Chapter Text
Kooksville. There were distinctions to both the Cut and Figure 8 with the naked eye. However, those that knew the cities like the back of their hand truly knew that they were merely the same. Those Kooks weren’t as clean as outsiders had deemed them to be. The Pogues were fighting every day, busting their asses to put a damn meal on the table. But for others, they just…lived.
Scampering around at the Cameron’s became second nature to Y/N, the well-known queen of the Cut. She wasn’t easy to get to. After a five-month affair with some no-good Kook, he’d thought that he would be able to just kick her off her pedestal but she’d proved him otherwise.
Momma was a lawyer, a Kook. Pops was a fisherman, a Pogue. She had the best of both worlds. The Cameron’s knew how much power she held, not over them, but in general. Her parents provided her with a foundation and from there, she ran her own show.
Considering her inheritance after her mother’s passing, many people had their eyes on her, both good and bad. Thanks to her father owning a bar on the Cut, her bequest was doubled in amount. She was wealthy. And while she was a Pogue with money, she didn’t let that stop her from staying true to her roots. Growing up on the Cut, she learned to appreciate the little things no matter what.
Most Kooks had been relatively known as ass-kissers but the moment she made it to their side of town, they kissed the ground that she walked on.
A mistake had been made a few years ago when a sales associate had been fired for treating Y/N rudely.
“Hi, may I help you?”
“Yeah, I’m here for a fitting.”
Clad in nothing but a mediocre sundress and raggedy sneakers, she was given a concerned look. When she looked up from her wallet to find the representative giving a stare full of judgment, she spoke up.
“Is there a problem?”
“Oh, Ms. Y/L/N! There you are!”
The manager interjected before things could get any worse.
“I am terribly sorry, why don’t you follow me.”
And that worker stood there, baffled as they were directed to place their name tag on the counter.
“Miranda, that’s not necessary-“
“Nonsense! That’s not any way to treat a loyal customer.”
Though she had a very high title, she never treated others any little of themselves. And that’s what had caught Rafe Cameron off guard.
Their first encounter was at the Cameron household. Rose had invited her over to talk over some plans that had been made between Ward and Y/N’s father.
“Ward is willing to transport everything in with our company as long as he gets equity from your father’s bar’s annual income. I know things are tough right now, considering that you and your father have been searching for safe transports.”
“It’s all up to my dad right now. That’s truly the one thing that’s left that he and my mother shared so I’m not sure where his head is at right now. He might not even keep it running. It kills him every day to open the shop and see their names engraved right above his head.”
“I know it does, but you should also have a say in the final decision. You’re also getting a cut of the income so this’ll be affecting you as well.”
She thought for a moment, leg bouncing as she took a sip of tea from the cup in front of her.
“Can you…excuse me for a minute?”
“Of course. Think about it for as long as you need to.”
She’d disappeared into their backyard, thanking God that she was just out of Rose’s being.
“You’re taking a liking to Rose, that’s a first,” she heard a masculine voice utter.
“Excuse me?”
“Shit, I didn’t think you’d hear me,” it muttered again.
She looked up when she felt a pebble hitting the top of her head. Her face fell at the sight of Rafe. Rafe didn’t have the best reputation. The Pogues hated him simply for his arrogance.
“You’re fucking kidding me,” she barely whispered.
She hadn’t known him well enough, but from the interactions she’d heard about from the younger Pogues, she knew he wasn’t one to mess with.
“Don’t drool, princess.”
Her quiet state immediately turned into a defensive one, rolling her eyes at his comment.
“I wasn’t staring, asshole.”
“Clearly you were. I lost you there for a minute.”
She caught him rubbing at his already red nose, sniffing obnoxiously.
“Are you-“
“Keeps me calm,” he blatantly cut her off, leaning over the rail even more to get a better look at her.
“I don’t think you should-“
“Come on, do a little spin for me.”
“I hope you fucking fall.”
She took off, heading back into the house which indeed sent Rafe over the rail, his eyes stuck on her figure the entire time. She simply giggled to herself, looking back the slightest bit to see him scrambling to his feet
As time progressed, she was seen around their house more and more, becoming a close friend of Sarah’s despite their three-year age difference alongside their pending deal with Ward.
“Dad, what the hell! I can’t even have my friends in the backyard if I wanted to.”
“Rafe, I have a deal going on with that girl's father. I’d be damned if I hadn’t shown her a good face. Suck it up.”
Though he was upset about his consistent predicament, he wasn’t exactly mad. His balcony had a perfect view of the backyard - a perfect view of Y/N wearing nothing but a bathing suit, the wet fabric clinging to her skin and accentuating the curvature of her body.
He’d watch, and watch, and watch. Watch her strip from her dry clothing, watch her take that first dive, watch her face his balcony and readjust her top whenever it wasn’t feeling right. He’d watch and smoothly pump his cock between his bedewed fist, knowing that she had no clue about what was going on.
