#obx3

Could’ve Fooled Me

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Masterlist

Context / Tropes: • Secret relationship, Mean!Rafe, Kook!Reader, Angst with moments of fluff

warnings: emotional manipulation, toxic relationship dynamics, public humiliation, sexual comments, strong language, angst, hurt/no comfort, secrecy, internalized shame, unhealthy attachment

a/n: this chapter contains some heavier emotional content and relationship toxicity, so please read with care <3

⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ᰔ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ᰔ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ᰔ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹

My relationship with Rafe was complicated.

That was the word I used whenever I couldn't bring myself to say what it actually was. Complicated sounded manageable. It sounded neat. It didn't sound like the kind of thing that kept me up at night, staring at my ceiling and replaying every look, every silence, every time he stood beside me and still somehow made me feel alone.

The truth was, it hurt.

We were together. Really together. Not casually, not halfway, not in some vague, meaningless way I could brush off if anyone asked. It was almost a year of stolen time and hidden touches. Quiet conversations in the dark. Fingers brushing under tables where no one could see. Kisses that felt so full of feeling they left me shaky for hours after. We built something real, something alive, in private.

And still, in public, I didn't exist.

Not in the romantic, thrilling kind of secret way either. Not the kind that makes your heart race because it's forbidden. It wasn't exciting. It wasn't passionate. It was just... humiliating. Like I was something to be tucked away. Something inconvenient. Something that didn't fit into the version of himself he showed everyone else.

I never fully understood why I accepted it.

Maybe because I loved him.

Maybe because when Rafe looked at me like I was the only person in the world, I could almost forget that the second we stepped outside, he'd go cold.

I told myself love was enough. I told myself that if what we had was real, if the way he touched me and looked at me and said my name when it was just the two of us meant anything, then the rest shouldn't matter.

But it did.

It mattered every single time Topper opened his mouth.

Topper never let anything go. Neither did Kelce. They had this way of making everything sound like a joke, like they were just messing around, but every word landed exactly where it was meant to.

"Didn't know you were a theater kid," Topper would say with that smug little sneer, like he'd caught me doing something pathetic.

Kelce would snort and bump his shoulder against Topper's. "What, you gonna start singing on the docks next?"

They'd laugh. Always laugh.

And I would smile like it didn't bother me because reacting would've made it worse. My chest would go tight. My stomach would twist so hard it made me feel sick. I'd keep my face calm and wait.

I always waited for Rafe.

For him to say, Knock it off. For him to look at me like he knew me. For him to do something, anything, that made it clear I wasn't standing there alone.

He never did.

Sometimes it was worse than silence.

Sometimes he joined in.

"Yeah," he'd say with this short laugh, shaking his head like I was ridiculous. "Didn't see that coming."

He'd say it so easily too. Like it cost him nothing.

Coming from anyone else, it would've stung. Coming from him, it felt like something inside me cracked clean through.

And the worst part was that half the time, when I looked at him after, there'd be this flicker in his face. Something tight around his eyes. Something unreadable. Like maybe he knew. Like maybe he hated himself for it. But he never took it back, and after a while, I stopped pretending that almost mattered.

Then there was Kiara.

One afternoon, somebody spat the word Pogue at me just because they'd seen me talking to her. Sharp. Mean. Ugly in a way that made the back of my neck burn.

The irony would've been funny if it hadn't hurt so much. We were all Kooks. Every single one of us. But that didn't matter. Not when tearing me down was easier than thinking for half a second.

I snapped before I could stop myself.

"I'm not a Pogue," I shot back, my voice already shaking. "You know that."

I hated that my voice shook. Hated that they could hear they'd gotten to me.

Rafe barely looked up.

He just shrugged, casual as anything. "Relax. It's not that serious."

I remember staring at him, thinking, Are you serious?

Not that serious.

Maybe not to him. But it was serious to me.

It was humiliating. It was isolating. It was exhausting.

Every time he laughed something off, every time he stayed quiet, every time he acted like I was asking for too much just because I wanted him to acknowledge me, it felt like a choice. Like he was choosing them. Choosing comfort. Choosing his image. Choosing everything else over me.

Like he was reminding me exactly where I belonged.

In the background. Unnamed. Unclaimed. Easy to overlook.

I told myself I should leave. I did.

There were nights I'd lie awake and think, I can't keep doing this. I deserve better than this. I deserve someone who won't touch me like they love me and then look straight through me the next morning.

Sometimes I even pictured it. Me walking away. Me finally saying no. Me choosing myself for once.

But I never did.

Because when it was just us, he changed.

He always changed.

The hardness in him would slip. His voice would go softer, lower, like he was letting me hear something no one else got to.

He'd pull me into him and press his mouth to my temple and say, "Hey. Come on. I didn't mean it like that."

Or he'd cup my face, forcing me to look at him, and murmur, "I'm sorry, okay? You know I care about you."

And I believed him. Every time.

Maybe that made me stupid. Maybe it just made me in love.

Because I did love him.

I loved him so much it scared me sometimes. Loved him deep enough that I kept making room for the hurt. Deep enough that I swallowed my pride and called it patience. Deep enough that I accepted apologies that started sounding more like routine than change.

Lately, though, something's different.

The hurt lingers longer. The words echo louder. The apologies don't settle over the damage the way they used to.

And somewhere in the middle of all of that, this quiet, awful question has started to take shape inside me.

How long can love survive if it only exists in the dark?

"Coach has been running us into the ground," Rafe mutters, yanking his uniform shirt over his head like the fabric personally offended him. "Swear to God, it's like he gets off on making us suffer."

He drags the shirt down hard and exhales through his nose, already irritated at the day and it's barely started.

I sit on his bed and watch him through the mirror in my compact, pretending I'm focused on my mascara.

I'm not.

I'm watching the shadows under his eyes, darker than usual. The way his hair sticks up at the back because he clearly didn't bother fixing it properly. The slight slowness in his movements that he would never admit to, like he's more tired than he wants anyone to know.

There's something about him like this that gets to me every time. Not polished. Not smirking for show. Not sharp enough to cut anyone who gets too close. Just tired. Real. Mine, for a little while.

It makes my chest ache with this stupid, tender kind of love I can't ever seem to get rid of.

It's only eight-thirty in the morning. The sun's barely up properly. No one our age should be awake, let alone dressed and pretending to function.

But Rafe drives me to school almost every morning.

Under the excuse of tutoring.

At eight-thirty. Every day.

The lie is ridiculous, honestly.

I can already hear the way he says it to Topper and Kelce. Lazy voice. Dismissive shrug. Like it's barely worth mentioning.

"Yeah, man, it's just easier before class. Only time that works."

