#obx4

“kie and pope are working, think john b’s out with sarah.” he says. “why? you okay?” his eyes soften and you notice his look of concern.

“yeah,” you smile, “everything’s fine, just need to uh- talk to you.” you had no idea how you were gonna go through with this without making it incredibly awkward. you already felt sick to your stomach at the thought of him rejecting you and never seeing you the same way after this.

jj nods and stubs out his joint. he stands up and opens the screen door, motioning for you to enter first.

“after you.”

you smile and step inside, but you soon begin to feel ill at the fact that you were really going to ask him this. you wanted this to happen, but you were terribly nervous.

you lead him to his room and close the door behind you. he sits on the edge of the bed and you follow, sitting crisss cross, facing him.

“you sure everything’s fine?” he asks, obviously questioning the fact that you wanted to speak to him in his room, and that you were silent.

“i told you about that guy i’ve been talking to for a few weeks, yeah?” you start, not wanting to make eye contact with the boy.

“yeah.” he nods.

you try not to pick at the skin of your fingernails.

“okay, well, he asked me out.” you say. “the date’s tomorrow.”

he furrows his eyebrows in question, noticing that you sounded kind of disappointed about something that was supposed to be good.

“well that’s a good thing, right?” he scoffed. “i mean, i cant remember the last time you went on a date.”

“shut up.” you nudge him. “yeah, it’s a good thing… i like him- i think.”

“alright, well, that’s all you wanted to tell me?” he asks. “you don’t need dating advice right? because i can’t help you in that department.”

you fight a smile at his remark and shake your head no.

“okay, here’s the thing.” you sigh before you force out your next words, absolutely dreading his reaction. “i don’t know if he’ll wanna sleep with me eventually, and, well he’s kind of experienced with girls and all that, and i’m kind of…. not.” you cringe at your choice of words, already regretting coming to jj out of embarrassment. you glance at him momentarily and he seems to be studying you, waiting for you to keep talking. “what i mean is, like-“ you sighed. you knew you sounded like a complete idiot, but you didn’t want to back out now.

“you know i’m a virgin, right?” you didn’t even want to look at him after the words came out of your mouth.

he smiled a little.

“i, uh, i figured.” he scratched the back of his head awkwardly and cleared his throat.

“don’t be a dick.” you shove him once again and he chuckles, which allows you to lighten up just slightly. “i’m saying that i don’t know what i’m doing - y’know, with guys and all that. i don’t want to embarrass myself in front of him.”

“so you want… sex advice? from me?” he asks, raising his eyebrows with suspicion.

you nervously bite the inside of your cheek and your face grows hot.

“well, i thought maybe a little more hands on.” you said before you could even stop yourself. you knew you had to just come out and say it or you would’ve backed out and nothing would ever come of this situation. you searched his face for a reaction.

he looked confused, but he didn’t seem whole heartedly against the idea. the silence between you both was becoming awkward and you felt the need to explain yourself, hopefully making the situation sound less like you were coming on to him and more like a friend just asking for help.

“i mean like, because you’re a guy and all, you would know what guys like best, i guess?” you said, as you watched him cross his arms over his chest and lean against the headboard of the bed. “and i was thinking about the fact that i’m going on a date for the first time since freshman year and now there’s a very high chance that i’ll sleep with him in the coming weeks, and it just- i don’t know, the idea of losing my virginity to someone i’ve known for a month didn’t really sound good to me.” you we’re rambling at this point to try and defend your case. “i would rather do it with someone i know, and trust.”

“you want me to take your virginity?” he asked, blatantly. “that’s what you came here for?”

you nod, probably chewing a hole into your cheek now.

“if it’s too weird for you, you don’t have to do it at all, it’s okay.” you said. “you were just the only person i felt like i could ask without it being awkward.”

“no, no,” his expression softens and he shakes his head, pulling his arms from his chest and taking his back off the headboard. “i’ll do it.”

“really?” your eyes light up because you expected this to go far south.

“yeah, no big deal.” he shrugs, even though in his head he knew it was a huge deal. he was going to be your first time and if he screwed it up, there was no telling what would happen between you two. “but, this won’t change anything between us right?” he asked. “like i just don’t want it to be awkward afterwards.”

“i swear.” you said, although you didn’t entirely know if that was the truth. “you’re just helping me out, right?”

“alright.” he responds. “you, uh, you wanna do this now or..?” he clears his throat again, visibly getting nervous, but your fears seemed to be disappearing now that you knew he wasn’t against the idea.

“the sooner, the better.” you said.

jj gets up from the bed and flips the lock on the door on the off chance someone were to come home.

“just a warning though,” you start, “i’ll definitely be really bad at this compared to the other girls you’ve been with.”

“that’s all right, you gotta learn somewhere.” he says, walking back to you and stopping right in front of where you were sitting on the bed. your heart started to race as the reality of what you were about to do started setting in. he sits down next to you and you could smell salt water and weed on his skin. “i’m gonna start with kissing you, is that okay?” you searches your face for confirmation and you nod, giving him the okay. “and you’ll tell me if i’m taking things too fast or if you wanna stop, right?”

you giggle a little at his attention to the matter.

“yes jj.”

you see a very slight smile appear on his lips before he slowly leaned in and connected them with yours. he tasted like weed but in the most perfect way as he skillfully moved his lips in sync with yours. his tongue softly swiped your bottom lip at the same time his hands found their way to the sides of your face and he held you there gently. you took him touching you as a sign to occupy your own hands with his body as you brought your hands around his back, feeling his bare skin.

his kisses started leading down your chin, and further down onto your neck where he connected his lips with your skin. you shivered at the new feeling of someone kissing your neck as he went lower still, reaching your collarbone. he pulled away and tugged at the him of your shirt, asking for more access to your body and he helped you out of the fabric.

“you doin okay?” he asks.

“totally fine.”

he connects his lips to your collar again as he carefully lays you down onto your back. he fights the urge not to leave any hickeys on you, knowing you had a date tomorrow.

you scoot your body up until you’re in the middle of the bed so that he can easily get on top of you. he continues kissing your body, getting lower and lower and with each passing second, you could feel yourself getting hotter and your arousal getting stronger. his mouth reached the waistband of your jean shorts and he looked up your for permission to take them off. you nodded and he unbuttoned them before sliding them down your legs and tossing them somewhere on the floor.

jj kissed the curve of your hipbone and you mindlessly rolled your core up towards his mouth, to which you could feel him smirk against your skin at your neediness.

“i’ll get there princess.” he said against the space under your bellybutton. you practically lost your breath at his words and your cheeks flushed out of embarrassment.

he continued kissing you even lower, placing his lips over clothed core and hooking a finger underneath the hem of your bikini bottoms.

“can i take these off?” he asked.

“please.” you nod, almost sounding too desperate.

he pulls your bottoms down your legs, leaving you exposed to him. the first time anyone had seen you like this, and you were thankful it was jj and not some random boy who didn’t know the first thing about you.

“you still alright?”

“jj,” you giggle. “i’ll tell you if somethings wrong, okay?”

“just being courteous.” he joked.

he brought his hand to your now bare core and used his thumb to swipe a line from your entrance up to your clit, making you whine from just one touch. he spreads your wetness around your clit, his pants growing tighter at the sight of your arousal. as he rubs painfully slow circles, he searches your face for signs of enjoyment, but your eyes were shut tight and your lips were parted, quiet whimpers leaving your mouth.

“just relax, okay?” he said, to which you nod eagerly. you were totally not relaxed at all. in fact you were amped on adrenaline from the way he kissed you.

and then before you could register what was happening, you felt something new touching you. you opened your eyes and looked down at jj’s face in between your thighs, seeing his tongue swirling over your clit. it felt better than any time you had ever touched yourself. his eyes met yours for a second and you wondered why you never asked him to do this any sooner even though you pictured him going down on you many times before

your hands found their way to his blonde locks, your fingers tangling into his hair as you threw your head back on the pillow.