Then Rafe decided it was time to step things up a notch. While she’d been showering, taking her time and lathering her hair in Sarah’s coconut shampoo that he loved the scent of so much, he’d snatched her panties.
Baby pink lace that he just imagined tearing off of her. Better yet, baby pink lace that he imagined stuffing into her mouth as he fucked her ruthlessly, reminding her that they’re not the only ones there and that she needs to be a good little slut for him and stay quiet.
Rafe sat just outside of the bathroom door, listening in on the frantic jostling at the other side of the door.
“Damn it!” she cursed to herself.
Rafe grinned to himself, thumbing at the flimsy fabric. When he heard the faint ringing of a phone, he listened in closer.
“C’mon, Sarah, pick up,” she muttered.
He could just picture her, tendrils drenched, white cotton covering her S/C skin as she paced in circles.
“Fuck!” she cursed again.
He then heard the faint rustling of clothing, the doorknob twisting before he could process it.
“Rafe, what the hell are you doing!?”
He laid at her feet, looking up at her.
“N-nothing, I was just wondering…are these yours?”
He didn’t want to give them back to her but the embarrassment that flushed her face was well worth it.
“Where the hell did you find those?”
He paused, flashing a crooked smirk.
“They were on my pillow, sweetheart. Care to explain?”
She reached for the fabric, not being able to catch herself sooner. His arm was positioned just around her waist, balling at the fabric of her t-shirt dress. The gust of cool air that hit her exposed sex made her breath hitch, snatching her panties from Rafe before pushing herself off his chest.
“I wasn’t in your fucking room, Rafe!”
He could only feel her warmth still radiating onto him but he knew she was still flustered. The bathroom door swung open, Y/N shoving her towel into his chest whilst pushing past him.
“You’re welcome,” he hummed, scoffing when she simply flipped him off.
“Ouch,” he called after her, “I should’ve just let her walk around the fucking house pantyless.”
Later that evening, he’d found out that she would be spending the night at their house.
“Well, where’s she sleeping?”
“Rafe,” Rose began, eyeing him.
“What? She’s-”
“Ward won’t hesitate to make you sleep outside if you keep this up.”
Rafe thought that if maybe, just maybe, he’d gotten on Sarah’s good side, he’d be able to get to Y/N. Which he was in fact proven wrong when he caught the girls lounging in the living room.
“Hey, ladies.”
“Oh god,” Sarah grumbled.
She got ready to move their setup into her room when Rafe stopped them.
“Woah, woah, I just wanted to see what you guys were watching. It sounded interesting.”
Y/N locked eyes with him, not letting up for even a second.
“What are you really here for, Rafe?”
Sarah interrupted their brief staring competition, sighing when Rafe turned to look at her.
“As I said, I just wanna know what you guys are watching.”
And before either of the girls could even reach for the remote, moaning and pants of “harder” echoed from the TV speakers.
“Sarah, the remote!”
“I don’t know where it is!”
They were both clambering for the remote, Sarah’s face as red as a beet as she held the device up, pausing the movie.
“It’s called Gone Girl,” Y/N panted, avoiding any sort of eye contact with Rafe. “We done here?”
Smirking gloriously, he got up, more so nodding to himself than anyone else.
Weeks had passed and things had been stirred up between Y/N and Rafe.
He’d stored away at least five pairs of Y/N’s underwear, all in the depths of his closet. Not only did he absolutely cherish each pair but he got a rise out of hearing her frantically search for her panties. Easily his favorite pair became her white lace cheeksters, the side wings keeping the garment together with just three pieces of skinny silk leaving little to the imagination.
The filament was purely white. So fresh, so clean. Delirium consuming each vein in his body as he held garb to his nostrils, breathing in her scent. The brief knock on his door scent the panties flying under his bed, feeling giddy with her aroma still seducing his nares.
“Y-yeah?”
“Rafe, where you at man!?”
He groaned at Kelce’s voice just outside his door, popping open the last button of the white blouse covering his torso before leaving his bedroom. He looked around, the house already full of people - Kooks and...very few Pogues. He’d been out of the house in seconds, finding his usual spot under the pavilion with Kelce.
“Save some for me, would ya.”
The random brunette sitting before him stood to her feet, obnoxiously grinning up at him.
“Hi, Rafe,” she began, only to be cut off by Rafe sitting where she once sat.
“Yeah, yeah, Jess,” he muttered, preparing a line of the narcotic for himself.
“Rafe, I thought you quit,” Topper chided, landing a heavy hand on the older Cameron’s back.
“One line wouldn’t hurt, now, would it?”
Before he could even lean down to meet the table, an authoritarian hand held onto the back of his shirt, pulling him back.
“Not in front of Wheezie.”
Before he could process who was even talking to him, the hand let go of him. He caught a whiff of- oh my god. How utterly embarrassing that was.