As if I'm a timeslot. As if I'm not the reason he gets up at all. As if he doesn't text me when he's outside and wait until I get in the car before peeling away from the curb.

The excuse is paper-thin, and we both know it.

I never call him on it.

Because even this is something. These quiet mornings in his room. These little pieces of him before the rest of the world gets him. These half-hours where he lets himself look at me like I matter.

It shouldn't be enough. But with him, somehow, it always feels dangerously close.

"Maybe you should try for captain again," I say, keeping my tone light while I run mascara over my lashes. I have to hold the compact awkwardly in one hand because he doesn't have a desk, so I'm perched on the edge of his bed with my knees tucked in, concentrating hard enough that my tongue presses against my cheek.

He lets out a humorless laugh from across the room. "Yeah, no. Hard pass."

I glance up. "Why not?"

Rafe looks at me like I've asked the dumbest question he's ever heard. "Because I don't feel like dealing with a bunch of idiots who need everything spelled out for them all the time."

I smile despite myself. "You say that about literally everything."

He starts buttoning his shirt, expression flattening into that smug look he wears so naturally. "Not everything."

Then, quieter, like he's trying to sound casual and missing by a mile, he says, "Come over tonight."

My stomach flips so fast it almost annoys me.

Part of it is excitement. The instant, stupid kind I can't control whenever he wants me close. Part of it is hesitation, old and familiar. The kind that asks, Tonight in private? And tomorrow what?

Still, I roll my eyes because if I don't tease him, he'll know exactly what that did to me.

"Oh, I'm sure you do," I say, snapping the compact shut.

His mouth twitches.

Then he crosses the room and stops between my knees.

Too close. Close enough that I have to tilt my head back to look at him. Close enough that his cologne, clean and expensive and so specifically him, settles into my lungs.

He always does this. Just steps into my space like he already owns it. Like he knows I won't move.

Maybe he does know.

"I bought that game you were talking about," he says, voice dropping slightly, that teasing edge creeping in. "Figured we'd order food. Hang out for a bit."

I raise an eyebrow. "Hang out?"

He gives me a look. "Don't start."

I bite back a smile.

His gaze flicks to my mouth for half a second, and my pulse picks up right away. It's embarrassing how fast my body reacts to him. How easy it is. How after everything, after all the ways he can hurt me, one look from him still makes me feel warm all over.

"Sounds perfect," I admit before I can stop myself.

Then I add, because I need some kind of shield, "But only if I get a chicken burger."

"A chicken burger?" he repeats, like I'm asking for something deeply unreasonable.

"Yes."

"That's your condition?"

"That's my condition."

He stares at me for a second, then leans in until his forehead rests against mine.

His eyes go mock-serious. "Then a chicken burger is what you shall receive."

I laugh softly.

He pauses, then adds, thick with sarcasm, "Babe."

"You're such a dweeb," I mumble, even though my whole face feels warm.

He grins at that. A real grin, not the sharp, mean version he gives everyone else. It's unfair, honestly, how different he can look when he's actually happy.

I try to shift away, mostly to save myself, but he suddenly drops his weight onto me and sends us both falling back on the bed.

I let out this breathless half-squeal, half-laugh and grab at his shoulders on instinct. "Rafe!"

"What?" he says, laughing like he's innocent.

"You're literally the worst."

"Yeah?" He dips his head and presses a quick kiss to my mouth. "You seem obsessed with me, so."

"You're insane."

He kisses me again. Quick. Light. Then again. And again.

Playful little pecks that make me laugh so hard I can barely get a proper breath in.

"Rafe," I say, squirming under him. "Stop."

He kisses the corner of my mouth. "Make me."

I shove weakly at his chest. "Just kiss me properly. You're so annoying."

He pulls back just enough to look at me.

And there it is.

That look. Dark eyes gone warm. Mouth curved like he knows exactly what he's doing to me. Something soft underneath all the arrogance, all the bite, all the damage.

Entirely too familiar. Entirely mine, for now.

Then he leans down and kisses me properly.

Slow. Certain. Unrushed in a way that feels almost dangerous, because it tricks me into believing he has nowhere else to be. Like the world outside this room doesn't exist yet. Like he isn't Rafe Cameron, and I am not the girl he hides.

One of my hands slides into his shirt, fingers curling there just to feel the warmth of him. To make sure he's real. To make sure this is.

His mouth moves against mine with a kind of confidence that should irritate me and somehow never does. He always kisses me like he knows I'll follow. Like he knows I already have.

When he finally pulls back, it's only enough to murmur against my lips, "So bossy."

I smile, breath still uneven. "Only with you."

And that's the truth.

There are versions of myself no one else gets. The softer one. The needier one. The one who wants to stay right here and pretend love can survive on moments like this.

With anyone else, maybe I'd hold more back. With him, I never really could.

For a few seconds, I let myself stay there.

Wrapped up in him. In the warmth of his body over mine. In the quiet hum of the morning. In the version of us that only exists behind closed doors.

I let myself pretend this is enough.

That the way he looks at me now matters more than the way he won't later. That his hands on my waist mean more than his silence in the hallways. That loving him like this isn't slowly hollowing me out.

Because soon, we'll pull apart. We'll fix our clothes. He'll grab his keys. I'll grab my bag. We'll slip right back into character like we always do.

I'll be the girl he tutors. He'll be the guy who barely looks at me at school.

And this soft, secret version of us will vanish the second we walk out that door.

That's the part that hurts the most.

Not that he loves me. I know he does.

It's that he loves me here. Only here.

And I hate how much of me is still willing to take that and call it enough.

---

"I honestly don't know what I'm doing anymore," Kiara says, slamming her locker shut hard enough to make the metal rattle down the whole row.

I flinch a little at the sound but keep my shoulder pressed against the locker beside hers anyway, letting the cold seep through my shirt. It grounds me. Or maybe it just gives me something else to focus on.

Kiara scrubs a hand down her face and lets out this hollow little laugh that doesn't sound like her at all. "I've got Pope on one side and JJ on the other and I swear to God, I'm losing my mind."

I glance over at her. "That's dramatic."

"I'm being serious." She turns to face me fully now, her brows pulled together. "I know this makes me sound like a terrible person, but I don't even know if I want to be with either of them."

I shrug, trying to make it look easy, like this conversation isn't digging under my skin in ways I don't want to examine too closely. "Then don't."

She blinks. "What?"

"Don't be with either of them," I say again, a little slower this time. "You don't have to pick someone just because they're there."

Kiara stares at me like I've said something completely ridiculous. "But that's the problem," she says, pushing off the locker just enough to throw her hands up. "With Pope, it's easy. He gets me. Like, actually gets me. He knows when I'm joking, when I'm annoyed, when I need space. Everything with him just... works."

She trails off, chewing the inside of her cheek.