“oh my god, jj” you moaned, to which he picked up the pace a little. he gripped your thighs firmly, holding them apart, occasionally rubbing circles into your skin with his thumbs to relax you.

his lips wrapped around your clit and he sucked, making you jolt your hips up in pleasure at the new sensation. your legs were trembling under his grip and jj didn’t think he could get any harder, but he was, in fact, getting harder by the minute.

“jj,” you moaned his name, “please don’t stop!” you were pulling his hair tighter, trying not to be too loud in case anyone were to come home, but it was impossible to keep your mouth shut with the way he was eating your pussy. “feels so good” you cried.

your hips were rocking back and forth, rolling in the same rhythm as his tongue, practically riding his face. he knew you were close based on the fact that your moans were getting closer together and your legs were shaking harder. he suddenly switched the direction of his tongue, now going side to side and occasionally sucking on your clit, swallowing your juices.

your back was arched off the bed, your hands flying to the sheets for something to hold on to as your high approached in small waves. you moved one hand to cover your mouth, trying to stifle your moans, but jj immediately reached up to your arm and pulled it from your face, not stopping his movements.

“need to hear you cum” he said against your clit before harshly sucking on it.

“fuck” you moaned, his words alone almost leading you over the edge.

he snuck two fingers into your entrance and slowly moved them against the sweet spot inside you. the mixture of his mouth expertly lapping at your clit and his fingers pushing into you had you coming undone.

“fuck- don’t stop- please- don’t st-“ you couldn’t even get the last words out as you felt yourself completely lose control. you didn’t know how loud you were moaning because all of your senses had faltered as the tidal wave of ecstasy crashed over you.

he kept licking until you had fully ridden out your orgasm, and even then, he continued, his grip still tight on your legs as they trembled. you pushed his head away from the overstimulation and then lay limp, your chest rising and falling as you came down, your eyes still closed.

“need a second?” he asked, mockingly, his hands running up your torso and to your still covered breasts. he felt your nipples harden under your bikini top and he desperately wanted to get you out of it.

you wrap your arms around his back and pull him on top of you, connecting your lips with his again. he immediately kisses you back and reaches behind you to undo your top, which quickly comes off and jj’s eyes land on your breasts. he takes them both in his hands and leans over you to suck your nipple, making you shiver.

you occupy your own hands with his belt, fumbling with the clasp until it’s undone and pulling it through the loops.

he pulls himself away from your tits and starts undoing the zipper before his eyes meet yours.

“you sure you’re okay with this?” he asks.

“i wouldn’t be fully naked in front of you right now if i wasn’t.” you joke.

he gets up from the bed to take his shorts off and look around the room, presumably for a condom.

“john b’s gotta have some around here, hold on.” he says, opening up the top drawer of the dresser and rummaging through the pairs of socks and underwear.

“you don’t have to, jay.” you say, but he doesn’t listen, still looking inside the dresser for any small, silver packages. “i’m on birth control.”

he turns around cocks his head at you.

“what?” you question. “makes my periods lighter.” you shrug.

“i’m still pulling out though.” he says before he walks back to the edge of the bed and slides his boxers off, revealing his achingly hard cock. you visibly got nervous at his length, swallowing the saliva in your mouth. jj notices the redness in your face and gets into the bed, pushing hair out of your face with his fingers. “i’ll stop if it’s too much, just tell me.” you nod, anxiously and he positions himself on top of you, stroking his cock a few times before you feel his tip at your entrance. his eyes meet yours for confirmation and you give him a nod.

his cock slowly pushes into you, not even an inch as he doesn’t want to hurt you. you shut your eyes hard, preparing for it to hurt, but you feel barely any pain. he kisses your neck and pushes himself in a little farther.

“this feel okay?” he asks against your skin.

“feels good, j.” your hands find their way to his back again.

once he bottoms out, you feel a slight pressure at your cervix before he slowly starts moving, giving you time to adjust to the feeling.

you hear jj moan in your ear from the painfully slow strokes he was taking, trying to keep himself from going too fast for you. his cock rubbed against your g-spot and you kiss the area in between his collar and neck.

“i’m okay jj.” you reassure him. “faster, please.”

he picks up the pace and continues kissing your neck. your nails dig into the skin of his back.

“you feel so good” he moans. “doin’ so good for me- fuck.” he didn’t even realize what he was saying, but you enjoyed the hell out of it. his praises added to the pleasure of him inside you.

he was going fast enough now that you could hear your skin hitting against each others as your hips connected. every thrust was stroking your sweet spot and you were pretty sure you were leaving scratches on his back, but jj felt too good to even notice.

he leaned back a little so that all his weight was on his knees and his back was straight as he grabbed one of your legs for support and used his other hand to rub your clit at the same time he was fucking you. the double stimulation illicited a loud moan from you that encouraged jj to keep going, almost nearing his end.

his thrusts were getting sloppier and his breathing was heavier but he wanted to make you finish before him. your chest heaved, feeling the new sensation of him filling you up at the same time as his fingers worked on your clit. the pressure was building up and you knew you were close. you suddenly pulled him against you so that your chests were pressed against each others.

“fuck- jj” you moaned. “m’so close.”

his heavy breathing sounded like heaven to you as he started to fuck you even harder, his cock sliding perfectly in and out of you.

“sweetheart” he moaned into your neck. “m’not gonna last much longer.”

almost immediately after he said those words, you felt the band in your stomach snap as you came around his cock, squeezing and pulling him deeper inside you. you cried out his name as he fucked you through your second orgasm.

“fuck, baby-“ he pulled out of you and stroked his cock that was slick with your wetness. you watched his face contort in pleasure, his eyes barely open and his lips parted, his eyebrows furrowed. his cum shot onto your stomach and tits.

he tried not to stare too long at the mess he made of you, realizing almost as soon as he finished that this was a one time thing he may never get you like this again.

he got out of the bed and grabbed a shirt of the floor, which he cleaned you up with and tossed it.

“you okay?” he asked again.

you rolled your eyes.

“how many times are you gonna ask that?” you scoffed. “i liked it, j. don’t know how my date’s gonna top that.” you joked.

then, jj remembered that this was all practice for you to go and have sex with another guy and he suddenly felt sick. he pulled his boxers back on and picked up your articles of clothing from the floor and tossed them to you.

the truth is, you didn’t even want to go on that date anymore. not after the way jj took care of you.

“hey, jj!” a voice, john b’s, ripped through the chateau and both of your eyes widened, looking at each other with panic. “you home?”

you swiftly put your bottoms and shorts back on in under 30 seconds and shrugged yourself into your flimsy shirt while jj was putting his belt back on. you quickly exited john b’s room before he could see where you both came from and you nervously greeted him in the living room to see that sarah and kie were home as well.

“heyy, jb.” jj said, awkwardly.

“what have you two been doing all day?” john b asks.

kiara walked over to the kitchen to grab a beer and when she turned around, she noticed the marks on jj’s back. she paused in her steps.

“jj, what’s with all the scratches on your ba-“ and then she realized. her face contorted in disgust. “ewwww, are you guys fucking serious?”

your face grows hot with embarrassment and you wanted to dig a whole to die in, but john b seems barely faced as he walked past you, saying something near you.

“at least you made that boy’s dreams come true.”



Rafe was tuning up some stuff on his dirt bike, dressed in all black. you sat on the sand next to him, just admiring him as he worked.

it was rare for him to wear all black, and the look was driving you insane.

“you gonna keep starin’ at me?” Rafe teases softly.