It wasn’t as if he hadn’t told Wheezie to stay in her room for the rest of the night, but Y/N being protective over his younger sister made something swirl in his lower abdomen.
“Rafe?”
He watched as Y/N placed an arm around Wheezie’s shoulders, shaking her head at him. He then felt a deep pit growing in his stomach. She took such a toll on him, it was unbelievable.
She quickly escorted Wheezie from the setting and despite Wheezie claiming to not care about her brother being a druggie, she didn’t want the thirteen-year-old to see any more than what she’d already seen.
“Wheeze, I know it’s super late right now and I can’t take you anywhere, but how about I make it up to you tomorrow?”
“Like just the two of us? No Sarah, no Rafe?”
“No, I wouldn’t even consider bringing Rafe. I’ll take you shopping, I’ll get you whatever you want. You just have to promise me that you’ll stay in your room for the rest of the night.”
“Fine, on one condition, though.”
Sleeping over at the Cameron’s was far beyond normal, but staying up all night with Wheezie was something else. Though Y/N treated Wheezie as her own younger sibling, the kid was a chatterbox and somehow drowsiness didn’t come over her once.
“You’re kidding,” she deadpanned, hoping to tire the younger teen sitting before her with her bland tone.
“No! I literally broke my arm after I fell off of Rafe’s bike.”
“Wow, that must’ve been horrible.”
After hours and hours of talking her ears off, the music was finally getting louder and it seemed as if more people had shown. It was nearly one in the morning and Y/N just wanted to be with her friends.
She texted Sarah a number of times only to receive a load of random letters and emoticons. She then texted Kiara who somehow didn’t have cell service. It all came down to JJ convoying Y/N out of the girl’s room nearly forty-five minutes later.
“Wheeze, I’ll see you in the morning. Get some sleep, kid.”
She ruffled her hair, groaning when she melted into the boy’s embrace.
“You couldn’t have done that any sooner?”
“I was too busy getting Dr. Spock drunk off his ass out there,” JJ stated in a matter-of-fact tone.
JJ easily held Y/N on his back, scaring Y/N several times as he shuffled along to the music on his way down.
“Where the hell are the others?” she asked, looking around to find nothing but a bunch of randos.
“Sarah and JB disappeared a long time ago, Pope and Kie are...somewhere,” he too looked around, none of their friends in sight. “However, that doesn’t mean I can’t treat myself to a nice cold beer.”
He led Y/N over to the array of drinks sitting on a table, tossing her a can of beer.
“One for the lady,” he squawked with a random accent. “And one for me.”
He looked at her mischievously as she wiped the can off.
“What?”
“I bet I can shotgun a beer faster than you.”
“Oh, bring it on, baby.”
Poking a hole into the can and holding it up to her mouth, she cracked the tab, tilting her head back as the contents flowed into her mouth. She hadn’t realized how many people were actually watching, crushing the can when she’d realized she beat JJ to it.
The liquids had left a soft trail down the corner of her mouth, running down her chin before sitting at her neck. Rafe had somehow caught onto that rather quickly, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his shorts.
“And hail to your shotgun queen,” she boasted playfully, thumb swiping at the remnants on her lower lip.
Rafe was going feral at this point. He felt that somehow she knew what she was doing to him. Everyone had cheered her on, begging her to do another. Little did she know, Rafe easily held title as the Kook champion of shotgunning anything.
“Come on, you have to do it with Rafe!” one person hollered.
“Rafe?” she questioned.
She felt a warm hand on the small of her back, the cool jewelry on one finger making her spine tingle.
“Right here, sweetheart.”
His voice had been lowered a few octaves as opposed to his typically loud, abhorrent presence.
“Don’t be too upset if I beat you.”
She scoffed, taking the can from his now cool hand while holding the eye contact.
“Don’t be so sure of yourself, Cameron.”
As usual, she pierced a hole into the can, snapping the tab in before allowing her head to loll back.
She desperately tried to ignore the way his skin glistened under stray streams of the golden substance, the bubbles of froth gliding down his chin. She dropped her can only a second ere to his, feigning a pout as his chest heaved.
“I won, Cameron,” she teased.
“Aw man, that sucks,” he spoke indifferently, his lips nearing the upper lobe of her ear. “You’ve got a little something on your neck.”
His hand fixated itself around her throat, her flesh so hot against his chilled skin. His thumb grazed at the dampness, the base of his thumb adding pressure to the spot right beneath her jaw. The whimper that tumbled past her lip earned a soft, “naughty girl.”
By now, everyone had scattered about, leaving the two bare under the raw moonlight. She couldn’t help but curse herself for getting lost in blue orbs placed in front of her, his tongue barely tapped her bottom lip as they came out to skim his own. She simply melted under his touch, swallowing harshly.
“Cat caught your tongue now, sweetheart?”
With that, he left her high and dry, yearning for more. Her shoulders fell when he stepped away, her thighs clamping together,
“Fuck you, Rafe Cameron.”