"And JJ?" I ask quietly.

Her whole expression changes.

It's so small I almost miss it, but it's there. Softer. More confused. More honest.

"JJ's a mess," she says, and there's this helpless little breath of a laugh in her voice. "He drives me insane. His ideas are always stupid, and somehow I still go along with them. He's reckless and loud and he never thinks anything through. Being around him is like standing too close to a fire. It's exhausting."

"But?" I say.

She looks down at the floor. "But he makes me feel alive. Like, in the worst way. In the best way too. And I hate that."

I nod slowly, even though something in my chest tightens so hard it almost hurts.

I know that feeling. I know exactly what she means.

The kind of person who wrecks your peace and becomes it at the same time.

"Maybe you need time," I say, and my voice comes out steadier than I feel. "Like, actual time. By yourself. Figure out what you want when nobody's in your face asking for something."

She doesn't answer right away.

The words just sit there between us. Heavy. Too honest.

Because I didn't just mean her. And I think some part of me knows that.

Kiara lets out a quiet breath. "That's what Sarah said too."

"Sarah?" a voice cuts in, thick with mockery. "What the hell does Sarah have to do with anything?"

My eyes close for half a second.

Of course.

"God, jog on, Topper," Kiara groans.

I straighten automatically, my back pressing flat to the locker now instead of leaning against it. Something instinctive. Defensive. Like my body knows before my mind catches up that this is about to go bad.

Then I see him.

Rafe.

My chest tightens so fast it steals my breath.

He's standing next to Topper like he belongs there, arms crossed over his chest, posture loose in that way he does when he's trying to look unaffected. His jaw is set. His expression is blank in that carefully controlled way I know too well.

And when his eyes flick to mine, there's nothing in them.

Nothing.

No warmth. No softness from this morning. No trace of the boy who kissed me breathless in his bedroom and laughed against my mouth like I was the only thing in the world worth smiling at.

Just cold. Flat. Dismissive.

Like I'm in the way. Like I shouldn't even be here.

My throat tightens.

He's pretending, I tell myself immediately. He has to be. This is the rule. This is how it works.

Still, it stings every single time.

"Shut it, Pogue," Kelce says, looking right at me.

His voice is full of that lazy kind of contempt that rich boys like him wear so easily, like cruelty's just another language they were raised speaking.

I let out a short, disbelieving scoff. "You do realize we're not even Pogues, right?"

Kelce shrugs. "Could've fooled me."

Before I can say anything else, Rafe speaks.

"Yeah," he says flatly. "Could've fooled us."

The sound of his voice hits harder than I want it to.

It's not loud. Not even especially mean by his standards. But it's careless. Distant. Like I'm nobody to him.

Topper laughs, loud and obnoxious, and the noise crawls all over my skin.

He'll fix it later, I tell myself. He always does. He'll pull me aside and lower his voice and touch my face and tell me he didn't mean it like that. He'll say he had to play along. He'll say sorry.

He always says sorry.

"Oh, really?" Kiara snaps, crossing her arms. "Why don't you three go ask daddy to donate some new uniforms? Yours looks a little tight, Top."

She gestures toward his chest, and for a second, despite everything, I almost smile.

Almost.

Topper gives her this fake amused look. "You're just jealous I won't hit."

Kiara makes a disgusted face.

And before I can stop myself, before my brain catches up with my mouth, I cut in.

"Yeah, right," I say. "Like we'd ever want your dick, Topper."

There's a beat of silence.

Kiara's eyes widen. Topper looks offended. Kelce starts laughing.

And from the corner of my eye, I see Rafe swallow.

It's subtle, but I notice it. I always notice him.

A flicker crosses his face. Tight. Sharp. Possessive in a way that sends a hot, confusing pulse through my chest even now.

If he gets jealous that easily, you'd think he'd finally do something about it. Say something. Claim me. Anything.

But of course, that's not how this goes.

Kelce tilts his head, looking between me and Rafe with sudden interest. The second the idea lands, I can practically see it happen.

"Oh," he says slowly, grinning. "She doesn't want Topper's."

My stomach drops.

"Kelce," Rafe says, low and warning.

But it's too late. And he doesn't sound angry enough. He sounds irritated, like this is inconvenient, not cruel.

Kelce ignores him completely. "No, no, I get it now. She'd want yours."

Topper barks out a laugh. "Jesus Christ."

Heat rushes up my neck so fast I feel dizzy.

"Shut up," I say, and I hate how thin my voice sounds.

Kelce's eyes narrow. "The way you stare at him? It's honestly embarrassing."

I don't. I don't stare.

Except maybe I do. Maybe sometimes I look too long in the hallways because even if he won't look back, I can't help checking anyway. Maybe I look for him in every room without meaning to. Maybe loving someone in secret teaches your body stupid habits before your head can stop them.

"I don't," I say, but the words come out smaller than I want.

Kelce grins wider, sensing weakness like guys like him always do. "You're a fucking stalker."

I look at Rafe then. Really look at him.

His jaw twitches. That tell. That tiny movement he gets when he's holding something back.

Hope sparks in my chest so suddenly it almost hurts.

Say something. Please. Just once, pick me.

Kelce glances at him, still smirking. "Isn't that right, Rafe?"

Rafe exhales slowly, eyes still on me. Too slowly.

For one stupid second, I think maybe he's not going to do it. Maybe he's going to tell them to shut the hell up. Maybe he's finally reached a line he won't cross.

Then his expression shifts.

Not much. Just enough.

That cold little curl at the edge of his mouth. That mean, detached look he slips into when he wants everyone around him to know he doesn't care.

"She would," he says.

Everything in me goes still.

Topper lets out this shocked laugh, like even he didn't think Rafe would go there.

And then Rafe does what he always does when he feels cornered. He pushes harder. Meaner. Crueler. Like if he's going down, he'll drag the whole room with him.

His lip curls.

"I'd have her screaming too."

The world drops out from under me.

For a second, I can't hear anything properly.

My heart slams so hard it climbs into my throat. Heat floods my face. My palms go slick. There's this awful ringing in my ears, like my body's trying to shut the whole moment out before it can settle in.

We had never talked like that. Not once.

Not as a joke. Not in front of other people. Not ever.

He'd touched me like I was precious. He'd kissed me like I was something worth being careful with. He'd held my face in both hands and looked at me like he didn't know what to do with how much he felt.

And now he's standing there talking about me like I'm a body. Like I'm a punchline. Like I'm something he can throw to his friends and laugh about after.

I could take the teasing. I could even survive the silence.

But this?

This feels like betrayal.

Real betrayal. The kind that doesn't just hurt. The kind that rearranges something inside you.

"Go fuck yourself, Rafe," I snap.