“mhm.” you hummed, grinning.

the announcer came on to say there was about five minutes til the race so everyone should head over to the start.

“hand me my helmet, would ya?” Rafe asks.

you stand up, wiping the sand from your denim skirt and grab his black helmet. you hand him it, feeling his large hand come down to help wipe some of the sand off your ass.

“there you go,” he coos.

“good luck, baby.” you murmur, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

he just mumbles a soft thank you, slipping on his helmet as he starts the bike’s engine, switches gears, and takes off over to the starting line.

➽───────────────────❥

the race had been going smoothly. Rafe was in first the entire time…

until JJ Maybank decided to jump the river bank, landing in front of Rafe.

you watched anxiously, cheering on for your longterm boyfriend. but when Rafe’s front wheel collided with JJ’s back wheel, the two guys crashed and were flung off their bikes.

the rest of the racers zoom by, causing Topper to win.

“oh, shit.” you curse under your breath, running over to where Rafe was on the floor.

“are you okay?” you ask, trying to help him up. he shrugs you off of him, too clouded by anger.

he storms over to where John B and Sarah are with you hot on his tail.

“get used to it.” Rafe grumbles, causing John B to look at him.

“what’d you say?” John B asks, clearly frustrated. when Rafe doesn’t respond, he shoves him.

“what’d you say?!” John B repeats, louder this time as Rafe shoves him back.

“get used to it! get used to it, alright? this is forever, ya’ll don’t get to win!” Rafe yells as Sarah steps in between her brother and husband.

“you could have killed each other!” Sarah scolds.

“Rafe, c’mon, please.” you ask pleadingly, tugging on his arm.

yet again, he shrugs you off. due to the sand being uneven, the small movement was enough to cause you to fall on your ass.

but Rafe didn’t notice, or, didn’t seem to care as he continued to shoot insults at Sarah.

you were now pissed as you stood back up, and then it seemed like your boyfriend remembered you were together.

he tried to wrap his arm around your shoulders for support, still aching and hurt from the crash.

you just shrugged him off, storming away.

“y/n!” Rafe calls after you.

➽───────────────────❥

he somehow managed to apologize and charm his way back into your pants the day after the race.

but when you and Rafe walked into Topper’s little celebration party at one of the villas, Topper embraced Rafe into a hug, clearly drunk from the intense game of beer pong.

“you see him? his dad shot and killed Sheriff Peterkin.” some girl mutters to her boyfriend.

unfortunately, Rafe overheard.

“leave it—“ you started, but he was already going over to the girl, who was now backing up against the wall.

“what’d you say?” he asks, the girl’s boyfriend pushing Rafe back.

“go away, Rafe.” the boyfriend grumbles, but Rafe doesn’t back down.

“no, no, if you have something to say, say it to my face.” Rafe slaps his cheek for emphasis, but Topper and you move to pull him back.

“hey, relax, okay?” you tried to say, watching him grab a bottle of alcohol and start drinking it.

“just— just get the fuck off of me right now.” Rafe says coldly, obviously pissed off about the situation.

you grit your teeth, a pit forming in your stomach as you bit back a response. but you obliged, walking away from him.

➽───────────────────❥

yet again, he managed to apologize and charm his way back into your pants, reassuring you that he’s just going through a lot of stress about the deal with Hollis.

but the final breaking point was when your father had came to you about pushing Rafe towards his teetering decision about becoming Hollis’ partner.

you immediately said no, not wanting to go behind your boyfriend’s back. so when you drove over to the yacht club Rafe was at, you found him sipping on a margarita with Topper and Ruthie.

“what about your girlfriend?” Ruthie asks, making you stop in your tracks.

it was wrong to listen in on his conversation, but a part of you wanted to hear what he had to say about you.

“who, y/n?” Rafe asks, making Ruthie nod.

“she’s not my girlfriend… we’re just hookin’ up, ya’know?” Rafe murmurs, drinking more of his margarita.

a pain started to form where your heart was, a deep frown on your face as he spoke.

“i thought she moved in.” Topper furrows his brows.

“she’s not going to move in… i would never live with a pogue, i have standards.” he explains, making Ruthie and Topper laugh.

that was your breaking point, the point where you were ready to throw the past 19 months away.

because clearly if he couldn’t even respect you to his friends, he doesn’t respect you at all.

you turned on your heel, trying to leave when you accidentally knocked into a server, causing a glass to fall down.

you swore under your breath, ducking out and leaving. but unfortunately, your boyfriend is tall, and he was able to see your head.

“awe, shit.” he cursed quietly, drinking the rest of his beverage before walking away.

“y/n! y/n.” Rafe calls out, jogging to catch up to you.

“no, Rafe! i’m fucking done!” you yell, storming to your house that was only a few blocks away.

Rafe runs in front of you, grabbing your hips to stop you from moving. “the hell you mean done?”

“are you dense? we’re over.” you snap, trying to pull out of his grip.

he clenched his jaw, laughing bitterly.

“i don’t know what you think you heard, but-“

“i don’t think anything. i know you just basically said you could never take me seriously as a girlfriend since i’m a pogue.” you cut him off, lip trembling as you wipe away a tear rolling down your cheek.

“i didn’t mean it like that, baby.” Rafe coos, just trying to charm his way back.

“no, stop. it’s not going to fucking work, Rafe. i’m serious… we’re done.”

“no, we’re not.” Rafe says, his voice dangerously low.

“yes, we are,” you spit.

Rafe roughly grabs you, pushing you into the back of his car. once you’re inside, he moves on top of you, grabbing your throat with his hand.

“you think you can just leave me?” he laughs piercingly, his face barely a few inches from yours.

you didn’t respond, causing him to squeeze your neck. “i fucking hate you.”

“no, you don’t.” Rafe murmurs, unbuttoning your shorts, pushing them down your thighs.

“stop, Rafe-“

“no, you’re going to fucking listen to me!” Rafe yells, forcing you to stare up at him.

“nobody leaves me, you understand?” he asks, his voice breathy and dark.

chills ran down your spine, your eyes wide in fear as your body trembled.

“you fuckin’ understand?” Rafe reiterates, barely slapping your clothed cunt.

“y-yes,” you whimper.

“good girl. now, ‘m gonna fuck this pussy because ‘s mine, yeah?” Rafe says, not really asking.

all you do is nod in response, hating how your clit is throbbing with need.

“you’re lucky i’m not gonna make you suck my cock right now… just wanna remind my girl that she will always be my girl.”

he’s rambling as he shoves his shorts down just enough for his dick to sprang free. he’s always been well endowed, with an 8.5 inch cock, a pretty pink tip, and two prominent veins you always loved to lick on.

“wearin’ these fucking panties… you wanted this, huh? wanted to come and try and make a fool outta me?” Rafe grumbles, pulling the pink lace to the side to reveal your drenched cunt.

you shake your head, tears forming in your eyes from the situation. you were hurt, angry, and fucking horny.

Rafe wastes no time in sliding his cock into your hungry hole, his hand tightening around your throat.

“mhmm, my girl ‘s always so hungry for me. look at this slutty hole suckin’ me in,” he purrs.

he pushes his hips until your clit is pressed against his pelvis, a few tears rolling down your cheeks with your lip in a pout.

“that’s a good girl… fuckin’ cry for me.” Rafe grunts, starting to piston his hips as he fucks you in the backseat of his car.

your hands gripped the shoulder of the passenger seat and the headrest of the back, pretty eyes fluttering shut as your cunt clenched around him.

“yeah… look at you clenching f’me… so needy for this dick.” Rafe coos, forcing you to look at him.

“open your mouth.”

you don’t oblige at first, too overwhelmed in pleasure and the fact that you’re getting fucked by the same man who just talked shit about you.

he uses his fingers to open your jaw, spitting in your mouth. “when i tell you to do somethin’, you fucking do it. swallow.”

you swallow his spit, pussy fluttering around his relentless cock.

