rafe cameron tumblr imagines

step brother.... - prettyprettypsychos

It started off as small touches. Brushes across the arm when walking through the kitchen or taps on the shoulder when Rafe wanted your attention.

But it gradually grew to more, like caresses on the head, whenever Rafe thought you did something well. Or a hand on your thigh when you'd both sit.

You'd brushed it off as Rafe just showing affection to his stepsister, but you soon grew to realise that Rafe never showed affection. Least of all to his family. So the special touches and words of praise started to confuse you. So, much so that you confronted him one time.

"Can I ask you something, Rafe?" You were in the doorway to his room, tapping on the door to alert him of your presence.

Rafe looked up from some clothes he was packing or unpacking (or something), nodding for you to continue.

"Why are you so...nice to me?" You didn't know how else to put it.

Rafe straightens, letting his gaze wander your body as he assumably thinks. "Why do you ask?"

"Well," you begin, playing with the hem of your sweatshirt. "You seem to pay more attention to me then the rest of the family."

Rafe then walks closer, tilting your chin up between his fingers, as it had fallen to gaze at your socks. You meet his gaze, innocent eyes awaiting his answer.

Rafe stared at you, his gaze dragging across your features slowly. "Do you not like that?"

"Well—" you cut yourself off stepping slightly back sighing. "I don't know. I just find it strange. That's all."

Rafe nods to himself. "What do specifically find strange?" He asks.

You lick your lips, swaying your head in thought. "Your compliments." You decide on.

"When I compliment you?" Rafe re-asks. You nod. "Can't I compliment my stepsister?"

"Well...yes." You pause, thinking to yourself that you may have overreacted. "I guess you can." You straighten, brushing your hair behind you. "No worries, forget I said anything." You smile, beginning to head to your room. "Night, Rafe."

"Sleep well, y/n." Rafe watches you leave, gaze wandering down your thin tank top and loose shorts.

. . .

You were laughing with some guy you had met at a party, a kook friend's house filled with booze and flashing lights.

"How does that even make sense?" You laugh.

The guys smile had widened as he watched you, shaking his head. "That's what I want to know."

Rafe watched from afar, sipping a beer bottle. Your outfit choice was showing a little more skin then you'd usually, capturing the attention of the kook beside you. The guy had managed his hand onto your thigh as you giggled at a joke he uttered.

Rafe tilted his head. He knew you knew practically nothing about what this guy wanted from you. Rafe knew that your naivety would get you in trouble.

You weren't ready for boys like the kook slowly drawing closer. Rafe didn't want your first experience to be a tipsy one with a quick-fuck walk-away. He couldn't let that happen to his stepsister.

So, he pushed off the wall nearing you. You felt a hand rest on your shoulder. Looking up you spotted Rafe. He tilted his head to the side, silently telling you talk to him.

You shift your gaze back to the guy, who had grown disappointed at the fact that you were clearly leaving. "Sorry." You spoke before standing up, pulling down your skirt.