Dark!rafe Cameron X Reader - Tumblr Posts

In the Night

dark!Ghostface!stepbro!Rafe x f!Reader w a side of JJ x Reader

READ ENTIRE WARNING BEFORE PROCEEDING

Warnings: noncon (rape), incest (step siblings), murder, major character death, p in v smut, lowkey yandere themes, knife kink, blood kink, unprotected sex, creampie, Rafe is very obsessed with his little step sister (everyone is 18+)

You cowered behind the car, trying to quiet your shivering sobs. Your mind was racing, barely able to hold onto any thought other than the ghastly scene you had just been forced into.

For months, a masked killer had been terrorizing Kildare and tonight you came face to face with him.

Only to realize that you had been living with him for half of your life.

For the most part, it had been a night like any other, JJ had taken you out on a little dinner date before bringing you back to his house.

You had been dating for several months at this point, a fact that your stepfather, Ward, begrudgingly accepted, but your stepbrother seemed to harbor more resentment towards him than any of the other Pogues.

Just before you had left, Rafe had gotten into yet another argument with you about him, although he had never been so aggressive with you about it before.

“He’s not good enough for you, Y/N! You know he’s just going to get you into trouble.” Your older step brother scolded you.

“Maybe he’d stay out of trouble if you and your gang didn’t bring it to him all the time,” you sniped back, pushing past him to get to the door.

You were interrupted when his hand clamped down hard around your arm just above your elbow, stopping you in your tracks.

“Are you seriously trying to walk away from me right now?” Rafe growled as he turned to you, his hold still tight on your arm.

“Yeah, I am, JJ is out front waiting for me. Now let go of me, Rafe.”

He stared down at you, a familiar yet unrecognizable glint in his blue eyes. He scanned your face for a moment, tension heavy in the air, before finally reluctantly releasing your arm with a huff.

“Just uh… stay safe, okay, Y/N? You know how dangerous it’s been recently.” You could have sworn you saw a small smirk on his face before you turned to exit.

When you and JJ got back to his place after dinner, the two of you had just gotten out of the car when you heard him yell.

You turned to see a large figure wearing the same ghost face mask you had seen all over the news holding your boyfriend at knifepoint, the blade pressed into his throat.

JJ struggled against him for a moment, but he flinched when the man dug the sharp metal in just a bit.

“Stop fighting, or she dies next.” The man hissed, his familiar voice stopping you in your tracks as you raced around the car to them.

You were several feet away from them but too petrified to move.

“Stop!” You cried out, tears burning at your eyes. You felt terrified and helpless, unable to take your gaze off of your boyfriend.

The masked man ignored you, continuing to speak to JJ, “you don’t deserve Y/N, you know? She’s too good to be with a filthy Pogue like you.”

His words washed over you like a bucket of cold water as you finally recognized his voice and you wanted to be sick.

Your lips parted to beg with him, don't do this, please, don't hurt him don't hurt him!

At the flinch of his wrist, it was too late. You knew it. The blade glinted as it slid across JJ's neck, and you finally found your voice as a cascade of crimson followed its arc and JJ fell to ground.

You screamed as you felt the air get knocked out of your lungs. You wanted to collapse, and you probably would have if not for the sound of the killer’s horribly recognizable laughter drawing closer.

In the darkness, you turned, stumbling to the ground painfully before picking yourself up again and running before crouching behind the car JJ had been fixing up.

The chilly autumn air made you shiver and your vision was blurred by your tears.

You still hadn’t gotten over your shock when you heard your name being called.

“Y/N,” he taunted, voice getting closer with each step.

Your heart was thundering in your ears so loudly you were scared he could hear it.

“Just come out now and I promise, I won’t hurt you.” He was on the other side of the car now and you felt your stomach clench in terror.

Your eyes widened when he walked around the car, easily spotting you crouched near the back door.

When he ran towards you, you opened the back car door, blocking him momentarily as you climbed in, planning to slide across and run out the other side.

Your fingertips reached for the door handle, but large hand gripped your legs, pulling you back towards him. Flipping onto your back, you tried to kick him off, desperately scratching at his arms with your your nails at the same time.

The man pinned you beneath him, cackling at your pathetic attempts to fight back. In your panic, you grabbed at his face, pulling his mask off at the same moment his bloodied knife came to your throat.

You froze beneath him, staring up into your step brother’s eyes in shock and horror.

“Rafe?” You whispered, tears spilling past your lashes. “Why?”

A sickening grin spread across his lips as he leered above you. “Didn’t I always tell you, sweetheart? JJ isn’t good enough for you. He didn’t know you like I do.”

His free hand came to your cheek, stroking it lovingly and accidentally smearing JJ’s blood across your skin.

“Stop it!” You whimpered, nausea bubbling up in your gut as the coppery scent hit your nostrils. “You’re insane!”

Rafe’s eyebrows furrowed at that, anger darkening his eyes. He drew so close you could feel his breath against your skin, “I’m just trying to protect you-”

“Protect me?!” You hissed, tears streaming down your cheeks now.

Rafe’s nose twitched, frustration written all over his face.

“You don’t get it,” he mumbled, eyes leaving your face and trailing down your chest. “But I’ll show you.”

Rafe removed the large blade from your throat, grabbing the bottom of your shirt before slicing it down the middle.

You whimpered beneath him, trying to cover yourself up, but his knife found your throat again, pressing down slightly.

“Don’t make me hurt you too,” he threatened, his low voice making your stomach twist.

His pupils were blown wide as he took you in.

“No bra?” He grinned wickedly, “guess my lil sis is more of a slut than I expected.”

“Rafe,” you pleaded, voice breaking through your tears as you looked up at him. “Please, I’m scared.”

He groaned at that, pressing closer and you shuddered at the feel of him growing harder against you. You squirmed when his large hand cupped over your tit, squeezing your nipple between two fingers and drawing a whine from your throat.

His lips smothered yours, hungrily tasting you and taking your breath away. With the cold metal at your throat, there was nowhere to turn to get away from him. Nausea churned inside you when he pushed his tongue into your mouth.

He pulled away finally and put the knife down on the floor to unbuckle his belt, fumbling with his button and zipper before freeing his erect cock from his boxers, not even bothering to push his pants down.

At the sight of your step brother stroking his hard dick above you, your tears started flowing again, disgust and horror mixing with a third emotion you were too ashamed to identify.

Rafe forced your thighs apart, pushing your skirt up to reveal your pink panties.

“Shit, Y/N,” he groaned, pressing his thumb to your covered clit. You squirmed in his grasp, biting your lip to stop your whimpers from escaping.

“Can’t wait anymore,” he breathed through gritted teeth, grabbing your panties and sliding them to the side before lining his tip up with your slick entrance.

“Stop, Rafe-!” your protest was cut off when your step brother pushed himself inside you, stretching your unprepared cunt around him.

You whined loudly, heart skipping a beat when his hand wrapped around your throat, smearing the blood from the knife across your tender skin.

He stilled above you for a moment, taking a shaky breath as he basked in the feeling of your snug walls squeezing around him, tighter than he could have imagined. He inched himself deeper until his tip kissed your cervix.

Rafe leaned closer to you, his lips covering your before he began slowly thrusting into you, increasing his pace with each push of his cock.

You mewled against his lips, confused and disgusted with yourself when you could feel yourself growing wetter around him.

He broke the kiss and you gasped for breath, only for his grip to tighten around your throat.

There was nowhere to go, and Rafe easily caged you in on top of the leather seats of car. You felt claustrophobic, overstimulated by the feel of him rutting into you in the cramped backseat.

The lewd sound of his cock plunging into your slick cunt taunted you, and you couldn’t control the pornographic moans that he was forcing out of you.

His thrusts were brutal, bordering on punishing at this point, and his fingers were squeezing around your neck so tight your vision was becoming fuzzy at the edges.

“Rafe-!” You choked, hot tears burning at your eyes.

The world was spinning around you, the pressure building between your legs. You grabbed onto Rafe, clinging to him tightly in your confusion.

“Tell me you love me,” he groaned, not slowing his pace at all as his thumb found your clit, messily rolling over it.

Your skin crawled at his words, stomach flipping as you nervously shook your head no, but you couldn’t bite back your moan as he teased your tender bud.

You knew that only pissed him off more though, and his grip on your throat tightened in warning.

“Tell your big brother you love him, dumb fucking slut.” He hissed, hitting a spot that made you see stars.

“I-” you whimpered before whispering. “I love you.”

He kissed you hard, growling as he pulled away and resting his damp forehead against yours.

“Tell me again, baby.”

His hips tilted to meet yours, pushing himself deep inside you with each thrust. His thumb lazily traced your clit, pulling you to the brink.

“I love you,” you moaned, primal desires overcoming your thoughts of resisting.

“Again.”

“I love you, fuck, Rafe!” you whimpered as you were pushed over the edge.

Blinding white light exploded behind your closed eyes as you came undone around him. Sinful pleasure tingled between your legs as he fucked you even harder, and he cursed as you squeezed around him.

You couldn’t think straight, much less control your mouth, and the endless string of “I love you Rafe”’s that rolled off your tongue was the reason it wasn’t long before your step brother was painting your walls with his sticky seed.

When The Party’s Over Masterlist (Rafe Cameron x Reader)

summary: Manipulated into a secret relationship with Rafe Cameron, you’re finding it much easier said than done to do the right thing and walk away…especially when he refuses to let you.

➥ Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, abusive relationship, forbidden relationship, violence, public sex, jealousy, underage drinking, drug use, manipulation, corruption, loss of virginity, forced pregnancy, innocent reader, Heyward!reader, dad!Rafe

Keep reading

A another masterpiece! God I ate that UP! Thank you so much for feeding us the good stuff

White Lines & White Knights

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, pr*stitution, power imbalance, classism, mentions of death, jealousy, humiliation, revenge p*rn, drug dealer!Rafe, drug use, Pogue!reader

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics

summary: You and Rafe are using each other until you decide that's not what you want anymore, and the spoiled rich kid will do whatever it takes to have his expensive toy back in his bed.

⭑

Your door shut behind you with a resounding click, and once in the comfort of your home, you took the time to decompress. You took advantage of your much needed reprieve, the back of your head grazing the wood as you allowed your eyes to fall closed. Your heart was still beating wildly in your chest, and you wondered if a day would come where it ever wouldn’t. After all, this wasn’t exactly “new” anymore…

It had been five months since you buried your mom, five months since you discovered the mountain of debt she’d done an impressive job of hiding from you, and five months since you thought you’d be homeless on the street in less than one. In two weeks, you’d dealt with a loss you didn’t think you’d have to for at least another forty years or so and took on the kind of responsibility you didn’t think you’d have to for at least another three.

Your mom died 152 days ago…

…and you’d started fucking Rafe Cameron less than a month later.

You liked to pretend to not know why you slept with Kildare’s prime rich boy that fateful Saturday night, but you were far more self aware than you wanted to be. Even if you weren’t, it wasn’t exactly some mysterious string of decisions that lead to being tangled up in the sheets with Sarah’s asshole of an older brother. You didn’t need to pay someone to diagnose you.

You were grieving.

It was really just that simple, and the monetary stress on top of that drove you to find comfort in strange drinks and hard drugs. To this day you still didn’t know if Rafe just happened to be at the right place at the right time or if he heard whispers about John B.’s best friend snorting pills and getting shit faced when her usual crowd was looking the other way, but either way, the stuffy Kook clearly saw an opportunity to kill several birds with one stone.

“First two lines are free,” he’d told you that night, the bass of the music downstairs muffled by the expensive walls of some girl’s house.

You remembered how you’d chuckled, drunkenly shaking your head.

“Well, two lines is all I’m doing, I guess,” you’d murmured, throwing your hands up.

Rafe’s smirk had been cruel, a mocking glint in his blue eyes.

“What?” he’d dragged out, head tilted. “Spent all that life insurance money, already?”

Any other time and Rafe’s insensitivity might’ve upset you, but at the time you’d been drunk out of your mind and looking for more ways to forget the sudden absence in your life.

“I can’t imagine why Sarah hates you,” you’d sarcastically replied, approaching the impressive desk and leaning over to inhale a line.

You wiped your nose as you straightened, lashes fluttering as you ignored the feeling of Rafe’s gaze on you.

“I’ll be lucky if I even have a house to live in next week.”

The words had come out slurred, accompanied by a light chuckle, and deep down you’d felt the flutter of stress that you’d been desperately ignoring for weeks. You’d quickly snorted the other line, closing your eyes for a moment.

“Turns out my mom was skilled at hiding more than just illnesses…”

You remembered the silence—from both you and Rafe—and how in that moment you’d allowed yourself a solid four seconds of lingering on the reality of your predicament. In those four seconds, your eyes had watered and your lips had trembled and your throat had tightened, and after those four seconds, you were turning to Rafe with a haughty smile.

“Guess you won’t be finding a new client in me, huh?” you’d wondered with a shrug, finding a seat on the desk.

Rafe’s blue gaze had been unreadable as he eyed you, sitting in the chair at the desk, legs spread as he ran his eyes over you—slowly and in a way you didn’t hate at the time. You hadn’t been able to tell what he was thinking, although looking back, you wondered how it wasn’t so obvious to you then. Maybe because it was just too cruel of a thought, and while it was no secret Rafe was a spoiled asshole, you had never once thought of him as cruel.

Rafe had merely shrugged.

“There’s plenty of fish in the sea,” he’d slowly said, the corner of his pink lips curving upwards just a tad. “Besides…”

You’d watched him stand, rounding the desk to come and tower over you where you sat.

“I like to think of myself as a pretty ethical kind of guy…”

You’d started to snort at that before his gaze met yours again, and you found yourself swallowing whatever you were about to say. You hadn’t done a thing when Rafe reached up to touch your arm, the feel of his finger so light. You hadn’t wanted to acknowledge the way your heart skipped a beat at both his close proximity and the change in atmosphere. You hadn’t been able to ignore—however—the heat that settled in the pit of your stomach.

“...and I’ve been known to meet people halfway. Accept whatever they can offer…”

You remembered your internal conflict that night.

You’d been drunk and high and sad…not stupid. You knew exactly what Rafe was insinuating to you, and you’d struggled with the idea of really sleeping with Rafe Cameron for more drugs. The man was far from unattractive, sure that if drugs weren’t involved you’d still consider sleeping with him. If you’d believed in any of that, you’d imagine that your mom was turning over in her grave. At the time though, you hadn’t been quite sure as to what you believed in, so when he took your silence for consent, leaning in and touching your nose with his…

You hadn’t stopped him when he closed the distance.

You hadn’t even known whose house you were at, only internally apologizing to them for having sex on their expensive desk. You didn’t know if it was the drugs or the alcohol or simply Rafe Cameron, but it was easily the best sex you’d ever had in your life, and at one point you’d really considered how much better it could possibly be to fuck him without the condom.

You had no idea that you’d eventually find out.

Once dressed, you’d walked home with a small bag of pills and a satisfied grin. You knew that your friends would host some kind of intervention if they ever found out, but all you’d been able to focus on was the simple fact that fucking Rafe Cameron for a little coke and pills wasn’t sounding like the worst idea. Of course, if you’d known that you’d eventually start fucking him for your livelihood, you might’ve made different choices that night.

You pressed your hand to your face and pushed away from the door, eager to start the shower and scrub the stench of him off of you. Per routine, you took the money out of your pocket before getting undressed, eyeing the wad of one hundreds that now sat on your nightstand. Two grand was nothing to someone like him, but to someone like you, it made all the difference in the world.

…and Rafe knew that.

He’d known that when he handed you a thousand dollars one night, the coke in your system just starting to hit. You’d looked up at him from where you sat in confusion, hesitantly wrapping your hand around the money as you alternated between eyeing it and eyeing him. You hadn’t known how to feel about it, especially since it had only been moments ago when he was inside of you…and there he was handing you a grand in hundreds.

“Don’t look like that,” Rafe had chuckled, walking to his dresser in search of a shirt. “You know you need the money.”

He wasn’t wrong…and that was the problem.

Unless you hit a lucky streak in life, you’d always need the money, and that was exactly why you were in the predicament you were in—four months later and putting up with the monster that was Rafe Cameron just to keep a roof over your head. The thought brought tears to your eyes, positive now that your mom could see you and was beyond disappointed in you. 

Her disappointment could only be outdone by your own.

You were in a situation that you couldn’t get out of, on the verge of ending this arrangement so many times before asking yourself what better way could you pay your mom’s debts and survive? It wasn’t easy money by far, but it was fast money, and it was the kind of money that would take months to make at whatever low paying job you’d find around Outer Banks. Someone like you rarely got hired at the country club or working for some rich snob who wiped their ass with the kind of money you needed.

Rafe knew this too.

Tears kissed your eyes as you scrubbed your skin raw, wishing that you could scrub away the nasty bruise right along with the sweat and grime. You winced every time you touched it, cursing the blond and feeling one of those moments where you considered blocking him and moving on from this pathetic era in your life for good.

Fucking Rafe Cameron for drugs didn’t seem like a bad idea at the time, fucking him for money seemed like an even better one…until that entitled attitude started to extend to the woman he was paying good money to have access to. You remembered the first time you opposed something he wanted to do, the way in which he ignored you, the way he merely pressed your face into the pillow to shut you up.

It was the first time you felt truly icky about this whole situation.

Not even just icky.

…but afraid.

“I don’t pay you to tell me what you will and won’t do in bed,” he’d chuckled at you like it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard.

You’d still been trembling and wiping mascara from your cheeks.

“I pay you because I want to fuck you,” he’d slowly whispered to you, leaning in. “...and you let me because you don’t want to be sleeping on the beach.”

He’d held your gaze for what felt like too long, impressing upon you the true dynamic of this arrangement, and you remembered the unease that had festered in your gut that day. Maybe all the drugs and alcohol hadn’t allowed you to fully look at this arrangement for what it was and the power imbalance here, but you had for the first time that day, and you hadn’t liked it.

You liked it even less now, wrapping the towel around you and wondering how you were ever going to get out of this predicament you’d put yourself into.

“My family’s going out of town for the weekend,” the familiar blond mumbled to you as he inhaled a familiar powdery substance off the back of his hand. “Pack a bag when you get home, and I’ll pick you up tomorrow night.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at that, huffing instead.

“I can’t spend the whole weekend on Figure 8,” you told him. “I have plans.”

Rafe nodded, and you hated the smile that danced across his lips.

“Okay, uh, be ready at 8, I don’t want-.”

“Rafe, I’m serious,” you cut him off, shrugging. “I can’t stay at your house all weekend.”

You watched him watch you, slowly swiping his tongue between his lips as a frown started to take over. His dirty blond hair kissed his brows, and the longer the silence stretched, the more nervous you grew. You watched as Rafe glanced away, seemingly deep in thought before those baby blues of his rested on you, much colder than they were a few seconds ago.

“What the hell am I paying you for?” he whispered.

The question was rhetorical, and you swallowed.

“Rafe…I’ve barely seen my friends in months. I finally made plans to meet up with them for more than five minutes and-.”

“...and whose fault is that?” he shrugged.

You frowned at him.

“Nobody told you to go off on a bender when your mom kicked the bucket…” you blinked at his callousness. “Maybe you should’ve been finding comfort in your friends instead of drugs and vodka…and me.”

He finished his sentence with a soft—and yet cruel—smile.

“I pay you good money—great money even!—to be available when I want you to be, and unless you’ve found some other rich asshole to open your legs for, which I doubt…be ready tomorrow at 8.”

He was standing, now, looking down at you where you sat on the bed. The harsh reminder of your roles here had you looking away, and Rafe turned away when he rightfully took your silence as confirmation. You stared at the wall for a few moments before turning to stare at his back, thinking to yourself that this couldn’t go on much longer. Whether it took 1 or 5 jobs, you couldn’t keep relying on Rafe Cameron forever.

What was once a weekly occurrence had turned into something entirely other, and it hadn’t bothered you so much when your mother’s death was still so fresh and you were seeking solace in the worst coping mechanisms known to man—including isolation. Now, however, you were waking up to the choices you’d made and you hated the feeling of being inebriated and being surrounded by people you barely knew.

You hated being away from your friends.