“good girl.”

“Rafe— fuck…” you pant.

the car shook as he pounded into your soaping cunt, his balls slapping against your ass.

“tell me who this slutty pussy belongs to.”

“y-you, Rafe… my slutty pussy belongs to you.” you trembled, hand gripping his forearm as he continued to apply pressure to your neck.

“you understandin’ that you can never leave me? that you’ll always be Rafe Cameron’s whore?” he coos, his eyes dark, voice low.

you nod, body shaking as your breathing grows heavier.

“that’s what i thought… all you needed was a good fuckin’ and you’re all well behaved n shit.”

his mean words were turning you on more unfortunately, your belly tightening with each rough thrust.

but when he took his hand off of your neck, beginning to toy with your aching clit.

“look at this clit… all swollen n throbbing f’me. fuck, you’re such a needy whore.” Rafe grunts, his cock twitching inside of you.

all you could do was nod, dizzy and lightheaded from pleasure.

“is my girl gonna cum f’me?” he coos tauntingly, the pad of his thumb flicking teasingly on your hard nub.

“p-please… please, Rafey…”

he moans at the nickname, losing his composure for a second as his balls clench, trying to hold off his orgasm until you explode on him.

“come on, baby. cum on this dick.”

at his approval, you let the coil in your stomach snap. you whimper loudly, clinging onto anything you can reach as your body trembles beneath him.

your orgasm triggers Rafe’s, pussy walls fluttering around him so deliciously he has no choice but to cum inside you.

“take this cum… take my fucking seed.” he groans, hips stuttering as he fills you to the brim.

you pant, vision blurry and suddenly needy for water when you begin to come back down from cloud nine.

you pulled him down into a soft, tender kiss, panting into each-other’s mouths.

Rafe leaned forward, grabbing a half empty water bottle from the cupholder you had left there as he unscrews the cap, holding the hole to your mouth.

“drink,” he murmured.

you happily complied, the water soothing your throat.

“good girl,” he hums in approval.

you couldn’t help but clench around him at the praise, and Rafe’s head fell slightly at the feeling, a proud smirk tugging on his lips.

Cheering quickly transitioned into worry as JJ easily overtook Rafe in the dirt bike race. You didn’t want to doubt your boyfriend but for a moment it seemed as though he wasn’t going to win— and then he didn’t.

“Shit!” you screamed, as Rafe’s poor attempt of bumping the Pogue’s bike caused them both to come crashing down. It took everything out of you not to run over to him before the race was over.

“Oh my god, are you okay,” you asked, helping your boyfriend from the sand as the crowd ran over to Topper.

As much as you wanted to scold him for endangering himself and someone else, you held your composure.

Rafe was seething, but anything was better than JJ or John B winning the Enduro.

Before driving him home, Rafe and his sister Sarah had a squabble with him accusing her of killing their father. It wasn’t your place to interrupt but you looked at Sarah with apologetic eyes, dragging your boyfriend away before he said anything more hurtful.

“I don’t fucking care,” he mumbled, still seething from losing the race and the incident with Sarah.

“Oh I know you don’t, but how can you say that to your own sister? You know she’s grieving too right? How can you accuse her of killing your father?” He didn’t answer, the grip he had on your thigh getting more painful as you approached Tannyhill.

The door was barely closed before your boyfriend pushed you up against it, his hand around your neck.

“I’ve had a shitty day seeing those fucking Pogues and losing that race, and I don’t need your lecturing making it any worse. I’m gonna take you right here, right now.”

Unable to get a word in, he smashed his lips against yours, his hands going to your ass and squeezing. While you wanted to discuss what happened further, there was no way he’d allow that before he let his anger out. Not that you were complaining.

“Fuck, you’re soaked,” he uttered, his hand swirling your clit with the other hand still around your neck, “you love seeing me all worked up.”

“Maybe a little bit.”

He found the sweet spot on your neck as his skilled fingers swirled your clit, rubbing rough circles and sending jolts of pleasure throughout your body. A gasp escaped your lips as he slipped two fingers inside your pussy, giving you no time to adjust.

“Please,” you moaned, not even sure what you were begging for but his fingers felt too good inside you. The look on his face was almost enough to make you cum. The buzz cut, the dazed, lustful look in his eye as he released your neck from his kisses and stared at you.

“I can feel you just clenching around my fingers, so fucking close, cum for me slut,” he demanded. His thrusts sped up and his thumb rubbed circles on your clit, causing you to release all over his hand.

“That’s a good fucking slut, now, my turn.” He forced you to your knees, stripped himself and you of your clothes leaving you both bare. His cock was painfully hard in front of you, thick with the head glistening.

He tapped your mouth, you already knew what was about to happen. Rafe groaned as he shoved his cock down your throat, bucking his hips and shuddering, savoring how good your mouth felt around him.

“Gonna fuck your throat okay? If you want me to stop, don’t hesitate to tap my thigh.” You looked up at him and nodded, naked on your knees with his cock filling your mouth.

He held your hair in his hands, snapping his hips forward and fucking your throat. Your nails dug into his thighs, trying not to gag and focusing on the feeling of him so deep in your throat.

“God, look at you, on your knees just taking whatever I give you,” he moaned at the sight below him.

Humming around his cock, you used more tongue, swirling it around the head as he pulled out all the way and slammed into the back of your throat.

“I love it when you moan around my cock like a little whore,” he chuckled in between moans.

You could feel how close he was getting as his brutal thrusts sped up and his cock throbbed in your mouth. “Get ready, open up that fucking throat, get ready to swallow every drop of my cum, bitch,” he moaned.

You did as you were told and continue suckling on his dick, his pace faltering as his cum shot down your throat.

“Fucking hell, good girl, that’s my baby,” he breathed, slowly thrusting to make sure you swallowed every drop.

He lifted you up and you wrapped your legs around him, your lips meeting in a sloppy kiss as he tasted the remnants of himself on your tongue.

You opened your eyes as Rafe threw you unto his bed, his cock still hard and ready for your dripping pussy. His eyes were locked on yours as he slowly inched inside you and for a moment you thought you were about to have sweet, loving sex.

“Daddy,” you gasped, feeling him snap harshly against you, his cock practically kissing your cervix. Sweet, loving sex was clearly not in the works.

“Fucking take it,” he whispered, sending shivers throughout your body. His pace was brutal and the headboard knocked against the wall continuously as he fucked you hard.

“Mm, daddy, feels so good,” you cried, his cock going in and out of you roughly, making you see stars and you hadn’t even cum yet. Rafe wrapped his hand around your neck, and used the other to pinch your nipples, making you feel even more ripples of pleasure.

“Fucking cum all over daddy’s cock, now,” he demanded. His lips captured yours as you shuddered under him, your climax overtaking your body, but he didn’t stop. He continued fucking you hard through your climax, your tits bouncing, your body and the bed moving upwards, roughly.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, so fucking hot when you cum for me. Now get on all fours.”

The loss of his cock inside you made you whine, but you did as you were told, going on your hands and knees, arching your back just the way he liked it. “What an obedient slut, good girl,” he cooed.

Rafe pressed your face into the bed as his rough thrusts began, this angle making him feel even deeper inside your pussy.

“Fuck,” he moaned, the sound going straight to your pussy. You absolutely loved when he was vocal.

“Mhm, yeah,” you moaned, as he slapped your ass and dug his nails into your hips, slamming you hard against his cock. He pulled you back by your neck, your back arching off his body, his pace never faltering. “Rub your clit for me baby.” You obeyed, rubbing your clit as he fucked you from behind, moaning in your ear.

