actual space where we don’t have to whisper or worry about anyone seeing my limo.” He gives your wrist a persuasive tug, taking your hand in his.

“Please tink. Come with me. Let’s just have a normal night. Just you and me?”

There’s never been a chance where you’re telling Michael Jackson no. You never could, the vulnerability in his eyes killed you, and you know how rare it is for him to even get a single second of peace nowadays. Plus, the fact that he wants to spend his alone time with you makes something warm blossom in your heart.

“Fine scrub,” you murmur with a sigh, a soft smile finally spreading onto your face. “But,” you hold a finger up. “Only if we get to order a ridiculous amount of room service.”

Michaels entire face lights up, that beautiful, genuine smile returning as he squeezes your hand. “Of course. I’ve got a driver waitin’ down the street, go grab whatever you need.”

You nod with a smile as you pull away from him, walking down the hallway and into your childhood bedroom to grab the bag you originally packed to stay at your mother’s and slinging it onto your shoulder.

“You ready?” Michael asks as you walk down the hallway and back toward him. You hum, taking his hand as you two head for the door.

As you two head out the door and you lock your mom’s door, a thought possesses Michael. “We should order some kfc when we get there too.”

You blink as he strings you along. “Uh Mike, I don’t think a luxury hotel serves kfc..” - “Oh, I’ll have bill go get it don’t worry.” He quickly answers with a smile.

You huff out a laugh, shaking your head. “The privileges of a superstar I tell you..” Michael just wraps his arm around your shoulder as you two walk down the street and toward the very discreet (not) limousine.

The forty minute drive leaving Gary and entering Chicago is a blur as you pass the streetlights. Inside the tinted and warm limousine, you two sit inside playing i spy.

Every time you got one, Michael would say it doesn’t count, and then take your point for himself.

“No, that counts!” You argue as you point at the pizzeria with the pepperonis lit up. “No it doesn’t!” He laughs, “I said something fully red.”

“No you did not! You’re cheating Michael!” You reach over, hitting his shoulder to which he giggles, moving his shoulder. “You just a sore loser.” He drags out, sticking his finger in your ear to which you slap him away.

The brown oak door is shut carefully as you two enter the penthouse. It’s beautiful; floor to ceiling windows, marble counters in the kitchen, modern but sleek interior, and one huge white bed with a mattress that is so pillowy.

“Wow..” you had never seen anything like it, well, except for in movies, but this was the real thing.

You sit your things in the closet as bill rolls in a cart of light foods to fill you both with after that semi-long trip. You didn’t mind one bit at the gesture, thanking him as he left out the room.

Leaving you two in a hotel room alone.

Things are normal at first— conversation drifting smoothly, goofing around while eating the treats and food brought for the both of you, reminiscing about times together, and asking each other silly things.

Eventually, time passes as you two finish up your food, empty plates placed back onto the cart, an almost finished glass of orange juice sitting on top of a plate, and treat wrappers sitting on the other.

Not long after, Michael suggests you two watch a movie. You say yes of course, flopping back against the plush pillows at the head of the bed. He does the same, snuggling right next to you as he flips through the channels.

When incredibly sweet and iconic Lady and the Tramp pops up, you two don’t hesitate and immediately agree to leave it playing.

As you two watch, you can’t help but notice the way Michael’s hand constantly brushes against yours. Fingers sliding gently over your own, thumb pressing into your palm, and how he softly lifts up your hand, wrapping his own hand around your wrist to check your pulse with his thumb.

It makes your heart race with how gentle he is with you. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think Michael was trying to make a move on you. Not like you would mind anyway.

“Hey,” his voice suddenly disrupting your thoughts as you look over at him. He smiles, glancing back at the tv for a moment. “The movies almost over so I’m gonna jump in the shower and wash the road off,” his voice quiet yet sleepy at the same time. “I’ll be quick so you can get in behind me, tink.”

You smile with a nod as he stands up. “Okay, thanks scrub. And don’t worry, take your time. I’m gonna finish watching this.”

He gives you a gentle, warm smile as he hums before heading into the huge bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

Now you’re left alone with your thoughts with Lady and the Tramp mindlessly playing in the background. This was quickly becoming an intimate space, no matter how much the two of you tried to ignore it.

You didn’t necessarily see a problem with it, but you knew how Michael was, he’d either say what he wanted or wouldn’t say a thing. Not like you were expecting anything! He’s your best friend, been your best friend since preschool so why would you care?!

You sigh, shaking your head to let your thoughts drift away. You suck at trying to convince anyone especially yourself.

After about twenty minutes, you hear the shower turn off. The movie that was idly playing shut off a few minutes ago, leaving you to sit with your thoughts once more before you decide to gather your things for the shower.

The door slides open and Michael appears, a towel around his neck, plaid pajama pants on, white socks on his feet, and a plain black tee. He looked insanely cute for such a simple outfit.

“Bathrooms all yours tink,” he gestures as he steps out of the doorway and over to the bed, plopping down while running the towel through his hair.

“Thanks bighead,” you joke softly as you walked past to head into the bathroom, shutting the door right behind you.

The second the bathroom door shuts, Michael lets out a sigh he didn’t even know he was holding in as he glances over at the door.

What does he do while you’re in there? Pretend to watch tv? Pretend to sleep? No, all of those just seemed awkward.

So he opted for the best option, turn the tv off, turn the lamp off, get comfy on his side of the bed, and stare at the ceiling til he fell asleep. Unfortunately for him, he just could not close his eyes. Not when he knew you were in the shower and the steam was probably circling your body.

Gosh he felt like such a pervert.

The next twenty minutes feel like hell as Michael hears you finally finishing up in the bathroom once the shower cuts off.

His nerves are back ten fold. Not only were you about to come out the bathroom smelling like heaven, you were also about to sleep next to him in the same bed. HIM. He finds it funny in a way. You guys have always shared a bed during sleepovers—you’re best friends for gods sake, but now it felt like it’d be intensely different since the two of you were grown adults.

The soft click of the bathroom door opening disrupts his thoughts, breaking the silence as a warm wave of “clean” scented steam rolls into the bedroom.

“Michael?” You call out quietly, checking to see if he’s still awake.

Michael pretends to be asleep, quickly closing his eyes as he hears your footsteps move against the carpet. The mattress dips as you pull back the heavy and warm duvet, slipping into the space beside him.

You squirm as you stare at the ceiling staying very still on your side of the bed, arms tucked tight by your sides.

Your scent fills the bed. It’s sweet, and cozy, and sexy all at once. It was killing Michael. He could eat you right now—

“Hey, you’re not asleep,” you suddenly poke at his arm with an amused look. Michael jumps ever so slightly, glancing over at you briefly. “Oh yeah, heh..you got me.” He smiles, keeping his attention on the ceiling.

You blink, confused, but quickly turn your attention to the ceiling as well so you don’t do anything stupid.

You two stare at the ceiling in silence for a good ten minutes before Michael breaks the silence.

“Hey..” he whispers into the darkness, voice barely carrying through the pillows. You hum in acknowledgment, and you can feel and hear the sheets rustle as he gets closer. “I was just thinkin’ y’know since I been on tour so long…you got anybody special in your life right now? Like..you datin’ anybody?” He questions.

You snicker, shaking your head. “Yeah, you.” But then you quickly noticed how that sounded and clear your throat as you see Michael’s face start to heat up. “N-not like the-the dating part, more so the special person.” You quickly correct, eyes hurriedly focusing back on the ceiling.

“No, yeah I-I get it.” Michael turns his head toward the ceiling too. “Got it the first time.” He smiles awkwardly.

You nod against the pillows, a question infiltrating your mind, causing you to scoot closer this time. “Uhm, what about you? You got another one of those tour girls?” You ask with amusement, trying to lighten the mood.

“No.” Michael answers simply—and way too quickly.

“Oh…” you swallow, quickly nodding.

Silence settles over the room once again, the only sound audible being the shaky breaths of the two of you.

After a few moments, Michael shifts on his side, sheets and the duvet rustling with him. His hand grazes over yours under the covers, slowly but gently intertwining his fingers with yours.

“I don’t care about any of those girls tink, never have.” he whispers, thumb running over your knuckles. “Although there are some pretty fish,” he huffs with a chuckle, causing you to laugh too.

“They aren’t you.” He squeezes your hand, “there’s only one person I think about when I’m on stage… when I’m brainstorming.. and it’s you.” Your breath hitches in your throat at the admission. Slowly, as if gravity is pulling you, you turn your head against the pillow to face him. And to your surprise, Michael is already looking at you.

In the dim, quiet night of the Chicago skyline, moonlight hits his face. His eyes wide and shimmering with a look of affection. A look only for you.

The tension between you two is strong, pure, and raw longing.

The space between both of your faces feels agonizingly small, feeling his soft breathing and smelling whatever beautiful scent he had lingering on his body. He does the same, catching a whiff of that warm and sexy body butter you had on.

You get entirely lost in his gaze. You can see the way his eyes fall over your face, stopping dead at your lips, as he asks a question without words. His eyes slowly trail back up, lip between his teeth as his eyes meet yours again. And with some sudden push, you bring your lips toward his, leaving a long and lingering kiss against his lips.

Your breathing is shaky as you pull away, eyes roaming his to see how he felt. But Michael wastes no time returning the kiss, assuring you that he wanted this just as much. You hum into his mouth, trembling as you cup his face.

With zero hesitation, Michael’s hand leaves yours, moving to wrap around your waist instead as the kiss deepens.

You moan into his mouth, bobbing your head with his as your tongues fight for dominance just before you pull back, panting. “Michael..” you call out softly, voice trembling. “Wha-what’re we doing?”

Michael reluctantly pulls away as well, letting out a shaky and ragged exhale as his eyes flutter open in the dark, completely dazed. His usual demeanor and composure broken.

“I don’t know tink,” he whispers back, his voice breathy and raspy as he leans in to press a soft, lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth, unable to contain himself now. “Ion know, but.. I-I don’t want it to stop.”

“We’re best friends though,” you remind him, swallowing temptation as you obviously couldn’t care less about that in the slightest, your own hands tightening on his face. “This could make things awkward.”

Michael hums, nodding as he runs his thumb over your lips. “I know.. but that’s a risk I’m willing to take. For you.” He admits quietly, not stuttering once.

“…if we do this,” you swallow, eyes blinking down for a second. “If we do this, everything changes Mike..”

Michael stays quiet for a moment, taking in your words. He’s had eyes for you since those days in elementary where he’d sing to cheer you up. But he was child then, he had no idea what any of that meant til he got older, and once he found out, the feeling would never let go.

“Maybe..” he begins. “Maybe it’s time it did,” he murmurs, eyes searching yours for any kind of regret. “I’ve been waiting way too long, tink..”

The next thing he knows, you’re smashing your lips against his at the confession, whimpering into his mouth. The hand around your waist tightens as he suddenly flips over, hovering over you with his hands sprawled out by your head.

Michaels breath lingers over your lips, eyes low as he finally lowers his head, capturing your lips in a passionate and entirely messy kiss.

Your hands instantly find their way around his neck, pulling him closer as he makes himself comfortable between your legs, slowly grinding against your clothed cunt.

You moan into his mouth, tilting your head to deepen the kiss while your hands trail up into his hair, fingers carefully roaming his head.

Your lips part as you take him further into your mouth, tongues swirling in union as Michael’s hand wanders down your body, gripping at your breast and waist.

Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer; wanting to feel every single bit of him. His fingers move from your waist to your hips til he reaches your thigh, kneading sensually before hiking it up higher.

He pulls back momentarily, burying his head deep in your neck, leaving kisses on your jaw whilst nibbling on your neck. Gasps leave your mouth as his hands find their way underneath your shirt, slowly lifting your shirt over your chest, exposing your plump breast to him.

His breath hitches as he stares at your soft and bare skin—a sight he’s only ever been able to imagine. His hands tremble slightly against your ribs before they travel upward, his huge palm cupping your breast with gentleness.

His gaze darkens as he catches the way your lip gets caught between your teeth, anticipating his next move.

He opens his mouth, lolling out his warm tongue and licking against your nipple before leaving feverish amounts of kisses on your chest.

You gasp, back arching off the bed with need for more of his touch.

Your fingers tangle into his dark curls, tugging just enough to pull his face up from your chest, forcing him to look you in the eye. “Michael, please,” you whimper, voice in a pouting and wrecked tone as you stare into his big, blown out eyes. “Stop teasin’..”

A low, shaky groan leaves his chest, blinking away for a moment. “M’not teasing mama,” he promises, thumb pressing into your hip as his weight fully settles between your thighs.

“I’m trying not to lose my mind before I’m even inside you. .” He mutters before pressing his soft lips against yours once more, shifting his hips and dragging his clothed thick length hard and slow against your folds.

The friction makes your toes curl and a high pitched whimper tear from your throat.

He wastes no time hooking a finger into your shorts, breaking the kiss to pull them off causing you to shudder. Your panties follow suit after he runs his fingers over the lace of the thong.

He practically moans at the sight of your glistening folds and pulsing hole, all wet and ready for him.

He licks his lips hungrily, but ultimately decides to pull his shirt and pajama pants off, leaving him absolutely bare.

Your eyes lower at the sight, very satisfied. You don’t hesitate, fully removing your shirt from your body and tossing it elsewhere. You’re quick to hook a hand around the back of his neck, pulling him down to messily clash your lips together. “Hmm..” you hum into his mouth, wrapping both arms around his neck now.

He doesn’t break the kiss once when he finally slides into your soaking pussy. He’s slow and controlled, letting you adjust to his size. You let out a cry at the stretch, face contorting in pain and pleasure. And out of instinct, you push at his abdomen.

Michael groans at the sudden tight squeeze of your walls around his cock, knees almost buckling as he attempts to sooth you of your nerves. He shushes you, pulling away just an inch to intertwine his fingers with yours, pinning them against the sheets.

A choked moan leaves his throat as he bottoms out, beginning to thrust into your sopping cunt at a slow pace, working his hips steadily.

Your eyes roll, head thrown back against the pillows as your legs tighten around your waist. “Oh god,” you moan breathlessly.

“I gotchu mama,” he moans, leaning down to lay kisses to your face as his strokes become hungrier. “Love you so much. .” He grunts, brows furrowed as he bites his bottom lip. His pace gradually increases, fucking you like no tomorrow. "Unngh!" you whimper.

God the two of you were crazy. He was buried deep inside you, pace intensifying with every thrust—and there was no condom to be found.

Michael couldn’t keep his hands off you, giving it to you at every angle he could throughout the night. You cried, sobbed, mewled, whined, whimpered, all of it from the feel of his dick dragging in and out of your walls with no remorse; just pure love.

When it’s all said and done and he’s filled you to the brim, the room suddenly feels too quiet.

The desperate and needy heat of your bodies slightly cool once Michael collapses next to you, chest heaving as he glances over at you.

He doesn’t wait for your eyes to flutter open and catch his; he pulls you toward him, instantly wrapping an arm around your waist as he tucks you into his side, and lies your head against his chest. You’re both completely spent, sweat glistening over your warm bodies.

He buries his face into your hair, letting out a long sigh of contentment. He places a kiss to the top of your head, his hand finds yours and he holds it tight. For a moment, you two sit there in silence, soaking in each other’s presence.

As his chest slowly rises and falls beneath your cheek, he begins to scatter lazy, ticklish kisses down your temple and against your collarbone. You squirm, giggling with a shriek as you shrug him off. “Michael, stop — it tickles!” You snicker, big smile on your face as your arms only tighten around him.

“Oh yeah? What about this?” he chuckles, tickling your side with his free hand causing you to yelp, kicking him gently under the covers.

“But hey,” Michael calls out to which you hum, being intrigued. “How was it? How..how’d I do?” He piques, brows furrowed. You sigh all big and dramatic on purpose, just to make him think you’re disappointed or don’t want to talk about it, but then he sees the smile creep onto your face.

“You did great Michael.” You smile, bring your intertwined hands up your lips, kissing the back of them. “It was everything I had hoped for.”

He melts at that, pulling you even closer to hug you. “So glad you enjoyed it tink, I really am.” Voice warm and full of happiness.

You huff out a laugh, loving how flustered he got no matter the circumstance.

“I never wanna fail you. That’s been my goal since we were little.” He murmurs softly. “My goal was always to keep this little girl entertained or she’d find elsewhere to bring her friendship to. But I knew it had to be you,” he brings your hand to his lips kissing it slowly. “always you.” He whispers as a happy frown appears on your face, cuddling him.

“Oh Michael, I could never be bored with you, no matter if you put in effort or not. You were always gonna be my best friend.” You smile, getting comfortable against his chest. “Even with that big head you got.” You snicker.

His face brightens at that, huffing out a laugh as he playfully hits you. “Shut up..” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead with adoration.

He rolls onto his side slightly, sitting up against his wrist as he looks down at you. His eyes are soft, completely relaxed, and adoring. A look you haven’t fully seen in a what feels like forever. “I was thinking…” he bites the inside of his mouth, fighting a smile. “We should go to that drive in theater next weekend. Bring a blanket, some food, and turn it into a real date.” He persuades.

“Oh and they’re playing Grease.” He adds.

You gasp, face lighting up. “What?! Mike I love that movie!” You exclaim. “I know, me too!” He giggles. “that’s why I suggested it!” He exclaims with a big smile.

“Yeah, of course we can go!” Giggles overwhelming you with joy as your arms squeeze around him.

But that joys cut short once Michael sighs, eyes droopy as he looks down at you. “I uh..forgot I have a studio session that weekend.” His fingers idly tapping against your skin. “Oh..!” You blink, nodding. Right, you forgot he was a superstar. “Okay,-“ you clear your throat, trying to brighten the mood. “What about the following Monday? We can just go to the regular cinema?” You suggest, to which Michael sighs, shaking his head again.

“Got a photoshoot Monday..” he murmurs, whole demeanor becoming upset.

“Oh. Right, forgot about that..” you swallow, smile faltering as you stare up at him, fingers beginning to trace along his chest.

Everytime either of you attempted to mention new spots to hang out, he was always busy that certain day. No room for a girl in his life, not a girl like you that actually mattered to him.

“Look mama, we’ll figure it out.” He reassures with a certain challenge in his eyes.

“I know my schedule seems real packed, but I promise I’ll find time for us. When I used to do that for you it never seemed like you minded sitting backstage.” Expressions soft.

Your smile fully drops before you speak. “But I did,” You defend, head slowly lifting from his chest.

“I should’ve been able to watch you from the front every time not just when you could.” Hand wrapping the sheets around your chest.

“You had a section for your family, even Joe.” You deadpan.

“Come on, tink..” he mutters.

“No! In what world does that make any sense?” You tilt your head. “Am I not considered family enough to you to be sat with them or something? Ive been here since the beginning of time.” Brows furrowed as you stare at him.

Michael just scoffs, sitting up from the bed as well with a frown on his face. “Don’t go putting words in my mouth tink.”

“Im not, I’m just tellin’ it how it is.” You cross your arms. “I get sick of being back there every show, then when you get off stage I only get five minutes with you.” You shrug, throwing your hands into your lap.

This isn’t about being hidden backstage.

Michael stares at you now. The heavy silence that stretches between you two seems sudden in the moonlit room. He’s completely caught off guard, a mixture of hurt and sheer exhaustion washing over his face.

He wants to argue.

To tell you that backstage is the safest place for you, that backstage is his getaway after a long performance to see you before having to step out and see paparazzi, to tell you that backstage is the safest place for you, and that he’s trying to protect you from the cameras because you despise them—but the defeat in your eyes silences him.

With a heavy, apologetic sigh, he rubs a hand over his face. "Tink, I..." He trails off, voice cracking ever so slightly. "I'm sorry. I didn't know you felt that way. Thought I was keeping you safe...” he murmurs, gazing down into his lap.

His eyes lift back onto your face, a very small, tentative smile appearing. “Well... we can talk about it tomorrow, I promise. I'm just tired. Is that alright?”

You feel bad in a sense. You know he didn’t do it on purpose to upset you, he was being considerate to a person he practically knew everything about.

But now he feels terrible.

You lean forward, cupping his face to kiss his lips with a small smile. “Of course that’s okay, Michael. M’sorry, I should’ve said something back then..” your eyes glazed over.

“Don’t put it all on you, ma. I should’ve noticed your body language every time. Thank you for finally telling me. And I’m sorry for immediately thinking to hide you once we reached a certain age without asking.” His hands clasp gently around your wrists.

He kisses a hand before pulling away with a soft smile. “Let’s get some sleep.” He lies back down, arms open as he waits for you.

You giggle, looking down at him before lying back down, snuggling into his chest. Michael pulls you right back into his side, hold almost tighter—desperate in a way, like he’s afraid you’ll go.

He places a kiss to your hair, heart content. “I love you mama,” he mutters, caressing your skin.

You snuggle impossibly closer, heart full of contentment as well. “I love you too bighead,” you hum, eyes fluttering shut.

He pinches you in your side causing you to squirm with a chuckle. “That’s your nickname, bighead, not mine.” A grin on his face.

“Well both of got big heads, so.” You shrug to which he sleepily cackles. “Whatever. Goodnight tink.”

“Goodnight Michael.”

3:00 AM

The suite is freezing, but in a good way when you suddenly wake up. You’re engulfed by his warmth and Michael is out like a light.

His face is relaxed, sleeping like a baby with you around.

Seeing him sleep so peacefully makes your heart ache, knowing he probably hasn’t slept like this in a while.

It hurts your heart knowing you had to leave. Because if you didn’t leave now, your life could possibly change forever tomorrow once paparazzi finds out Michael is staying here.

That is if they aren’t already outside the building camping.

Your lip trembles as you bite it, hand softly grazing over his cheek, frown on your face.

He was ready to change things for you, change schedules, cancel things, stress himself out, just so you’d have an actual permanent place in his life. But you couldn’t let him do that, you wouldn’t. You cared about him too much.

He’s a superstar, he was always destined to be one. And you’re someone who wants to stay out of the limelight, keep your sanity, stay connected with your family, and continue to be the one normal person Michael has in his life.

You saw what the light was doing to him, so why would you wanna follow suit? You couldn’t live in his fantasy, even if you wanted to. Even if you really wanted to.

So reluctantly, you pull away slowly, the bed dips as you slide off, carefully slipping out of his hold.

You gather your clothes from the floor before heading over to the closet and grabbing your things, pulling a hoodie and sweats from your bag to throw on before slinging your bag on your shoulder.

You look over at the bed, stealing one last lingering glance of him tangled in sheets.

It’s better to leave now, while the memory is still perfect. If you leave now, you won’t regret it. Is all you kept repeating in your head.

You hesitantly pull your gaze away from him before you end up making a rash decision. You make your way toward the door as tears brim your eyes, lip quivering while you nibble on it and quietly slip out the room.

You repeated told yourself it was for the best, walking down the hallway toward the elevator as tears start to slowly fall, the sting pricking the corners of your eyes.

You quickly wipe your face as the elevator comes up, stepping inside with a quiet sob as you dig your nails into your palms with no idea of what was to come.

With no idea that something little was already blooming in your stomach, ready to completely rock the both of your worlds.

I really hope you guys liked this, it took me 9 days to finish🌝 Lmk how it was and reblog if you can! 🪽

kissmyglxck — don’t copy my work, ask to translate, & if you recreate anything pls tag me <3

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: MDNI! 18+, language, smut, p in v, fingering, cnc? (does it without full coherent consent?) rafe kinda takes advantage of reader, slight exhibition risk, mention of head (m receiving) mean!rafe towards the end, lots of dirty talk, slight daddy kink, slapping, slight mention of neglect, divorce, bourbon + weed

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: innocent!reader visits the cameron’s, as she does weekly, with her parents. but this time as she confides in the eldest cameron child and her best friend, rafe over her parents failing marriage, he attempts to comfort you…

𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆: quick little mssg before you read this is my first ever fic i’ve wrote so im so so sorry if it’s absolutely awful! also please request other stuff for me to write! enjoy angels! 💐🪽🧸

you and rafe were inseparable.

still are.

since the early age of four in he’s been following you around like a lost puppy. constantly trying to get your attention, the poor boy. you often saw his constant need and struggle for someone to just care for him as an affect of his asshole of a father mainly bringing him up.

your parents just somehow managed to strengthen your bond with him by becoming closer to one another themselves. during your childhood and with rafe, your parents obviously drifted closer by spending practically every weekend together. of course they would, naturally. both your mother and his step mother, rose, are wealthy, snobby women of the upper side in the outer banks. and your fathers? please. they could be brothers.

ward cameron, business fiend and dickhead supreme, clearly is best suited to become bourbon drinking buddies with your father. every tuesday, thursday and saturday without a doubt your father is “invited” over to the cameron household. therefore meaning you and your mother have to come too.

now after years of these years and many similar nights, you don’t mind. i mean, you are visiting your little rafe…

knock knock knock

“darling i’m sure ward will love your bourbon you brought don’t worry dear” standing on the cameron manor porch, your mother attempts to reassure and calm your father by pressing a haste kiss to his stubbly cheek. smoothing down his suit, she shuffles backwards as he scoffs and glares at her.

“why wouldn’t he maria?! it’s bourbon from fucking germany, the best bourbon making country in the goddamn world.” father sighs, agitated once again. muttering something about her being a stupid woman. you stand there, behind them both. watching mother, her long, recently blown out hair floating in the wind, revealing the open back of her pastel blue sundress. and watching father too. his broad shoulders filling most of the imposing cameron manor front door’s frame. his grey suit reflecting him beautifully. bland and fucking boring. your hands start twisting with your silver bracelets and small golden rings as you try to become invisible. as you try to keep out of your parents fraying marriage and their ongoing petty arguments once again.

the door swings open.

rose cameron stands there, rafes step mother. her short blonde hair is recently bleached and shoved behind her ears. flaunting her iridescent mauve jumpsuit and boisterous, awfully chunky gold necklace. she paints a firm smile onto her matching mauve lips and pushes her hair even further behind her ears. the glow of the metal of the bangles on her wrist catch the setting evening sun and flash into your eyes, blinding you for a second.

“maria! damien! welcome!” she reaches forward and pecks your mother’s cheeks swiftly, peering over her shoulder at you in slight disgust. “i see you all made it fine! me and ward were awfully worried about the god awful weather in paris stopping you from flying home from france… he would be horrified if he missed his bourbon drinking date” rose smiles, her cheeks plastered with foundation, rising like cakes being baked. “oh silly me- come in come in! we have so much to talk about maria.. i mean we have to plan midsummers and the food and outfits- oh and damien, you know where ward is” she lets out a sharp chuckle and beams brightly. rose doesn’t even bother you a second glance as she ushers your parents inside, leaving you standing on the porch. the soft breeze playing with your hair.

what a bitch.. you sigh, your shoulders drooping. rafe must be upstairs like always.

you slide into the manor. quiet, invisible one again. pressing the grand double doors shut and starting to trail up the winding staircase.

after a moment climbing up the spiralling stairs and scurrying across the landing, you stop outside rafe’s door.

knock knock knock

“rafey? it’s me?” you murmur to the door, praying he’s inside.

a moment.

the door pulls open.

inside? stands rafe, low slung grey sweatpants, gold chain around his neck, red bull can in hand.

his room? you peek inside, well you try to. it’s mostly dark. all his blinds are shut, and the only light, apart from the glow of his flatscreen tv opposite his bed is crawling underneath his curtains. the hum of some faint song by someone like chase atlantic or the weeknd dances around the room and the faint smell of weed and aftershave wraps around you, embracing you into a warm, familiar hug.

“doll- i- hey” he smirks, before snatching your wrist and pulling you into his den.

he plops onto the crimson velvet couch at the end of his king size bed before drawing a blunt out of his pocket and dropping his empty red bull can onto the floor with a clatter.

holding the not lit blunt in his teeth, he grabs one of the stray hoodies laying on his floor before pulling it over his head. he flickers his lighter, pulled from his pocket and lights the blunt. takes an inhale and blows out a small cloud of smoke. “cmon bun” grinning ear to ear, he pats his thigh “sit, you know i don’t bite”

you giggle, a sweet melodic tune that dances throughout rafe’s brain.

fuckk…. he thinks..

he drags a rough hand over his face, making some attempt to clean his impure brain of the image of you on your knees in between his thighs with his thick cock wrapped around your pretty pink lips.

you toe off your polished black mary jane’s, leaving them by his bedroom door before pushing it shut quietly. you scuttle over, slipping and sliding all over his recently waxed hardwood floor with your pale pink frilly socks covering your small feet.

he smirks again.. this sweet, sweet girl.

“hi rafey” you murmur whilst you plop onto his lap with a faint thud.

“miss’d you bunny” he immediately lets his hands wander over your waist and he pulls you up so you’re laying back onto his chest as he grabs his playstation controller before starting to play his game. some fighting game no doubt.

“me too rafey..” you coo “im sorry i went away for so long.. france was boring, mom just wanted to drink and dad just wanted to scream at her..im here now though” you say before offering him a weak smile.

“oh bun.. they still rocky?” he hums, pressing you into his side more.

“mhm..i- uh- heard them yelling over some papers the other night too when i was trying to sleep.. its all going wrong rafey i’ve wanted to speak to you for ages but-” you mumble, turning your head so you can bury your lightly dolled up face into his bare bicep.

“oh pretty..” he sighs, stroking your hair like a puppy’s soft fur coat “it’ll be for the best if they divorce hm? yeah?”

“yeah.. you’re right.. i mean at least i might be able to at least sleep then? right?” trying to laugh at your own joke, you press your face further into his arm, turning slightly more so you can lay on his chest better.

“mh yeah good girl.. you can move in with me too if you want when i get my own place later this year hm? jus’ us two in a big house while i finish college yeah?”

“yeah.. uh- i’d like that… yeah..” you whimper. a tear. two tears. three. four. a stream. a river.

“shi- no no bunny don’t cry.. shh… sh..”

sobbing, you grasp his neck and cry softly into his shoulder.

blubbering uselessly, you try to form some coherent thought “b-but- m…m-my d-dad-d-daddy! n-no l…li-like me”

“don’t stress bun.. yeah? fuck your dad. that’s what i say.” he cradles your head, his golden rings that adorn each finger glint in the glow of his tv and his fingers rake through your hair, the playstation controller forgotten. “i can be your daddy for all you care bun.. let rafey care for you.. let me help you.. please pretty girl” he whines pathetically.

you nod mindlessly whilst continuing to whimper and sniffle into his chest.

you don’t even notice he’s manage to hike your baby pink floral print sundress dress up to your waist until his thick golden brown fingers dance along your inner thigh, trickling into your panties quietly.

“shh.. rafe’s got you bun.. focus on me hm?” you can almost hear the smugness melting off his tongue and into his speech, bastard.

you look down at your thighs, expecting to just see his hand squeezing and kneading the flesh. oh-! shit. when did he take my underwear off-.

a pinch, a stoke of your little nub. “r-rafe!”

“you like tha’ hm? shh.. shh.. dry those eyes babygirl.. no crying for rafe”

a finger.. or is it three? press inside of you suddenly.

“mh!” you whine like a needy puppy, for a different reason this time. not crying over your stupid parents, but your best friend.

“sh.” he hisses “keep quiet now, wouldn’t want mommy and daddy to find out their precious girl is being finger fucked by her best friend now would we?”

you shake your head, frantic. “n-no…”

“good girl.. open wide for rafe now” he taps your sealed lips with his cum slicked index and middle finger before forcing your soaked through pink lace panties into your waiting mouth. his fingers slide back down to your puffy folds and little hole, that’s currently clenching on air. trailing his middle finger down from your clit, he thrusts it in. the contrast of the cool metal of the ring on his finger and the warmness of your walls making you sharply inhale.

squelch squelch squelch

the wet, grotesque squelching sounds of his sound fingers thrusting into you and spreading your wetness around your folds fill the air.

another finger presses into your hole. roughly curling around the point, that fills your vision with stars and black, he found so well. so quickly.

eyes rolling back, you buck your hips, frantic. humping his hand, you groan. silently begging and pleading for permission to come.

“nuh uh, too soon bun.. i’ve not even got my cock out yet and you want to squirt all over my fingers?” he scoffs “pathetic slut” he spits at you, and a firm slap is delivered meanly to your pulsing folds making you jump.

suddenly, you’re not on his lap. you’re bent over the arm of the crimson couch, the plush velvet digging into your knees as rafe rams his mean cock into your folds from behind.

“uh-mh-mm!” you whine and squirm, pleading for more friction.

“if i knew you were this much of a slut my dick wouldn’t have left this tight cunt in years…” he pants, breathing heavily. “take it- mh.. some best friend you are” he chuckles as he bullies his cock into you, the angry red tip prodding your cervix, inching you closer to your orgasm every thrust. his balls burying into the curve of your plump ass. “oh bun- she’s just swallowing me whole.. greedy hole gripping my cock so well, taking rafey so well hm?”

despite his roughness, rafe continues to stroke your hair somehow comfortingly, tugging every few moments as the odd ring on his finger gets stuck in your locks.

“see bun? it’s okay, you’ve got me, fuck your parents yeah? jus’ need- m..me… rafe” he groans as he gets closer to his climax.

“god i’ve been waiting to do this for years..” he murmurs as he leans down to nibble your shoulder as he continues to ram into you unrelentingly, the wet sounds now more violent and vicious.

Having sleepovers since a young age slowly devolved from matching pjs to you just sleeping into your panties and an old band shirt and him just in his boxers maybe some loose sleeping pants if his roommates are lucky enough. You cling to each other in sleep like you were scared to lose the other in the mess of sheets.

He never calls you by your name, never. Babe, baby, love, sometimes Dove if he is feeling extra sweet that day. But never by your name.

Codependency is the word to describe the two of you. One time he upset you by saying something about the way you looked and you didn’t talk to him for a total of two days and all he did was sulk and cry and all you felt like was wanting to pull your hair out. When you two aren’t together (which is a rare occurrence) all you think about is him and all he thinks about is you. You can’t function without each other, which on one hand is incredibly toxic but on the other neither of you care enough.

If James could crawl under your skin he would. He would fit himself between your organs, right between your ribs and under your heart if he could. He is obsessed with you and he doesn’t care what anyone thinks of it, even when you get that sleazy boyfriend of yours.

It’s only when you text him that you wouldn’t be able to make it to your guys sleepover because your boyfriend is coming over. His face drops when he reads the text message “what’s wrong prongs?” Remus asked rubbing his wet hair with a towel having just gotten out of the bath. James drops his phone and rubs his teary eyes. “Nothing. Nothing at all.” From that day forward he made it his soul mission in life to get you and your boyfriend to break up. He bad mouthed him to you. “Y’er to good for him babe I mean just look at you and look at him.” He made up half-truths and spread them all around town, couldn’t call them lies if most of it was true. What really sealed the deal was when he was out with Sirius and Remus and he saw your boy basically tongue fucking another girls mouth. He smirks and pulls his phone out and calls you, all cheeky when he speaks. “Hey babe I was thinking about you? You know that bar we were talking about the other day? Yeah that one. Why don’t you come one down it’s been forever since we hung out.” Which was a lie you two had hung on each other all afternoon until you just had to go.

It’s not long before you’re there in that outfit he loves. And he waves you over keeping his eye on your soon-to-be ex boyfriend who still has his hands on the girls ass. He gives you a big hug not caring that his hands travel a little lower than they should. He chops it up a bit putting on a great show as he pretends to just notice him and grabs your arm. “Holy…” you look in the direction he stares at and your face falls and tears begin to form. Then the look of sadness and hurt is completely forgotten and replaced with pure unadulterated rage. Stomping your way over you push the girl off of your now ex and begin to cuss him out, pushing his chest and all the stupid asshole can do is look away ashamed.

James wears a triumphant smirk, arms crossed over his chest watching you give the scumbag a piece of your mind. When you are done you keep your head held high and grab James hand a flash him a look that says, “Let’s go.” And who is he to deny his heartbroken girl. He wraps his arm around your shoulders and you both head to your place. You get unready as fast as you can, makeup streaked down your cheeks. He walks to the bathroom changed into a white shirt and sweats that hang on his waist, clothes he left over here for nights like this.

Grabbing some cotton pads and your makeup cleaners he dabs some on the pad and grabs you by the chin wiping the left over makeup off until it’s completely gone. Drying the remnants of it off he helps you wash your face and put sleeping clothes on. You cry and cry until he pulls you into his chest and carries you to bed. Pulling the covers over both of you he kisses the top of your head and caresses your face, thumb ghosting over your bottom lip as your chest shutters up and down and the tears just don’t stop.

|dryhumping, confession, cum in pants, hair pulling, kissing and oral(m! receiving).

It was eight o’clock. Nick had gone to bed, Matt was gaming again and Chris scrolled through his phone. This was a typical night for you guys, you would come over and Chris would just wanna have your presence around.

You close your eyes, deciding to lay across Chris’s bed. This was comforting for you, the smell of his cologne—so infused into his bedsheets and the softness of his dark covers. Your eye lids slowly felt heavy until Chris started to hover over you.

You could tell it was him due to the dangling of his chain, the way he was breathing and his hair starting to tickle your nose.

“Chris. Cmon man i’m trying to sleep.” You groaned as you opened your eyes to see a smiling Chris looking down at you.

Chris only smiled more as he leant down to hug you. The boy was clearly in some kind of mood, he only wanted to show extra affection if he was feeling generous—otherwise, you guys would be fighting like siblings.

“Wanna hug you. What can I not hug my best friend?” Chris’s breath was hot against your skin, his freckles were so pretty up close and his eyes—wait why were you thinking these things?

“Okay we can hug for like.” You check the time on your phone that read “8:45”

“For like two minutes.”

Chris happily nodded, his body was between your legs. You wore a two piece pajama suit, the shorts would get stuck in your ass—chris would tease you about this, and the shirt fit perfectly tight against your body.

“Mmm. I love hugging you so much.” Chris’s voice was basically groaning as he squeezed his arms around your upper body, while his lower body unintentionally moved up and down against yours.

You started to whimper as you felt Chris’s hard on. Being friends for this long—you never once saw Chris in this light nor have you guys talked about stuff like this. It was almost like a forbidden subject. There’s been times in the past however, where Chris has had to bring you a pad in the bathroom if Nick wasn’t home.

“Y/n you’re so comfy. Feel so good.” Chris placed a kissed to the side of your face. You blushed and hugged him closer. This was a new sensation you were feeling, why did it feel so good?

The way Chris would lean his bulge in more to your clit and just hold it there while talking, then go back to sliding it up and down against your folds—was he trying to get off on you?

“Chris okay that’s enough hugging—this is inappropriate.” Your voice comes out in a whimper as Chris bit his lips looking down at you. He didn’t say anything just stared into your eyes.

His eyes would slowly look over every detail that you had on your face. The way your lashes would blink rapidly if he moved a little too close to your clit, how your mouth stays slightly open but then closed as you try to not make any noise and the feeling of your hands pressing into his chest—trying to get him to stop.

“Do you really want me to stop?” Chris took his hand, started to rub your pussy through the shorts— until you broke.

“Chris, please-please—no this isn’t what best friends do.” You hold his hand away, your hips still trying to move towards it for some kind of pleasure.

“Y/n.” Chris put his head near your ear as his hips starting humping against your clothed pussy. The feeling of his dick on your body felt all too normal, too intimate—too right.

“You know I think of us as more than just friends.”

Your breath hitched—your mind reeled trying to process this information. Sure you had been starting to catch feelings for your best friend, but to have Chris dry humping you while confessing his feelings?? That’s something you would’ve never imagined.

“Chris, I feel the same way.” You stroked his hair—Chris stopped moving and looked into your eyes. The silent action of his face leaning in to kiss you was nerve wracking. He hovered his lips slightly above yours, his eyes asking for permission—and with a soft nod from you, he went for it.

You moaned into the kiss. This is something you’ve always wanted, always had dreams about. You didn’t know the exact date of when you caught feelings for him—but you knew that the feeling was mutual. Chris had been always giving signs to you, giving you his hoodie—spraying extra cologne on it because he knows you like his smell. Buying you stuffed animals—he would ask you what you guys should name it, then he called it your kid. Chris was a very giving person, whether it was with his words or body or even his eyes.

His eyes gave a lot to you. They always made sure to make contact with your own eyes, if you were speaking on something. They would scan the room for you—seeing if anyone you knew was gonna be at an event or even just to protect you.

Chris knew that he had been giving his all to you, slowly over time. In this moment as your bodies lay close together, he knew that it had all been for something. Chris started to insert his tongue inside of your mouth—the instant feeling of your jaw, making his hips jerk forward.

“Mmmhp. Chris—don’t stop.” You moaned. The softness of his back felt so riveting to you, your hands were moving up and down his back—going up to reach his neck. You loved the feeling of Chris’s manly build on yours. Not in a weird way, but knowing that Chris was such a man—an actual gentleman and someone who cared about you, made the butterflies in your belly dance.

“Gonna cum feeling your tight lil pussy.” Chris started to move faster. His thrusts against your body, now made the headboard hit the wall loudly. There was no nudity, only pure emotion.

He took short breaths to try and talk to you, but it was getting hard for him to even open his mouth. You grabbed the back of his head and started to kiss him again, his pink lips would pepper kisses all against your jaw and face. Your lips trailed a line down to his neck—you wanted to mark him.

“Chris I want you all to myself.”

You watched his eyes remain closed, he wasn’t even listening to you at this point. His dick was basically out—your pussy feeling every little detail.

“Chris.” You pulled his hair which made his head go back. He groaned and opened his eyes, still thrusting against you—with wide eyes and scrunched eyebrows, he waited for you to talk.

“Your mine okay? All mine.” You kept a hold on his hair. This was your way of saying that he wasn’t going anywhere and you didn’t want him to. Chris allowed this and also wanted it.

You knew he wasn’t the type of person to let anyone do anything to his person. He had given you complete control over him, he was unconditionally yours—in mind and now body.

“M’yours. I’ll always be yours.” Chris started to drool, his body was feeling so much pleasure as you would clench your legs around his waist-then unclench to make sure he felt good. You also felt good, his muscles were flexing at everything.

He let your hand squeeze and grab at them. You wanted to almost devour him. Chris was being so good to you, so good for you. You knew he had this big and tough guy persona but—all that had changed with a couple thrusts and hair pull.

“Fuck—Yea Chris—Mhm.”

You moaned out, your voice was whispering into Chris’s ears. His body felt shivers everytime you would talk—he wanted more.

“Mm—Am I doing good?”

Chris’s voice was almost on the verge of whimpering. He could feel the obvious wet spot from between your legs—his cock continued its journey of going up and down against your folds. He wanted to be inside of you, but he knew this wasn’t the time. He knew you weren’t ready for that.

“So so so good.”

You kissed his neck again, he would whimper everytime. You knew by this point that it was a sensitive area for him. Chris started sloppily kissing you—his drool getting on your neck and chest.

“Yeaaaa that’s it—be a good boy and fuck your best friend.”

Sounds of Chris’s headboard hanging against the wall—paired with the feeling of the cold metal of chain on your face, was enough to make you and him lose control.

“Uh uh uh—oh shit i’m gonna—.”

Chris started to become weak. His body wouldn’t stop thrusting forward if he wanted it too—the wetness on your clothed pussy only made the precum on the tip of his dick throb more.

With one final hump, he spilled his seed into his sweats. Chris was above your face—breathing heavily and drooling. He couldn’t stop it, as the drool dripped slowly onto your face and chest—he bit his lip and started humping you more.

“Mmmm-yea—yea-yea—Fuck your pussy feels so good.”

You let out a strained moaned, he wasn’t letting up on you. He wanted to hump you through your. own orgasm. Seeing the way the spit fell onto your face and body—he wanted it to be cum instead.

Chris quickly took out his dick—you wasted no time by putting it in your mouth and sucking. He threw his head back while one hand rested on the top of your head. You loved tasting his love—you cousin taste the cum still covering his cock as if it was a new ice cream you were trying.

“Mmmm fuck.”

You stopped sucking and pulled away for a second—taking off your shirt. When you leaned down to put him in your mouth again he instantly came.

“Oh fuuuuckkk.” Chris moaned. His hand kept your head on his cock—not moving an inch while you swallowed all of his cum.

After about a minute of slurping down the rest of Chris’s cum, he helped you put back on your shirt—not without kissing your tits first, then you laid back down on the bed.

Chris immediately snuggled up to you, his breathing was back to normal as you stroked his hair. He felt relieved and at peace that you guys were able to finally be open and honest with each other.

“I wanna make you my girlfriend.”

Your hand stopped loved and you looked down at him. His face was flushed red—his eyes were a pure blue and his hair was messily cute.

“Chris I would love to be your girlfriend.”

Chris smiled and kissed your belly. His arms were around your waist as he started to fall asleep.

Lowkey Chris gave sub!chris in this fic.

tag list:

rafe cameron x childhood!bestfriend!reader

part two

"Will you just shut up and listen to me for one damn second?"

"You're not my boyfriend so stop doing that Rafe!"

"They've always been attached at the hip like that since we were little kids."

"Is she at all aware that country club looks at her like she hung the fuckin' moon?"