“I didn’t even know you’d gotten a job,” John B. said to you hours later, looking disappointed but understanding. “JJ’s gonna be real disappointed. He’s been talking all week about having you try some new weed he got.”

You gave a light laugh at that, a pang in your chest at how much you missed doing stupid shit with them.

“Yeah,” you sadly said. “The world—and bills—doesn’t stop just because my mom died.”

The brunette grew quiet at that, worriedly eyeing you now.

“You doing okay…?”

You sighed at that, looking out over the yard of The Chateau, fiddling with your fingers as you thought of a certain blond.

“I’ve been better, but…I’ve been worse too.”

Your answer was honest, and you briefly wondered what John B. would think if he knew just how bad ‘worse’ had been. You didn’t think any of them would hate you if they knew the full extent of just how far you’d fallen, but you knew they’d have a hard time wrapping their head around it. The drugs and alcohol were one thing, but Rafe Cameron was entirely another. The man was the worst example of a Kook if there was one, representing every bad trait attributed to them.

Your friends would not understand you essentially sacrificing your self respect for money and drugs.

Sometimes you didn’t understand it either. 

Most especially when Rafe had his hands around your neck.

He picked you up at 8 on the dot Friday night—a man of his word if nothing else—and less than a hour later you were bent over his father’s desk as he pounded into you. Your head was hanging off of it, fighting hard to not scrape your nails against the dark mahogany. It wasn’t the first time Rafe fucked you on Ward’s desk, and you doubted that it would be the last time. There’d even been a few rare occasions when he fucked you in the older man’s bed, and you didn’t know what complex the blond had that fueled these decisions, but you weren’t a psychologist so you figured it wasn’t anything to concern yourself with.

Despite the tight grip on your throat, a choked moan managed to escape every time Rafe pushed his cock into you. Sweat made his skin glisten, and you were sure you fared no better. His hair wasn’t so neat, now, and you had the stray thought that you preferred it that way. Rafe being so far from ugly definitely made this arrangement easier to swallow down at times, but other times it just made you angry.

How was it fair that someone seemingly had everything, including the big dick to match?

Rafe walked around like he was God’s gift to the world, possessing one of the most rotten personalities you’d ever had the pleasure of being on the receiving end of, and he seemed to be rewarded with it with everything the average person could only dream about. As if any of that wasn’t enough, you practically rewarded him with even more by essentially telling him he could do whatever he wanted so long as the price was right.

It made you disgusted with yourself at times.

When he pressed a hand to your stomach, hips slowing to a pace that made your breath hitch, you squeezed your eyes shut. In the quiet office, the sound of his cock disappearing between your folds was loud, the wet noise telling you that there’d no doubt be a mess left on Ward’s desk when this was all said and done. You heard Rafe curse, and you didn’t have the energy to lift your head from where it hung off the desk.

“...and to think,” he panted from above you. “You were going to pass this up to sit around with those dirty Pogues.”

At this, you did attempt to sit up, a hand against his chest and one on the desk as he thrusted into you.

“Those ‘dirty Pogues’ are my friends,” you forced out, lashes fluttering. “...and clearly you forget that I’m one too.”

Rafe merely chuckled at that, perfect teeth winking at you as he grinned.

“Yeah, but you’re my dirty Pogue so it’s a little different.”

His words had your frown deepening, disgust filling your chest at the way he talked about you while literally fucking you. Completely turned off, you turned your head away, attempting to separate yourself from him. That haughty laugh reached your ears, and to your dismay, he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer.

“What…?” he lazily drawled. “You don’t like the sound of that?”

“You’re being an asshole, get off of me…”

He jerked his hips against you, making you gasp, and you squirmed in his arms as you fought to get away. Rafe leaned in to harshly nip his teeth at your cheek, his movements growing rough, causing the desk to shake.

“I’ve spent too much money on you to not say whatever the hell I want,” he evenly said. “So, yeah, at this point, I’ll confidently say I practically own you.”

Tears kissed your eyes at the disgusting words, and fed up with your resistance, Rafe merely placed a hand between your breasts before harshly shoving you back down. You winced at the action, but you had no time to fully linger on it as Rafe started to roughly plunge his cock into you, the sound of his skin slapping against yours reaching your ears. He wouldn’t allow you to sit up, both of his hands wrapped around your wrists now as he leaned over you.

This felt too reminiscent of the time he’d pressed your face into the bed, telling you to relax as he pressed the head of his cock just above where your folds were. You recalled the uncomfortable feeling and the tears that stained the pillow as he slowly fucked you in a place no one ever had before. The deja vu of it all had your mind wandering, eyes defocusing as you just waited for it to be over. It seemed like Rafe’s grunts sounded from above you forever, and when he finally came onto your stomach with a low moan, you didn’t move for some time.

You were slow to sit up as he got dressed, trembling as you steaded yourself for what you were about to say.

“I don’t wanna do this anymore.”

The words came out whispered, but in the quiet study, you might as well have yelled them. Rafe didn’t acknowledge you, and you knew it wasn’t because he hadn’t heard you. Frustrated with his refusal to take you seriously, you hopped off of Ward’s desk, angrily grabbing your clothes.

“I’m serious, Rafe. After this weekend…this is done,” you continued, voice firmer, now. “Don’t call me or text me or worry about any more money. I can’t rely on you forever anyway.”

By now, Rafe was actually listening to you, and you avoided his gaze as you got dressed. His silence was loud, and when you were finally decent again, only then did you lift your gaze to glance at him. His visage was unreadable, and after some time, he merely blinked at you.

“If I remember correctly, per your own words, your mom had enough debt ‘to file for bankruptcy’.”

His words made you sharply inhale, and you bit your tongue as he ran his hands through his hair in a poor attempt to tame the damp locks.

“Don’t ruin your life just because you’re pissed at me,” he coldly added.

You crossed your arms over your chest, pulling your lip between your teeth.

“Personal feelings aside, I can’t rely on you forever, Rafe. That’s just the truth. I have to figure something out eventually, and there’s no time like the present,” your voice shook as he fixed you with an unnerving stare. “I miss my friends, and I don’t want to be the sad, damaged girl running to Rafe Cameron just so I don’t feel anything anymore.”

The blond followed your lead, folding his arms over his own chest as he leaned against the wall, staring you down with that annoying crooked smile.

“...and where exactly do you plan to find a job that pays you what I do?”

“There are jobs, Rafe. I’ll find one.”

You didn’t appreciate his tone nor the look he was giving you as he studied you. He was looking down on you, and yes while that wasn’t exactly an unusual occurrence, this time was different. He was looking down his nose like he didn’t believe in you, like he expected you to be crawling back to him in no time, begging him to fuck you again.

After a few moments, that crooked smile curved even more, and you didn’t miss the glint in his eyes.

“Well, I wish you luck…”

His voice didn’t match the words that came out of his mouth, and his gaze most certainly didn’t.

“I literally called this morning and was told over the phone that you all were hiring...and now I get here, and I’m being told you’re not…?”

You tried to keep the skepticism out of your tone, but your frustration at your predicament was bubbling up and threatening to be unleashed on the lone man before you. The inside of the country club was practically empty—a slow Tuesday—and you briefly glanced around at the two staffers in the whole room. Sure, you could write it off to a slow day that didn’t need a full staff, but something in you told you that it was more than that.

You didn’t believe the man in front of you.

“Look, I don’t know what else to tell you, miss. Whoever you talked to got it wrong. I’m sorry for the miscommunication on our end,” was his only explanation.

You didn’t dare bother to point out that both he and whoever you’d spoken with on the phone sounded damn near identical.

When it became obvious that this conversation was over, you turned away with a small huff, breezing outside to a familiar dark car. Kie was standing by it, arms uncomfortably crossed over her chest, glaringly obvious that she’d rather be anywhere but here despite being from ‘here’.

“Well…?” she wondered as you got closer.

“They’re not hiring,” you mumbled as you slid into the passenger seat.

She joined you inside the vehicle a moment later, a frown on her face.

“...but you called.”

“I know.”

There was a beat of silence before she scoffed, reaching for her door handle.

“If this is because you aren’t some rich snob looking for play money…”

She trailed off when you spoke up.

“No, I don’t…I don’t think it’s that,” you stopped her. “Let’s just go.”

She eyed you for a few moments, frown deepening.

“Are you sure? Y/N, this is like the fourth place you’ve been to today,” she pointed out. “...and I don’t want to add my stress to your stress, but it’s kind of fucked up.”

You didn’t have the heart to tell her that it wasn’t possible for you to be any more stressed than you already were, simply signaling for her to drive. You could feel her eyes periodically landing on you as she did, and you chewed on the inside of your cheek, wondering why the universe had it out for you.

It had been weeks since you’d last seen or talked to Rafe, weeks since you ended your little arrangement, and weeks since you’d had a consistent source of income. It wasn’t a pretty nor respectable way to make money, but you’d been making money nonetheless. However, you couldn’t find it in you to continue sacrificing your self respect to keep sleeping with Rafe Cameron. You’d also been telling the truth when you told him you didn’t want to be this messed up sad thing anymore.

You had long let go of the drugs and cut back on the drinking, and now you’d dropped Rafe too.

You’d had hope…but now it was dwindling.

No one would hire you. In fact, no one had even allowed you far enough to officially apply just to get a foot into an interview. It was always the same. You’d call ahead so you didn’t waste your time, they’d tell you they were looking for people, and then the moment you actually showed up and introduced yourself, it was an entirely different story. It didn’t make any sense to you, and the thought of ever proving Rafe right made you want to be sick.

“How bad is it?” JJ asked you a few days later, the both of you away and isolated in some corner of some guy’s party.

You looked down at the weak drink in your hand, contemplating on whether or not to be honest.

“It’s…manageable.”

A whopper of a lie.

“...then why don’t I believe you? Come on, Y/N, it’s me. I know your mom wasn’t the best when it came to funds, and when she died…” he scoffed. “You weren’t exactly in any shape to march down to anyone’s job and fight for work just to keep things afloat.”

You looked away at that, throat tight.

“I’m honestly shocked you’ve kept it up for this long.”

If only he knew…

You felt his gaze on you as you wondered just how truthful you should be, but you reminded yourself that this was JJ. If he knew the full extent of everything, he’d be likely to rob a bank. Nevermind the fact that it would just make him ask more questions, like how you’d even managed to keep things afloat all this time. You didn’t think you could lie to him, and you didn’t think you could handle being on the receiving end of whatever look JJ would undoubtedly give you if you told him you’d been sleeping with Rafe to pay your bills.

You didn’t know if it was fortunate or unfortunate that the subject of your thoughts walked through the doors to prevent this conversation from continuing. His presence shouldn’t have shocked you—the party was pretty mixed with people from all sides of the island after all—but it still gave you pause, and JJ noticed.

“This asshole,” you heard the blond murmur, rolling his eyes.

You were inclined to agree, and you shrunk in on yourself with your drink, unable to ignore the knowledge that Rafe was at the same party you were at. In the weeks you’d been free of him, you’d had time to really ponder on your dalliance, and while you’d long accepted your hand in your own life choices, it was now hard to ignore Rafe’s own opportunistic choices in the situation. Sure, yes, you fucked him for money…

…but what did it say about him that he was perfectly happy to enter an arrangement in which he kept you off of the streets so long as you opened your legs for him?

If he was a good guy he’d just…keep you off the streets.

Like JJ would if you ever told him the truth.

You’d just decided to stop hiding in the bathroom when you came face to face with the man himself, heart skipping a beat at his presence. He was leaning against the wall next to the door, and you had the sneaking suspicion he hadn’t been waiting for his turn.

“How’s the job search going?” was how he greeted you, and you hadn’t been able to keep the ire off of your face.

He softly laughed to himself at that, nodding.

“I figured you’d look a little something like that.”

“Fuck you,” you breathed, and Rafe frowned, tilting his head to the side.

“You were, remember? And then you stopped…and that’s how you found yourself back at square one,” he reminded you.

The music traveled from downstairs into the dimly lit hallway, and you looked away from him just as he heaved a tired sigh.

“Do I need to apologize for calling you and your friends dirty Pogues? Is that what this is about?” he lazily wondered.

You didn’t dignify that with a response, and when you lifted your gaze, Rafe was rolling his eyes. He fixed you with a look, reaching up to touch your hair with a tsk.

“Come on, Y/N. You need me…”

He leaned in.

“We both know it, and you’re never going to find a job in this town.”

“You don’t know that,” you fired back, slapping his hand away as you took a step away from him.

Almost instantaneously, Rafe’s entire expression morphed, and you swallowed at the shadow that passed over his features. His pink lips pressed together, and those blue eyes hardened in a way you’d never been on the receiving end of. You watched his nostrils flare.

“Oh, trust me, I know.”

The combination of his tone and his expression and his words gave you pause, and your brows pulled together as you stared at him. For a moment, the music in the house faded into the background as Kie’s words came to your mind. ‘It’s kind of messed up’, she’d said, and while you hadn’t given that much thought to the statement then…you certainly were now.

“What did you do?” you shakily asked the blond, skin growing cold.

Rafe didn’t answer right away, and when he did, it was a lie anyway.

“I don’t know what you mean,” was all he said, one brow raised.

You felt tears kiss your eyes, and you felt silly for not putting the pieces together earlier. You didn’t know how, but somehow, Rafe had a hand in your lack of employment. It seemed exactly like something he’d do, but the only thing you couldn’t understand was why. Why do it? Just to see you fail? Just to feel like he’d won?

“Look, this little rebellious act…it’s cute and amusing and all…” he shrugged off with a small smile. “...but it’s silly. We both know you’re just going to end up right back under me.”

“You’re such an asshole,” you hissed, moving past him.

“Yeah, and you knew that when you let me fuck you for drugs on some guy’s desk,” he threw at you, making you flinch and slow down. 

“I was going through things then, Rafe! I didn’t…” you huffed a sigh, turning to glower at him. “I didn’t care about things I most definitely should have. It’s different now.”

You threw your hands up.

“I’m different, now, and I don’t want to keep sacrificing my dignity and self respect just to keep a roof over my head. I don’t want to sleep with someone who views me and anyone like me as beneath him. It disgusts me, and unlike you, I have no interest in sleeping with people who I claim disgust me.”

You watched Rafe’s lip curl over his teeth.

“Yeah, that’s real respectable and noble and all, but I wonder how noble it’ll feel when you’re being evicted,” he spat at you, moving closer. “You’re not getting a job in this town, that I can promise you, so you keep this up for as long as you want to, but we both know how this ends.”

You leaned away from the finger in your face.

“I fucking own you,” he bit out, roughly grabbing your arm and yanking you close despite your resistance. “You named your price, and I paid it-.”

“For a service! Not a person,” you harshly whispered.

Rafe’s chuckle was cold as he stared you down, perfect teeth winking at you.

“You think you’re the only girl in Outer Banks willing to spread her legs for some money? You think I’d have to pay any of them half of what I paid you?” your stomach dropped at his words. “I’ve been a lot more generous than you realize.”

He roughly let you go, practically shoving you away from him, and you stumbled. He eyed you with an expression filled with promise, and when you turned away to finally find your friends and hopefully leave, you descended the stairs on unsteady legs.

You pushed against Rafe’s arm and chest as he held your chin in a tight grip. The vehicle you were next to hid you both from view, everyone on the beach none the wiser to what was happening in the parking lot. Your feet tripped over one another as he forced you back, trapping you between him and the metal contraption.

“Is that what you came up with? You think that pathetic Pogue is going to pay your bills? Give you a place to stay when that eviction notice is taped to your door?”

“Get…off…of me,” you snarled, finally shoving him away with difficulty.

Your breathing was heavy as you glared at the blond, lips trembling and heart racing at the downright evil glint in his blue eyes. You glanced over his shoulder for any way to get away from him, your frustration growing as he moved closer.

“Color me curious, but is it somehow more dignified to fuck someone like JJ instead of me?”

The jealousy dripping from his every word threw you for a loop, and you weren’t in the right headspace to even linger on how strange that was.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but we’re not like that,” you drunkenly choked out. “I don’t know why you feel like I need to answer to you about my personal choices.”

It had only been thirty minutes ago that you were dancing with your friends. JJ—ever the flirt—had gotten a bit handsy, but it was nothing unusual. He could get handsy with a tree, and you’d merely smiled at the behavior, ignorant to the heated gaze that was hyper focused on you. You hadn’t even realized he’d been following you when you went to get a drink from Hayward’s truck.

“Butt out of my life already. You’ve already done enough,” you hissed at him, moving to get past him when he stopped you.

“We’re not done talking-.”

His words were interrupted by your hand, the sound of the slap echoing in your ears, and he’d just harshly pushed you against the car at your back when a familiar voice interrupted you both.

“Get off of her!”

Kie was suddenly there, helping you in shoving him away, and she looked at Rafe like he’d lost his mind—like she’d bore witness to an even sinister side to him. The blond didn’t seem all that fazed by her presence, barely sparing her a glance as his jaw clenched, his eyes on you. Clearly he felt that whatever he was contemplating wasn’t worth it, because without another word—but not without a final scoff—he made his way back to the party on the beach.

Kie wrapped her arms around you when you started to cry.

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

What a loaded question, and you realized that the truth was just on the edge of your tongue. Unable to stop yourself, you threw your arms around her, collapsing under the weight of all your choices and what had led you to make them.

“Kie,” you started, voice trembling in her ear. “I have to tell you something.”

If she was horrified by the truth, she didn’t show it much. You could tell she was shocked as the words tumbled from your lips, her brown eyes stricken and face draining of color. You didn’t know what bothered her more—the drugs, the prostitution, or that both involved Rafe Cameron. As it turns out, it was none of those things.

“Why didn’t…why didn’t you let us help you?” she tearfully wondered, looking between your eyes. “We know how hard it’s been for you, and we wanted to be there for you, but you…you just disappeared. You barely came around, and John B. heard things, but he didn’t want to believe them.”

She whispered that last part, and your chest ached at the thought of your friends hearing about your out of character behavior but feeling powerless to stop it, accepting it as part of your grief.

“Rafe’s a demented asshole,” she finally spoke on the elephant in the room. “...and we won’t let him win, okay?”

There was conviction in Kie’s voice, the kind of conviction that made you want to believe her, and so you nodded at her words.

She helped you straighten, wiping your face and taking you back to the party, quietly promising you that she wouldn’t say anything about any of this to the guys. She stuck to you for the rest of the night, and a week later, she made good on her promise, her parents shaking your hand as they welcomed you to their staff.

“We could always use the extra hands,” Mrs. Carrera told you one Friday evening. “It gets crazy busy, especially on the weekends.”

All the noise in the restaurant only validated her statement.

You’d been working at The Wreck for a week, and while it was nothing like what Rafe had been paying you, it was a job. It was a means of earning your own money that didn’t involve lowering yourself to the likes of Rafe Cameron. It was grueling, sure, and you sometimes wondered if it was truly worth the money, but then you’d think of the alternative, and you’d decide that it was worth something and that’s what mattered.

You hadn’t been paying that much attention when you approached your last table for the night, looking up from the apron at your waist and stopping in your tracks.

“Hey, I didn’t know you worked here too,” Topper said, a fairly neutral greeting.

Topper may have been just as much of an asshole as his friends, but he at least played nice for the public. Your gaze traveled around the table, quickly looking away when it connected with a familiar blue.

“It’s…a fairly new gig,” you finally said, getting your notepad ready.

“Hey, if you’re going to use your friends for anything, might as well use them to become a productive member of society,” he told you, his tone now making you frown.

Opting to ignore the comment, you asked them what they wanted. You didn’t make eye contact with Rafe when he gave you his order, hand unsteady as you wrote it down. When you left them to go and get their drinks, you weren’t surprised to hear the scrape of a chair behind you. You were focused on rounding the counter, reaching for some clean glasses.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

You didn’t forget your last encounter with the rich blond, tempted to ignore his presence altogether, but you were unfortunate enough to know how Rafe operated. Pausing in your movements, you turned to look at him, not surprised at all by the unhappy look on his face.

“I’m working, Rafe. What does it look like?”

You eyed the way his jaw ticked, finger gently tapping against the counter as he simply…stared you down. You glanced away, realizing that he didn’t have any power over you anymore. No, you weren’t completely out of the woods, but you had a secured source of income, and you’d happily struggle and scrape over sleeping with Rafe ever again.