“Daddy, gonna cum,” you managed to croak out. This made him speed up his thrusts and he rolled his hips, continuously hitting the sweet spot inside you as you lost yourself on his thick cock.

“Good girl, that’s it, feels good doesn’t it? I know it does baby, I know,” he cooed, “but daddy isn’t done with you yet.”

Your body fell limp on the bed and he lifted your hips, pressing you into the bed as he chased his own orgasm. You screamed, the pleasure almost too much having cum three times already.

“You can take it baby, be a good girl and take what I give you.”

You nodded frantically, rubbing circles on your needy clit as his thrusts got harder and sloppier, the sound of skin slapping echoing throughout the room. With a loud moan, you squirted on his cock, surprising you both and making Rafe spurt his cum inside you almost immediately. He continued fucking you through both your highs as your legs shook and you began seeing stars.

He collapsed on the bed beside you and you snuggled into him, your body aching from the treatment he gave you a minute prior. You lay in silence, only the sounds of your heavy breathing filling the room.

“You’re my winner, Rafe.”

He smiled and kissed your forehead. You always knew what to say to make him feel better.

Honestly, the idea of peeling yourself out of bed and into the heat just to watch overgrown boys play with horsepower didn’t thrill you. Yet by mid-morning, Kiara had shown up at your door honking her horn like a madwoman, and Sarah wasn’t too far behind. Before you knew it, you were shoved in the backseat of the Twinkie, the smell of sunscreen, spilled soda, and JJ's lingering weed filling the car as the windows stayed down, blasting music as the coastline blurred past.

And so here you were, standing off to the side, arms crossed over your chest, trying to act interested as Sarah excitedly pointed out one stunt after another. Dirt bikes shot off ramps like they had wings, tires skidding across loose gravel, riders pulling off reckless backflips and tail whips just to earn a few more cheers, as well as few more bets in their favor. Still, your eyes kept scanning the crowd of competitors. Your jaw tensed every time you caught a glimpse of blonde hair under a helmet.

Every time a voice in your head asked, Is that him? You hated that you were doing this, searching for him. Rafe Cameron had no business being here, but of course that’s what made it so likely. That boy never met a bad idea he didn’t like, and danger? He wore it like a badge of honor. You used to find that magnetic. Now, it just made your stomach twist. You told yourself you were over it. That you were done playing the one he came crawling to when everything else blew up in his face.

Yet, there you stood, heart betraying you in the quiet ways it always had with him. Because no matter how hard you tried to act unaffected, part of you still wondered if he’d show up. If he’d look for you in the crowd like you were always looking for him. And worse, if he’d still expect you to be waiting. Because if there was one thing Rafe Cameron knew how to do, it was running to you when he had nowhere else to go. So instead of looking for him among the crowd, you tuned into Pope’s voice, as he spit out statistics and predictions that barely masked your restlessness.

He was mid-sentence, rattling off about ratios and tire grip percentages like a man possessed, while Cleo crouched low by JJ’s bike, her hands moving with practiced precision. She was focused, wiping grime off the throttle, double-checking bolts, making sure the motorcycle wouldn’t betray JJ mid-race. You envied that clarity, knowing exactly what needed fixing and how to do it. You wished your heart worked the same way. Then it happened, almost as if he knew you had just stopped searching for him.

The sharp, cocky growl of an engine sliced through the air. You didn’t even have to look. You felt him before you saw him. Rafe’s bike was louder than it needed to be, all polished chrome and empty bravado, and when he rolled to a stop a few feet away, the tension in the air shifted. Like gravity decided to pull toward him instead of the earth. Topper, as usual was right there at his side, already sneering in JJ and John B’s direction.

Rafe didn’t say anything, but he didn’t need to. His helmet was off, tucked under one arm, and his eyes were locked on you, stormy, unreadable, and furious. You scoffed under your breath before you could stop yourself. A sharp, involuntary sound that was equal parts amusement and exhaustion. Of course he would show up like this. Of course he’d find a way to remind you he was always watching. And JJ noticed. In an instant, he was by your side, arm slinging around your shoulders with that boyish ease that only he could pull off without effort.

He gave you a half-hug that you reciprocated, his touch grounding you in that moment. "You won't be mad if I beat your boyfriend, right, Y/N?" He asked, that trademark grin playing on his lips. You rolled your eyes, but smiled despite yourself. His timing was impeccable. "I'm not his keeper, so go ahead, JJ." The words came with a sigh, a little more tired than you intended. But it was the truth. Because you weren’t. You weren’t Rafe’s anything. Not officially. Not out loud. But that didn’t mean it didn’t feel like something.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught the sharp turn of Rafe’s head. He was staring at the way JJ’s arm rested around your shoulder like it belonged there. His jaw clenched, knuckles whitening around the helmet in his grip. If looks could kill, JJ would’ve been six feet under. And still, he said nothing. He never said anything. Just played his games, ran hot one night and frigid the next. Made you feel like the center of his universe, then vanished into silence like none of it ever happened. You were tired of wondering if the fire in his eyes meant love, hate, or something in between.

You missed the look Kiara and Sarah shared beside you, one of knowing sympathy. Instead, you focused on the stack of bracelets on your wrist, fingers tugging one higher up your arm as if rearranging them could settle the ache building in your chest. If Rafe Cameron wanted to pretend he didn’t care, then fine. You could play that game too. But you couldn’t deny it, no matter how much space you tried to put between your heart and his, you still felt that same sharp pull every time he was near.

The question was: how much longer could you pretend it didn’t matter?

With one last reassuring squeeze to your shoulder, JJ peeled away, his usual swagger in full effect as he made his way toward the makeshift starting line. He slipped seamlessly into the scene, nodding at John B who stood beside him, his designated backup. The two of them huddled around JJ’s bike, doing final checks while the other racers began rolling their machines into position. The air had shifted. Thicker now, electric with anticipation.

The countdown hadn’t even begun and already your nerves felt like frayed wires sparking under your skin. Your gaze moved instinctively, searching again despite yourself and caught on Rafe. He was standing by his bike, the picture of smug confidence. He looked good. That was the worst part. Too good. The kind of effortless good that pissed you off because he didn’t even have to try. But what cut deeper was the way he moved, purposeful, sharp, stalking toward John B like their rivalry hadn’t cooled one bit. You watched as he gestured with his chin toward you, chest puffed like a warning shot.

You couldn’t hear what he said, but the smug scoff that followed said enough. Then, like nothing happened, he turned away. No glance back. No smirk. No flicker of anything in his eyes as he marched back to his bike and secured his helmet, sealing himself off from the world. From you. Just like always, he pushed, then pulled away. Said nothing, but expected you to read between the silences. You told yourself you were done falling for that routine, but your chest still ached like he had sucker-punched the air out of your lungs without even touching you.

“Yo, JJ, did you build that yourself from a kit?” Topper’s voice tore through the moment like nails on a chalkboard, loud, mocking, and as insufferable as ever. You visibly cringed at the sound. God, how you hated him. JJ didn’t skip a beat. He flashed a grin over his shoulder. “It’s not about the bike, bro. You’ll see.” You watched him mount his bike like he belonged there, like every piece of him was aligned with the machine beneath him. Still, your eyes drifted again, betraying you again.

Rafe, now sat rigid and ready, fingers gripping the handlebars, jaw set tight under the visor of his helmet. His posture was stiff, like he was fighting something. Maybe nerves. Maybe rage. Or maybe, just maybe, the sight of JJ with his arm around you was still echoing in his mind like gunfire. You secretly hoped that was the reason. That way he could get a taste of what you felt every time he was surrounded by women, flirting shamelessly as if you weren’t in the same room and felt the way you did about him. You leaned toward Cleo, dropping your voice low.

“What are the odds that asshole has a mechanical issue?” You asked motioning over towards Topper. Cleo’s eyes sparkled as she bit back a laugh. “Wishful hoping,” She muttered back making you smile. It was a joke. Mostly. It’s safe to say you never wish for anything harder. The starting flags rose in the air. Engines revved. The race was seconds away, and so was the potential fallout. Because no matter how fast they rode, you knew someone’s pride wasn’t making it out of this clean. “Alright guys, listen up!”

A voice called, muffled slightly by the noise of revving engines and the crowd’s restless energy. You looked up to see the woman in charge, stepping up onto a dented cooler like it was her podium. “Race is to the old buoy and back!” She shouted, voice clear now that the engines had quieted slightly. “Other than that, no rules!” That was the part that made your stomach twist. No rules meant no mercy. Not when it came to egos like Rafe Cameron’s. He was the kind of person who didn’t see boundaries, only opportunities to push harder, to hurt more.

And something in his body language told you this wasn’t just about winning the race. This was about making a point. The competitors lined up, front tires angled toward the narrow break between dunes that led to the open beach trail. You caught sight of JJ, already straddling his bike, shoulders rolling like he was shaking off the nerves. John B was by his smacking JJ’s back for luck. The woman raised her hand. The crowd buzzed louder. Your heart beat out of sync with everything around you.

“On your marks!”

The engines howled.

“Get set!”

The world held its breath.

“GO!”

The ground seemed to explode. Sand kicked up in a cloud as tires spun and rocketed forward, engines screaming with unleashed fury. The racers surged down the path, weaving past each other in a blur. All except one. JJ’s bike lurched forward with a weak cough, then sputtered. The rear tire kicked up a sad puff of sand before sinking deeper, completely stuck. The bike tilted slightly, and JJ slammed a palm against the handlebar in frustration.

The rear tire spun wildly, digging deeper into the soft sand. He leaned forward, adjusted, gunned the throttle, nothing. The machine jerked once, uselessly, then sputtered. It was stuck, buried just enough to throw off his start. Your heart plummeted. The rest of the riders tore down the beach, out front, unmistakably, Rafe had taken the lead, completely unbothered by what was happening behind him. JJ jumped off, digging his boots into the sand, yanking the handlebars with a frustrated burst of energy.

The bike rocked, tilted, but he didn’t give up. A second, maybe two, passed like an eternity. Then the rear wheel caught. He was back on in a flash. With one violent twist of the throttle, JJ surged forward, the engine finally catching traction. He disappeared into the chase, trailing behind the rest but gaining speed fast. You stood frozen, heart hammering. Pope said something behind you. Cleo moved toward the track, slow and calculating. Kiara’s hand brushed your arm, grounding you, but all you could focus on was the tightening knot in your chest.

The distant roar of engines echoed against the crashing surf as JJ disappeared into the shimmering heat haze of the beach trail, far behind the rest. But even from where you stood, you could see the determination in the way his body hunched low over the handlebars, elbows tucked, eyes locked ahead. He was pushing the bike hard, harder than most would dare on that terrain. After all he had everything to lose. By the lack of noise, you guessed that some racers had begun falling behind as sandbanks and tight curves slowed them down.

However, out front as announced by the umpires, Rafe cut through the course like a man possessed. He wasn’t just racing, he was performing. Kicking up sand with tail slides, lifting the front wheel into a controlled wheelie, twisting into sharp turns just close enough to the flags to make people gasp. Every stunt was loud. Designed to draw eyes. And it worked. Only, JJ was gaining. Little by little, the distance closed. He blew past two riders stuck behind a shallow tide pool. Skated around another who tried to block him out near the jagged driftwood stretch.

John B wasn’t far ahead, holding steady behind Topper, who rode like the bastard he was, weaving, swerving too close, flinging sand into John B’s path with every exaggerated cut of his back wheel. And then he did it. Just as JJ was narrowing in on them, Topper slowed, only to sharply cut across John B’s lane, nearly clipping his front tire. John B swerved, barely staying upright, skidding dangerously close to the rock-slick shoreline. JJ veered wide to avoid the tangle, engine snarling in protest as he charged forward.

Behind his helmet, you could practically feel the heat of JJ’s fury. The trail narrowed ahead, splitting into two lanes before leading to the inlet: a wide stretch of water, deceptively shallow in places, but tricky to navigate. Most racers slowed down, planning to take the longer arc around it. Rafe didn’t. He sped straight for the edge, lifted his front tire, and jumped, his bike slicing cleanly through the air before landing with a spray of sand on the other side. The crowd screamed, thrilled by the recklessness of it.

But JJ wasn’t backing down. He was last into the turn. Last to the edge. But instead of hesitating, he went faster, faster than he should’ve. You watched, breath caught in your throat, as he hit the lip of the dune and launched. He cleared the inlet. For a heartbeat, he was airborne and then before any of you could blink, he landed hard, suspension groaning as his wheels bit into the sand. And just like that, he was in front of Rafe. You didn’t even realize you were clenching your fists until Sarah gasped beside you, grabbing your arm.

The crowd was deafening, and yet all you could hear was the rush of blood in your ears as JJ surged ahead, heading toward the finish line. But Rafe wouldn’t have it. He was right behind him now, tucked in close, too close. The two of them thundered across the final stretch, neck and neck. You saw it happening before it happened. Rafe angled in, subtle at first, then harder. He clipped the back of JJ’s tire with the front of his own. In result, JJ’s bike bucked sideways. For a split second, it looked like he might recover. But it was too late.

Both bikes skidded.

Both riders went airborne.

The impact wasn't catastrophic, but it was violent, bodies rolling, metal skidding, sand exploding in clouds as the two of them hit the ground, limbs tangled, bikes flipping beside them. The entire crowd held its breath. You could feel your pulse in your teeth. Bottom lip caught in between your teeth so hard it drew blood. You heard Kiara gasp as JJ pushed himself up first, coughing. Rafe followed, rolling onto his back, helmet cracked at the edge. Yet the race wasn’t over. Through the cloud of chaos, one rider crossed the line.

Topper.

His smug face tore past the checkered flag as the woman waved the finish. He threw his arms in the air, howling in victory as if he hadn’t just sabotaged half the damn race. Around you, people cheered. Pope shouted something. Kiara cursed. Sarah rushed towards John B. All you could do was watch as JJ ripped off his helmet, face flushed and jaw clenched, standing in the wreckage of what should have been his moment. He didn’t look at Topper. He didn’t even look at Rafe. He just stared at the finish line like it was mocking him.

By the time you and the rest of the Pogues reached him, he’d already turned his back. John B got to him first, hand outstretched, but JJ swatted it away with a sharp shake of his head. Kiara tried next, murmuring something under her breath as she reached for his arm, but he pulled free. He was seething. You stopped short a few feet away, your shoes digging into the sand as you watched the scene unfold from the outside. Eventually, JJ walked off, shoulders rigid, leaving the others calling after him. No one followed.

You stood there, arms crossed and unsure whether to chase after him or let him cool off. You knew him well enough to know that pushing would only make it worse. Still, your chest ached with the need to do something, to say something. But the words stayed stuck in your throat, heavy and uncertain. Before you could move, a shadow passed beside you. Rafe. He walked with a slight limp, favoring his left knee as he approached, dust and blood smeared across his temple. His helmet hung loosely in one hand, forgotten.

You didn’t look at him. Not right away. Not until he stopped a few feet away, gaze heavy on you. You could feel it, like heat against your skin. Slowly, you turned, cautious and guarded, unsure what he’d come to say. His mouth opened as if to speak, but nothing came out at first. For once, the arrogant smirk was gone. Replaced with something that looked dangerously close to regret. He took a breath, voice low and strained. “Can we please talk?” You didn’t respond. You weren’t sure you could.

So he tried again. Something about the way he looked at you, lost and pleading beneath the cracks in his armor made your chest tighten. He looked vulnerable. You didn’t want to give him this moment. Not after everything. Not after how he'd handled you, or worse, how he'd handled JJ. But you hesitated. And in that hesitation, he stepped closer, his expression softening just enough to remind you that despite everything he was, he still felt something. “Just a minute, please Y/N.” He rasped, motioning off to the side.

It wasn’t a demand. It was a beg. And against every bitter impulse, you gave the smallest of nods. Only a minute. But you already knew, nothing about this was going to be simple. The weight of Rafe’s request lingered in the space between you, unsettling and hard to ignore. You hated how easily his voice slipped beneath your skin, how his presence still sparked something sharp and tangled in your chest. And yet, despite everything you followed him. Behind you, the Pogues watched in stunned silence.

Their gazes pressed into your back. You turned, just once, to look at them. Pope’s brow was furrowed, clearly fighting the urge to say something. Cleo stood with her arms crossed, a hard edge in her stance. Kiara looked like she didn’t know whether to stop you or simply trust your judgment. John B’s jaw practically dropped. And Sarah, Sarah’s eyes held something softer, understanding maybe, but it only made the knot in your throat tighten. You met their eyes hesitantly, almost shamefully.

Then, without thinking, you gave them all a half-assed thumbs up. Was it your proudest moment? Most definitely not. Was it reassurance? Hardly, you thought mentally kicking yourself. You weren’t even sure if it was for them or so that you could reassure yourself. To nobody’s super, they didn’t return it. They just watched as you turned away. Following after the one person you shouldn’t. And all you could think of in that moment was: What could possibly go wrong?

Despite everything in your body that screamed don’t do this, the ache in your gut, the guilt simmering under your skin you followed him. Rafe didn’t look back as he led you down the path, steps heavy against the old wood of the dock. The cheers and chaos of the race faded behind you, swallowed by the sound of the ocean, waves crashing against rocks like a warning you couldn’t quite decipher. The pier was nearly deserted.

Only seagulls overhead and the distant hiss of the wind weaving through rusted rails. But inside your chest, your heartbeat was deafening. Rafe stopped near the edge, dried blood at his temple. He didn’t say anything. Didn’t look at you. And that silence, it lit a spark you didn’t bother putting out. “Are you going to talk,” You snapped, voice cutting through the quiet like glass. “Or just stand there while I try to read your mind like always?” Your words hung in the air, bitter and biting.

He flinched, barely, but you caught it. His jaw tightened, muscles twitching beneath his skin as his hands clenched and unclenched at his sides like he didn’t trust them not to break something. Or maybe he didn’t trust himself not to reach for you. You waited, anger bubbling just beneath the surface. Not just at him, for the crash, for JJ, for the way he looked at you like you were his and nothing at all at the same time, but mostly at yourself, too.

For being here. For caring. For still looking at him and wanting answers when you should’ve walked away the moment he asked. Rafe exhaled sharply, jaw ticking, still not meeting your eyes. “I didn’t mean for it to go down like that.” He muttered, finally. Quiet. Almost like he hated the words as they left his mouth. You scoffed, stepping forward, heart pounding. “You purposely bumped his tire, Rafe. He could’ve gotten seriously hurt. You could’ve gotten hurt too.”

“I know,” He growled, scrubbing a hand across the back of his neck, fingers twitching near the fading bruises down his arm. “It just, happened.” You couldn’t believe the words coming out from his mouth. “That’s always your excuse, isn’t it?” Your voice broke, sharper than you intended it to. “It just happened. Like every time you flip the switch between whatever this is and pretending like I don’t exist.” He looked at you then. And for a second, you hated him for it, because he looked wrecked.

Eyes bloodshot around the edges, pain laced in the lines of his face. No smugness. No front. “You are never going to change, are you?” You whimpered, voice cracking as the weight of it all finally broke. Your throat burned as the tears you’d been holding back began to fall, hot and bitter against your cheeks. You didn’t wait for an answer. You didn’t need one. Because you already knew. “You only show up when everything around you’s falling apart. Every time I think you’re about to step up, you do the opposite,” You continued, voice wobbling but unwavering.

“You know how I feel about you. And I thought… I really thought I knew how you felt about me. Yet everything you do just makes it harder to believe any of it was real.” You shook your head, more tears falling, more rage rising. “I deserve better than this,” You declared fiercely, though the tremor in your hands betrayed you. “You act like I’m someone you need, and then treat me like I’m disposable the second things get too real. I’ve been patient, but I’m done waiting for you to figure out how to care about someone without setting them on fire first.”

You swiped your cheek roughly, trying to ground yourself, but the trembling only got worse. “I’m not your therapist. I’m not your outlet. I’m not a punching bag for when you hate the person you’ve become.” You paused, just long enough to gather the last of your strength. “I deserve something real, Rafe,” You muttered, softer now. “Or nothing at all.” You looked up at him, fully, everything laid bare in your expression. “So what is it?” You asked, voice sharp again.

“What was so important that you had to pull me aside for? Or was this just another one of your half-assed attempts to mark your territory like I’m some thing you own?” Your heart thundered as you stepped back, your final words slicing the space between you. “I’m not yours. And you’re not mine. Not like this. So either find the balls to tell me how you really feel, or leave me the hell alone once and for all.” And still, he said nothing. Not a word. Not even a breath. His silence settled over the dock like fog, thick, suffocating.

You felt it in your chest, in your spine, in the way your legs suddenly wanted to give out. You stared at him, pleading, just for something. But there was only silence. And maybe, you thought, that was the answer. Maybe it always had been. Maybe you just had been to blinded to see what was right in front of you. Making the decision for him, you turned to leave, heart pounding so hard you felt nauseous, as your feet moved on instinct, away from him, away from everything.

But his voice cut through the noise in your head, sharp and sudden. “I love you.” You froze mid-step. Those three words. So quiet. So simple. So devastatingly late. You didn’t turn around. You just stood there, eyes wide, body suspended like the breath caught in your lungs. Because those words, they were everything you’d wanted, and everything you could no longer afford to believe. “I know I’ve been absolute shit at showing you how I feel.” You could hear his footsteps now, cautious, like he didn’t know if he was walking into forgiveness or finality.

“It’s just…” He trailed off, and you could picture him, rubbing the back of his neck, biting at the inside of his cheek like he always did when his mind spiraled. “I didn’t know how else to tell you.”His breath hitched. “I thought maybe if I pissed you off enough, you’d hate me. And that would be easier.” You looked over your shoulder, not daring to meet his eyes fully. Just enough to see the shake in his stance. His fingers twitching like he didn’t know what to do with them.

His buzzed hair was damp with sweat, forehead creased in a way that looked older than he was.“You deserve the world, Y/N,” He declared, voice low and raw. “And I’m a selfish bastard. I took you for granted. Over and over again. And even while I was doing it, I knew, I knew the only thing I really wanted was you.” He ran a hand across his face, like he was trying to physically wipe the guilt away. “But I was scared. I am scared. So I did the only thing I know how to do. I hurt people. I keep people away before they can see the parts of me I can’t even stand to look at.” There was a tremble in his voice now.

“Y/N,” He whispered your name like a prayer. “I love you so fucking much it terrifies me.” Your eyes slammed shut. The tears came again, quieter this time. Slower. Your body gave the faintest shudder, as if every emotion you had tried to suppress was clawing its way back up to the surface. Behind you, he stepped closer. Only a few feet away now.“If you give me a chance,” He pleaded, softer now, “I will spend the rest of my life proving it to you. I’ll show you that you were never a placeholder. You’ve always been the thing I’ve wanted most, the only thing.”