My voice cuts through the hallway sharper than I expect, loud enough that a few people nearby turn to look.

I don't care.

"Don't you have practice?"

For the first time, something breaks across his face.

It happens fast, but I catch it. Uncertainty. Regret, maybe. Something shaken loose behind his eyes like he only just realized how far he took it.

And God, I hate that some pathetic part of me still recognizes that face. Still knows him well enough to see the exact second the mask slips.

But he doesn't say anything.

He doesn't come after me. He doesn't tell Kelce to shut up. He doesn't fix it.

He just stands there.

And then Topper claps Kelce on the shoulder, laughing, and the moment is gone. They turn like it's nothing. Like they didn't just crack something open in the middle of the hallway and leave it bleeding.

They walk away loose and easy, all smug confidence and stupid laughter.

Rafe goes with them.

He doesn't look back.

I stand there shaking. My fists are clenched so tight my nails bite into my palms. My heart is still racing so hard it makes me feel sick. I stare at the floor because if I look up, I might cry, and there is no way in hell I'm crying here.

Beside me, Kiara mutters, "Douche."

I don't answer. I can't.

Because for the first time since being with him, I'm not standing here telling myself he didn't mean it.

I'm standing here wondering what it means that he did.

And the worst part, the part I don't want to look at too closely, is that I still love him.

I love him even now, with my face burning and my chest aching and humiliation sitting so heavy inside me I can barely breathe around it.

I love him enough to know exactly why he said it. Because Topper was watching. Because Kelce was pushing. Because Rafe would rather light something good on fire than let anyone see how much it matters to him.

I know him. I know the ugly, broken logic of him. I know that when he feels trapped, he gets mean. When he feels exposed, he makes sure someone else bleeds first.

And maybe that should make me hate him.

Maybe it would be easier if I did.

But all it really does is make me feel sick, because I know beneath all that cruelty, beneath the performance and the ego and the fear, he is still the same boy who looked at me this morning like I was the only soft thing he had left.

That is what makes this unbearable.

Not that I don't know who he is. It's that I do.

masterlist

summary: One party at TannyHill changes reader's perspective on Rafe Cameron - it also changes her life. For better or for worse is the question.

pairing: fem!kook!reader x Rafe Cameron

✧ indicates mildly suggestive | ✦ indicates extreme NSFW | incomplete

part one ✧

part two ✧

part three ✧

part four ✦

part five ✦

part six

part seven

part eight ✦

part nine ✦

part ten ✦

part eleven ✦

part twelve ✦

part thirteen

part fourteen

part fifteen ✦

part sixteen

part seventeen

part eighteen

part nineteen

part twenty

toxic!dark!rafe cameron x female!pogue!reader

summary: you are just living your life, completely normal and free. but, what happens when rafe cameron decides that you are his? he's danger.

warnings: smut! 18+ stalking, manipulation, rafe is obsessed with reader, fingering, swearing, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink, praise, oral (male receiving), dark!rafe cameron, choking, jealousy, violence, heavy smut..

a/n: i'm delighted I'm finally starting this, even if it took me so long. i genuinely hope you all enjoy this series. i understand that this a bit short, but the narrative is only getting started, so things will only get wilder! however, it is to be expected—this is a rafe cameron fic.

series

One thing that you hated about Outer Banks was how the heat still radiated at night, causing excessive amounts of water to be drank and a great amount of fans that blew hot air into your face.

It only made everyone irritable and only caused more arguments like now,

"I swear to god JJ, I am about to fucking murder you if you say another word," You hissed, giving him a glare as he mockingly grew scared.

"I agree," Cleo said before falling back into her nap.

"All I'm saying is that we have been moping around here for hours meanwhile we could be partying on the fresh beach and cool water," JJ replied, using his hands to represent the scenery to all of you.

"I'm going to have to agree with Y/N," Pope said, turning his head to JJ, "I'm already in tough shit with my parents for when you knocked over my great-grandmothers vase," Pope glared.

JJ put his hands up in defense, "I told you tequila makes me clumsy,"

"Besides every single Kook is there, including Rafe and if he sees Sarah with us, it will only bring another fight and you are not going back to jail," Kie warned, still closing her eyes while the fan blew the air in her face, blowing her hair.

"When have we ever been scared of Rafe?" JJ asked.

"When he gave me a full smackdown for doing my job," Pope scoffed.

"And when he almost drowned me," Sarah chimed in from across the room where she was laying on John B's legs on the carpet floor.

meeting the fam

drew starkey x latina actress reader!

the parents

Drew’s parents were in Charleston for the weekend, visiting him at the set of the show for the last few shooting days before wrapping season one.

They had kindly invited you all out to dinner to finally meet Drew’s friends.

He was so excited you were finally meeting part of his family.

Everyone who knew Drew knew how much he loved and cared for them.

So getting to finally meet them was exciting and nerve wracking at the same time.

Madelyn, Chase, Rudy, Madison, JD, Austin and you had finally arrived at the restaurant, where Drew and his parents were already waiting for you all in a table near the back of the place.

A little Italian restaurant in downtown Charleston.

Was there a more perfect place than that?

The moment his parents saw you all approaching, they stood up embracing you all in tight hugs and lovely greetings, Drew standing on the side smiling widely.

You walked to his mom as you offered her a big smile.

“Hi, I’m…” you said looking at her excitedly.

She made a happy high pitch sound as she looked at you, pulling you in for a hug.

“You must be y/n!” she said giving you the biggest bear hug. “Oh my God, you’re so much beautiful in person” she said as she pulled back to look at you with bright eyes.

You blushed at her comment.

“You’re too nice…” you paused with a smile, not sure if you should address her by her name or if that would be too impersonal.

She smiles as she gives your arms a little warm squeeze.

“You can call me Jodi dear” she smiles at you as she hugs you one more time before letting you go.

You move on to greet his dad, Todd, introducing yourself as well, making little small talk as you all settle yourselves on the table ready to order.

The night goes on smoothly, filled with laughs and anecdotes of baby Drew, courtesy of his lovely parents.

You were all having too much fun hearing his embarrassing baby stories and juicy teenage drama.

As the dinner went on with chatter, pasta and wine, you couldn’t help but smile at how happy and at ease Drew looked around his parents.

It made your heart warm.

Before you all left after having spent a wonderful night together, you approached his parents to wish them a good night.

“It was lovely meeting you two” you say smiling up at them. “I had so much fun, and now I know where Drew got his sense of humor”.

Todd laughs at your comment as Jodi hugs you.

“It was so nice meeting you too dear” she says as she leans back smiling at you. “We hope you can visit us back home soon, you’re welcome anytime” she looks at you and then at the rest of your friends. “You’re all welcome”.

You blush at her words, feeling their love and affection.