“Go find some other struggling girl to take advantage of,” you finally said to him, grabbing their drinks and making your way to their table without a backwards glance.

Working at The Wreck was hard work, and no matter how many shifts you covered and how many tips you got, it was still long and hard work for half the money Rafe had ever paid you. You knew this when Kie came to you about the job, but on the other side of it, you were so beyond grateful for it. You were still stressed, of course, your monetary problems not going away anytime soon, but it was the normal stress of the average working twenty-something.

It wasn’t the kind of worry that came from a violent and abusive lover.

Rafe had been by the restaurant a few times since that day, and each time was more nerve-wracking than the last. Sometimes you served him, sometimes you didn’t, but it didn’t really matter because his gaze always found its way to you either way. On the days when Kie worked too, she’d ask you if you wanted her to do something about him, but you always declined.

After all, what reason would you have her give to her parents for kicking out the son of Ward Cameron who—to their knowledge—hadn’t done anything to warrant it?

Maybe you should’ve listened to Kie though. While you didn’t know if that would’ve changed things, you at least would have felt better about attempting to do something. Perhaps it was the mere sight of watching you work—watching you earn money independent of him—that made him snap, made him drop all pretenses completely. Barring him from the restaurant while you were there might’ve triggered some out of sight, out of mind response. It might’ve forced him to slowly get over whatever this thing was that he had about you.

It might have…

…and it also might not have done shit. Perhaps nothing would’ve changed, and you still would’ve found yourself tearfully staring at Kie’s mom as you took off your apron for the last time.

It was a normal Saturday when the texts and emails came through. The busiest day of the week, the most packed the restaurant ever would be for the next six days, and you’d been placing some fries down in front of some family’s kid when the noise in the restaurant…changed. You hadn’t been able to pinpoint how it changed, but if you did your best, it was like the chatters went from excitement about their food or whatever happened during the week to something else entirely.

One single thing that everyone was talking about.

You weren’t getting paid to mind your patrons’ business, but you started to think differently about that when the people at the table you were next to started to heavily eye you. The whole restaurant was loud with hushed chatter, so you couldn’t hear what they were saying, but the glances between the phones in their hands and you had you frowning.

You were slowly glancing around—realizing that that table wasn’t the only one—when you were yanked by your arm off the floor.

“What are you doing? What’s going on?” you worriedly wondered the moment Kie had you hidden from view.

The look on her face was hard to read, but her parted lips and wide eyes told you that she was horrified. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, seemingly unable to get the words out before slamming it shut, swallowing. The combination of her expression, her silence, and the lack of silence out there had a ball of dread forming deep in your gut.

“Kie,” you softly said. “What…what’s wrong?”

It took her a moment to speak.

“It’s Rafe,” she softly said.

Your confusion only grew, still not quite understanding. 

“What happened? Is he bothering you? Did…he do something to you?” you hesitantly asked, fearful that your former tormentor had turned his sights onto your friend.

“Not to me.”

That simple sentence started to put the pieces together, and you turned your face towards the front of the restaurant, recalling the stares and whispers and listening to the excited chatter. Your skin grew cold, goosebumps erupting all over you, and that dread was long gone. It was instead replaced by nausea.

“He sent everyone something…”

“No,” you heard yourself whisper.

“...a video.”

You turned to her with wide eyes, shaking your head in disbelief. Glancing down, you caught sight of her phone in her hand, and before Kie could stop you, you’d snatched it out of her grip. You moved out of her reach as she extended her arm, desperately trying to protect you, but it was too late.

You felt like you were weighed down by bricks as you stared at the two familiar faces on the screen.

It had to have been taken months ago, during one of the first few times you’d slept with him. You both were in Ward’s bedroom, and you remembered the day all too well, recalling the feel of his palm striking your skin and his voice in your ear before pulling your head down to his lip. Of course, it was that one and not one of the ones where he’d held you down and forced you to take his thrusts.

Your hand was empty, not even realizing when Kie had taken it back, simply staring into space at the memory of what was on that screen.

“Y/N, when my parents find out—and they’re going to find out—they…”

Her words died in the air at the sound of footsteps behind you, and you flinched when you heard a familiar voice call your name. Mrs. Carerra didn’t sound happy, and her expression fared no better when you turned around. You couldn’t stop your tears from spilling over as she gestured for you to follow her further into the back of the restaurant. You knew what was coming, what Kie was trying to prepare you for.

It was what Rafe wanted, after all…and he’d gotten it.

It was hours later when you were sitting with your back against your door, your phone turned off, overwhelmed by the influx of missed calls and messages from your friends. You’d only gotten a glimpse at them before finding your head bent inside of your toilet. Every single one of them bar Kie were shocked, their horror and confusion clear as day through their words. Only Pope had eventually sent a text that asked if you were okay.

…and the truth was that you weren’t.

You were so far from okay.

Rafe had won, he’d gotten exactly what he wanted, and even though Mrs. Carerra had expressed sympathy for your plight—more angry at the situation than anything else—she’d still had no choice but to let you go. Every other business in town valued the Cameron family way too much, and the only place that had been willing to hire you had been swayed by Rafe too in the worst manner possible.

It was well after midnight when your door shook from harsh knocks. You hadn’t moved in hours, just blankly staring at the wall, and you closed your eyes at the sound, positive it was one of your friends. You didn’t have the strength to face them, to answer questions and either break down or pretend you felt far better than you actually did.

You did, however, have the strength to face Rafe, your gaze lifting when his voice met your ears, demanding that you open the door.

His fist was still in the air when you swung it open, looking at him like he was something you’d find on the bottom of your shoes. He looked as put together as ever, completely unfazed by what he’d done. And why wouldn’t he be? This wouldn’t hurt his reputation and success in this town a bit. If nothing else, the video would have even more girls falling at his feet, but for some reason he didn’t seem to want that.

He preferred to force your hand instead.

“What is wrong with you?” you tearfully asked him, throat tight.

He didn’t respond right away, touching his tongue to his lip as his gaze roamed behind you.

“You gonna let me in?”

Your eyes almost popped out of your sockets, and he gave a haughty laugh.

“It’s not like I’ve left you with much of a choice, now, have I?”

He sounded so…proud of himself, and all you could do was cry as he brushed past you. He closed the door for you, noticing that you were struggling to move, and he kept his hand on the wood, his chest grazing your back as he pressed his face into your hair. You heard him deeply inhale, and you squeezed your eyes shut.

“I told you how this would end,” he whispered. “I gave you a chance to be smart about this.”

You went to move away from him, but his other hand shot out to grip your arm.

“You’re the one who made things way more difficult than they needed to be.” he continued. “We had a good thing going…and then you had to go and get sensitive and sentimental.”

When he forced you to face him, you kept your eyes on the collar of his shirt. The silence stretched as you refused to look at him, and you eventually heard Rafe heave a sigh. He let your arm go, and you watched him reach into his pocket, disappointed but not surprised by the roll of one hundred dollar bills he pulled out. When he straightened, he took your hand and placed the money in your palm, clasping your hands together.

A few more tears escaped when his fingers threaded through yours.

“Do you still feel like fighting this?” he quietly asked. “Let me know, right now, because I have all the time—and money—in the world.”

He slowly pulled you closer.

“You don’t.”

You shakily exhaled, reluctantly lifting your gaze to meet his own. You stared at one another for what felt like too long, and when he leaned in, taking your silence as defeat, you let him kiss you. It was a salty kiss, your own tears mixing in, but Rafe didn’t seem to mind, moving his lips against yours with a growing smile. His arm snaked its way around your waist, and the animalistic noise he let out told you just how excited he was to have you back under his thumb.

The couch seemed sufficient enough for him, bringing you both to it as he peeled your clothes off. You shuddered as the air hit your naked skin, thoughtlessly moving closer to his own body heat, and Rafe pressed a kiss to your shoulder as he laid you down. It felt like ages since you’d last slept with him, but you knew that wasn’t why you were trembling.

You were trembling because you finally realized you were sleeping with a monster. Before, Rafe had just been an opportunistic asshole to you. Rich, spoiled, selfish, the list went on, but now he was so much more than that. He was now someone who’d raped you on more than one occasion, and who had proved that he’d do anything to make you completely reliant on no one but him.

How else could he ensure that you’d never leave him? Never have any other choices but him? You’d eventually have to leave Outer Banks one day, you knew that to be true if you ever wanted a life independent of him, but that video could follow you around for the rest of your life, and very probably would.

When Rafe sheathed himself inside of you, stretching you out in a way that was regularly familiar to you, you gasped. The blond wasted no time in adopting a steady pace, fucking you hard against your couch, his fingers pressing into the arm of it. His grunts were soft in your ears, and despite your combined hatred and fear of him, you weren’t able to swallow down the whimpers that escaped your lips too.

You didn’t know what kind of hard on Rafe had for fucking someone he deemed so far beneath him, even more so to go through so much trouble of forcing you right back into his bed. You didn’t understand it one bit, and part of you never wanted to. You didn’t want to understand a thing that went on inside of his head, didn’t want to understand the thought process behind doing what he’d done to you.

His fingers scraped down your thigh before yanking you forward as he sat up some, looking down to where his cock disappeared into you. He was focused on the sight, lips parting as he panted from above you. He didn’t lean back down until your leg was over his shoulder, preventing you from moving much as he used you to chase his high, hips repeatedly curving against yours and forcing you to grip the couch.

“I missed this pussy so much,” he murmured, lips grazing the corner of your mouth as he spoke. “You drive me crazy, you know that?”

You hadn’t before, but you did, now.

When his hand landed on your throat, it didn’t hurt, but his thumb applied just enough pressure to keep you alert.

“I’ll stop calling your friends dirty Pogues if that makes you feel better,” he whispered, a gentle kiss from his lips to yours. “...but you still belong to me.”

Pity Party

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: NON-CON/DUB-CON (+ mentions of), toxic/abusive relationship, mentions of manipulation, dad!Rafe, established Rafe x reader

➥ While this can absolutely be read as a stand alone piece, it is also the much requested follow up to my WTPO series. I hope this doesn't disappoint!

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics

summary: You became the envy of every woman in Kildare County the day you became Mrs. Rafe Cameron.

⭑

You slid along the floor using your knees, hand occupied by an even tinier one as your son unsteadily put one foot in front of the other. Your lips were pulled into a smile as you watched him, your free hand hovering behind his back for when he very likely would fall. Your other son was occupied with a snack, and when—as expected—the youngest one’s legs gave out, you scooped him up with a giggle.

“Look at you,” you cooed. “You’re going to be sprinting by this weekend.”

His cherubic face smiled back at you, lips wet with drool, and you wiped his mouth with a smile. Your oldest—now done with his Goldfish—was currently tugging on your dress, and when you looked down at him, he had a wide grin on his face.

“I wanna play with him…”

His soft voice had your own expression softening, and you quietly told him ‘okay’, taking a seat right on the floor where you were formerly standing. You emptied your hands, letting your son crawl around and slap at the ground as his brother followed him, face so close to his as he whispered things to him that he didn’t quite understand yet. You let your mind wander, warmth blooming in your chest as you thought about how…sweet they were.

There had been a time where you feared they wouldn’t be.

…and as you stared at them, you almost felt bad for ever thinking they could be anything less than angels, but it couldn’t be helped. They were children, and there were very few things in this world that were more innocent than children. They both came out squirming and pudgy and perfect—screaming their heads off and only calming once they were in your arms. They came into this world looking at you with the kind of eyes that had never experienced or done a single bad thing in their life.

They were children…babies…

…but they were Rafe’s babies.

And as much as you would like to, you would never be able to forget how they both came to be here. Fighting off Rafe Cameron was hard enough when you were going through a tumultuous breakup, but it became damn near impossible once he managed to get a ring on your finger and a prison around you in the form of a fancy house. You looked down at the large rock, a pang going through your chest at the sight of a simple gold band below it.

The wedding had been the grand fanfare it was expected to be, serving it’s purpose of making you the envy of every woman in Kildare County. Your oldest son—having been an only child at the time—was pulled down the aisle in a wagon with a pillow in his lap that contained the rings. Rose had gushed over you in the dressing room, long having convinced herself no woman would ever marry Rafe and she’d never get to experience this. Your father had cried as he handed you off to your husband to be, and tears had kissed your own eyes but just for an entirely different reason.

Your dress was made for a princess, and your veil was made for an angel, and your makeup was made for a doll. Everything was perfect, everything going off without a hitch. Absolutely nothing—not a single thing—had gone wrong, and even though by that point you’d slowly started to accept your fate…something in you had hoped. For what? You weren’t entirely sure.

You’d hoped that some crazy ex girlfriend of Rafe’s would stand up and object. You’d hoped that your brother would go against your wishes and drag you away from it all. Hell, you’d even hoped that someone would choke on their spit and require an ambulance. Deep down though, you’d known what you really hoped for.

You had hoped that Rafe would do the right thing…and let you go.

It was a silly hope. Rafe Cameron had gone through entirely too much trouble to ensure you’d never leave him, even going as far as threatening to take your son away from you. He—both of them—was the only good thing to come out of this. From the first moment you laid eyes on him, you’d wanted him all for yourself and far away from Rafe. The brunette simply didn’t deserve him, and you had no doubt that Rafe would agree, but his selfishness outweighed any thought of doing what was right. That had always been the case.

You didn’t know why you thought your wedding day might be any different.

Rafe moments away from chaining you to him forever? There was no shot in hell of him walking away from that, and you sighed at how naively hopeful you’d been that day. The sound of your oldest son’s laughter pulled you from your thoughts, and you looked over just in time to see him jump to his feet, promptly sprinting towards the foyer. You weren’t worried, knowing exactly who it was that could elicit such a reaction from him.

You swallowed at the sound of Rafe’s voice, taking your 11-month old into your arms.

“...and how were my boys?”

He came into view as he said that, the messy haired little boy upside down in his arms as he kicked his feet and laughed.

You knew the question wasn’t meant for you.

“I was bad,” your son told him, and you fought back a smile, knowing why he said that.

Rafe’s gaze met yours, and the smile that threatened to ghost over your lips was gone. He merely smirked at the sight, rolling his eyes and turning his attention back to the boy in his arms.

“Bad? Oh no,” he chuckled. “Why were you bad?”

“I accidentally spilled juice on mommy’s dress.”

Your son’s words came out small, slurring together a bit with his slight lisp. You’d told him that it was fine—accidents happen—but you knew why he was so hung up on it. As awful as Rafe treated you behind closed doors, he treated you a million times better for the whole world to see. He was smart that way, and the whole world included your children. They saw their dad treat mommy like a princess—none the wiser to what the true nature of your relationship was really like—and so they followed suit.

An offense against you—no matter how small—was especially heinous.

“Oh that is bad,” Rafe murmured, setting him down on his feet. “Guess we’ll have to buy her a new one, huh?”

He ruffled his hair, and your son beamed at the thought of going shopping.

You avoided Rafe’s gaze as he neared you, an impressive feat when he came to kneel down before you. Your youngest was squirming in your arms—babbling—and you swallowed when Rafe reached out to lightly squish his cheeks. He pressed his lips to his tiny forehead just as his hand landed on your own cheek, and only then did you look at him.

Rafe stared at you for what felt like a long time, expression unreadable. Your oldest was going on about something behind him that neither of you were giving too much attention to. His blue eyes looked between yours, studying you, and you could smell his cologne. After what felt like too long, his pink lips finally curved into that haughty half smile you were used to seeing.

It never not made you want to smack it right off of his face.

“...and how was mommy today?” he quietly asked.

There were a thousand things you wanted to say to him.

You wanted to say that mommy cried in the bathroom because she still had thoughts of leaving sometimes even at the loss of her own children, but then she’d remember how much she loved them and couldn’t live without them and the guilt would set in. You wanted to tell him that mommy’s thigh still hurt from where he’d sank his teeth into it the night before for daring to tell him she still hated him sometimes. You even started to tell him that mommy had rare moments here and there where she’d momentarily forget their history and find herself content in this big house with her children and fancy ring until she remembered how her children got here and what said house and ring represented.

You didn’t say any of that though.

Instead, you merely blinked at Rafe, and told him what you always did.

“Mommy was fine.”

The vase narrowly missed Rafe’s head, his quick reflexes making your heart sink with disappointment. Your own quick thinking had you frantically looking around for something else to throw at him, but his feet moved faster than your brain, and he was nearing you before you made up your mind. Unable to stomach being around him, right now, you hurriedly sprinted to the other side of the room. You paid no mind to the way he called your name, a blend of anger and exasperation there.

“Are you done…?”

You didn’t look at him, keeping your angry gaze on the floor. Besides, you didn’t have to in order to know what he looked like. You could imagine it perfectly—steely blue eyes cold and intently focused on you, hands on his hips and jaw clenched so hard you’d swear it was about to break. When you finally did glance at him, you were proven right.

“This little…” he waved his hand about. “...tantrum. You’re finished?”

“Fuck you,” you whispered.

You couldn’t hold in your tears, and they spilled over without your permission. Rafe sucked his teeth at the sight, and when he took a step towards you, you made to leave the living room completely. Your sons were with your mom—they would be the whole weekend—because that was the plan. They would stay with grandma for a few days while you went to Charlotte to visit Pope at school. Rafe was supposed to be handling business with Ward, anyway.

He was not supposed to be sabotaging your plans and canceling car rentals and flights and ruining your entire weekend.

Rafe stopped you before you could get far, and you didn’t even attempt to get away, too defeated and upset to smack him square across the face like you wanted. His fingers dug into your skin, and you wondered if a light bruise would be there in the morning. You could tell by the way he held you that he was upset, but you didn’t understand what he had to be upset about. It had been four years since Rafe started this fucked up dynamic he called a family and over two since you’d reluctantly said ‘I do’. You even gave him another son…and yet…

It was clear now that he still didn’t trust you.

Sure, you had the stray thought or two here and there about escaping, but when it was all said and done, those were just thoughts. Your children meant too much to you to just take off, and even if you ever got to that point one day where you’d happily sacrifice their chance to grow up with a mother just to have your own freedom, Rafe would never let that happen. Your fate was sealed from the very moment he’d decided you were it for him.

“I haven’t seen my brother in months. It’s his last year of school, and I didn’t want the next time I see him to be at his Goddamn graduation,” you spat, lips trembling. “You said you were okay with it!”

“Yeah, I was,” Rafe replied in a tone that hinted at more to come.

You were right.

“...but then I remembered that this would be the first time we’d be apart for a distance more than thirty miles and how way up there in Charlotte you could disappear to wherever you wanted and-.”

“You wouldn’t have to worry about any of that if we had a normal relationship,” you cut him off, a sneer on your lips. “You wouldn’t have to worry about the possibility of me running away from you if you’d never hurt me and raped me and damn near threatened me into marrying you.”

At those words, Rafe let you go as if you burned him, and you reminded yourself how much Rafe hated to be reminded of why you were really here. You were positive he sometimes convinced himself that this relationship was as real as it could be—the perfect parents with the perfect children and the perfect marriage. After all, it was what everyone on the outside saw when they were looking in.

The difference between the two of you it seemed was that you knew it was all pretend.

Rafe liked to believe that it wasn’t.

“All of that aside…do you really think I’d leave them?”

Your question came out whispered, and you didn’t miss the slight twitch in Rafe’s face. Leave them…not leave him. Rafe was smart in knowing that knocking you up would be the only thing to truly prevent you from leaving, and yet he absolutely hated to be reminded of it. To be reminded that it was not—and never would be—him keeping you here.

His expression morphed, a shadow passing over his features as he glanced away, shoving a hand into his pocket.

“I can’t take that chance,” was all he said, making more tears spill over. “Pope’s not going anywhere. You can always see him another time.”

You pulled your lip between your teeth in anger, and when he reached for you, he was stopped by a harsh slap to the cheek. Your lips wouldn’t stop trembling, and you just stared at him as he rubbed his face.

“You have taken so much from me, Rafe,” you mumbled, rolling your eyes at him. “If your goal is to make sure we’re both absolutely miserable…then keep it up.”

You turned away from him, refusing to spare him another look as you made your way upstairs to unpack your suitcase.

Most days in your marriage were okay. They weren’t awful, and they weren't’ exactly anything you’d jump at the chance to relive. They were simply just…okay. On those days, Rafe would wake you up with a kiss, sometimes more than that, and you’d start your day—usually something that consisted of preparing for your children to wake up. They made those days stand a chance at being somewhat enjoyable, and you thought to yourself that maybe one day when they were old enough, you’d tell them how much they did for you without even knowing.

On the days where your marriage wasn’t okay, you were usually overcome with how you really felt about Rafe. Those days didn’t come as often as they used to—a fact you didn’t like to let your mind linger on—but when they did, they usually ended in your tears.

…and Rafe pinning you down and just taking what he wanted.

Rafe had felt entitled to your body long before he put the ring on your finger, but after you took his last name, his entitlement went to an entirely new level. You recalled a day where you had the house to yourselves and how silly you’d been to think Rafe would respect your wish to be alone.

“Do you know what this means?” he’d harshly asked, squeezing your left hand as he held it up for both of you to see.

The 4-carat marquise solitaire glinted under the bright kitchen light.

“It means you’re my wife, it means you’re mine,” he’d hissed, getting in real close and touching your nose with his. “Do you get how patient I’ve been? How patient I am?”

You’d shrank away from him, wincing at the slight pain in your left hand.

“I know this hasn’t been easy for you, but it’s been years,” he’d told you. “There’s a ring on your finger and two little boys walking around with my face. You need to suck it up!”

The counter had been harsh against your stomach as he bent you over it.

The good days in your marriage were even more rare, and even those ended in you feeling sad for yourself. It was usually a whole day of your boys keeping a smile on your face, the feeling so infectious that even Rafe couldn’t make it go away. And that’s how you’d find yourself smiling at him and playing with your children together and actually acting like a family. Only…on those rare days…it wasn’t acting. For just several hours, everything that Rafe was and everything he’d done would be so far from your mind.

You’d find yourself bathing your youngest together—your oldest only listening to you when it was time to wash behind his ears—cooing over the baby that was just shy of turning one years old. You’d let your son run into your arms as he hid from the ‘tickle monster’, playfully pushing at Rafe’s chest as you protected the three year old from him. Sometimes you’d even fall asleep with your head so close to Rafe’s lap as he read to them, your son begging you both to stay until he fell asleep.

Of all the days in your marriage that you’d anticipated being the hardest, the ‘good’ days were not among them. Reality would set in during the morning, sometimes even that same night, and your chest would ache as you held back tears because what you and Rafe had was not real. It wasn’t a real marriage, and you weren’t a real family, and on those days where you forgot that, the truth just hit so much harder. All of the anger and disappointment would come back…and then the fear would set in.

It scared you how easily you could slip into that headspace and live in some alternate reality where Rafe was a good husband and your children hadn’t been the product of rape and you didn’t have errant thoughts of what it would be like to be free of him. It scared you how good it felt to forget it all, how a day might come where instead of finding yourself slipping into that mindset, you just…chose it.

It would be so easy.

…but you felt like you owed it to yourself to hate him forever.

Sometimes he made hating him so easy…and then other times so, so hard.

“They’re so sweet to you,” he murmured in the low lighting, both of your kids fast asleep in their room. 

You’d been trying to find sleep of your own, but Rafe’s phone call with Ward left you both up long after you wanted to be. You were unfortunately wide awake when slid in beside you, and your unopened eyes didn’t fool Rafe in the slightest. He knew you were awake.

“I would hope so,” you murmured, staring at the back of your eyelids as he lightly traced patterns into your satin covered stomach.

Your husband chuckled to himself.

“I mean they look at you like you hung the moon,” he quietly continued. “Especially your shadow…”

He was referring to your oldest.

“I’m barely there for him whenever you’re in the same room,” he whispered. “He’s happy that I’m home and he hugs me, but then it’s straight back to mommy.”

You slowly opened your eyes as Rafe’s hand became flat against your stomach, gently rubbing it.

“He treats you like a princess…”

You met his gaze at that, and you couldn’t quite place the look in Rafe’s eyes.

“...and I’m especially happy about it on days when I don’t.”

You sighed at that, staring at the ceiling.

“I’m glad that he’s nothing like me…”

You remembered Rafe saying something similar years ago before the boy in question had even been born, and you blinked as he leaned in, gently ghosting his lips over your cheek. You were tempted to push him away, but then you asked yourself if you wanted to start a fight so late in the night. Instead, you turned your head to face Rafe, your lips a hair’s width away from his own.

“I’m glad he’s nothing like you too,” you whispered.

You didn’t miss the way his face fell at that, a tick in his jaw that told you your words had the desired effect. Instead of saying something along the lines of what you both knew he wanted to say, Rafe merely heaved a sigh, still gently rubbing your stomach. He suddenly pushed himself up onto his elbow, looking down at you.

A smirk ghosted over his lips.

“I want another baby.”

Those words were the last thing you’d been expecting, and your eyes widened just a tad.

“...what?”

“Let’s try for a girl this time,” he suggested, and realizing that he was indeed serious, you sat up.

His hand fell away from your stomach.

“This time?” you murmured, more to yourself than him. “I don’t recall trying for anything the previous times.”

The mention of what he did to you had Rafe going silent, and when you looked at him, his nostrils were flaring.

“It can be different this time-.”

“How?” you wondered, frowning at him. “How will it be different this time? The only time I touch you is when I’m forced to, and I don’t know, that sounds pretty fucking familiar to me.”

Rafe’s hand had circled around your chin before you had time to react—he was sitting up now too—and you both just cooly stared at each other. He looked like he wanted to hurt you, and you stared back, just waiting for him to prove you right. He seemed to be toying with the thought, and after a few moments, he slowly exhaled through his nose.

His thumb brushed over your bottom lip, his blue eyes following the action.

A million thoughts were racing through his mind, that much you could tell by the emotions that flickered over his features. Eventually he settled on one, pulling his lip between his teeth.

“You’re not always unhappy…”

It was said like a statement, but there was a lilt there that told you he wanted an answer.

“No,” you eventually responded, honestly. “Not always.”

He nodded.

“...but I’m unhappy more than I’m happy.”

He closed his eyes at that, and you swallowed.

“What did you expect, Rafe? Sure, four years is a lot, but it’s also not when I think about everything you did to me.”

He dropped his hand and pushed himself to his feet. You watched him stand there, staring at the wall with his hands on his hips.

“...and what makes it worse is that you’re not even sorry. I know how much you want me to ‘just get over it’, but how am I expected to get over it when we both know you’d do it all over again so long as it got you the same result?” you choked out. “You’re not sorry for any of it.”

You blinked away tears.

“...and now you’re mad at me so much because I won’t roll over and play house.”

You saw his shoulders heave, and you could tell how much this conversation was frustrating him. Rafe really hated to be reminded of his own actions, hated to be reminded of the fact that your relationship was where it was because of him. You couldn’t find it in yourself to care. You were the one trapped in this gilded cage…not him.

“So, if you want another baby…” you quietly started. “...either something needs to change…or you just embrace the beast we both know you can be.”

His eyes snapped to yours at that, and as much as it made your heart skip a beat, Rafe rarely scared you anymore. You’d seen him and experienced him at his absolute worst. There really wasn’t much he could do to you anymore that would shock you…and he knew it. 

His baby blues glinted dangerously, and you bit your tongue.

He did the opposite of what you expected, and you watched him turn away from you to leave the room. You didn’t relax, knowing he’d come back, but you did heave a tired sigh, telling yourself that sleep couldn’t come fast enough.

Rafe’s hand tightened around your throat as he kissed you, the alcohol on your tongue making the kiss taste sweet. The world was moving so slow around you, and every place that Rafe touched felt like you were being gently electrocuted. Deep in the crevices of your mind, you knew that something was wrong. You hadn’t kissed Rafe like this in years, not since the early days of your relationship when you thought you might have loved him, and butterflies were in your stomach at one look from him.

You recalled the sight of your empty wine glass on the carpet, the rest of the red wine you didn’t drink staining the white fabric.

Your kids were asleep and the house was quiet and you were kissing your husband like you used to—back when he wasn’t your husband. Rafe had your back to the wall just barely on the inside of your bedroom, your hand struggling to reach out to the door. Rafe grabbed it, threading his fingers through your own, and you made a slight noise of protest.

He made a shushing noise into the kiss.

“Just relax…”

Relax.

That word triggered something in you, and you pressed your other hand to his chest. You were far too relaxed to be sober, and considering you only had one glass of wine, you knew that other substances were at play here. You recalled Rafe voicing his desire for another baby just the other day…and you recalled the slight back and forth it’d created. You expected one of two things out of Rafe, but neither of them included a scenario where you were too inebriated to properly fight back against him.

There was something especially sinister about Rafe creating this false sense of consent.

His lips traveled down towards your neck as he bent his head, and you felt like you didn’t have control over your body as you threw your head back. You shakily exhaled when both of his hands descended towards your waist, lifting you and forcing you towards the California king. When he settled you both onto it, all pretense was gone.

“Don’t you want a little girl?” he whispered against your skin, his fingers dancing along the place from where your shirt had ridden up. “Hmm? I know you get sick of being with just us boys.”

You made a noise that was unintelligible even to your ears, pushing at his head, but it was of no use. Whatever he slipped into your drink clearly wasn’t in his, Rafe having all of his strength and wits about him as he pinned you down. He kissed you again—slow—as his hands circled around your wrists. It took your breath away, and your lashes fluttered when he descended.

“A princess for my princess…”

You reached out to place a hand on the bed to steady yourself. Although you knew it was the room spinning, not you, and so focused on that, you didn’t even realize what Rafe was doing until the cool air you’d briefly felt against your core was replaced by his mouth. The action made your back arch, and—against your will—you reached down to press your hand against his head.

He hummed in between your thighs.

“You never let me do this anymore,” you heard him whisper, his breath against your skin before he dived back in.

To be fair, you never let him do anything, but especially this. It was too intimate, too loving, and those words were so far from the true nature of your relationship it wasn’t even funny. After all, Rafe was now at a place where he had to drug you just to get you to stop fighting against him. You found it interesting because he never minded the fight before. In fact, you’d even say that some part of him enjoyed it.

You wondered what had changed.

His head moved back and forth between your thighs, and it made you squirm. One of Rafe’s hands reached up to dig into your leg, holding you still. The other found your hand, and you were unable to remember that you didn’t like holding his hand. Another gesture that you felt was too intimate, something Rafe always liked to pretend that your relationship was.

Just when you were on the brink of coming all over his tongue, your husband pulled away, but not before pressing a quick kiss to the inside of your thigh. With stars just barely floating in your vision, you laid there, eyes falling closed as you fought to regulate your breathing.

A voice in your head told you that you didn’t want this, and that you needed to get up…but you couldn’t find the strength to.

When Rafe’s hands were on you again, they were pulling away every piece of fabric they touched, and you couldn’t help the tears that kissed your eyes. Being forced to feign compliance in your own assault somehow hurt a thousand times worse than if Rafe had simply grabbed you and held you down. You wondered if this made it easier on him, and you thought about how much Rafe hated being reminded of the things he did to you.

It was like it hurt him to remember it that way, to acknowledge it for what it was.

When he slid into you, you couldn’t help the small whimper you let out, eyes rolling as he stretched you out. Rafe’s hands were on you, pulling you closer, and as if your arms had a mind of their own, you threw them around him. His chest was pressed to yours as he thrust into you, and you pressed your face into the crook of his neck. He cursed when he sank into you again, and your toes curled.

“You’re so mean to me, you know that?”

One of his hands tangled in the hair at the nape of your neck.

“...have to drug my own wife just to get her to fuck me…”

Your nails dragged along the expanse of his back, and Rafe hummed at the feeling. You’d forgotten what it felt like to lie beneath him and just let him have his way with you. It felt like so long since he hadn’t had to force you down and take his cock despite what you may have wanted. Although, your current position wasn’t all that different, but you couldn’t ignore how relaxed you were from whatever he’d slipped you.

Rafe shifted, hands pressed into the mattress on either side of your head. His blue eyes glinted in the low lighting, and you blearily blinked up at him as he gazed down at you. He leaned in, pressing his forehead to yours while still holding your gaze. Your lips parted at a particularly hard thrust, and the corner of his lips curved upwards at the sight.

Deep in the back of your mind, you knew you didn’t want this, but it was for so many reasons that you were struggling to remember. For the time being, all you could focus on was the curve of his cock as he repeatedly pushed it into you and how good it made you feel. One of your legs hooked around his waist, and Rafe’s perfect teeth winked at you as he grinned.

“I missed this, beautiful,” he whispered. “You know that?”

The bed jostled from your movements, and Rafe glanced down between you to watch himself disappear into you. 

“I can’t wait to fill you up,” he told you, making your heart skip a beat and reminding you of how and why you’d found yourself in this position in the first place. “Can’t wait to see you swollen and round again and fucking glowing.”

You murmured his name, but you couldn’t tell if it was in protest or not.

Your mind was all over the place, and when Rafe’s hips curved into yours again, you arched your chest up into his. Sweat clung to your frame, and you briefly wondered how made you would be at him in the morning. You knew this wouldn’t be his only attempt—Rafe always proving to be more than thorough when trying for a baby—and you now weakly wondered about having to be cautious of the food in your own house.

You could tell when he was close, his thrusts becoming sloppy and his breathing picking up. He started  to kiss you more, each kiss becoming  messier and more open mouthed than the last. In your inebriated state of mind, you kissed him back, alarm bells going off deep within your bones. Your own breathing was labored, like you couldn’t get air into your lungs fast enough.

When Rafe came the first time—and you knew that it would be the first of the night—he grunted in your ear as he spilled into you. Your nails were trailing along his skin as he plunged his cock into you, not even stopping when you felt him start to soften, lazily thrusting into your folds. Your own climax was just around the corner when he spoke.

“I will fuck you all night,” he whispered against your cheek, his tone vaguely threatening. “I will fuck you as many times as it takes until you give me what I want.”

He leaned back a bit, his nose touching yours as he tilted his head, eyeing you in a way that made your skin grow cold.

“...and I will do whatever I have to to make you…” he looked between your unfocused eyes. “...agreeable.”

This was so delicious! Another masterpiece!

A Family Affair

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: NON-CON/DUB-CON, STEPCEST, age gap, plus size!reader, infidelity

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics

summary: It's no secret that Rafe doesn't care for his stepmother, so when he suddenly starts being nice to you following his father's neglect, you're relieved to think that you can finally start acting like a family.

⭑

You sighed to yourself as the sound of Ward’s light snores faded behind you, your feet carrying you down the hall as you sought something to drink. It was late, and while you should’ve been asleep alongside the rest of the house, you were wide awake. Your thoughts strayed to your husband, and a familiar pang made your chest ache. Per usual, you attempted to ignore it, but the late hour and solitude prevented you from doing so.

Ward was so busy with business as of late, and while you knew what you were getting into when you married him, you hadn’t anticipated just how often you’d find yourself alone and without him. It wasn’t so bad the first few times you found yourself scarcely seeing him for weeks on end—business eventually letting up and allowing him to spend more time with you before the cycle repeated—but it started to get old after a while. The constant back and forth and ebb and flow of your relationship…

“Don’t you like the nice house? The fancy cars? The semi-annual trips?” was what he’d asked you one day when you brought it up.

At your reluctant nod, he’d merely given you a soft smile and a kiss on the cheek.

“You know it’s never temporary,” he’d murmured against your skin, trailing his fingers down your arm. “Work just pulls me away, sometimes.”

That was almost a year ago, and you were even less used to it, now.

The lifestyle made up for it in some ways, the sex in others, but you never thought you’d find yourself thinking that it was your stepchildren who really brought you so much joy on those days where you wondered if this relationship was fulfilling enough. You smiled into your glass at the thought of them, shaking your head as you remembered something Sarah had said the day before. They were far from perfect—one more so than the other two—but it was in a way that was almost endearing. Most of the time…

You swallowed down a sigh along with your drink as you thought of a familiar dirty blond.

Rafe Cameron was Ward’s only son, and such a title brought along lots of expectations that Rafe ever failed to live up to. You still couldn’t quite tell if Ward expected so much of him or if Rafe just refused to apply himself. You settled on something in between, a little bit of both of that from both of them. It made you sad, sometimes, and over the past few years you’d done your best to help and be there for Rafe, but all of your effort seemed to be in vain.

The twenty year old just didn’t like you…and you wondered if he ever would.

He was never shy about his feelings regarding you and on some level you appreciated the transparency, but on another it did sting a bit. There were moments where you wondered if he simply thought you weren’t good enough for Ward. You quickly learned how shallow Rafe could be, and it wasn’t like you were the thinnest woman out there—far from it, in fact. It definitely wouldn’t surprise you to learn he felt his father could do better in that department, but for some reason, you just didn’t buy that excuse.

The looks he gave you and the cold manner in which he talked to you sometimes made you feel like it was something far more personal than something as mundane as weight. It was moments like these where you realized just how much Rafe’s behavior got to you, and not because it hurt particularly bad, but mostly because you didn’t understand it.

You found yourself entertaining the same kind of thoughts a few nights later when face to face with Rafe, declining his ‘suggestion’ of throwing a little ‘get together’.

The younger man wasn’t happy with the discussion, pressing his tongue to the inside of his cheek—a tell-tale sign of his annoyance you’d come to learn— as he eyed you like you were something he’d find on the bottom of his shoe. With a soft scoff, he folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the back of the couch. You didn’t appreciate the small curve of his lips.

“You realize I'm an adult, right…? And that I technically don’t have to ask you permission for anything…right…?”

You licked your own lips, briefly glancing away with a sigh.

“Is that why you brought it up to me instead of just telling your father what you’re going to do?”

His expression shifted, the smile dropping from his lips, and you watched the way his jaw ticked.

“Ward would flat out tell you no, and you know it. I’m simply telling you no more than ten people. The last ‘get together’ you had here is still a little fresh in all of our minds, and you’re lucky I’m compromising at all after Wheezie found a condom in her room,” you reminded him. “There’s a reason you’re having this conversation with me and not Ward.”

Rafe’s nostrils flared, but he otherwise said nothing.

His silence gave you the opportunity to let out a sigh, stepping towards him. You didn’t miss the way his eyes closely followed the movement, used to him watching your every move. It was like Rafe didn’t trust your very presence, something you were sure he’d be over by now, but time had yet to prove you right.

“I’m on your side, Rafe. You understand that, right?”

He merely looked away from you, and you continued.

“I don’t enjoy you and Ward being at odds. You and I are a whole other conversation, but you and your father? I’m trying to help you help yourself, and you just seem to fight me every step of the way-.”

“You’re not my mother,” the blond coldly interrupted, making you swallow.

It wasn’t his sentiments that surprised you, but that he was actually saying it aloud. You long knew and accepted that Rafe didn’t—and probably wouldn’t ever—see you as such, but you were taken aback by him saying it and also saying it to your face.

“You’re just some thick thirty something piece of ass my dad married because hey…it’s not socially acceptable for a fifty-year old man to marry some twenty-five year old, so a thirty-eight year old is the next best thing he can get without being called a weirdo.”

He said all of this with a casual shrug, throwing his hands up, and you blinked.

You watched him as he straightened himself, slowly approaching you as he sniffed, eyeing you in a way that—for the first time ever—actually made you want to hide away from the world.

“Don’t worry about the party. I’ll just have it somewhere else…”

Rafe didn’t give you time to respond, brushing by you and leaving you to mull over his harsh words alone.

“Oh!”

You clutched your water bottle to you, eyes wide as they landed on Kelce of all people in your kitchen. The dark skinned young man was merely getting a snack, nothing that caused for any kind of alarm, but you simply hadn’t even known he was here. His presence surprised you, and clearly yours surprised him by the way he also looked at you with wide eyes. Although you didn’t understand why.

This was your house, after all…

“How long have you been in the house?” you wondered, moving to the sink to refill your bottle.

“Uh…only about twenty minutes,” was his answer.

You nodded at that, understanding why you hadn’t been privy to his presence. You’d been lounging by the pool for at least forty-five, and when you turned back around, Kelce’s dark eyes met yours, the look on his face unreadable. The silence between you felt awkward for some reason, and you hesitantly took a sip of water, eyeing him with a frown.

“Is Topper here too? Do I need to make extra pasta tonight?”

“Uh, yeah. I mean…yes to the Topper question, and no to the other. We’re not staying,” he said with a shrug just as you heard loud footsteps on the stairs. “I actually think Rafe is chilling at my place tonight.”

“Okay,” you slowly responded with an even slower nod, still unsure about the look on his face.

You were going to ask him if he was alright when another familiar face joined you both, Topper stopping just at the entrance of the kitchen. His brows rose a tad when his gaze landed on you, and whatever look passed over his features had come and gone too fast for you to name.

“Hey, Mrs. Cameron,” he greeted. “Going for a swim?”

You briefly glanced down at your bathing suit, fixing him with a look that had him nodding.

“Right, stupid question…”

You looked between the both of them, curiously and suspiciously, mind running wild with the possibilities of just what could be going on with them.

You settled on weed.

“If you three are smoking up there…”

They both rushed to deny that, frantically correcting you.

“No, no, we’re just…you look very pretty today,” Topper politely said.

The compliment—even if a little backhanded—took you by surprise, having not expected that, at all. You looked between them again, recognizing the appreciative look in Kelce’s gaze at last, and you let out a small snort. It was flattering in the way a compliment from a child was, and you shook your head.

“Thank you, Topper,” you finally replied, moving to leave the kitchen. “I’ll be outside if any of you need anything.”

You hoped that they wouldn’t. Aside from the three of them, the house was empty, and you’d been taking advantage of such all day. A nice glass of lemon water, an engaging book, and a beautiful sky was all the company you needed to relax poolside. You really didn’t want that to be disturbed by college sophomores burning down the kitchen.

As you made your way towards the backdoor, you briefly caught sight of Rafe standing at the top of the stairs, one hand on the railing and the other occupied with his phone. His gaze broke away from the device just as you looked up, and your gazes only connected for a second or two before you were looking away, but not before throwing him a small smile.

You knew he wouldn’t return it.

The rest of your day was spent as peacefully as you hoped, Kelce’s words ringing true when Rafe did eventually leave the house with no intention of returning it seemed. You were done cooking just as Sarah and Wheezie came home, and although Ward partook in supper, he did have to leave early and retire to his study. You got the feeling that he’d be coming to bed late again, and as much as you tried, you couldn’t ignore that annoying tickle in your chest.

A small voice in your head told you there was a fine line between work and spousal neglect, and you’d shaken your head, cursing yourself for being so dramatic. Besides, even if Ward was neglecting you a tad, a million women would kill to be in your position. A few months without proper affection and alone time with your husband was nothing when you considered the lifestyle you were living.

Especially for someone who looked like you.

Your life could be a whole lot worse, and you promptly told yourself to stop acting so spoiled. It was just another rough work patch, something you should be more than used to. Granted, this time seemed to be dragging on longer than the others, but you knew that Ward would be able to step back some time soon and take you on dates and spend time with you and make love to you like he normally did.

You just needed to be patient.

“You really don’t have to help clean up, Rafe.”

That was what you told the younger man as he grabbed the leftover casserole, searching for a tupperware to put it in. You eyed him but not in a way that was thankful or curious but instead in a way that was…perplexed. You’d been eyeing him that way for weeks, now, and you couldn’t find it in you to care if you were being subtle or not.

Gradually—almost too gradually for you to notice in the beginning—Rafe had softened towards you. That might’ve been the wrong word to use, but he was noticeably more agreeable—not necessarily kind—and it had thrown you for a loop from the first moment you noticed it. It was something so small—putting gas back in your car after he’d borrowed it to be exact—but it was also so out of the ordinary for Rafe that you couldn’t help but to linger on it. You’d stood by the door for what felt like minutes, still holding the keys he’d dropped in your hand.

It would’ve been easy to write it off as a one time uncharacteristic display of behavior but then he was asking if you wanted anything before he headed out and was helping you clean up after dinner and was replacing that one thing you were about to run out of before you even had the chance to. You weren’t complaining in the slightest, but you had gone to Ward to ask what he’d said to the younger Cameron to get him to treat you better.

“Nothing, I swear,” Ward had said to you, pulling you into his lap at his desk. “Maybe he’s just realizing how lucky he is to have you.”

You’d resisted the urge to roll your eyes at that, positive that Ward had found a way to put the fear of God into your stepson.

“I helped make the mess, didn’t I?” Rafe drawled, responding to you. “Besides, it’s not like I’ve got plans tonight.”

You frowned at his back at that, finding that incredibly hard to believe. If Rafe wasn’t with his friends, then he was spending his free time with his girlfriend. You’d never officially met her, but you heard him mention her in passing sometimes, and you were positive she was who you’d seen him at The Wreck with once. She was blonde and thin and as stereotypically Kook as one could get. She seemed just Rafe’s type, and wondering if she was out of town or something, you asked him.

He didn’t respond right away, and you almost assumed that you’d overstepped, tried to force this relationship too far too fast, and you'd be confronted with the Rafe you were used to at any moment now. However, the younger man only shrugged, putting the casserole in the fridge.

“She just has other plans tonight…”

The response was vague, but you left it alone, simply nodding.

When Rafe needed to get by you to put the empty dish in the dishwasher, his hand briefly touched the small of your back, and you gave it no mind but you did eye him again as he put more dishes in the dishwasher. Ward may have sworn up and down that he didn’t say anything to Rafe, but you surely didn’t believe him. You supposed that it didn’t matter either way, not particularly picky about whatever forced Rafe to start respecting you.

The other man wasn’t rolling his eyes at you and insulting you and giving you looks that could chill ice. That was all that mattered, and so pleased with Rafe’s forced change of heart, there were moments that you forgot about how tied up Ward was with work. After all, you’d long noted that it was your stepchildren that were the biggest pleasant surprises in your marriage, and now that that included Rafe, you almost didn’t mind that a month turned into two and then into three and eventually four of hardly any affection from your husband. 

Your mind was off of it…until Rafe was mentioning it.

“If I wasn’t so sure that he’s obsessed with you, I’d think he was soft launching a divorce or something…”

You frowned at Rafe’s words, giving him a look that he clearly felt because he looked up from his phone. The look in your eyes must have portrayed your thoughts well because Rafe rolled his eyes, reaching over and touching your shoulder.

“It’s called a joke,” he drawled. “I know how hectic work has been lately. Trust if he could be up under you all the time, he would.”

The way Rafe said that gave you pause, thrown by the slight bitterness you swore you heard there. You’d always had the brief thought that maybe Rafe was just jealous of your relationship with Ward, his desire for the other man’s approval no secret. It wouldn’t be unheard of for a child to envy the part of their parent that couldn’t be shared with them but with a lover or friend instead. Rafe was continuing before you could linger on that thought though.

“I’m just pointing out that work hasn’t ever been this bad before…”

He only just dropped his hand from your shoulder.

“I know he probably hates it as much as you do, but unlike you, he can’t distract himself with Wheezie or Sarah or shopping or days spent by the pool…”

Rafe trailed off, a glint in his eyes that came and went, and you watched as he pulled his lip between his teeth before fixing you with a haughty smile.

“It’ll pass,” he shrugged.

You had never worried that it wouldn’t, but if even Rafe had noticed, you started to wonder if maybe you should.

“Uh…yeah, Rafe’s just upstairs.”

You moved out of the way to let the younger girl in, the ire on her face as clear as day. You watched her as she stomped up the stairs, and you worriedly wondered if you’d done the right thing. What if Rafe wasn’t expecting her? Even worse…what if they were in some kind of fight and she chose to hash it out here? Closing the front door, you quickly made your way to the bottom of the stairs, surprised to hear their voices so clearly.

It was clear to you that he hadn’t let her in his room.

“The whole nonchalant boyfriend thing is getting old, Rafe.”

You blinked at that.

“Every time I want to see you, it’s excuses. You cancel half the plans we make, and when you are with me, your mind is a million miles away,” the blonde girl practically spat. “So, you either don’t have the balls to dump me or there’s someone else.”

Her tone got particularly nasty near the end there.

“...and God knows I would love to see who you’d dare to cheat on me with.”

This conversation felt too personal—too raw—and you slowly backed away just as Rafe let out a cold chuckle. You made your way to the kitchen to finish cooking dinner, the task having been interrupted by the ringing of the doorbell. Your frown deepened as you chopped onions, unsure of what was going on between Rafe and his girlfriend but hoping he had the decency to treat her right.

You mulled over her words, confusion filling you as they played in your mind. Rafe had been spending so much time at home the past few months that you found it hard to believe he’d been putting an ounce of effort into anyone else. The only woman you were sure he was spending a considerable amount of time with was…well…you. The thought made you snort, but it was the truth. It was funny because you were sure that you’d seen more of Rafe than you had your own husband as of late..

So many times you were already asleep when he came to bed, and when you woke up, his side of the bed was empty. There had been quite a few days when Rafe was the only other person at the breakfast table and some days where he was wading in the same pool you were lounging by or just scrolling on his phone while you read on the couch. Ward had long told you he hadn’t said a thing to Rafe about treating you better, and at the time you hadn’t believed him, but you also felt like you knew Rafe well, and you knew he wasn’t the type to do what he didn’t want to do for long—if at all.

You were pulled from your thoughts by the sound of their hushed voices traveling into the kitchen as they moved through the house, tones angry.

“Do not talk about her like that,” Rafe suddenly spat, those words as clear as day, and you paused in what you were doing.

A few more hushed words were angrily exchanged, and it wasn’t long before you heard the door slam.

“Rafe…”

Your disappointed tone was all that met him when he stepped into the kitchen, and he eyed you, a hand in his pocket.

“It’s not what you think,” was all he said. “She’s full of herself, alright? If I’m not in the mood to be around her then I must be cheating.”

You pressed your lips together as he neared the island.

“I don’t know… It sounded like she has every reason to suspect to me.”

Rafe fixed you with a look you couldn’t name, a smirk dancing along his lips.

“Eavesdropping…?”

Now, you rolled your eyes, giving him a pointed look.

“Not on purpose, no, but… Whoever this other girl is, defending her like that to your girlfriend surely won’t earn you any points.”

His laugh took you by surprise, and you looked at him as he leaned his forearms on the island top, looking up at you from beneath his lashes. His hair kissed his forehead.

“I wasn’t defending some ‘other girl’,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “I was defending you.”

You faltered at that, blinking with parted lips.

“She said something about having to talk to you just to see me and…” he shrugged. “I didn’t like it.”

You didn’t know what to say to that, simply settling for ‘oh’.

“Trust me there is no other girl…just you, and it’s not your fault that my stepmom is more interesting to be around than that stuck up bimbo.”

You didn’t like the way he talked about her, but he was patting your hand and leaving the kitchen before you could reprimand him on it.

You weren’t all that surprised to find your living room occupied by familiar faces—more than used to it—but you were taken aback when one of those familiar faces greeted you with a charming grin.

“Hey, Mrs. Cameron…”

Kelce’s tone made you roll your eyes, and you didn’t miss the way Topper lightly hit his arm.

“Afternoon,” you said, a comment about the weather on your lips when the dark skinned boy was suddenly on his feet.

“Let me help you with those,” he hurried to say, taking half of the grocery bags before you had a chance to protest. “They look kind of heavy for you.”

“Oh, it’s not that bad,” you lightly told him.

You supposed that Kelce found himself with a bit of a crush on you—you weren’t stupid—but it was harmless. After all, it manifested in ways such as him complimenting you when he saw you and helping you put groceries away. It was hardly anything to find fault in and complain about. At least, that was how you saw it, but evidently others didn’t agree.

“What the hell are you doing?”

The cold voice had you both pausing, and for a brief moment, you could’ve sworn it was Ward, but no one was more surprised than you to come face to face with Rafe. You blinked in confusion at him, but the blond only had eyes for his friend, those baby blues narrowed in a way you hadn’t seen in some time. He looked at Kelce like he wasn't a friend, and you took a few steps towards him.

“Kelce was just-.”

“I know what Kelce was doing,” was all Rafe said, his tone and few words enough to make the young man in question slink away.

You watched him disappear with a scoff, slowly looking at Rafe again.

“He’s your friend, Rafe. No need to be rude,” you lightly scolded.

The blond rolled his eyes, slowly rolling his head to look at you with a gleam in his eyes that made you freeze for half a second. He’d been so nice to you lately that you sometimes forgot how mean he could be—how mean he could look—but that glint in his gaze was gone just as fast as it came. A smirk ghosted over his lips, and there was nothing humorous about it.

“I need to be rude because he’s my friend,” he said, finally moving to help finish putting up the groceries. “He’s been sniffing around you for months, and you’re just lapping it up.”

You frowned at Rafe, prepared to say something against that when his next words forced you to swallow your words.

“I know my dad’s kind of been…” he slowly ran his gaze over you. “...dropping the ball lately…”

You reared back at that, completely aware of what he meant.

“...but don’t encourage Kelce. You might find it sweet, but he’d fuck you in a heartbeat if he could.”

“Rafe!”

He ignored your outburst, slowly brushing by you as he put some spices up in the cabinet. When you looked over your shoulder, he was nearing you again, and he chuckled when his hand rested on your back.

“He’s my friend,” he softly said, his voice sounding like it was right at your ear. “No one knows what he’s thinking more than me.”

You didn’t doubt that—and you surely didn’t deny it—but you still didn’t appreciate his callous tone and words. You wrapped your arms around yourself as he left the kitchen, taking slow steps to stand at the entrance as he rejoined his friends. You couldn’t see them, but you could hear them, and you pressed your lips together at the sound of Kelce’s apologies.

“You know he doesn’t mean anything by it,” Topper’s voice echoed. 

You chose to tune them out, turning away to gather the empty bags.

Rafe’s words—and the look he gave you—took up your thoughts, and there was a  bitter taste in your mouth that you swallowed down. You didn’t appreciate his commentary on your romantic relationship with his father, both because it was embarrassing and wholly inappropriate. Was it that obvious to everyone else how isolated you and Ward had become from one another? You hated the idea of Rafe and his friends sitting around and talking about it.

While your relationship with the blond had improved, there were times where he definitely talked to you like less of a stepson and more like a friend. You preferred if there were some boundaries, but you reminded yourself that this was Rafe and maybe this was the best you’d ever get. You asked yourself if you really preferred how things used to be over whatever this was?

Rafe only chuckled at you a few weeks later when you brought it up.

“Come on, you know it’s mostly just teasing,” he said with a shrug. “Besides, I see how much my dad’s work bothers you when it pulls him away.”

He shrugged again.

“Sue me for trying to make you laugh about it…”

He was helping you put up clothes that you’d washed, and your gaze traveled to the dresser, eyes landing on a picture of the man in question. Rafe had always been observant, that had never been one of the issues with him. It was always getting him to do something with what he’d observed that was the problem. If someone had told you a year ago that you would be discussing your marriage with Rafe of all people—even just casually—you probably would have laughed.

You weren’t laughing today though.

“I appreciate the gesture…sort of but…that’s not your place, Rafe,” you sighed. “You’re supposed to illegally drink and get high and do stupid things with your friends. You are not supposed to concern yourself with how my marriage to your father is going.”

You paused.

“...even if it is just a joke.”

You heard Rafe make a noise you didn't recognize, and when you looked at him, his gaze was already on you. He’d long stop folding Ward’s shirts it seemed, content to lean against the nightstand and watch you. His expression was even—unreadable—and when he tilted his head to the side, he hummed.

“Why not?”

You hadn’t expected that response.

“He’s my father, and you’re married to him, and that does affect me in some ways. It affects all of us actually…”

You frowned at him.

“You think Sarah and Wheezie haven’t noticed?”

You deflated a bit at that, eyes widening a tad.

“You don’t think they talk about how different things are between you lately and if you’re getting a divorce?”

You slowly shook your head, lips parting, but Rafe continued before you could say anything. 

“Who do you think has to reassure them? Because they’re definitely not going to talk to either of you,” he scoffed. “I think I should be allowed to comment on your relationship because if it goes south…well…we lose another mom.”

You looked away at that, entirely unprepared for the turn this conversation had taken. Rafe had a point, you had to admit, and you almost felt silly for expecting Rafe to have no opinions on a relationship that he was correct in saying affected him. Attempting to lighten the mood, you let out a soft chuckle.

“Well, let’s be honest. You never thought of me as much of a mom, anyway,” you folded a shirt. “Ward and I are not getting divorced anytime soon, but if we did, I have a feeling you wouldn’t be too bent out of shape over it.”

The other man didn’t respond right away, and when you glanced at him again you realized why. He’d moved closer—you hadn’t even heard him do so—and you watched him take the shirt out of your hand. His fingers brushed yours as he did so, and Rafe pursed his lips, eyeing the shirt in his hands.

“That might’ve been true some time ago, but… I’ve come to appreciate you a lot more than I have before.” 

He continued before you could even smile at that.

“The potential our relationship has and…what we can do for each other…”

He looked between your eyes as he said this, and the longer he stared at you, the more off the silence felt.

“Right,” you slowly said, and Rafe only smirked.

“My dad hasn’t really been doing his part to keep you happy in this family,” you shook your head at him, but he ignored it. “...and I get it. Work and all that, but I actually like having you around now. Especially when you walk around in those tight little one pieces…”

You stumbled back at his words, heart dropping to your stomach.

“Rafe-.”

“I mean, I doubt you’d ever leave…but you would be a lot less likely too I think if someone else was picking up his slack.”

You were acutely aware of how quiet the rest of the house was—because it was empty. Wheezie and Sarah were both with friends, and Ward was out, leaving just you and Rafe. That fact had you blinking, and while some part of you wanted to write Rafe’s words off to a sick joke, something deep down knew that he wasn’t anything less than serious.

“What…? Kelce of all people can flirt with you, and you eat it up, but here I am telling you I’m going to do what my dad can’t, and you look like you’re ready to crawl out of your skin,” he chuckled with a shake of his head.

“I’m not married to Kelce’s father,” you breathed. “...and he’s like a horny teenager. He’s of no consequence—Rafe…you’re in your father’s bedroom…telling his wife that…”

You couldn’t even get the words out, and Rafe grabbed your arm, pulling you closer.

“That what? That I don’t understand how my dad can have a wife like you and still prioritize work?”

You attempted to move away, but Rafe’s strength took you by surprise, gasping when he held you against him, one hand finding a home on the curve of your waist.

“That I get why Kelce keeps seeing if you’ll give him an ‘in’ because I feel the exact same way? Except, unlike Kelce, I don’t really care about getting permission?”

That angered you, and you were sure it was all over your face.

“Rafe-.”

He swallowed what you were about to say with a kiss, effectively shutting you up. If his strength before had surprised you, it was nothing in comparison to the feeling of Rafe lifting you and depositing you on Ward’s bed. It shook under your combined weight, and he was moving at a pace that was hard to keep up with. Rafe’s mouth was all over you, and so much was happening that it made it hard to think straight.

“Rafe…stop,” you gasped.

“Why?” he wondered against the skin of your stomach as he pushed your dress up. “How long has it been? How many months? You can’t tell me that you won’t enjoy this.”

You pushed at his head, but it was of no use. When his mouth attached to your cunt, you reached out to clutch at the bed, thighs almost crushing his head as you tensed beneath him. The feel of his tongue sliding between your folds had your eyes rolling, and deep in the back of your mind you hoped and prayed that no one would walk through that door.

You didn’t even want to imagine what this would look like should someone come up the stairs.

With his arms hooked around your thighs, he rolled you both until you were sitting on his face, and once again his strength had your head spinning. It seemed that in this position you;d surely have more of an upper hand now, but Rafe’s grip was strong on your legs. To your dismay, you couldn’t lift yourself off of him, and you had no choice but to press your hand into the mattress as he ate you out. His head moved beneath you, moving from side to side as he lapped at you, panties harshly pulled to the side.

As you felt how wetter you were becoming under his ministrations, you thought about his words—about how he said you’d enjoy this.

You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of being right, but the way he hummed told you that your body was doing that for him. You cried out when he slipped two fingers into you, stretching you out in time with tasting you, and the only sound in the room was that of your harsh pants and the wet sound of his tongue and mouth between your legs. He only allowed you to roll off of him when you came—hard and mind shattering and everything that you hadn’t felt in months.

You were a panting and overheated mess as you laid there, eyes wide and unblinking as you tried to process what had just happened. As you did, you could hear Rafe moving behind you, and only then did you attempt to gather your thoughts and sit up. You were embarrassingly wet, and the fact that Rafe was the cause had your head spinning and stomach turning. Before you could turn around and ask him what the hell was wrong with him, his hand was in your hair.

You’d only just gotten it done, and he twisted the braids around his fist.

He shushed you when you cried out, using that same strength to push you back down. His other hand was in between your legs—stroking you and fondling you and sinking his fingers into you again and again. With your dress around your waist, you could feel his bare skin against your thigh. You could feel the length of him and how hard he was, and while half of you feared what was to come, the other half couldn’t help but to make you clench around his fingers at the thought of Rafe sinking his cock into you.

“You’re so fucking tight, you know that?”

He pulled his fingers out before pulling at your panties, the fabric stretching painfully before they tore completely. 

“My dad must only fuck you once a month,” he chuckled to himself.

“Rafe,” you scolded, attempting to push against him, but your movements faltered when the head of him pushed into you.

It made you sharply inhale, and you squeezed your eyes shut as he slowly sank into you inch by inch. His hand was still tight in your hair, pressing your head down to the mattress while he forced you to arch your back. You heard him cursing the more he filled you, and when his hips were flush with yours, he wasted no time in pulling out before swiftly sliding back inside of you.

You couldn’t swallow down your moan.

“That’s it,” you heard him breathe. “You missed this, huh?”

He wasn’t wrong, but Rafe was also…longer than his father. Thicker too, and the stretch was something you weren’t used to. The feel of his cock made your toes curl, and you clawed at the expensive bedding, hating the way you started to meet his thrusts. Your brain felt like it was taken over by a fog, only able to focus on Rafe fucking you and chasing your high by using his cock. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, and you were so grateful the house was empty.

You were embarrassingly loud.

You felt unable to control yourself, crying out as you clenched around him and words tumbling from your lips that you didn’t recognize. Had you begged him to fuck you harder? Stretch your pussy? Come inside of you? It was possible, to be honest. You hadn’t realized just how much you missed this feeling until it was your stepson of all people giving it to you.

When you eventually found yourself on your back—and face to face with Rafe once again—you were lifting your hips to make him sink into you faster every time. Your dress had long been discarded, underwear hanging off of your hips in tatters, and your nails were pressed into his back. If Rafe was bothered by the feel of that, he didn’t say anything, but you doubted that was the case. He was too occupied with connecting his hips with yours and plunging into your soaking cunt. The sound of your coupling was loud—the squelch of your core reaching your ears with every thrust—and you absentmindedly noted that you’d never been this wet in your life.

Was it the way he’d just taken what he wanted? You’d never been the kind of woman into stuff like that. Perhaps it was the obvious though—the forbidden nature of it all. Rafe was your husband’s son, and he was fucking you—on Ward’s bed no less. You’d never been into stuff like that either though. Everything about this was nothing at all like you, and when Rafe’s phone lit up on the bed—a familiar name popping up on the screen—your heart sank.

His girlfriend.

You’d forgotten all about her too although you weren’t so sure she and Rafe were even together anymore. You hadn’t seen her or heard about her in some time, not since that day she came by the house, and his words and demeanor that day suddenly made more sense to you. He had been consuming so much of his time with you, but you hadn’t thought anything of it. Now, though…

You had no choice but to acknowledge what had been right in front of you all along.

You threw your head back as Rafe thrust into you slow, your legs parted as he rested on his knees, his gaze focused on where his cock disappeared into you. You looked down too, growing wetter at the sight of your juices on him. You were literally dripping around the length of him, making a mess of your thighs and the bedding, and when Rafe spoke to you the first time, you didn’t hear him.

“What…?” you breathed, looking at him through hooded eyes.

“I want to come inside of you so bad,” he purred, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your jaw. “Want to fill you up on his sheets and let it drip out.”

You didn’t say anything to that, but the way you clenched around him made Rafe chuckle.

“Does that turn you on? Hmm? Does my dad know what a whore he married?”

His thrusts grew rougher, making you gasp.

“I should probably be grateful though. Anything less, and you would’ve fought harder to stop me,” he murmured. “...but you didn’t because you knew you’d enjoy this. You knew you’d like fucking me.”

You could feel how close you were—and you were sure Rafe could too—and you dug your nails into his arms. You did want him to come inside of you, you wanted to feel him twitch as he spilled into you—filling you up and coating your walls—and you wanted to push it out after he pulled out of you. Ward always used condoms, and you understood it. He didn’t want any more children, and you were so far from menopause, but you couldn't even care about that right now as Rafe pushed you towards both of your highs.

When he came, he came with a loud grunt, and you couldn’t stop moaning as the feel pushed you over the edge. You swore that you felt him deep in your gut, his hips roughly slapping against yours as he forced you to milk him dry. Your legs shook and your vision blurred, and you were disappointed when Rafe didn’t stay in you long enough. Your heart was going a mile a minute, and you couldn’t move.

You just laid there with your legs strewn about, Rafe’s cum between your folds and sweat clinging to your skin. When you finally looked at him, he was running his hand through his hair, but it did no good. It was so damp with sweat. He looked like he didn’t have a care in the world, like he hadn’t just fucked his father’s wife, and when his gaze met yours, there was a haughty smile on his lips.

“He’ll probably be working late tonight…”

You swallowed at that, hating the way your heart jumped.

“...so you’ll have to be quiet while he’s in his study.”

White Lines & White Knights

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, pr*stitution, power imbalance, classism, mentions of death, jealousy, humiliation, revenge p*rn, drug dealer!Rafe, drug use, Pogue!reader

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics

summary: You and Rafe are using each other until you decide that's not what you want anymore, and the spoiled rich kid will do whatever it takes to have his expensive toy back in his bed.

⭑

Your door shut behind you with a resounding click, and once in the comfort of your home, you took the time to decompress. You took advantage of your much needed reprieve, the back of your head grazing the wood as you allowed your eyes to fall closed. Your heart was still beating wildly in your chest, and you wondered if a day would come where it ever wouldn’t. After all, this wasn’t exactly “new” anymore…

It had been five months since you buried your mom, five months since you discovered the mountain of debt she’d done an impressive job of hiding from you, and five months since you thought you’d be homeless on the street in less than one. In two weeks, you’d dealt with a loss you didn’t think you’d have to for at least another forty years or so and took on the kind of responsibility you didn’t think you’d have to for at least another three.

Your mom died 152 days ago…

…and you’d started fucking Rafe Cameron less than a month later.

You liked to pretend to not know why you slept with Kildare’s prime rich boy that fateful Saturday night, but you were far more self aware than you wanted to be. Even if you weren’t, it wasn’t exactly some mysterious string of decisions that lead to being tangled up in the sheets with Sarah’s asshole of an older brother. You didn’t need to pay someone to diagnose you.

You were grieving.

It was really just that simple, and the monetary stress on top of that drove you to find comfort in strange drinks and hard drugs. To this day you still didn’t know if Rafe just happened to be at the right place at the right time or if he heard whispers about John B.’s best friend snorting pills and getting shit faced when her usual crowd was looking the other way, but either way, the stuffy Kook clearly saw an opportunity to kill several birds with one stone.

“First two lines are free,” he’d told you that night, the bass of the music downstairs muffled by the expensive walls of some girl’s house.

You remembered how you’d chuckled, drunkenly shaking your head.

“Well, two lines is all I’m doing, I guess,” you’d murmured, throwing your hands up.

Rafe’s smirk had been cruel, a mocking glint in his blue eyes.

“What?” he’d dragged out, head tilted. “Spent all that life insurance money, already?”

Any other time and Rafe’s insensitivity might’ve upset you, but at the time you’d been drunk out of your mind and looking for more ways to forget the sudden absence in your life.

“I can’t imagine why Sarah hates you,” you’d sarcastically replied, approaching the impressive desk and leaning over to inhale a line.

You wiped your nose as you straightened, lashes fluttering as you ignored the feeling of Rafe’s gaze on you.

“I’ll be lucky if I even have a house to live in next week.”

The words had come out slurred, accompanied by a light chuckle, and deep down you’d felt the flutter of stress that you’d been desperately ignoring for weeks. You’d quickly snorted the other line, closing your eyes for a moment.

“Turns out my mom was skilled at hiding more than just illnesses…”

You remembered the silence—from both you and Rafe—and how in that moment you’d allowed yourself a solid four seconds of lingering on the reality of your predicament. In those four seconds, your eyes had watered and your lips had trembled and your throat had tightened, and after those four seconds, you were turning to Rafe with a haughty smile.

“Guess you won’t be finding a new client in me, huh?” you’d wondered with a shrug, finding a seat on the desk.

Rafe’s blue gaze had been unreadable as he eyed you, sitting in the chair at the desk, legs spread as he ran his eyes over you—slowly and in a way you didn’t hate at the time. You hadn’t been able to tell what he was thinking, although looking back, you wondered how it wasn’t so obvious to you then. Maybe because it was just too cruel of a thought, and while it was no secret Rafe was a spoiled asshole, you had never once thought of him as cruel.

Rafe had merely shrugged.

“There’s plenty of fish in the sea,” he’d slowly said, the corner of his pink lips curving upwards just a tad. “Besides…”

You’d watched him stand, rounding the desk to come and tower over you where you sat.

“I like to think of myself as a pretty ethical kind of guy…”

You’d started to snort at that before his gaze met yours again, and you found yourself swallowing whatever you were about to say. You hadn’t done a thing when Rafe reached up to touch your arm, the feel of his finger so light. You hadn’t wanted to acknowledge the way your heart skipped a beat at both his close proximity and the change in atmosphere. You hadn’t been able to ignore—however—the heat that settled in the pit of your stomach.

“...and I’ve been known to meet people halfway. Accept whatever they can offer…”

You remembered your internal conflict that night.

You’d been drunk and high and sad…not stupid. You knew exactly what Rafe was insinuating to you, and you’d struggled with the idea of really sleeping with Rafe Cameron for more drugs. The man was far from unattractive, sure that if drugs weren’t involved you’d still consider sleeping with him. If you’d believed in any of that, you’d imagine that your mom was turning over in her grave. At the time though, you hadn’t been quite sure as to what you believed in, so when he took your silence for consent, leaning in and touching your nose with his…

You hadn’t stopped him when he closed the distance.

You hadn’t even known whose house you were at, only internally apologizing to them for having sex on their expensive desk. You didn’t know if it was the drugs or the alcohol or simply Rafe Cameron, but it was easily the best sex you’d ever had in your life, and at one point you’d really considered how much better it could possibly be to fuck him without the condom.

You had no idea that you’d eventually find out.

Once dressed, you’d walked home with a small bag of pills and a satisfied grin. You knew that your friends would host some kind of intervention if they ever found out, but all you’d been able to focus on was the simple fact that fucking Rafe Cameron for a little coke and pills wasn’t sounding like the worst idea. Of course, if you’d known that you’d eventually start fucking him for your livelihood, you might’ve made different choices that night.

You pressed your hand to your face and pushed away from the door, eager to start the shower and scrub the stench of him off of you. Per routine, you took the money out of your pocket before getting undressed, eyeing the wad of one hundreds that now sat on your nightstand. Two grand was nothing to someone like him, but to someone like you, it made all the difference in the world.

…and Rafe knew that.

He’d known that when he handed you a thousand dollars one night, the coke in your system just starting to hit. You’d looked up at him from where you sat in confusion, hesitantly wrapping your hand around the money as you alternated between eyeing it and eyeing him. You hadn’t known how to feel about it, especially since it had only been moments ago when he was inside of you…and there he was handing you a grand in hundreds.

“Don’t look like that,” Rafe had chuckled, walking to his dresser in search of a shirt. “You know you need the money.”

He wasn’t wrong…and that was the problem.

Unless you hit a lucky streak in life, you’d always need the money, and that was exactly why you were in the predicament you were in—four months later and putting up with the monster that was Rafe Cameron just to keep a roof over your head. The thought brought tears to your eyes, positive now that your mom could see you and was beyond disappointed in you. 

Her disappointment could only be outdone by your own.

You were in a situation that you couldn’t get out of, on the verge of ending this arrangement so many times before asking yourself what better way could you pay your mom’s debts and survive? It wasn’t easy money by far, but it was fast money, and it was the kind of money that would take months to make at whatever low paying job you’d find around Outer Banks. Someone like you rarely got hired at the country club or working for some rich snob who wiped their ass with the kind of money you needed.

Rafe knew this too.

Tears kissed your eyes as you scrubbed your skin raw, wishing that you could scrub away the nasty bruise right along with the sweat and grime. You winced every time you touched it, cursing the blond and feeling one of those moments where you considered blocking him and moving on from this pathetic era in your life for good.

Fucking Rafe Cameron for drugs didn’t seem like a bad idea at the time, fucking him for money seemed like an even better one…until that entitled attitude started to extend to the woman he was paying good money to have access to. You remembered the first time you opposed something he wanted to do, the way in which he ignored you, the way he merely pressed your face into the pillow to shut you up.

It was the first time you felt truly icky about this whole situation.

Not even just icky.

…but afraid.

“I don’t pay you to tell me what you will and won’t do in bed,” he’d chuckled at you like it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard.

You’d still been trembling and wiping mascara from your cheeks.

“I pay you because I want to fuck you,” he’d slowly whispered to you, leaning in. “...and you let me because you don’t want to be sleeping on the beach.”

He’d held your gaze for what felt like too long, impressing upon you the true dynamic of this arrangement, and you remembered the unease that had festered in your gut that day. Maybe all the drugs and alcohol hadn’t allowed you to fully look at this arrangement for what it was and the power imbalance here, but you had for the first time that day, and you hadn’t liked it.

You liked it even less now, wrapping the towel around you and wondering how you were ever going to get out of this predicament you’d put yourself into.

“My family’s going out of town for the weekend,” the familiar blond mumbled to you as he inhaled a familiar powdery substance off the back of his hand. “Pack a bag when you get home, and I’ll pick you up tomorrow night.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at that, huffing instead.

“I can’t spend the whole weekend on Figure 8,” you told him. “I have plans.”

Rafe nodded, and you hated the smile that danced across his lips.

“Okay, uh, be ready at 8, I don’t want-.”

“Rafe, I’m serious,” you cut him off, shrugging. “I can’t stay at your house all weekend.”

You watched him watch you, slowly swiping his tongue between his lips as a frown started to take over. His dirty blond hair kissed his brows, and the longer the silence stretched, the more nervous you grew. You watched as Rafe glanced away, seemingly deep in thought before those baby blues of his rested on you, much colder than they were a few seconds ago.

“What the hell am I paying you for?” he whispered.

The question was rhetorical, and you swallowed.

“Rafe…I’ve barely seen my friends in months. I finally made plans to meet up with them for more than five minutes and-.”

“...and whose fault is that?” he shrugged.

You frowned at him.

“Nobody told you to go off on a bender when your mom kicked the bucket…” you blinked at his callousness. “Maybe you should’ve been finding comfort in your friends instead of drugs and vodka…and me.”

He finished his sentence with a soft—and yet cruel—smile.

“I pay you good money—great money even!—to be available when I want you to be, and unless you’ve found some other rich asshole to open your legs for, which I doubt…be ready tomorrow at 8.”

He was standing, now, looking down at you where you sat on the bed. The harsh reminder of your roles here had you looking away, and Rafe turned away when he rightfully took your silence as confirmation. You stared at the wall for a few moments before turning to stare at his back, thinking to yourself that this couldn’t go on much longer. Whether it took 1 or 5 jobs, you couldn’t keep relying on Rafe Cameron forever.

What was once a weekly occurrence had turned into something entirely other, and it hadn’t bothered you so much when your mother’s death was still so fresh and you were seeking solace in the worst coping mechanisms known to man—including isolation. Now, however, you were waking up to the choices you’d made and you hated the feeling of being inebriated and being surrounded by people you barely knew.

You hated being away from your friends.

“I didn’t even know you’d gotten a job,” John B. said to you hours later, looking disappointed but understanding. “JJ’s gonna be real disappointed. He’s been talking all week about having you try some new weed he got.”

You gave a light laugh at that, a pang in your chest at how much you missed doing stupid shit with them.

“Yeah,” you sadly said. “The world—and bills—doesn’t stop just because my mom died.”

The brunette grew quiet at that, worriedly eyeing you now.

“You doing okay…?”

You sighed at that, looking out over the yard of The Chateau, fiddling with your fingers as you thought of a certain blond.

“I’ve been better, but…I’ve been worse too.”

Your answer was honest, and you briefly wondered what John B. would think if he knew just how bad ‘worse’ had been. You didn’t think any of them would hate you if they knew the full extent of just how far you’d fallen, but you knew they’d have a hard time wrapping their head around it. The drugs and alcohol were one thing, but Rafe Cameron was entirely another. The man was the worst example of a Kook if there was one, representing every bad trait attributed to them.

Your friends would not understand you essentially sacrificing your self respect for money and drugs.

Sometimes you didn’t understand it either. 

Most especially when Rafe had his hands around your neck.

He picked you up at 8 on the dot Friday night—a man of his word if nothing else—and less than a hour later you were bent over his father’s desk as he pounded into you. Your head was hanging off of it, fighting hard to not scrape your nails against the dark mahogany. It wasn’t the first time Rafe fucked you on Ward’s desk, and you doubted that it would be the last time. There’d even been a few rare occasions when he fucked you in the older man’s bed, and you didn’t know what complex the blond had that fueled these decisions, but you weren’t a psychologist so you figured it wasn’t anything to concern yourself with.

Despite the tight grip on your throat, a choked moan managed to escape every time Rafe pushed his cock into you. Sweat made his skin glisten, and you were sure you fared no better. His hair wasn’t so neat, now, and you had the stray thought that you preferred it that way. Rafe being so far from ugly definitely made this arrangement easier to swallow down at times, but other times it just made you angry.

How was it fair that someone seemingly had everything, including the big dick to match?

Rafe walked around like he was God’s gift to the world, possessing one of the most rotten personalities you’d ever had the pleasure of being on the receiving end of, and he seemed to be rewarded with it with everything the average person could only dream about. As if any of that wasn’t enough, you practically rewarded him with even more by essentially telling him he could do whatever he wanted so long as the price was right.

It made you disgusted with yourself at times.

When he pressed a hand to your stomach, hips slowing to a pace that made your breath hitch, you squeezed your eyes shut. In the quiet office, the sound of his cock disappearing between your folds was loud, the wet noise telling you that there’d no doubt be a mess left on Ward’s desk when this was all said and done. You heard Rafe curse, and you didn’t have the energy to lift your head from where it hung off the desk.

“...and to think,” he panted from above you. “You were going to pass this up to sit around with those dirty Pogues.”

At this, you did attempt to sit up, a hand against his chest and one on the desk as he thrusted into you.

“Those ‘dirty Pogues’ are my friends,” you forced out, lashes fluttering. “...and clearly you forget that I’m one too.”

Rafe merely chuckled at that, perfect teeth winking at you as he grinned.

“Yeah, but you’re my dirty Pogue so it’s a little different.”

His words had your frown deepening, disgust filling your chest at the way he talked about you while literally fucking you. Completely turned off, you turned your head away, attempting to separate yourself from him. That haughty laugh reached your ears, and to your dismay, he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer.

“What…?” he lazily drawled. “You don’t like the sound of that?”

“You’re being an asshole, get off of me…”

He jerked his hips against you, making you gasp, and you squirmed in his arms as you fought to get away. Rafe leaned in to harshly nip his teeth at your cheek, his movements growing rough, causing the desk to shake.

“I’ve spent too much money on you to not say whatever the hell I want,” he evenly said. “So, yeah, at this point, I’ll confidently say I practically own you.”

Tears kissed your eyes at the disgusting words, and fed up with your resistance, Rafe merely placed a hand between your breasts before harshly shoving you back down. You winced at the action, but you had no time to fully linger on it as Rafe started to roughly plunge his cock into you, the sound of his skin slapping against yours reaching your ears. He wouldn’t allow you to sit up, both of his hands wrapped around your wrists now as he leaned over you.

This felt too reminiscent of the time he’d pressed your face into the bed, telling you to relax as he pressed the head of his cock just above where your folds were. You recalled the uncomfortable feeling and the tears that stained the pillow as he slowly fucked you in a place no one ever had before. The deja vu of it all had your mind wandering, eyes defocusing as you just waited for it to be over. It seemed like Rafe’s grunts sounded from above you forever, and when he finally came onto your stomach with a low moan, you didn’t move for some time.

You were slow to sit up as he got dressed, trembling as you steaded yourself for what you were about to say.

“I don’t wanna do this anymore.”

The words came out whispered, but in the quiet study, you might as well have yelled them. Rafe didn’t acknowledge you, and you knew it wasn’t because he hadn’t heard you. Frustrated with his refusal to take you seriously, you hopped off of Ward’s desk, angrily grabbing your clothes.

“I’m serious, Rafe. After this weekend…this is done,” you continued, voice firmer, now. “Don’t call me or text me or worry about any more money. I can’t rely on you forever anyway.”

By now, Rafe was actually listening to you, and you avoided his gaze as you got dressed. His silence was loud, and when you were finally decent again, only then did you lift your gaze to glance at him. His visage was unreadable, and after some time, he merely blinked at you.

“If I remember correctly, per your own words, your mom had enough debt ‘to file for bankruptcy’.”

His words made you sharply inhale, and you bit your tongue as he ran his hands through his hair in a poor attempt to tame the damp locks.

“Don’t ruin your life just because you’re pissed at me,” he coldly added.

You crossed your arms over your chest, pulling your lip between your teeth.

“Personal feelings aside, I can’t rely on you forever, Rafe. That’s just the truth. I have to figure something out eventually, and there’s no time like the present,” your voice shook as he fixed you with an unnerving stare. “I miss my friends, and I don’t want to be the sad, damaged girl running to Rafe Cameron just so I don’t feel anything anymore.”

The blond followed your lead, folding his arms over his own chest as he leaned against the wall, staring you down with that annoying crooked smile.

“...and where exactly do you plan to find a job that pays you what I do?”

“There are jobs, Rafe. I’ll find one.”

You didn’t appreciate his tone nor the look he was giving you as he studied you. He was looking down on you, and yes while that wasn’t exactly an unusual occurrence, this time was different. He was looking down his nose like he didn’t believe in you, like he expected you to be crawling back to him in no time, begging him to fuck you again.

After a few moments, that crooked smile curved even more, and you didn’t miss the glint in his eyes.

“Well, I wish you luck…”

His voice didn’t match the words that came out of his mouth, and his gaze most certainly didn’t.

“I literally called this morning and was told over the phone that you all were hiring...and now I get here, and I’m being told you’re not…?”

You tried to keep the skepticism out of your tone, but your frustration at your predicament was bubbling up and threatening to be unleashed on the lone man before you. The inside of the country club was practically empty—a slow Tuesday—and you briefly glanced around at the two staffers in the whole room. Sure, you could write it off to a slow day that didn’t need a full staff, but something in you told you that it was more than that.

You didn’t believe the man in front of you.

“Look, I don’t know what else to tell you, miss. Whoever you talked to got it wrong. I’m sorry for the miscommunication on our end,” was his only explanation.

You didn’t dare bother to point out that both he and whoever you’d spoken with on the phone sounded damn near identical.

When it became obvious that this conversation was over, you turned away with a small huff, breezing outside to a familiar dark car. Kie was standing by it, arms uncomfortably crossed over her chest, glaringly obvious that she’d rather be anywhere but here despite being from ‘here’.

“Well…?” she wondered as you got closer.

“They’re not hiring,” you mumbled as you slid into the passenger seat.

She joined you inside the vehicle a moment later, a frown on her face.

“...but you called.”

“I know.”

There was a beat of silence before she scoffed, reaching for her door handle.

“If this is because you aren’t some rich snob looking for play money…”

She trailed off when you spoke up.

“No, I don’t…I don’t think it’s that,” you stopped her. “Let’s just go.”

She eyed you for a few moments, frown deepening.

“Are you sure? Y/N, this is like the fourth place you’ve been to today,” she pointed out. “...and I don’t want to add my stress to your stress, but it’s kind of fucked up.”

You didn’t have the heart to tell her that it wasn’t possible for you to be any more stressed than you already were, simply signaling for her to drive. You could feel her eyes periodically landing on you as she did, and you chewed on the inside of your cheek, wondering why the universe had it out for you.

It had been weeks since you’d last seen or talked to Rafe, weeks since you ended your little arrangement, and weeks since you’d had a consistent source of income. It wasn’t a pretty nor respectable way to make money, but you’d been making money nonetheless. However, you couldn’t find it in you to continue sacrificing your self respect to keep sleeping with Rafe Cameron. You’d also been telling the truth when you told him you didn’t want to be this messed up sad thing anymore.

You had long let go of the drugs and cut back on the drinking, and now you’d dropped Rafe too.

You’d had hope…but now it was dwindling.

No one would hire you. In fact, no one had even allowed you far enough to officially apply just to get a foot into an interview. It was always the same. You’d call ahead so you didn’t waste your time, they’d tell you they were looking for people, and then the moment you actually showed up and introduced yourself, it was an entirely different story. It didn’t make any sense to you, and the thought of ever proving Rafe right made you want to be sick.

“How bad is it?” JJ asked you a few days later, the both of you away and isolated in some corner of some guy’s party.

You looked down at the weak drink in your hand, contemplating on whether or not to be honest.

“It’s…manageable.”

A whopper of a lie.

“...then why don’t I believe you? Come on, Y/N, it’s me. I know your mom wasn’t the best when it came to funds, and when she died…” he scoffed. “You weren’t exactly in any shape to march down to anyone’s job and fight for work just to keep things afloat.”

You looked away at that, throat tight.

“I’m honestly shocked you’ve kept it up for this long.”

If only he knew…

You felt his gaze on you as you wondered just how truthful you should be, but you reminded yourself that this was JJ. If he knew the full extent of everything, he’d be likely to rob a bank. Nevermind the fact that it would just make him ask more questions, like how you’d even managed to keep things afloat all this time. You didn’t think you could lie to him, and you didn’t think you could handle being on the receiving end of whatever look JJ would undoubtedly give you if you told him you’d been sleeping with Rafe to pay your bills.

You didn’t know if it was fortunate or unfortunate that the subject of your thoughts walked through the doors to prevent this conversation from continuing. His presence shouldn’t have shocked you—the party was pretty mixed with people from all sides of the island after all—but it still gave you pause, and JJ noticed.

“This asshole,” you heard the blond murmur, rolling his eyes.

You were inclined to agree, and you shrunk in on yourself with your drink, unable to ignore the knowledge that Rafe was at the same party you were at. In the weeks you’d been free of him, you’d had time to really ponder on your dalliance, and while you’d long accepted your hand in your own life choices, it was now hard to ignore Rafe’s own opportunistic choices in the situation. Sure, yes, you fucked him for money…

…but what did it say about him that he was perfectly happy to enter an arrangement in which he kept you off of the streets so long as you opened your legs for him?

If he was a good guy he’d just…keep you off the streets.

Like JJ would if you ever told him the truth.

You’d just decided to stop hiding in the bathroom when you came face to face with the man himself, heart skipping a beat at his presence. He was leaning against the wall next to the door, and you had the sneaking suspicion he hadn’t been waiting for his turn.

“How’s the job search going?” was how he greeted you, and you hadn’t been able to keep the ire off of your face.

He softly laughed to himself at that, nodding.

“I figured you’d look a little something like that.”

“Fuck you,” you breathed, and Rafe frowned, tilting his head to the side.

“You were, remember? And then you stopped…and that’s how you found yourself back at square one,” he reminded you.

The music traveled from downstairs into the dimly lit hallway, and you looked away from him just as he heaved a tired sigh.

“Do I need to apologize for calling you and your friends dirty Pogues? Is that what this is about?” he lazily wondered.

You didn’t dignify that with a response, and when you lifted your gaze, Rafe was rolling his eyes. He fixed you with a look, reaching up to touch your hair with a tsk.

“Come on, Y/N. You need me…”

He leaned in.

“We both know it, and you’re never going to find a job in this town.”

“You don’t know that,” you fired back, slapping his hand away as you took a step away from him.

Almost instantaneously, Rafe’s entire expression morphed, and you swallowed at the shadow that passed over his features. His pink lips pressed together, and those blue eyes hardened in a way you’d never been on the receiving end of. You watched his nostrils flare.

“Oh, trust me, I know.”

The combination of his tone and his expression and his words gave you pause, and your brows pulled together as you stared at him. For a moment, the music in the house faded into the background as Kie’s words came to your mind. ‘It’s kind of messed up’, she’d said, and while you hadn’t given that much thought to the statement then…you certainly were now.

“What did you do?” you shakily asked the blond, skin growing cold.

Rafe didn’t answer right away, and when he did, it was a lie anyway.

“I don’t know what you mean,” was all he said, one brow raised.

You felt tears kiss your eyes, and you felt silly for not putting the pieces together earlier. You didn’t know how, but somehow, Rafe had a hand in your lack of employment. It seemed exactly like something he’d do, but the only thing you couldn’t understand was why. Why do it? Just to see you fail? Just to feel like he’d won?

“Look, this little rebellious act…it’s cute and amusing and all…” he shrugged off with a small smile. “...but it’s silly. We both know you’re just going to end up right back under me.”

“You’re such an asshole,” you hissed, moving past him.

“Yeah, and you knew that when you let me fuck you for drugs on some guy’s desk,” he threw at you, making you flinch and slow down. 

“I was going through things then, Rafe! I didn’t…” you huffed a sigh, turning to glower at him. “I didn’t care about things I most definitely should have. It’s different now.”

You threw your hands up.

“I’m different, now, and I don’t want to keep sacrificing my dignity and self respect just to keep a roof over my head. I don’t want to sleep with someone who views me and anyone like me as beneath him. It disgusts me, and unlike you, I have no interest in sleeping with people who I claim disgust me.”

You watched Rafe’s lip curl over his teeth.

“Yeah, that’s real respectable and noble and all, but I wonder how noble it’ll feel when you’re being evicted,” he spat at you, moving closer. “You’re not getting a job in this town, that I can promise you, so you keep this up for as long as you want to, but we both know how this ends.”

You leaned away from the finger in your face.

“I fucking own you,” he bit out, roughly grabbing your arm and yanking you close despite your resistance. “You named your price, and I paid it-.”

“For a service! Not a person,” you harshly whispered.

Rafe’s chuckle was cold as he stared you down, perfect teeth winking at you.

“You think you’re the only girl in Outer Banks willing to spread her legs for some money? You think I’d have to pay any of them half of what I paid you?” your stomach dropped at his words. “I’ve been a lot more generous than you realize.”

He roughly let you go, practically shoving you away from him, and you stumbled. He eyed you with an expression filled with promise, and when you turned away to finally find your friends and hopefully leave, you descended the stairs on unsteady legs.

You pushed against Rafe’s arm and chest as he held your chin in a tight grip. The vehicle you were next to hid you both from view, everyone on the beach none the wiser to what was happening in the parking lot. Your feet tripped over one another as he forced you back, trapping you between him and the metal contraption.

“Is that what you came up with? You think that pathetic Pogue is going to pay your bills? Give you a place to stay when that eviction notice is taped to your door?”

“Get…off…of me,” you snarled, finally shoving him away with difficulty.

Your breathing was heavy as you glared at the blond, lips trembling and heart racing at the downright evil glint in his blue eyes. You glanced over his shoulder for any way to get away from him, your frustration growing as he moved closer.

“Color me curious, but is it somehow more dignified to fuck someone like JJ instead of me?”

The jealousy dripping from his every word threw you for a loop, and you weren’t in the right headspace to even linger on how strange that was.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but we’re not like that,” you drunkenly choked out. “I don’t know why you feel like I need to answer to you about my personal choices.”

It had only been thirty minutes ago that you were dancing with your friends. JJ—ever the flirt—had gotten a bit handsy, but it was nothing unusual. He could get handsy with a tree, and you’d merely smiled at the behavior, ignorant to the heated gaze that was hyper focused on you. You hadn’t even realized he’d been following you when you went to get a drink from Hayward’s truck.

“Butt out of my life already. You’ve already done enough,” you hissed at him, moving to get past him when he stopped you.

“We’re not done talking-.”

His words were interrupted by your hand, the sound of the slap echoing in your ears, and he’d just harshly pushed you against the car at your back when a familiar voice interrupted you both.

“Get off of her!”

Kie was suddenly there, helping you in shoving him away, and she looked at Rafe like he’d lost his mind—like she’d bore witness to an even sinister side to him. The blond didn’t seem all that fazed by her presence, barely sparing her a glance as his jaw clenched, his eyes on you. Clearly he felt that whatever he was contemplating wasn’t worth it, because without another word—but not without a final scoff—he made his way back to the party on the beach.

Kie wrapped her arms around you when you started to cry.

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

What a loaded question, and you realized that the truth was just on the edge of your tongue. Unable to stop yourself, you threw your arms around her, collapsing under the weight of all your choices and what had led you to make them.

“Kie,” you started, voice trembling in her ear. “I have to tell you something.”

If she was horrified by the truth, she didn’t show it much. You could tell she was shocked as the words tumbled from your lips, her brown eyes stricken and face draining of color. You didn’t know what bothered her more—the drugs, the prostitution, or that both involved Rafe Cameron. As it turns out, it was none of those things.

“Why didn’t…why didn’t you let us help you?” she tearfully wondered, looking between your eyes. “We know how hard it’s been for you, and we wanted to be there for you, but you…you just disappeared. You barely came around, and John B. heard things, but he didn’t want to believe them.”

She whispered that last part, and your chest ached at the thought of your friends hearing about your out of character behavior but feeling powerless to stop it, accepting it as part of your grief.

“Rafe’s a demented asshole,” she finally spoke on the elephant in the room. “...and we won’t let him win, okay?”

There was conviction in Kie’s voice, the kind of conviction that made you want to believe her, and so you nodded at her words.

She helped you straighten, wiping your face and taking you back to the party, quietly promising you that she wouldn’t say anything about any of this to the guys. She stuck to you for the rest of the night, and a week later, she made good on her promise, her parents shaking your hand as they welcomed you to their staff.

“We could always use the extra hands,” Mrs. Carrera told you one Friday evening. “It gets crazy busy, especially on the weekends.”

All the noise in the restaurant only validated her statement.

You’d been working at The Wreck for a week, and while it was nothing like what Rafe had been paying you, it was a job. It was a means of earning your own money that didn’t involve lowering yourself to the likes of Rafe Cameron. It was grueling, sure, and you sometimes wondered if it was truly worth the money, but then you’d think of the alternative, and you’d decide that it was worth something and that’s what mattered.

You hadn’t been paying that much attention when you approached your last table for the night, looking up from the apron at your waist and stopping in your tracks.

“Hey, I didn’t know you worked here too,” Topper said, a fairly neutral greeting.

Topper may have been just as much of an asshole as his friends, but he at least played nice for the public. Your gaze traveled around the table, quickly looking away when it connected with a familiar blue.

“It’s…a fairly new gig,” you finally said, getting your notepad ready.

“Hey, if you’re going to use your friends for anything, might as well use them to become a productive member of society,” he told you, his tone now making you frown.

Opting to ignore the comment, you asked them what they wanted. You didn’t make eye contact with Rafe when he gave you his order, hand unsteady as you wrote it down. When you left them to go and get their drinks, you weren’t surprised to hear the scrape of a chair behind you. You were focused on rounding the counter, reaching for some clean glasses.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

You didn’t forget your last encounter with the rich blond, tempted to ignore his presence altogether, but you were unfortunate enough to know how Rafe operated. Pausing in your movements, you turned to look at him, not surprised at all by the unhappy look on his face.

“I’m working, Rafe. What does it look like?”

You eyed the way his jaw ticked, finger gently tapping against the counter as he simply…stared you down. You glanced away, realizing that he didn’t have any power over you anymore. No, you weren’t completely out of the woods, but you had a secured source of income, and you’d happily struggle and scrape over sleeping with Rafe ever again.

“Go find some other struggling girl to take advantage of,” you finally said to him, grabbing their drinks and making your way to their table without a backwards glance.

Working at The Wreck was hard work, and no matter how many shifts you covered and how many tips you got, it was still long and hard work for half the money Rafe had ever paid you. You knew this when Kie came to you about the job, but on the other side of it, you were so beyond grateful for it. You were still stressed, of course, your monetary problems not going away anytime soon, but it was the normal stress of the average working twenty-something.

It wasn’t the kind of worry that came from a violent and abusive lover.

Rafe had been by the restaurant a few times since that day, and each time was more nerve-wracking than the last. Sometimes you served him, sometimes you didn’t, but it didn’t really matter because his gaze always found its way to you either way. On the days when Kie worked too, she’d ask you if you wanted her to do something about him, but you always declined.

After all, what reason would you have her give to her parents for kicking out the son of Ward Cameron who—to their knowledge—hadn’t done anything to warrant it?

Maybe you should’ve listened to Kie though. While you didn’t know if that would’ve changed things, you at least would have felt better about attempting to do something. Perhaps it was the mere sight of watching you work—watching you earn money independent of him—that made him snap, made him drop all pretenses completely. Barring him from the restaurant while you were there might’ve triggered some out of sight, out of mind response. It might’ve forced him to slowly get over whatever this thing was that he had about you.

It might have…

…and it also might not have done shit. Perhaps nothing would’ve changed, and you still would’ve found yourself tearfully staring at Kie’s mom as you took off your apron for the last time.

It was a normal Saturday when the texts and emails came through. The busiest day of the week, the most packed the restaurant ever would be for the next six days, and you’d been placing some fries down in front of some family’s kid when the noise in the restaurant…changed. You hadn’t been able to pinpoint how it changed, but if you did your best, it was like the chatters went from excitement about their food or whatever happened during the week to something else entirely.

One single thing that everyone was talking about.

You weren’t getting paid to mind your patrons’ business, but you started to think differently about that when the people at the table you were next to started to heavily eye you. The whole restaurant was loud with hushed chatter, so you couldn’t hear what they were saying, but the glances between the phones in their hands and you had you frowning.

You were slowly glancing around—realizing that that table wasn’t the only one—when you were yanked by your arm off the floor.

“What are you doing? What’s going on?” you worriedly wondered the moment Kie had you hidden from view.

The look on her face was hard to read, but her parted lips and wide eyes told you that she was horrified. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, seemingly unable to get the words out before slamming it shut, swallowing. The combination of her expression, her silence, and the lack of silence out there had a ball of dread forming deep in your gut.

“Kie,” you softly said. “What…what’s wrong?”

It took her a moment to speak.

“It’s Rafe,” she softly said.

Your confusion only grew, still not quite understanding. 

“What happened? Is he bothering you? Did…he do something to you?” you hesitantly asked, fearful that your former tormentor had turned his sights onto your friend.

“Not to me.”

That simple sentence started to put the pieces together, and you turned your face towards the front of the restaurant, recalling the stares and whispers and listening to the excited chatter. Your skin grew cold, goosebumps erupting all over you, and that dread was long gone. It was instead replaced by nausea.

“He sent everyone something…”

“No,” you heard yourself whisper.

“...a video.”

You turned to her with wide eyes, shaking your head in disbelief. Glancing down, you caught sight of her phone in her hand, and before Kie could stop you, you’d snatched it out of her grip. You moved out of her reach as she extended her arm, desperately trying to protect you, but it was too late.

You felt like you were weighed down by bricks as you stared at the two familiar faces on the screen.

It had to have been taken months ago, during one of the first few times you’d slept with him. You both were in Ward’s bedroom, and you remembered the day all too well, recalling the feel of his palm striking your skin and his voice in your ear before pulling your head down to his lip. Of course, it was that one and not one of the ones where he’d held you down and forced you to take his thrusts.

Your hand was empty, not even realizing when Kie had taken it back, simply staring into space at the memory of what was on that screen.

“Y/N, when my parents find out—and they’re going to find out—they…”

Her words died in the air at the sound of footsteps behind you, and you flinched when you heard a familiar voice call your name. Mrs. Carerra didn’t sound happy, and her expression fared no better when you turned around. You couldn’t stop your tears from spilling over as she gestured for you to follow her further into the back of the restaurant. You knew what was coming, what Kie was trying to prepare you for.

It was what Rafe wanted, after all…and he’d gotten it.

It was hours later when you were sitting with your back against your door, your phone turned off, overwhelmed by the influx of missed calls and messages from your friends. You’d only gotten a glimpse at them before finding your head bent inside of your toilet. Every single one of them bar Kie were shocked, their horror and confusion clear as day through their words. Only Pope had eventually sent a text that asked if you were okay.

…and the truth was that you weren’t.

You were so far from okay.

Rafe had won, he’d gotten exactly what he wanted, and even though Mrs. Carerra had expressed sympathy for your plight—more angry at the situation than anything else—she’d still had no choice but to let you go. Every other business in town valued the Cameron family way too much, and the only place that had been willing to hire you had been swayed by Rafe too in the worst manner possible.

It was well after midnight when your door shook from harsh knocks. You hadn’t moved in hours, just blankly staring at the wall, and you closed your eyes at the sound, positive it was one of your friends. You didn’t have the strength to face them, to answer questions and either break down or pretend you felt far better than you actually did.

You did, however, have the strength to face Rafe, your gaze lifting when his voice met your ears, demanding that you open the door.

His fist was still in the air when you swung it open, looking at him like he was something you’d find on the bottom of your shoes. He looked as put together as ever, completely unfazed by what he’d done. And why wouldn’t he be? This wouldn’t hurt his reputation and success in this town a bit. If nothing else, the video would have even more girls falling at his feet, but for some reason he didn’t seem to want that.

He preferred to force your hand instead.

“What is wrong with you?” you tearfully asked him, throat tight.

He didn’t respond right away, touching his tongue to his lip as his gaze roamed behind you.

“You gonna let me in?”

Your eyes almost popped out of your sockets, and he gave a haughty laugh.

“It’s not like I’ve left you with much of a choice, now, have I?”

He sounded so…proud of himself, and all you could do was cry as he brushed past you. He closed the door for you, noticing that you were struggling to move, and he kept his hand on the wood, his chest grazing your back as he pressed his face into your hair. You heard him deeply inhale, and you squeezed your eyes shut.

“I told you how this would end,” he whispered. “I gave you a chance to be smart about this.”

You went to move away from him, but his other hand shot out to grip your arm.

“You’re the one who made things way more difficult than they needed to be.” he continued. “We had a good thing going…and then you had to go and get sensitive and sentimental.”

When he forced you to face him, you kept your eyes on the collar of his shirt. The silence stretched as you refused to look at him, and you eventually heard Rafe heave a sigh. He let your arm go, and you watched him reach into his pocket, disappointed but not surprised by the roll of one hundred dollar bills he pulled out. When he straightened, he took your hand and placed the money in your palm, clasping your hands together.

A few more tears escaped when his fingers threaded through yours.

“Do you still feel like fighting this?” he quietly asked. “Let me know, right now, because I have all the time—and money—in the world.”

He slowly pulled you closer.

“You don’t.”

You shakily exhaled, reluctantly lifting your gaze to meet his own. You stared at one another for what felt like too long, and when he leaned in, taking your silence as defeat, you let him kiss you. It was a salty kiss, your own tears mixing in, but Rafe didn’t seem to mind, moving his lips against yours with a growing smile. His arm snaked its way around your waist, and the animalistic noise he let out told you just how excited he was to have you back under his thumb.

The couch seemed sufficient enough for him, bringing you both to it as he peeled your clothes off. You shuddered as the air hit your naked skin, thoughtlessly moving closer to his own body heat, and Rafe pressed a kiss to your shoulder as he laid you down. It felt like ages since you’d last slept with him, but you knew that wasn’t why you were trembling.

You were trembling because you finally realized you were sleeping with a monster. Before, Rafe had just been an opportunistic asshole to you. Rich, spoiled, selfish, the list went on, but now he was so much more than that. He was now someone who’d raped you on more than one occasion, and who had proved that he’d do anything to make you completely reliant on no one but him.

How else could he ensure that you’d never leave him? Never have any other choices but him? You’d eventually have to leave Outer Banks one day, you knew that to be true if you ever wanted a life independent of him, but that video could follow you around for the rest of your life, and very probably would.

When Rafe sheathed himself inside of you, stretching you out in a way that was regularly familiar to you, you gasped. The blond wasted no time in adopting a steady pace, fucking you hard against your couch, his fingers pressing into the arm of it. His grunts were soft in your ears, and despite your combined hatred and fear of him, you weren’t able to swallow down the whimpers that escaped your lips too.

You didn’t know what kind of hard on Rafe had for fucking someone he deemed so far beneath him, even more so to go through so much trouble of forcing you right back into his bed. You didn’t understand it one bit, and part of you never wanted to. You didn’t want to understand a thing that went on inside of his head, didn’t want to understand the thought process behind doing what he’d done to you.

His fingers scraped down your thigh before yanking you forward as he sat up some, looking down to where his cock disappeared into you. He was focused on the sight, lips parting as he panted from above you. He didn’t lean back down until your leg was over his shoulder, preventing you from moving much as he used you to chase his high, hips repeatedly curving against yours and forcing you to grip the couch.

“I missed this pussy so much,” he murmured, lips grazing the corner of your mouth as he spoke. “You drive me crazy, you know that?”

You hadn’t before, but you did, now.

When his hand landed on your throat, it didn’t hurt, but his thumb applied just enough pressure to keep you alert.

“I’ll stop calling your friends dirty Pogues if that makes you feel better,” he whispered, a gentle kiss from his lips to yours. “...but you still belong to me.”

omg lene you should do something about a 80's slashers au with rafe and the boys that would be soooo cool!! ❤️❤️

!!! omigod yesss i'm gonna start with 80's slasher!rafe if feel like he'd be a creepy little stalkerrr, def season 2 rafe 💞

𐦍༘₊ ⊹ warnings! 18+ - non con, violence, stalking, spanking, slight breeding kink, knife play, dark!rafe - ₊˚⊹

you sat in the comfort of your bedroom, bathed in the soft glow of lamplight, finishing up some homework while talking with a girlfriend of yours on the phone. you reach your hand out to your nightstand to grab the nail file when the sound of the door closing causes you to freeze, being left home alone, your heart starts to race, and you hang up the phone and walk up to your door. you pull down your pretty little white nightgown so it covers your ass as you press your ear to the door to make sure it was just your parents.

all you hear is silence so you shrug and convince yourself it was just your mind playing tricks on you, then the phone starts to ring again, thinking it was just your friend calling you back, and you pick up the phone. 

"hello?" you speak with your voice lowered.

"hey babyface" you stop moving when you hear a voice you don't recognize.

"who's calling?" you try to sound assertive but end up sounding like a scared puppy. 

"i've been uh- watching you for a long time, an' i figured i should introduce myself," he says, his voice all gravely. you grip on the handle of the phone and reach an arm over to close your curtains quickly.

"stop that! it's not funny, whoever this is leave me alone." you almost whine. 

"nah can't do that baby, you looked too pretty in that nightgown...you wearin' panties underneath?" he continues. 

"i'm gonna call my boyfriend an-and he'll find out who you are and beat you up!" you stutter.

"you're not gonna do that, cuz uh- i'm in the house, and if you hang up-"

"i'll call the police!" you cut him off.

"i need you to listen to me, if you don't wanna die, you need to walk down to the living room slowly- you try to run and i'll catch you. if you don't come down, i'll go up n'get you." he then hangs up, your chest heaving as tears start to form in your eyes, you think about climbing out the window but it is on the second floor and the man might catch you and kill you! you decide to grab a chair to put against the door to keep him coming in but it's too late, as you take one step backward trying to drag the chair you feel the blade of a knife press against your neck. you gasp, ready to scream.

"shshshsh, behave." the man shushes you, pressing himself behind you, god he must be tall. "told you to listen" he coos condescendingly. 

"please, please don't..." you sob. 

"hey, hey! shut up- listen to me alright?" he raises his voice causing you to shut your eyes and nod slowly in fear, tears spill down your face. "good girl. want you to lay down on your bed and stay there, don't move, scream, talk or do anything 'less i tell you." you nod again slowly and he removes the knife from your neck, you do as you are told and lay down on your bed, silently sobbing. 

you look at the man, face now lit up by the soft light of your nightstand lamp, you watch him come closer and wipe some of the sweat forming on his forehead under his messy hair with the back of his hand that's holding the knife. he grins, getting up on your bed and tossing the knife next to him as he pins you down. 

"r-rafe?..." you whisper, now realizing who it is.

"yeah! yeah baby it's me..." he continues to grin. 

"get off! please rafe, i don't wanna do this with you!" you whine and start to squirm a little bit.

"you don't really have a choice." he mumbles as he runs his rough hands up and down your thighs, stopping to grab the hem of your lace panties. "you wear this for me?" he says pulling them down as you really start to cry, trying to get him off of you by pushing at his shoulders but he's too strong.

"i have a- my boyfriend-" you start but then he looks back into your eyes and smiles again. "nah, you don't, i got rid of 'im... cut him up, he's in the trunk of my truck. wanna see?" he asks, his eyes following yours, bringing his hand up to wipe your tears away lovingly. 

"why!? why are you doing this!" you sob and try and move your face away from his touch. "i love you, i love you so much and you never talked to me or...looked at me and i need you to love me too…say it…" he demands. you shake your head no and try and push him off, pissed, rafe manhandles you. he flips you onto your stomach and lifts you up by your waist so your face is smushed against the messy sheets, ass in the air. "you fucking brat." he spits out.

he yanks your panties down and smacks your ass with his large hand, holding your wrists in the other. he forcefully spreads your legs and places a hard slap on your poor wet little cunt.

you let out a yelp as he "soothes" your throbbing pussy by rubbing your clit with the rough pads of three fingers. "are you a virgin princess?" he whispers, pressing a gross, sloppy kiss to your cheek. you whine out and try to move your face away. "what? you don't like my kisses?" he leans in again to give you a few more of those wet kisses, making taunting kissy sounds that make you scrunch up your face and mewl.

"gonna make you feel reeeally good baby, gonna make this little pussy cream all over me, yeah?" he rambles, grabbing the knife with his free hand, bringing it back to your neck. "please rafe, i've never- "

"you waited for me? huh? princess saved herself for me." you can hear his smile, he's almost relieved that he will be your first and last. he pulls himself out of his boxers and starts to line himself up. "i would'a stretched you out a bit first but this cunt is a dripping mess already so."

you scream as you feel his fat tip press against your entrance. "shhhhshh, s'just the tip." he murmurs, easing himself in slowly until he's stretching you as you've never felt, his tip kisses your cervix. "ow! it's too big, too much, too big..." you ramble, squeezing down on his cock unable to really move due to the knife.

"n'you are so tight, fuck, this is where you should'a always been..taking me like this babydoll." he grits through his teeth as he starts to thrust causing you to whine and to try and pull your hands away from his grip.

"keep cryin', it's only making me harder princess," he grunts, tears continue to stream down your face. he pounds into you now hard and fast, you wish you could grab onto his shoulders or hair as he starts to hit that sweet spot.

"stop it! rafeeee" you whine, he shushes you by tossing the knife on the bed again and covering your mouth with his hand as he continues his assault on your cunt. "i should cum in you, knock you up so you won't ever be able to leave me." he breathes out, he lets go of your face and wraps that hand around your neck to bring you up to kiss your neck. "no! no no please pull out! please rafe!" you cry.

he lets go of your neck and throws you back down you your face hits the mattress again, he lets go of your wrists so you are now gripping your sheets. "you know that's the knife i used to stab your boyfriend? he begged like a little bitch. he didn't deserve you." he reaches a hand around to grab your pussy and pull you closer to him, then rubbing your throbbing clit.

"m'na cummm" you mewl, body giving into how he's touching you so roughly yet gently.

"i know baby, give it to me, all over my cock c'mon" he encourages with that tone, and feeling him so deep in you and hitting that spot your body goes numb. shutting your eyes tightly as hot white explodes in you making you feel like you are on a roller-coaster.

he grips your waist and with the other hand, he's lovingly brushing back your messy baby hairs due to your sweaty forehead. "atta girl, thereee, see? i knew you could be good for me." he thrusts once more hard and deep, shooting his thick hot load all up in you causing you to whine at the feeling and making him groan.

he pulls out of you, sticking his two fingers into your pussy to push his cum back in, then leaning in to bite your ass. you let out a little scream, he flips you on your back and grabs the knife, gripping your thigh he brings the knife over to carve a little RC into the meat of your thigh. you try not to thrash around but you do let out another little scream at the pain.

"yer' all mine now kid." he smiles, exhaustion taking over as you let out shaky breaths and let him lean in to press icky kiss to your lips. ᥫ᭡

I need more 80's slasher!rafe plsss lene!! 😘

ohhhh shureee!!! 💞 sorry if there are any misspellings!

𐦍༘₊ ⊹ warnings! 18+ - p in v, non con, over stimulation, violence, death, spanking, knife play, dark!rafe - ₊˚⊹

"rafe, i'm tired my feet hurt and- i just wanna go home!"

"hey, i took you out on a nice date that you wanted me to take you on!" he yells, clearly frustrated at you. 

"i didn't even wanna go on a date with you! i only agreed to go with you because you won't take no for an answer and you'd kill any guy that talks to me!" you shout back. you shift you balance to the other leg making you trip on the uneven road with the stupid little heels he advised you didn't wear, telling you to 'just go comfortable'. you walk away from him when he doesn't answer and just looks at you furrowing his eyebrows and squinting his eyes.

"HEY! don't walk away from me when i'm talking to you!" he yells back much louder than before, causing you to freeze and almost twist your ankle with the way you halted. turning around to face him, his eyes meeting yours and not looking away as he stalks over to you. 

"you better watch your tone with me. don't ever say some shit like that again, take it back," he demands, staring down at you. he grabs your wrist with a bruising grip when you don't answer immediately. 

"let go-"

"nah, you know what? im gonna show you somethin'." he wraps his arm around your waist and picks you up over his shoulder, carrying you back to his truck. the silence of the small neighborhood is suddenly disrupted by your loud protests. yet nobody comes out to see what's causing the commotion because rafe has already thrown you into your seat and buckled you in. a knife gripped in one hand as he uses the other to drive, both of you sit in silence as he drives out into the middle of nowhere.

"rafe, where are we goin'?" you ask in a soft tone, hopefully, to get him to soften with you as well. 

"shut up." he doesn't look away from the road, eyes still focused straight ahead into darkness being slightly illuminated by the lights of his truck. 

rafe finally parks the truck just before the entrance of a dirt path so that the tire marks aren't printed on the dirt just in case. he leans over and unbuckles you, then gets out of the car to go around and help you out. 

"rafe i'm really sorry about what i said, i know you just want to spend time with me- but you're scaring me!" 

"jus' come with me." he holds onto your hand tightly, guiding you through the dark forest just before a swampy lake. 

"why are we here..." you whisper 

"i wanna show you somethin', baby look." he points to where an obviously pale dead body of a young man lay floating not too far from where you two are standing, left to be eaten by gators. 

"oh my god..." you cover your mouth with your hand, looking up at rafe with teary eyes. 

"that's the asshole who'd perv around the girl's locker rooms-"

"oh my god rafe!"

"no hey- i'm not done. he's also the asshole who had creepy little pictures of you taped in his locker, did you know that?" he maneuvers his hands around to grab onto the sides of your face to get you to look up at him. 

"i got him to drive here, n'i got rid of him for you babyface, because i'm a good boyfriend right?" 

"you did this today?" you whisper.

"right before our date..." he whispers back.

you can bring yourself to do anything, tears rolling down your cheeks, he sighs and lets go of your face, running his hands through his hair. your body acting faster than your mind, taking the opportunity to make a run for it and find a way to call for help not even knowing what you are doing anymore. 

"jesus, you better get back here now!!! i'm not in the mood to play around!!" he shouts, pulling his knife out of his pocket and already chasing after you. you run as fast as you really can with the heels, heart beating so loud that's all you can hear. 

tripping over your heels again, your knees hit the dirt. you quickly throw off the heels leaving your white filly lace socks to get dirtied. 

"little bitch, didn't i tell you not to wear those stupid little heels....hmm?"

you shut your eyes after hearing his voice, knowing it's too late now. he bends down to you on the floor and lifts your chin up with the tip of his knife. tsking when he meets your eyes, manhandling you on your hands and knees, lifting your little skirt, and cutting off your panties making you shiver at how the cold air of the night hits your bare pussy. 

"rafe- no! m'sorry...m'really sorry!!" you whimper, closing your eyes shut when you feel his bulge in his pants pressing against your thigh. 

"have'ta put you in your place, cause like where the fuck do you get off runnin' away from me like that huh?" 

"i said i was sorry, please!" you sob, though you don't see him, rafe nods and presses the side of your face down into the dirt and pulls his thick hard cock out to press against your entrance. you scream when you start to feel the stretch, tears continuing to run down your face. to shut you up he stops for a second and stuffs your torn panties into your mouth to muffle your screams, then goes back to pushing himself in balls deep. 

"better quit it with the attitude, that's not how good girls are supposed to act. can't you see how much i love you? i kill for you princess and all i get in return is your fucking attitude?!!" he scoffs with a laugh, now starting a brutal pace, pounding into your poor puffy cunt with no time to really adjust to his size.

"jus' want you to be my good girl 'n listen to me cause i know what's best for you."

the only thing heard is the sound of his balls slapping against your clit, his groans, and your pathetic whimpers muffled by the piece of cloth in your mouth. a loud smack then ringing in your ears as he slaps your ass so hard it burns and leaves a sting that lingers when he grips the flesh in his big rough hands. you squeeze your eyes shut and tighten your pussy around him, screaming around the gag. he shushes you with an "easy girl, eaaasy" and smacks the same spot again, feeling how your ass cheek starts to get hot due to his assault.

"you gonna be good now? hm?" he taunts, taking the panties covered in your drool out of your mouth. 

"yes-yes! yes rafe, m'sorry." you breathe out, your hands clawing at the grass and dirt. 

“i know, i know...thaaaat's my girl, cream all over me." he can feel how close you are and how your cunt is starting to pulse around him harder. he reaches his arm around your waist and brings his thumb to rub fast circles on your clit making your eyes roll back and immediately cum all over his fat cock, squeezing him and leaving a white ring on the base of his dick.

 "atta girl." he doesn't lessen the assault on your body, continuing to pound into you and rub your clit to overstimulate you, causing you to weakly thrash around. 

"when you struggle it jus' makes your pussy tighter princess." he grips your hips to keep you from moving around too much, feeling like he can barely move at how tight you are clamping down on him. 

"stop- no more rafey, no more i can't." you mewl. 

"shhhh, juuus' one more i know you can do it baby."

he rams into you, his cock so thick stretching you out, you're moaning at how warm and good he feels in you that your brain just shuts off. 

"tell me you love me n' i'll let you cum. wanna hear you say it." he stops rubbing your clit and pulls your hips to be closer to him.

"can't- can't!!!" you whine all cock drunk.

"no, i know you can. c'mon..." he grunts and pushes your face into the dirt, keeping you there.

"i love- i love you rafe, love you so much!" you scream when you feel the bulge in your tummy and his tip kissing your cervix. 

"i love you too baby." satisfied he brings his hand back to rub your clit hard and fast. you moan out with your mouth open in an o shape, you cum for the second time. your hear your heartbeat in your ears as he spreads your ass painfully with a rough grip to watch how his cock goes in and out of your twitching cunt. 

"such a pretty pussy..." he grins, he pushes in one last time hard and fills you to the brim with his cum. panting he pulls out letting his cum drool out of your spent hole and that's the last thing you remember before losing all feeling and passing out. 

Haunting You

Dark!Rafe Cameron x Housekeeper!Reader

Word Count: +1,574

Warning(s): +18, Kidnapping, Mentions of past non con, Forced pregnancy. