#maybank reader

Pairing: Maybank!reader x Soft!rafe

Synopsis: After a fight with your dad, you disappear without a word. Three days later, Rafe is the one to find you after days of worrying.

Wordcount: 1,3k

AN: is it noticeable that I’m on summer break and have absolutely nothing to do? Anyways, I’m kind of proud on this piece. Hope ya’ll like it just as much!

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . ⁺

It had been almost three days since Rafe last heard from you.

Three days since you’d climbed out of his truck after one of your late-night drives, flashing him that small smile he secretly looked forward to more than he’d ever admit.

Normally, you’d text him before he was even halfway home himself. However, that message never came.

That night, he had assumed you had fallen asleep.

By morning, he figured your phone had died overnight.

Somewhere throughout the second day of silence, the excuses he’d been making for you started to sound less and less convincing.

When eventually the excuses ran out, he tried convincing himself he didn’t have a reason to be worried in the first place.

You weren’t his girlfriend.

There was no reason for him to check his phone constantly or drive through the Cut every other hour to check if you’d come back.

It didn’t last long.

Three days of silence wasn’t normal for you, even if you weren’t supposed to talk to him at all.

Wether Rafe wanted to admit it or not, you mattered to him. A lot more than he had planned on.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Charleston was the last place he could think of. Honestly, he wasn’t even sure why it came to his mind.

For hours, Rafe had sat behind the wheel of his truck. He had already checked everywhere else. Every place you’d went to when you needed space. Every place he could imagine you hiding.

Nothing.

But then he remembered.

One of those late-night drives. The two of you had been parked somewhere near the beach, the windows down, music playing quietly in the background.

You’d been talking about random things like you always did when it was just the two of you. Things you wanted to do. Places you wanted to see.

And then, almost casually, you’d mentioned Charleston.

"I think I’d like it there," you had said.

Rafe had glanced over at you. "Charleston?"

You nodded, looking out at the water. "Yeah. I don’t know. It just seems nice."

He’d teased you about it, asking if you were secretly planning on giving up Pogue life and becoming some fancy city girl.

You’d laughed and rolled your eyes.

But then you’d gotten quieter.

"I just like the idea of going somewhere where nobody knows me."

At the time, he hadn’t thought much about it.

Now, sitting alone in his truck three days later, those words were all he could hear.

Somewhere where nobody knew you. Somewhere you could disappear.

Charleston.

It was a long shot. Probably the worst idea he’d had. But it was the only one left.

And Rafe had already learned that when it came to you, he wasn’t very good at ignoring the things that scared him.

So he started the engine again, and crossed the bridge towards the city where he hoped to find you.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

He drove with no real plan after crossing the bridge, letting instinct take over. He checked the places that looked like somewhere you would go. The quiet streets. The little corners where people could sit alone without anyone bothering them.

And then he saw you.

Sitting on a bench overlooking the ocean, your knees pulled close to your chest, staring out at the water like you were waiting for it to give you an answer.

For three days, Rafe had imagined a hundred different scenarios.

You being hurt. You being angry.

You not wanting anything to do with him anymore.

But seeing you there, looking so small and exhausted, somehow felt worse. Because you looked like you had been carrying something heavy all by yourself.

He parked the truck and sat there for amoment, hands gripping the steering wheel.

A part of him wanted to be angry. He wanted to ask why you hadn’t answered. Why you’d let him sit there wondering if something had happened to you. Why you hadn’t trusted him enough to tell him you needed to leave.

But the second he saw your face, every one of those thoughts disappeared.

You looked up when his footsteps approached. For a second, neither of you said anything.

Your eyes widened slightly, almost like you couldn’t believe he was actually there.

"Rafe?"

His eyes softened at the sound of his name on your lips. "You’re really gonna act surprised?" he asked quietly.

"I’ve been looking for you for three days."

The guilt on your face was immediate. You looked back toward the ocean. "I know."

"You know?"

"I saw your messages."

Rafe went still. "You saw them?"

You nodded slowly. "I just... I couldn’t answer."

A thousand emotions crossed his face atonce. Relief. Frustration. Worry. Hurt.

"Why?”

Your fingers twisted together in your lap.

Because now that he was standing there, now that someone had actually found you, the walls you’d spent three days building suddenly felt impossible to keep up.

"I had a huge fight with my dad. Like, the worst one we’ve ever had."

You let out a shaky breath.

"He said things. I said things. And I know I probably shouldn’t have left, but I just..." Your voice broke slightly. "I couldn’t be there anymore."

Rafe stayed quiet, letting you talk.

"I felt like I was losing my mind. Like every single thing I did was wrong. And then I started thinking about everyone else."

You looked down.

"About you."

His eyebrows pulled together. "Me?"

Your voice became smaller. "I ignored you. And my friends. Everyone was probably worried and I just disappeared without a word.”

Rafe stepped closer, his voice gentle. "You disappeared because you needed space."

"But I hurt people."

"No."

The answer came so quickly it made you look up.

"You scared people. There’s a difference."

You looked away again.

"I should’ve said something."

"Yeah," he admitted softly. "You should have."

The honesty made your eyes sting.

"But I get it."

“You do?” You looked back at him.

He gave a small, humorless laugh. "No. Not completely."

He sat down beside you, leaving enough space between you that you could move if you wanted to.

"But I know what it’s like to feel like everything’stoo much. To think the easiest thing is just disappearing for a while."

You studied him as he looked out at the water.

"I just wish you would’ve let me know you were okay."

Your throat tightened. "I’m sorry."

He glanced over.

And there it was. The thing he had been waiting three days to see.

You weren’t pushing him away. You weren’t pretending nothing happened.

You were just hurt.

"I’m sorry I ignored you," you whispered. "I wasn’t trying to make you worry."

Rafe looked down, rubbing his hands together. "You have no idea how worried I was."

The honesty in his voice made your chest ache.

"I thought maybe you were done with me."

Your eyebrows furrowed. "What?"

He shrugged, looking embarrassed that he had even admitted it. "You went quiet. I didn’t know what I did."

"You didn’t do anything."

"I know that now."

A small silence settled between you.

Then, quietly, "I missed you."

It was such a simple thing. But after three days of wondering if he wouldever hear your voice again, it felt like everything.

"I didn’t want you to come all this way."

"Yeah, well." A faint smile tugged at his mouth. "Apparently I’m not very good at listening when it comes to you."

Despite everything, a small laugh escaped you. Rafe felt something in his chest loosen for the first time in days. There you were. Still you.

"I’m not asking for you to tell me everything," he said after a moment.

You looked at him.

"But next time?" He paused. "Just tell me you’re safe."

Your expression softened. "Okay."

"You promise?"

"I promise." You smiled softly.

For a moment, neither of you moved. Then Rafe held out his hand, almost hesitantly.

Not demanding. Not expecting.

Just offering.

You looked at it for a second before taking it. “Missing me within three days, hm?”

masterlist / navigation page

part four / part five

rafe cameron x pogue!routledge!reader

The warm evening air carried a quiet tension between the two of them as they sat on the beach, the distant crash of waves mingling with the soft hum of their conversation. Lilah had been eyeing Hallie for a while, a thought clearly spinning in her mind. Finally, she couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“So, Rafe bought you those things,” Lilah said, her voice casual but edged with something that hinted at curiosity. “A necklace, some sunglasses… that’s not just a casual gesture, Hallie.”

Hallie didn’t look at her. She didn’t need to. “You’re right. It’s not. But it doesn’t mean anything.”

Lilah raised an eyebrow. “Doesn’t it? Because it sure seems like he’s trying to get your attention.” She paused, letting the words hang in the air between them. “Look, I know everything with him and your brother is complicated, but… I think there’s a bigger picture here.”

Hallie stiffened, the familiar anger rising in her chest. “You think I should just forget it? Forget everything that’s happened between the Kooks and the Pogues? You don’t know what Rafe has done, how he’s treated us. How he’s treated my brother.”

Lilah leaned back on her hands, her eyes serious now. “I’m not saying forget the past. But think about it, Hallie. What if—just what if—accepting Rafe, accepting him into your life, could actually bring some peace? For you, for the Kooks, for the Pogues. It could break the cycle of this ridiculous rivalry, even if it’s just for you.”

Hallie shook her head. “This isn’t some kind of Romeo and Juliet story, Lilah. This is the Cut, and this is Figure 8. There’s no happily ever after here. Not with him.”

“I get that,” Lilah said, her voice quieter, but there was a flicker of something in her eyes—an idea, a theory. “But… maybe a secret fling with him could benefit you. Think about it—no one needs to know. It’s not about being with him long term, but… let’s be real, Hallie. You need to let some of that stress out. You’re so wound up, it’s not healthy. Rafe could fix that. He could be the distraction you need.”

Hallie stared at her, wide-eyed in disbelief. “That’s disgustingly inappropriate, Lilah. I’m not fucking Rafe Cameron.”

Lilah raised her hands in mock surrender, but there was no denying the seriousness in her voice. “I didn’t say you had to jump into bed with him right away. But you’re too tense, Hallie. You’re holding onto so much weight, and I think you could use some release. You need to feel something else for a change.”

Hallie exhaled sharply, her mind swirling with everything that had happened, the things Lilah was suggesting. She wasn’t sure if she was angry or just frustrated. “I’m not going there. Not with him. Not with anyone from that world.”

•••🩵🩶🤍•••🩵🩶🤍•••🩵🩶🤍•••🩵🩶🤍•••I

Warnings: angst, mentions of past abuse (Luke/Topper), swearing, fighting/violence, injuries, self-worth struggles

Summary: A bruised night gives way to a morning of confessions, apologies, and a kiss that changes everything. With Ellie in your arms and JJ’s chaos in the background, you and John B begin to find home in each other.

Word count: 5k

•••🩵🩶🤍•••🩵🩶🤍•••🩵🩶🤍•••🩵🩶🤍•••

The knock on the door wasn’t really a knock at all—more like a crash of bodies, voices pitched too high, the scrape of boots against the porch. You jolted up from the couch where you’d been curled with Ellie’s baby monitor glowing at your side.

When the door swung wide, the first thing you saw was Pope’s face, grim set and jaw tight. Then Cleo’s arm under JJ’s shoulder, practically hauling him in. And behind them—

“Jesus Christ,” you whispered.

John B.

His eye was already blooming purple, lip split, blood streaking down his chin. His shirt was torn at the collar, his knuckles raw and caked with blood. Kie had one arm around his waist, dragging him through the door as if he were dead weight.

Ellie stirred in the monitor but didn’t cry. A small miracle.

“What the hell happened?” Your voice cracked, too sharp, already on the edge of panic. You crossed the room in seconds, hands out before you even thought about what you’d do with them.

“Nothing,” John B muttered, staggering when Kie let him drop onto the couch.

“Nothing?” you snapped. “You look like you went three rounds with a truck, John B.”

He flinched but didn’t answer. His gaze skittered away, landing anywhere but on you.

JJ groaned from where Pope lowered him into the armchair. He had a cut along his cheekbone, swollen knuckles, but compared to John B he looked almost lucky. “Don’t look at me like that. I told him we should’ve walked.”

“Then why didn’t you?” you fired back, chest heaving. Your hands shook as you grabbed the rag draped over the arm of the couch, ran to wet it in the kitchen, and came back, kneeling at John B’s side.

He tried to wave you off, but you caught his wrist. His knuckles were split, skin hanging ragged. “You’re not walking away from this,” you muttered, pressing the rag to his hand. He hissed but didn’t move.

Blood smeared across your fingers, hot and real. You could barely breathe past it.

“Tell me what happened,” you said, softer now. “Please.”

“It’s nothing,” he repeated, jaw locking.

Your temper flared hot. “Don’t do that, John B. Don’t sit here bleeding all over my hands and tell me it’s nothing.”

He winced but stayed silent.

You turned on the others, desperation sharpening your words. “One of you better start talking. Now.”

Cleo glanced at Pope. Pope glanced at Kie. Kie finally sighed, shoulders slumping. “It was Topper.”

Of course it was.

“He started running his mouth,” Pope added quietly. “Said some things.”

Your stomach dropped. “What things?”

Silence.

Your throat closed. “Tell me.”

JJ shifted in his chair, glaring at the floor. His voice came out like gravel. “He said you were playing house. Taking Sarah’s spot. Said you were never any good at being a girlfriend. Or in bed.”

The words hit like a blade between your ribs.

For a second, you couldn’t breathe. You sat frozen, the rag slipping in your hands, blood blooming across John B’s skin. Gratitude burned faintly—because they hadn’t let Topper get away with it—but the anger and shame were louder.

John B finally looked at you, face hollow, lips parted like he wanted to explain. To defend. To do something.

You beat him to it. “You let him get to you?”

His jaw snapped shut.

“You got yourself beat to hell over that?” Your voice rose, raw. “Over me?”

“Don’t,” he rasped.

“Don’t what? Don’t remind you you’re supposed to be taking care of a baby instead of throwing punches at keggers? Don’t remind you—” Your voice cracked. You slammed the rag down on the table, blood staining the wood. “Don’t remind you that you scared the shit out of me?”

He pushed up straighter on the couch, shoulders tense. “You don’t need to take care of me,” he bit out. “You take care of Ellie. That’s it.”

The words sliced clean through you.

You blinked, stunned, every muscle in your body going still. “Wow,” you whispered, voice shaking. “Okay.”

Then you stood, too fast, your chair scraping. The room blurred as you turned and walked down the hall. The slam of your bedroom door rattled the walls.

•••🩵🩶🤍•••🩵🩶🤍•••🩵🩶🤍•••🩵🩶🤍•••

The silence that followed felt like broken glass.

Then JJ was on his feet, or as close to it as his busted hand allowed. He staggered forward, eyes blazing, and pointed a finger straight at John B.

“You’re a fucking dick,” JJ spat. “You know that?”

John B dragged a hand over his face, smearing blood. “Don’t start with me right now.”

“No, I’m starting,” JJ snapped, stepping closer. “Because she’s in her room crying her eyes out, and you’re sitting here acting like you didn’t just gut her with that bullshit.”

“She doesn’t need me leaning on her,” John B muttered.

JJ laughed, sharp and ugly. “She wants you to. She’s in love with you. You too blind to see it?”

John B froze. His good hand curled into a fist on his knee.

JJ’s voice cracked, equal parts fury and exhaustion. “I know my sister better than anyone. She’s in love with you. Has been. And you just told her she doesn’t matter, that she’s just here to babysit.”

John B’s throat worked. He looked at the hallway where your door was shut tight, then back at JJ, eyes wild. “She deserves better than me.”

JJ swore under his breath, shaking his head. “Then be better. Or let her go. But stop being an idiot before you ruin the only good thing you’ve got left.”

The room rang with it, heavy and merciless.

John B didn’t answer. Couldn’t. He just sat there, staring at the blood on his hands, hating himself more than Topper ever could.

•••🩵🩶🤍•••🩵🩶🤍•••🩵🩶🤍•••🩵🩶🤍•••

The kitchen is too quiet the next morning. Not the safe kind of quiet, but the fragile one that feels like glass stretched thin. The kettle hums, a slow ache of steam. The creamer bottle waits on the counter—off-brand chocolate mocha, two-for-one at the Piggly Wiggly because the real stuff costs more than you’ll admit. Fancy on sale. You hold your mug like it’s full already, like maybe the weight alone can warm you.

The floorboard behind you groans its warning. You don’t turn.

“Hey,” John B says. His voice is shredded, low, like he hasn’t used it since last night.

“Morning.” You keep your eyes on the steam.

Then he’s there, chest to your back, arms sliding around your waist, his cheek pressed to your shoulder like he’s afraid you’ll vanish if he doesn’t hold on. His breath ghosts your skin when he speaks.

“I’m sorry. For the fight. For the words. For all of it.”

You let out a breath that shakes in the middle. “You should be.”

“I am,” he says, and then the words repeat, over and over, whispered into your skin as he trails kisses up the line of your throat. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. The split in his lip stings—you feel it in the pause before his mouth brushes higher, just under your jaw.

Your fingers tighten on the mug. You set it down before it breaks. “My whole life, men made me small. Luke did it sober because I looked like her. Drunk, because I was the ghost he could punish. Topper did it with a smile, comparing me to every girl he ever touched. And last night—” you swallow hard—“last night, you did it too. I can’t do this if you make me feel that way again.”

His whole body goes still. Then his arms squeeze once, careful. “I won’t,” he says, hoarse and steady. “Not ever again.”

When you finally turn, he looks destroyed. The black eye spread purple and yellow at the edges. Lip split, swelling. Knuckles wrapped in tape, still angry red around the seams. But it’s his eyes that gut you: wide, pleading, carrying more regret than bruises.

“I don’t understand my body,” you confess, the words scraping out. “When you’re close, I—my skin wakes up. I want you, and it scares me because wanting always meant paying. And emotionally—” your throat trips, “I’m already in love with you. It feels like stepping off a boat in the dark. I can’t see what’s under me. I just know I want to be where you are. And I don’t know how to be in love without expecting to drown.”

Something like relief flashes through his pain, like he needed you to say it to believe it was real. He cups your jaw with his good hand, thumb stroking once, soft.

“I haven’t felt anything since Sarah,” he says, naming it without flinching. “Not like this. I tried to kill it last night, because wanting you felt like betrayal. But it’s not. It’s the only thing that’s made me feel alive in almost a year. And I do love you. JJ’s got the biggest damn mouth on this island, but he wasn’t wrong about that. I love you.”

You don’t wait. You grab the front of his shirt and pull him down, and his mouth finds yours like it’s been starving. It’s careful first—tilted to protect his split lip—then desperate, the kind of kiss that feels like falling and catching yourself in the same breath. His hand fists in your hair, not harsh, just anchoring. Yours clutch his chest, feeling the thud of his heartbeat under bruised bone.

It’s everything you never let yourself believe you could have: want that feels safe, love that doesn’t shrink you, a kiss that doesn’t punish.

A door slams open.

“Emergency!” JJ’s voice ricochets down the hall. He barrels into the kitchen, hair wild, shirt crooked, holding Ellie under the armpits like a football. “She popped and I need to poop, take your girl.”

Before you can blink, he plops Ellie into your arms, points at John B with all the drama of a prophet, and disappears down the hall. The bathroom door slams shut.

You and John B stare at each other. Ellie blinks up at you, half awake, unimpressed. And then it hits—laughter bursting out of both of you, so hard it folds you in half. Tears sting your eyes for the first good reason in forever.

“She popped,” you choke, kissing Ellie’s damp hair. “Oh my god.”

John B wipes at his eye, winces when the bruise reminds him. “He’s insane. Absolute menace.”

“Your best friend,” you remind him.

“Your brother,” he fires back, and that makes you laugh harder until Ellie grunts like okay but calm down.

The air feels lighter after that, as if JJ’s idiocy kicked open a window. John B moves to the counter, fumbling one-handed with the formula. You carry Ellie to the couch, lay her down, and make quick work of a diaper change. She protests with little squeaks, then kicks her feet like she’s forgiven you already. By the time JB brings the bottle, she’s clean and cooing.

“Here,” he says, handing it over. His taped knuckles brush yours, careful.

You test the heat on your wrist, then guide it to Ellie’s mouth. She latches instantly, greedy. Her tiny hand curls around your thumb as she drinks, her lashes fanning against her cheeks.

John B sinks beside you. His face is a mess of bruises, but his eyes are soft, steady on you. You can feel it without looking: the way he’s watching, the way his chest rises heavier than before.

Something in him cracks open as he sees you like this—hair messy, shirt rumpled, bottle in one hand, baby in the other. You don’t notice, too focused on Ellie’s steady suck, but he’s thinking it anyway: that you already move like her mom. That maybe you’ve been her mom in all the ways that matter.

“Jellybean,” you whisper, brushing your thumb across Ellie’s cheek. “Slow down.” She hums around the bottle, stubborn. You smile.

John B leans closer. You feel the heat of him at your shoulder before you see him. He looks at Ellie, then at you, and something shifts in his face like a decision just clicked into place.

“Home,” he whispers, not testing the word, but naming it.

You look up at him, stunned, bottle still steady at Ellie’s lips. And then his mouth finds yours again. Gentle this time, reverent. He kisses you while you hold his daughter—your girl now, too—and it’s soft and aching and full of every vow he doesn’t yet know how to say out loud.

Ellie sighs, perfectly content, and you smile against his bruised lips because maybe this is it. This messy, ridiculous, tender moment: cheap coffee, an idiot brother, a baby between you, and a boy who makes you feel big instead of small.

Maybe this is what home feels like.

•••🩵🩶🤍•••🩵🩶🤍•••🩵🩶🤍•••🩵🩶🤍•••

If that is a bit too dark that’s okay I just had the idea while listening to the song

okay I'm officially obsessed with this request after listening to the song and crying wtffff amazing

This is screaming Maybank Reader. Maybe JJ's younger sister. He's out and readers dad beats the crap out of her thinks she's JJ. she never gets hurt that bad

I low key love how dark it is. It's not terribly dark but pushes the limits. Plus who wouldn't love that father getting what he deserves

Hella fluff at the end and maybe even JJ accepting it?? Ahh that could be so cute!!

Little Star Fish

Pairing - John B x Reader (Your JJ’ s Sister)

Summary - Your dad becomes abusive again as your at home, You and John B get closer as He cleans you up!

Warnings - Angst, abuse (Abusive Dad,Fighting, Blood)

A/N - Thank you for your request, Hope you enjoy! Lots of appreciation to the love and support to my content 🥰

You tiptoed through the door, bending down to go through your draws, “Y/N or JJ I know your in there,” your dad stumbles, bashing on the door.

Your breath hitched, quickly piling clothes into your bag as you can hear Luke shouting non sense words again.

Luke got through the door, “Are you leaving me again? Just like your mother,” he scowls at you, you have your head down thinking of how to get out of this one.

“Look to me, when I’m speaking to you,” He grabs your hair and slaps you across the face, “No, no I wasn’t leaving,” you lied, rubbing your face as you try to distract him. (not to see your bag)

“JJ is coming back too, he asked me to come back first,” You lied again, walking to the kitchen to make out your staying.

“You better not,” Luke grabbed your arm, “Fuck, let go,” You whimper, “No, you listen to me! I’m the one who gave you things to survive,” he pushes you against the fridge, not breaking his hold onto you as he continues.

The one to make us survive, ha ha funny! You thought but didn’t say anything to fuel the fire.

“When your brother comes back, I’m gonna beat him too!!” Your Dad scowls as his finger dig into your side harder, clearly angry for no reason.

“Please, let go!” You gasped for air, kicking him right in the crotch, you ran into your bedroom to get your bag.

“Come back here, you little bitch! I knew you was lying, just like your mother,” He ran after you, you nearly escape until you tripped outside the house.

“Fuck,” You scowl to yourself, as you hit the grass.

“That’s it, you whore! You think you can hang out with those dirty, shit bags that JJ calls friends?” Luke kicked you in your rips as you hiss, trying to get away but too weak.

“Think again, they are only using you!” Luke tutted, hitting your sides again, “No they aren’t, stop your hurting me!” You knee him in the chest, making a run for it.

You got away as Luke can’t run because he is clearly drunk and can’t keep his balance.

You huffed, as you walk slowly to the chateau. Your brother is going to kill you for going back there without him, but you desperately needed clothes and he was at work.

You hissed, looking down to see blood coming from a open wound.. a cut, which reopened that Luke did last week.

You had a few new bruises on your side now, not too noticeable but enough for your brother to see that your hurt.

Your only focus right now is to see if John B is about, your going to be thankful in high heaven if he has time for you.

You sigh in relief as you see the Twinkie parked in front of his house and the HMS Pogue at the docks.

You climb up to the porch, seeing he is actually asleep. You smile seeing how cute he is, cute little snores coming from his nose and mouth.

You curl yourself up in the a ball, just watching him sleep for a few minutes. You forget the pain your in with your life situation, mentally and physically by just watching John B.

John B stirs, his eyes flutter open to see you deep in thought.

“Hey, Y/N,” He smiles, “You could of woke me up, I didn’t think you was coming until later with the others,” 

“I was going to but Um,” You quietly, gulped, “What’s wrong, Little Star Fish?” John B took your hand, a pet name he always has used for you.

“It’s my dad, again,” You mumble into his shoulder as he pulls you closer, “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t there to protect you! You should of said, I would of come with,”

“No, no it’s not your problem! It’s ok,” you shook your head, “Non sense, You and JJ are my best friends! I can’t just stand here and not protect you,” John B caresses your cheek as he brushes the tears away.

Your heart just skipped a beat at the way he is holding you in his arms but he did just say you are his best friend.. nothing more right?

“I’ll clean you up, Little Star Fish,” John B gets up to grab the First Aid box, “Tell me if I’m hurting you too bad,”

You nod as you feel John B cleaning your cuts and bruises with a rubbing alcohol wipe.

“Shit,” You hiss, “You good?” John B asked, you nod, “Your so brave,” he praises as he puts a plaster on your open cuts.

“Braver than me,” he teased, remembering when Kie patched him up.

“Anyones braver than you when it comes to cuts and bruises,” You smirk, teasing back.

“There is that smile, I love so much,” John B poked out his tongue, putting down the box as he turns to you.

“I hate seeing you hurt,” John B mumbles, pulling you into a tight hug, “You and JJ, always welcome round here anytime to crash and stay,”

“I know, that,” You giggle, looking at his lips so plumped and sweet.

You catch yourself thinking sometimes, what it would be like to kiss your Brother’s Best Friend!

“God, I’m thankful that your safe here with me now,” John B holds your head against his chest scared to let you go.

You decide to be brave today, what else? Have you got to loose!

“I wouldn’t know what to do if you weren’t around, your such a good person! Always knowing how to calm me and the rest of the boys..”

You cut John B off by giving him a smooth gentle kiss on his lips, “Down,” he stuttered, “I’m not making you calm now, am I?” You tease as you can feel and hear his heart beat against his chest.

John B too stunned to speak! Instead, he gently pulls you back in for another passionate kiss to grace you an answer.

“Your brother is so going to kill me,” he mumbles, “Not if he don’t find out!” You smirk, pressing another kiss to his lips.

“I can’t believe you like me!” John B chuckles, “Am I dreaming?” He pinches his cheeks.

“No, silly Billy!” You giggle, taking his hands into your own, “I’ve liked you a lot since being with you all the time because of my brother and just being your friend, in general is amazing!”

“Same,” John B replies smiling, you snuggle into him on the couch, “Will you be my girlfriend?”

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x maybank!reader

Warnings: drinking

A/N: Welcome to my new Rafe series!! Enjoy, and as always, feedback is appreciated ☺️

——————————————————————————

It wasn’t often that I found myself crushing on someone, I found it was never worth the time. It would be more beneficial to focus on work and school. It was my senior year, and I had to really focus if I wanted to get good enough grades to get into a decent college. I needed to get through college, get a good job, and finally get my brother, JJ, and I set up for success. Yet, knowing all of this, I can’t help the lingering stares, and constant daydreaming, over the one I shouldn’t want. Rafe Cameron.

I shouldn’t want him, he’s always hated all of us. My brother and his friends were constantly in fights with him, even more now that John B is dating his sister. He hates me simply because I’m a Maybank. ‘Destined for alcoholism and prison’ he had said once. He never seemed to see the irony in that statement, as I don’t think I’ve ever seen him sober.

I don’t even know how this stupid crush started. For the longest time he wasn’t even on my radar, just a slight annoyance we had to deal with occasionally. Then one day, we passed each other walking down the street, and he smiled at me. And for once it wasn’t followed with some snide remark, or threat to be passed to my brother. Just a smile and slight head nod. And that was it for me. Ever since then I can’t stop thinking about him. I find myself looking for him at every kegger. I never go and talk to him, but I like seeing those moments when he’s just laughing with his friends. No fighting, no tension, just him laughing like he hasn’t a care in the world. Which, to be fair, he probably doesn’t. When you have the type of money he does, any worries can be quickly washed away. Or bribed away.

That’s where I’m at right now, sitting on a log at yet another kegger, watching him laugh. Sighing, I lift my cup to finish off the little beer that was left in it.

“You okay?” I hear JJ ask, as he sits next to me.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just in my own little world over here.” I say. I could never tell him about this crush. Not that it even matters, it’ll fade away in time.

“Hey, real quick.” JJ says, with a serious look on his face. “Dads out of jail again. You might wanna crash at John B’s with me tonight. Or see if you can stay with Kie if you’d rather. I just don’t want you going home.” He’s always been protective over me. I can’t count the times he’s taken blame for stuff that I did, just so I didn’t have our fathers anger turned towards me. I’ve told him a million times not too, that he doesn’t deserve it, especially when it’s for something he didn’t do, but I know he won’t ever stop throwing himself between us.

“Okay. Thanks for the warning.” I say. “I’ll let you know what I decide on doing, but I promise I won’t go there, okay?”

“Okay, good. Want me to grab you another beer?” He asks me.

“No it’s okay, I’ll get it. Now go flirt with some chick or something instead of talking to me all night.” I say as I stand up.

“Hey, I’ll always enjoy hanging out with my little sister. But fine. Go have fun. Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Do I ever?” I ask, getting a laugh out of him as I start to head towards the keg to refill my cup, and he rejoins Pope by the fire they have going.

I go to fill my cup, but it’s all out. “Are you kidding me.” I groan to myself, throwing my head back in frustration.

“There’s another keg over there.” I hear someone say behind me. I turn around, and find Rafe standing there.

“Oh.. where at?” I ask him, thanking god that it’s dark and he can’t see the blush forming on my cheeks.

He points across the crowd of people. “Behind that big group.” He says. I stand on my tiptoes to try to see exactly where he’s pointing. He chuckles, “here, let me show you.” Before I can react he grabs my hand and starts leading me through the crowd. My mind and heart is racing. My first thought is how I can’t believe he’s holding onto my hand right now. The next thought is that this must be a way to get a reaction out of my brother and the others. Before I can put much thought into this, we break through the group, and I can see the keg he was talking about.

“Pretty sure this ones still good.” He says, letting go of my hand and taking my cup to fill it up.

“Thank you, I had no idea this one was here.” I say, trying not to let my nervousness right now show.

“Yeah I figured when I saw how frustrated you got before.” He chuckles as he says this. He turns and hands me my cup. “Surprised to see your brother isn’t right on your tail.”

“We’re not glued at the hip, you know.” I say, sipping from my cup.

“No, I know you’re not. I just meant… I didn’t know if he’d seen me bring you here and think something was up. I’m not really in the mood for another fight tonight.” He says, filling his own cup now.

“I see. And where are your little buddies? Did they leave you all on your lonesome?” I ask him, not wanting to walk away from him quite yet.

“It seems they have found better company than me.” He nods his head towards the edge of the party, where Topper was attached to some girls lips.

I laugh, “Yes it seems they have.” Before I can say anything else, I feel my phone vibrate with a text. I pull it out to check my messages.

JJ: where did you go?

JJ: please tell me you didn’t go home immediately after saying you wouldn’t.

“Boyfriend checking in on you?” Rafe asks, pulling his drink up to his mouth while side eyeing me.

“Nope, don’t have one of those. It’s just JJ making sure I didn’t go home. I promised him I wouldn’t tonight.” I say, while typing my response.

Me: nope, im still here, j

“Why can’t you go home?” He asks, looking confused.

JJ: where? I can’t see you anywhere

“My dads home.” I say, shrugging.

Me: found some friends from school, talking to them a bit. I’ll be back over there soon.

“Why does that matter?” He looks even more confused than before. I just look at him, not saying anything before I feel the vibrate telling me JJ replied.

JJ: okay. See you soon.

“Y/n. Is it safe for you at home?” He asks, voice laced with concern. He gently grips my arm, and I try to push away the butterflies that form.

I tuck my phone back into my pocket, take another drink, and mumble “not when he’s there.” I finish off the drink and turn to refill it. I look to Rafe when it’s full, and he’s staring off in the distance, looking tense.

“Do you have somewhere to go?” He asks.

“Technically yes. Usually JJ and I stay at John Bs when dads home. But lately it’s been.. well, awkward. I’m usually on the pull out couch while John Bs in his room with Sarah, and JJ has the girl of the night in the spare room. Small house; thin walls.. you get it.” I explain, and down about half my cup in what feels like one drink. “My back up is usually Kies, but her parents are sick of her hanging around us lowlifes, so that’s out unless I sneak in, which I hate doing.” I finish off the cup, I don’t normally drink this much this quick, but the situation was getting to me. I go to refill the cup again but Rafe stops me.

“You should slow down on those.” He says, but I ignore him and refill it anyway. “Look, Sarah’s not gonna be home. Why don’t you come sleep in her room, at least for tonight?” He suggests.

“Why would you help me? I thought you hated me.” I say, the alcohol in my system is definitely making itself known to me now.

“I don’t hate you. I’m not particularly fond of your brother, or your dad for that matter, but I’ve never had an issue with you. Come on, you’ll have her room and bathroom all to yourself, my parents aren’t home so you don’t need to worry about them saying anything.”

I think about this. JJ would absolutely not be okay with this. But for some reason, all I can think about is how Sarah must have a super comfortable bed. All I’ve ever slept on were either couches or shitty worn out mattresses. I’d like to think that the thought of sleeping on a soft bed was my driving force to agreeing, but I know deep down that it’s simply because I want more time with this version of Rafe.

“Okay. But I would need a ride, is that okay?” I ask, and he breaks out into that stupid grin I love so much.

“Yeah of course. But I was about to be heading out after this last beer, are you good heading out now?”

“Yeah, but JJ can’t see us leave together or you’ll get that fight you aren’t in the mood for. Can I meet you at your truck?” Pulling out my phone to message JJ.

“Yeah no problem. I’ll see you in a minute?”

He explains to me where he’s parked, gives me his number in case I got lost, and walks away. I type out my message the best I can being drunk.

Me: staing at friend hous

JJ: okay drunky. What friend?

Me: ashley frm school. Imnot dunk.

JJ: mhm sure. Text me tomorrow, ok?

Me: kk love you jayyyyy

JJ: love you y/n/n

I chug the last of my drink and start to head to where I think Rafe said he was parked. After a few minutes I finally find him, leaning against his truck.

“Found you!” I exclaim, stumbling towards him. Chugging that last beer sent me over the edge of tipsy to full blown drunk.

He chuckles, catching me as I stumble into him. “How did you manage to get more drunk in the few minutes since I walked away?” He asks while helping me into his truck.

“Couldn’t waste the beer.” I mumble, leaning back.

He gets in the drivers seat, shaking his head at me, but smiling. We spend the drive back to his house talking about the random thoughts that are popping into my head, and somehow end up in an argument about super hero’s.

“How in the world do you think Spider-Man could win against the Hulk?” He asks, laughing as he parks.

“Easy. Because I like him more.” I say, slurring my words.

“That’s not exactly an explanation, but okay.” He says as he leads me into the house. “Are you hungry, or do you wanna go to bed?”

“Always hungry.” I say, holding on to him for support. He leads me into the kitchen, and props me up on the counter before moving to the fridge.

“What sounds good?”

“Grilled cheese!” I say, loudly, causing him to laugh yet again.

“Grilled cheese it is.”

I watch as he begins making us our food. He looks so good tonight. The black polo he’s wearing shows off his muscles perfectly. He’s wearing a black hat, backwards of course, and I love it.

“You’re beautiful, you know?” I say, too drunk to have a filter or be embarrassed.

He smiles, “yeah? Am I?”

“Yeah. I wish you were nicer to my brother though. Then I wouldn’t have to feel bad about my stupid crush on you.” I say, grabbing into the edge of the counter so I don’t fall off.

“You have a crush on me?” He asks, moving closer to me.

“Well yeah; look at you. You’re beautiful.” I say quietly, looking down. He steps in between my legs, gently placing his hands on the sides of my face, making me lift my head to look at him.

“You’re beautiful, too, y/n.” He whispers, before slowly leaning down, and pressing his lips against mine. An explosion of butterflies erupt in my stomach. My hands immediately find a place behind his neck, pulling him into me more. The kiss is gentle, and sweet. Rafe deepens the kiss, and I let my hands roam down his chest, feeling his abs from over his shirt. He moves his hands to put them on top of mine, and breaks the kiss. “As much as love this, we have to stop for right now.” Causing me to give him a pout. “Don’t pout y/n.. I just can’t let this go further while you’re drunk, okay?” I nod in response.

He steps away and goes back to cooking, and gets a couple plates. We quietly eat our food, and then Rafe puts our plates in the sink.

“You ready for bed now?” He asks, and I nod. He helps me down from the counter, and leads me up to Sarah’s room. He finds some pajamas of hers to let me sleep in, and I go into the bathroom to change. When I come out, Rafe is sitting on the edge of the bed scrolling through his phone. I sit next to him and rest my head on his shoulder.

“Can I sleep in your bed with you instead?” I ask while closing my eyes. He wraps an arm around my waist.

“You sure you wanna do that?” He asks.

“Mhm.. Wanna cuddle.” I say.

“Okay. Yeah that’s fine.” He helps to stand, and shows me to his room. He pulls the blankets back on his bed, and I climb in. “I’m gonna go change, okay?” He grabs a T-shirt and sweatpants and goes into his bathroom to change. When he comes out, I scoot over in the bed for him and he get in, pulling the covers over our bodies. He opens his arms for me, and I lay my head on his chest and snuggle in close to him.

“Goodnight Rafe.” I mumble against his chest.

I’m sitting on a bad boy piece of information….

paring(s): pope x maybank!reader