Silence settled between you again, but this time it wasn’t empty. It was full. Full of grief. Full of longing. Full of everything neither of you had said until now. Your heart beat wildly against your ribs, and you weren’t sure if it was from heartbreak or hope. You could feel his eyes on you. The way he held his breath. Waiting. After a few seconds, not being able to stand the silence swallowing the space between you, Rafe closed the distance. His movements were hesitant, cautious, like he was afraid one wrong breath might send you running.

The waves behind you crashed louder now, as if even the ocean was holding its breath. He stepped in front of you slowly, forcing your gaze up. “Please, baby…” He whispered, voice frayed at the edges. It broke something in you. Not because of what he said, but because of how he said it. Rafe Cameron didn’t beg. But now, he stood before you, shoulders hunched, eyes glassy, desperation bleeding into every line of his face. Then he did something you never could’ve predicted. He dropped to his knees. Your breath caught. You blinked, not quite believing it.

His frame folding to the ground in front of you, pride left somewhere far behind on the dock. His hands reached up, trembling slightly, as if asking for permission before he even touched you. You didn't move. Not yet. Your heart thudded in your chest, thunderous and confused. His fingers brushed yours, featherlight. And then he took your hands in his, gently, like holding something he’d already broken once and didn’t dare risk dropping again. “I’m sorry for everything,” He choked out, head lowered, voice cracking around the apology. Tears spilled freely now, not just yours.

His too. His chest heaved with them, quiet and broken as they came. “I’m so sorry for hurting you,” He whispered, his thumbs brushing the backs of your hands like they were trying to erase the pain he’d left behind. “Every time I look at you I feel like I’m watching something I’ll never deserve… but I still want to be better, for you. Because you loved me even when I gave you nothing.” You swallowed hard, throat raw. And still, he didn’t rise. Rafe stayed there, knees on splintered wood, forehead nearly pressed to your joined hands.

Not as a performance. Not to manipulate. But because he didn’t know any other way to show you how completely he'd fallen apart. “I’m scared of who I am without you,” He admitted softly, shame pouring out between each syllable. “But I’m more scared of who I’ve become with you thinking I don’t care.” You didn’t realize you were crying until your tears hit the tops of his knuckles. He felt them. And his grip tightened just slightly, like he knew he’d struck something deep, and couldn’t let go. For the first time, maybe ever, there was no mask.

No bravado. No storm of chaos cloaking his words. Just Rafe. Unarmored. On his knees. Apologizing not because he wanted to be forgiven, but because he needed you to know that he finally understood the cost of loving without care. And he had never wanted anything more than to try again. This time the right way. If you let him. Something in you cracked. Maybe it was the way he said your name. Or maybe it was the sight of him, Rafe Cameron, down on his knees, pride shattered, hands trembling as he reached for you.

Or maybe it was the grief behind his tears, grief for the damage he caused, and for the possibility he’d lost you for good. But instead of falling with him, you reached out. Your fingers curled around his, gentle but firm, like an anchor. He looked up at you with wide eyes, the kind of vulnerability you never thought he’d be capable of showing. There was no mask now. No biting smirk. Just the boy underneath it all, the one who had been quietly begging you to see him, even when he was doing everything to push you away.

You didn’t kneel. You pulled him up. Slowly, like gravity was fighting it, like every inch closer to you was some kind of redemption. He stood unevenly, breath shallow, blinking like he didn’t know what would happen next. He towered just slightly over you now, body stiff, afraid to touch you, waiting. You didn’t speak. You couldn’t. Because the moment his eyes met yours, everything inside of you exploded. And before you could talk yourself out of it, you kissed him.

You surged forward, grabbing the front of his shirt and crashing your lips into his like it was the only thing tethering you to the earth. The kiss was messy, desperate, teeth knocking and breaths stolen. His hands found your face almost too quickly, like he’d been dreaming of this moment and memorizing how to hold you. It wasn’t gentle. It was full of rage, of pain, of longing. Of everything you never got to say. It was an apology and a confession and a scream all in one.

It was grief meeting grief, and choosing not to be alone anymore. He kissed you like he was starving. Like this was the only thing that could make the noise in his head go quiet. His mouth moved against yours in a way that was both familiar and new, like something he’d craved for so long but never believed he deserved. And for a moment, just a moment, you let yourself fall. Fall into him. Into this. Into the chaos of what the two of you were. When you finally pulled back, you were both breathless. Foreheads pressed together. Hands still gripping fabric like you might drift apart if you let go.

His thumb brushed over your cheek, over the tears neither of you had noticed were still falling. “Still think I don’t mean it?” He whispered, voice hoarse and shaking. Your eyes didn’t leave his. Not when he leaned in. Not when his breath ghosted over your lips. Not even when the ache in your chest threatened to cave you in completely. You let the silence stretch between you, thick and intimate before your fingers slipped up the front of his shirt again, tugging him closer. A quiet shrug left your shoulders, a smirk ghosting over your kiss-bitten lips.

“Would it be so bad if I wanted to see you grovel a little bit more?” You murmured, voice low, teasing, but there was no venom in it. Just warmth. A flicker of hope laced in exhaustion. He huffed a soft laugh, the first real one you'd heard from him in what felt like forever, and you felt it, the way it vibrated through his chest, into yours. His nose nudged against yours, slow and tender, grounding you in the closeness. “Nah, baby,” He whispered, voice gravel and saccharine, lips brushing yours again but not quite kissing you.

“Believe me, I intend to do that and a lot more. If you’ll let me.” Your heart clenched, hard. Because you’d never seen him like this. Unarmored. Unfiltered. Saying the things you used to dream about when the nights were long and he was nowhere to be found. He wasn’t asking for permission to make things perfect, he was asking for a chance. A real one. And something in you, despite every bruise, every crack, wanted to believe him. Your fingers slid up, into the short strands of his buzzed hair, your touch soft but unyielding.

“Then don’t just say it,” You breathed, brushing your lips over his again. “Prove it.” This time, the kiss came slower. Deeper. No frenzy. No anger. Just the press of two people trying to fit years of ache into one breath. You felt the way his hands gripped your waist, not possessive, but reverent. Like he was afraid you’d slip through his fingers again. Like he wanted to memorize the way you felt, just in case this was all a dream. You pressed into him, and he met you there, without hesitation, without fear, just need. Pure, aching, desperate need.

The kiss deepened quickly, turning from tentative to hungry, from apology to confession. Your mouths moved in sync, familiar and foreign all at once, like muscle memory coming alive after years of being dormant. His hands found your waist again, sliding around your back, fingers splaying across the small of it like he was trying to hold all of you at once, trying to ground himself in the one thing he could never get right but couldn’t bear to let go of. He pulled you closer, your bodies flush now.

His breath shuddering as your fingers tangled in his buzzed hair, scraping lightly at his scalp. He groaned into your mouth, a sound that made your stomach twist and your heart race. You felt his vulnerability in every movement, the way he kissed you like he thought it might be the last time, the way he whispered your name against your lips like a lifeline. You kissed him like every second apart had left a hollow in your chest only he could fill.

And maybe that wasn’t fair, maybe it wasn’t smart, but in that moment, it was real. Your lips slowed eventually, but didn’t break. You lingered there, breathing each other in. He rested his forehead against yours again, and you could feel how hard his heart was beating, you could feel how yours echoing the same chaotic rhythm. “I missed you so much,” He whispered against your mouth, his voice breaking with the weight of it.

“Even when I was being the worst version of myself… I missed you. And now I’m never letting you go. Not again.” You didn’t reply. You just kissed him again, softer this time, slower. But no less sure. And when you pulled back, lips swollen, eyes glassy, hands still clutching his shirt like he might disappear, you realized something. You were kissing the boy who came back, broken, terrified, begging for a second chance, and maybe, just maybe, you were ready to let him try.