“Thank you so much” you say smiling at her. “You’re more than welcome at home back in Mexico whenever you want” you smile sweetly at them as you eye Drew smirking from behind them.

Jodi hugs you one last time before letting you go.

“We might take you up on that offer” she says laughing looking at Todd.

Everyone bids their goodbyes before Drew approaches you as you all walk out of the restaurant.

“Your parents are amazing” You say as you give him a smile.

She shrugs cockily as he looks at you.

“What can I say?” He says smirking at you. “They did raise a pretty cool kid”.

You laugh at him as you hit him playfully.

“A pretty humble one” you say sarcastically with a smile.

He laughs softly, throwing his head back and looking at you again.

“They really loved you” he says, looking attentively at you. “All of you” he lets out, his gaze never leaving yours.

You blush at his words.

The night had gone as perfect as you’d imagined.

the siblings

This was not how you imagined your morning starting.

The night before had been quite successful, if you could call it that.

Madelyn and Drew had invited you all over to their place, for a typical drinking night at their place.

So you all had gathered there to drink and chat, as usual.

But things might have gone a bit overboard than usual.

You had a few free days from filming, so you all took that and rolled with it, not caring about anything besides having fun all together.

And that’s how, that morning, you woke up with a headache and no phone at your place.

You had no idea how you had gotten to your apartment and tucked yourself in bed. You tried to remember but your mind was hazy and blurry.

And as you tried to find your phone, it was nowhere to be seen.

That’s how you ended up going down in the elevator to Maddie’s and Drew’s floor.

You prayed your phone was somewhere in their place, cause if not, you’d be cooked.

On your way down, you cringed as you caught the reflection of yourself in the elevator mirror. This was not your best look.

Your hair was messy tied in a low bun, and you were wearing a big oversized t-shirt with the obx logo, and underneath, some very small sleeping shorts that were invisible under your big tee and sleepers.

Yeah, you were not beating the hungover allegations.

As the doors of the elevator opened, you walked to their apartment as you knocked on their door.

You closed your eyes as your head throbbed a little, you just wanted to find your phone, and go back up to your place to drink a gallon of water and maybe take some aspirin.

And then you thought, where they still hungover and asleep? You hadn’t even taken a second to wonder that maybe you would be waking them up.

In all honesty, you didn’t even know what time it was.

But just then, you heard footsteps coming from inside the apartment and the door being opened.

Revealing a man with an unknown but familiar face at the same time.

Were you at the wrong floor?

This was too much for you and your brain in this state.

You squinted your eyes a little as you looked at the man in front of you. You looked from him to the apartment number, wondering if you had messed up. As you opened your mouth to speak his eyes narrowed as he looked at you.

“Can I help…” his eyes went from squinting to surprised. “You’re y/n!” he said smiling at you, looking happy and surprised. “I’m Logan, Drew’s brother.

You blink while looking at him.

He was Drew’s brother.

Now you remember. He had said his siblings were coming to stay with him for a few days to spend the break with him.

Oh dear God. You had totally forgotten.

And now you were standing in the door, in front one of his siblings, in pijamas and hungover.

Worst first impression ever.

“Oh my god, hi!” You say, accidentally sounding a bit too excited than you intended. “It’s so nice to meet you” you smile, clearing your throat, feeling too embarrassed to think of something else to say.

He laughs softly at you, and before you can say anything else, another voice from behind echoes.

“Logan, who’s that?” A girl with brow hair pops up from behind him while looking at you.

You wished the earth could swallow you whole.

“Hi, I’m y/n” you say smiling anxiously at her.

Your appearance definitely was not giving you any confidence at the moment.

“Oh my God” she says smiling at you while shoving his brother aside. “You’re the y/n!” she says excitedly while approaching you. “I’ve been wanting to meet you for so long” she finishes as she pulls you for a hug. “I’m Brooke”.

The only thing you could do was return the hug while laughing nervously.

“Come in, we’re making breakfast” Logan says as he invites you in, closing the door behind you.

You really didn’t wanna be there in that moment.

Like, it was lovely meeting them, they seemed like the sweetest persons ever, but, you were feeling sticky, nauseous and embarrassed that they had to meet you like this.

Just your luck.

“Oh thank you so much, but…” you were interrupted as a girl with blonde hair walked out the kitchen.

She paused her steps looking at you.

“Mackayla, you’re not gonna believe this, she’s y/n!” Brooke said to her sister, as she side hugged you.

You smile at her softly while waving at her.

Her eyes brighten while she smiles at you.

“Oh my God!” she says excitedly. “Drew didn’t tell us you were coming, we would’ve cooked something better than pancakes” she smiles at you.

God how you wished you could’ve showered before coming down.

“No, please don’t worry!” you say a little too fast, looking at them, causing them to eye you with a confused look. “I really don’t wanna interrupt your breakfast” you say smiling at them embarrassed.

This was the worst situation ever.

Or that’s what you thought.

Because as you finished talking, Drew came walking down the hall, shirtless, with only some sleeping shorts and a towel on his hand while he dried his hair.

“What are you guys bickering about?” he says walking to his siblings before he stops and notices you.

You look at him while giving him an awkward smile.

His eyes open a bit too much in surprise.

“Hi” you mumble out sheepishly. “I just came by to see if I had left my phone here” you say blushing a little at the attention. “Cannot find it anywhere” you say moving your hands, showing them how they’re empty.

God you were being pathetic.

Was this how animals at the zoo felt?

“Uh yeah yeah” he blinks at you. “I was gonna bring it up to you later” he says walking to the couch, picking it up and handing it to you.

You take it from him while sighing in relief.

“Thank you so much” you say as you hug your phone dramatically. “I was panicking” you say laughing while looking at his siblings.

They all looked between you and Drew smiling.

You cleared your throat.

“I should get going now” you say smiling softly at them. “It was really nice meeting you” you say, feeling way embarrassed as each second passed.

Mackayla shaked her head looking at you.

“Please stay, we’d love for you to join us!” she says smiling at you hopeful.

“I really don’t wanna impose” you say giving them a sheepish smile, before Brooke shrugs and shakes her head.

“None of that! Maddie will join us too” she smiles at you.

Drew lets out a chuckle.

“If she wakes up” he says laughing softly.

In that moment, Maddie walks out of her room towards the bathroom, stopping herself to give Drew a humorless look.

“I am wake” she says before hiding herself in the bathroom.

You all burst into soft laughter before you can feel all their eyes on you once again.

Your cheeks heat in embarrassment.

“Give me 5 minutes to shower and I’ll be down with a brand new box of cookies from home I have in my place” you say giving them a smile.

They all laugh while you’re already walking out the door.

“Deal!” Logan laughs as they all see the door close behind you.

You run up to you place, chugging an aspirin and getting into the shower to get yourself looking decent and to try and fix your first impression on Drew’s siblings.

Down at his place, they’re finishing setting the table and cooking breakfast.

“She’s cute” Mackayla says as she gives Drew a look.

He laughs softly under his breath looking at her suspiciously.

“Yeah, she can pull that hangover look, not everyone can, it’s hard” Logan lets out before Drew smacks him playfully in the head.

He groans while his sisters laugh at him.

“She seems funny too” Brooke says walking to them. “That’s a good quality to have you know” she lets out while looking at Drew.

He rolls his eyes at his siblings comments, trying to act nonchalant.

“Don’t be weird around her” he lets out, smiling at the memory of you at his apartment in your disheveled look.

How were you able to make the best impressions even having just woken up?

*

omggg I loved writing this request! thank you so much for sending it and liking my work, hope you love it<3

sorry for taking a bit to post it, I have been feeling a little off my game

please feel free to send in asks and requests if you wanna know anything about latina actress reader!

all i can think about is boxer!rafe with his cute clumsy gf??

𐙚˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆｡ ˚

rafe being a boxer did not help your situation as an unnaturally clumsy person.

you're always on the brink of failing down, head face first into concrete, or something even worse. you feel like an idiot every single day as you try to get through obstacles that face your everyday life.

going up the stairs? yes, you have fallen going up the stairs.

going down the stairs? check that off the list too. that was done a hot minute ago. it's all a blur to you, but when you and rafe first got into a relationship it was alarming the amount of bruises you got.

it was strange to be with someone so coordinated as him, as if every single on his moves was strategic. you had watched him box and every move deliberate. power and strength oozed off of him, and you wondered what you even offered in the relationship. after all he was the one taking care of you.

he could tell when you were about to fall - his hand stuck out to catch you, he could tell when you were going to trip, hands reaching for your shoulders. you would always give him a cute smile afterwards, and a welcoming kiss.

but there were other times when you felt worse about it, crying to him about how incompetent you were, "can't do it, rafe. i'm so, so clumsy," and you could tell that he was fighting the urge to laugh as you pouted.

"nah. i like it," he would mutter, before gently smudging your lipstick with his finger as he tilted down to give you a peck, "keeps me on my toes."

and yet there were times when being clumsy did not help at all.

you were snuggled to his side, smelling his hoodie in deeply before sighing. the movie was playing in the background as he held you close to his chest, as a soft humming escaped your lips. it was a moment you knew you would always remember, and you raised your arms to stretch.

little to your knowledge the sleeves of your shirt went down to uncover a litter of blue and green bruises. they looked fairly recent but still were blossoming on your skin. unbeknownst to you, rafe's eyes quickly traveled to your arms.

"hey? you good?" he sputtered out, and you gave him a smitten nod, burrowing deeper into his chest. rafe looked even more concerned, readjusting - which forced you to get up as a short whine left your mouth.

he tugged at your sweatshirt, "what the hell was that?"

you furrowed your eyebrows, "what the hell was what? you have to be more specific rafe-" you hated this, and even though you didn't know what he was talking about there was this inkling of fear that stuck into your heart.

rafe let out a grunt, before pulling away down your sleeves again, and then he pointed at the bruises, "these? who hurt you?"

dumbfounded you stared at your arms, and then looked at rafe - his eyes practically bugging out of their sockets, jaw clenched as if a vein was about to burst and you couldn't help but start giggling.

"hey. hey, focus," a hand reached for your jaw as you stared into his steely eyes. suddenly you saw another side of him, the rafe that everyone talked about. the one that could knock out a guy with one punch, the one that came home with bloody knuckles and a chewed mouth guard. and yet it was the same rafe that slept in your bed comfortably and whispered your name gently as if he wanted to etch it on his heart.

that rafe.

you had zoned out again before you noticed his furious expression, and then an unpleasant smile that crossed on his face. it looked as if he was trying to feign being calm, and you felt tears prick your eyes.

"rafe-"

"no crying. c'mon baby, just give me a name."

now you were chuckling through tears, and he gave him an incredulous look.

finally he pecked your lips, his words oddly sweet, "listen. i've always told you i'm gonna protect you right. it's jeff isn't it-" his words came out sharp, and you knew exactly who he was talking about - your boss at the restaurant you worked at who complained about your inability to do anything right.

but that was definitely not it.

"rafe!" you finally sputtered, "rafe it's me."

finally he stopped, his mouth gaping open, "what do you mean it's you sweets?"

you huffed, looking down at your arms, "i'm so darn clumsy that i have bruises everywhere. i always check before i go to bed, yk' to check how many i have."

rafe's concern quickly shifted to a mix of frustration and worry as he examined the bruises on your arms, letting soft clucks. he let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair before turning to you with a furrowed brow.

"sweetheart, you have to be more careful," he said, his tone tinged with annoyance but softened by genuine concern, and then he finally tugged you in closer as you started to protest.

"we'll talk about this later. maybe you'll start boxing, huh? you'll be my little champ."

nice!rafe x reader college au

when rafe cameron finally takes an interest in you, you think its just another one of his one night stands

warnings - smut, swearing, partying and drinking

get comfy, grab a snack, because baby its longgger. i spent all day on this :) (hahaha ha ha h a) anyways, i wanted a nice, possibly even goofy rafe instead of him being batshit crazy all the time. so please forgive the personality change, we'll be back to our regularly scheduled programs soon.

when rafe cameron entered the room, everyone swooned. the football star of unc chapel hill, the hottest guy on campus, the flirt. everyone would gladly drop to their knees for him, except you.

it was like something was wrong with you. because you absolutely did not understand what everyone was always going on about over him.

sure, he was tall and handsome. he was good at football. but he seemed like a complete jerk.

you were a sophomore at unc, rafe was a junior. you’d become very familiar with the horror stories of being around and getting with rafe cameron.

he fucks girls then leaves them on read, picks fights for no reason, drinks way too much, and has a god awful ego.

you just did not get it.

at the party, in some worn out, dirty frat, you stood with your friends in a corner, people watching and giggling.

it had been a fun night so far, meeting new people and having a few too many shots.

but when rafe cameron and his friends walked into the room, everyone’s attention was on him.

you saw him, and wanted to scream ‘boooo’. rolling your eyes, you walked away from your enchanted friends towards the makeshift bar.

a drunk frat brother poured you another drink as your phone dinged. you went to check it, and when you looked back up, there he was, in all his materialistic glory.

“hey angel.” rafe lifted the corner of his lip, handing you the cup the brother just filled.

“thank you.” you smiled for only a second, hopefully fast enough he didn’t even see it, then started to walk away.

“hey, wait!” rafe called behind you, useless. you took a guess that tonight, it was your turn to be the special girl in rafe cameron’s life. you didn’t want that title.

your friends stared in bewilderment as rafe cameron stalks behind you, and pulls on your arm ever so gently to get you to turn around.

“what’s your name?” he asks, his face blank of any little smirk he had before.

“depends on who’s asking.” you shrug, taking a small sip of the juice from your cup. it was strong.

“me.” he clarified, a look on his face telling you should have already known that.

“oh. then, no.” you give him a sweet smile. he scoffs, shaking his head.

“and if it’s for my homeboy over there?” his long finger sticks out and points towards one of his friends, one you’d seen on campus before, but couldn’t put a name to his face.

“oh, if it’s for him, get him to come over here and i’ll tell him myself.”

“what’s your problem with me?” rafe’s face scrunched up, crossing his arms over his chest.

“i don’t have a problem, im just not interested.” you give him one last sickly sweet smile, before returning to the group of friends, patiently waiting to interrogate you.

it had only been a few days since your’s and rafe’s interaction. you hadn’t thought about it much, after getting home to your apartment and debriefing your friends, it had slipped out of your mind completely.

that was, until, you saw him walk into the coffee shop you were studying at.

immediately, you ducked your head, hoping not to get spotted.

he went up to the counter and ordered, fiddling with a straw in his hands, back turned to you.

you thought maybe he had missed you, so with a sigh of relief, you went back to your schoolwork.

“hi, angel.” you cringed at the voice. looking up, there he was.

he was wearing a bandana, tied around his head, some old carhart jacket. he had good style, you’ll give him that.

“oh, hey.” you tried your best to not sound so sincere.

“how’ve you been?” he asked, inviting himself to take a seat across from you.

“great. how about you?” his smile lit up his face, thinking he was finally getting somewhere with you.

he went to answer, when you cut him off, “i’m so sorry, i don’t know your name?” it came out more of a question, a dare.

his smile faltered for a second, and you took that as a win, before he stuck his hand out in between you two.

“i’m rafe cameron.” despite protests, you took his hand in yours to shake it, ignoring how much of a difference in size there was.

he raised his eyebrows, “your turn.”

“still not interested. lovely to see you, though.” you let go of his hand, putting your focus back into your schoolwork.

he scoffed, stood over you for a second, appearing to be looking at something on the table in front of you.

he chuckled, low, then bent down a bit. “i’ll see you later, yn.”

he picked up his coffee and walked out the door without a second glance. alarm bells were going off in your head. how could he possibly know your name?

you grabbed your cup to take a sip, and realization hit you like a brick. on the side of the plastic, your name was written in simple black sharpie.

recently, practice hadn’t been fun. especially since rafe realized the football team practices right next to the women’s soccer team. and also, since rafe found out you were on the women’s soccer team.

he’d made every effort to get your attention, calling your name and throwing footballs towards the soccer pitch, more or less annoying you. your teammates would squeal and giggle, and you groaned.

coach called practice, and as you were packing up your gear and getting ready to make the trek back to your locker rooms, you heard the distinctive voice from behind you.

“angel, how was practice?” you turned, seeing rafe, sweaty and red.

you probably looked the same at him. you’d been running on and off for two and a half hours today, you probably did not look your best. rafe would have disagreed.

“fine, thanks.” you wiped your face with a towel, taking your cleats off and finding your shoes.

“you know, when your face is all red like that, it makes me wonder what you look like when you’re getting f-” you hit rafe on the chest with the back of your hand.

“you’re appalling. does that line ever work on anyone?” you were completely disgusted by him right now, even if the thought did draw a little curiosity from you.

“sometimes. let me take you out on a date.” un phased, rafe cameron persists.

“why would i ever say yes after the comment you just made?” you laugh in his face, earning a shit eating grin from him.

“give me one chance. i don’t know what you think about me, but give me a chance to prove im not whatever it is.”

“no.”

“please, angel.” the way his voice upped an octave erupted thoughts, lot and lots of thoughts.

so, you’d finally give him a little bait to chew on for a while. “i'll think about it.”

with that, you left him standing by the benches. you rolled your eyes at the boy, but couldn’t help but smile.

three hours later you had a follow and dm from rafe cameron.

rafecam: have you thought about our date yet?

yourusername: no, not really

rafecam: come on angel

rafecam: one date is all i’m asking

yourusername: that’s all it’ll be since you’ll ghost me afterwards! it’s perfect!

rafecam: ohhh so that’s what you think

yourusername: the answer is no

rafecam: i’m not taking that for an answer

rafecam: it’s yes or yes

rafecam: i’ll be the perfect gentleman

rafecam: im the man of your dreams come onnnn

yourusername: you’re funny

rafecam: so does tuesday night sound good?

read

yourusername started following you!

deciding on something nice, but not too nice, you took your hair out of the rollers and sighed.

it’s your date with rafe tonight. you were feeling a lot of emotions.

you’d gone through rafe’s instagram the night he dmed you, had followed him back. there was even some 'get to know you' conversations somewhere in between.

pictures of his parents and sisters, his friends, pictures of them on a beach, all smiling. no pictures of him out at a party, or arms slung around girls. there was an image to maintain, though. the quarterback at unc, with forty thousand followers, of course he wasn’t going to post that.

you rolled your eyes and jumped up to show your roommate the black silk dress you were wearing for the dinner date at the fancy restaurant in town. anna was funny, bowing down in front of you like you were some god.

the doorbell to the apartment rang and your eyebrows furrowed. you thought, ‘no way he’d find a way to get up here, no way he’d find your apartment, no way he’d willingly come up here and ring my doorbell’.

but there he was, on the other side of the door, holding a small bouquet of your favorite flowers. your jaw almost dropped.

he was dressed nicely, a smile painted on his tanned features.

“how did you know where i live. and how do you know about the flowers?” you invited him in, giving him a undoubtedly suspicious look.

“don’t worry, angel. i have my ways,” he smirked, looking at your roommate. “hey anna.”

“oh, okay. got it. got it, thanks anna.” you shake your head, grinning as you put your head in your hands.

“we’ll put these in water then head out, yea?” rafe grabbed the scissors while you grabbed a vase to fill up with water, moving in perfect harmony.

the dinner went well, surprising you. he was a gentleman, like he had promised.

and as much as you hated yourself for it, you swooned, just like that.

his smile, and his jokes, and the lack of inappropriate ones. you thought maybe the bar was on the floor, right now you didn’t care. you could only thing about maybe, you could have been wrong about him.

he’d walked you back up to your apartment on the second floor, carrying his jacket and your heels over his shoulder as you walked together.

when you got to your door, it was unlocked, thank goodness, because you forgot your keys.

“these are yours. angel, i had a really good time. promise you’ll text me in the morning?” rafe asked as he held out your heels, a true, genuine look in his eye signaling he meant it.

you shrugged, love drunk, and pulled his arm so he fell inside with you. “we’ll see.”

he dropped the jacket and heels on one hump on the floor, grabbing around your waist and pulling you in.

the kiss was so desperate and rushed, but still gentle. one of his arms wrapped around your waist as you clung to his neck.

pulling apart, you grabbed his chin and lifted it upwards, placing light kisses on his neck, then sucking. his hands grabbed at your hips.

“you look so good. holy fuck, angel.” he returned the favor, kissing down your neck and shoulder, playing with the strap of your dress with his teeth.

you pulled him towards your room, and at first, he didn’t hesitate.

he faltered once you got to your door, pulling back from you.

“angel, i’ve wanted to fuck you since the moment i saw you, but i want to do this right.”

you were taken aback, not believing the words that were coming out of rafe cameron's mouth. you almost thought he was kidding, letting out a anxious chuckle, met with a confused stare.

"did you just say no to sex?" you questioned. he nodded, looking just as surprised by himself as you were.

he doesn't fucking like me, you thought. how could you be so stupid? of course, of course rafe cameron doesn't want you the same way you want him. do it right? what does that even mean?

and there it was, surprising you again, because since when did you want rafe? have feelings for rafe?

"okay, um well, goodnight, then." you tried, tucking your hair behind your ears and grabbing your heels from the ground.

"okay. goodnight, angel." he took a step forward to try and kiss you, but you crossed your arms over your chest and shook your head.

he faltered, heart shooting out of his chest. the one time he tries to treat a girl right, and he's fucked that up, too. he grabbed his jacket, stood up straight, gave you one last look and closed the door behind him.

rafe: good morning

rafe: do u maybe want to get coffee with me

rafe: or i could get it and bring it to u

read

rafe: helllllloooooo

read

rafe: angel what's goin on

rafe: text me back yn

read

it had been three days since you spoke to rafe. it'd been three weeks since you met him, officially. your emotions had been twisted, confusing. he’d been gone for an away football game. he stopped texting you after that.

you watched the game with your roommate anna, rafe throwing pick after pick, completely off his game. you sighed, hoping that the small flame inside trying to convince you you're the reason he keeps messing up is wrong.

the game ended, they won by one point. the team cheered on the field as number forty six walked off the field, helmet in hand and head hung low.

rafe: can you please talk to me

rafe: i would take you telling me you hate me over this

you: can you come over?

rafe: be there in ten

he was there in seven minutes, actually. looks of hesitation painting his features when you opened the door for him.

"you've been okay? you didn't text me back on wednesday."

"yea, we should talk about that." you nodded. his face slumped, he looked defeated.

"what? what is it, angel?" he took a step towards you.

"listen, i really only said yes to that date so you'd leave me alone," rafe felt a little bit liked he'd been punched. "but that entire date i felt so good, and i was honestly just fine with having one night with you and never speaking to you again. but then you said you didn't want to and whatever you meant by that, i'm not sure, but it, like, threw me off." you rambled, arms crossed over your chest in defense.

"i wasn't gonna have sex with you if it meant i never talked to you again." his blue eyes hidden under thick lashes, unable for you to get a good read on them.

"but rafe, thats like all you're known f-" your hands went up in defeat as you tried to finish your statement.

"was, it was. i wish you'd just talk to me instead, angel. but this-" he waves a finger between you two- "is different. i don't know if its because you give me shit every time i try to flirt with you or that you're just unlike anyone i've ever met, i don't fucking know. but id rather give this an actual try than pretend i could treat you like you didn't mean something more."

speechless, thats what you were. taking two steps forward and pulling him in. he tasted like mint gum, smelled like wood and vanilla. his lips parted, letting you familiarize yourself with his mouth.

he pulled back, "go on another date with me?" you laughed, then nodded, then pulled him back into you.

he pulled back again, "be my girlfriend?"

"you're pushing it, rafe." giving him a peck on the lips.

"well, just using my logic, here. if you're my girlfriend, then that means were giving it a try and we can fuck all we want." he shrugged, a hand finding its way under your t-shirt and onto your hip.

"you sound insane. ask me again later." you whispered into him, pulling him into your room, this time he didn't budge. rafe cameron, in your small, student housing bedroom, pulling your shirt off.

he kissed your neck, bit at the spots he'd sucked, picking you up and rolling onto the bed with you, earning a laugh from you.

you grabbed the hem of his shirt and tugged it up, rafe helping you out. your hands found their way to his upper arms, he closed his eyes and flexed under your touch, almost unconsciously.

"you look so pretty, angel. always do." he whispered, leaned down to kiss you again. he pulled your thin, loungewear bra to the side, let out a quiet groan, and kissed.

and he would have done anything to hear that small moan from you for the first time again. your hand reaches up to grab his hair as one nipple is in his mouth, the other being rubbed between his fingertips.

"angel, you want this as bad as i do?" he looked up at you, watched you nod, and smiled, kissing down to your naval.

lifting your lips, he slid the shorts off you, then his sweatpants next.

he lined himself up, pushing into you slowly, memorizing the sound of your gasps and moans. surely, this is what heaven felt like. sounded like. "holy fuck."

two strong arms landed on each side of your head as he slid in and out of you.

his words came out all incoherent, with a lot of 'please', 'angel', and 'pretty''s thrown in there.

this wasn't the kind of sex you'd have with rafe, you thought it would be more rough, not sweet and caring.

your eyes closed, his hand flying to your face, gripping your chin. "open your eyes, pretty girl. i wanna see you. wanna see whats mine." you let out a moan, clenching around him, too deep in pleasure to care that rafe knew you liked that.

"say it." rafe moaned, his pace fastening, a steady hand still on your face.

"im yours, rafe." he pulled you up as you gasped for the millionth time. now, riding him, your face was an inch above his, his features looked perfect under the sunlight.

"are you mine?" you got out, in between moans.

"since the first time i ever laid eyes on you. all yours, angel."

Older bf Rafe who always coos at you from above while drilling into you.

Older bf Rafe who when you ask to do coke with him, will be hesitant and say no the first few times before cracking and letting you try it.

Older bf Rafe who laughs when you call him "old man"

Older bf Rafe who doesn't like you hanging out with Sarah when he's not around. He doesn't want you to talk to Pogues.

Older bf Rafe who will drag you away if he sees you talking to JJ or John B.

Older bf Rafe who calls you "baby"

Older bf Rafe who takes you golfing with him so he can show off subtly.

Older bf Rafe who takes his anger out on you. (In a sexy way)

Older bf Rafe who always asks "are you ok with this?" And if you just nod he says "words baby"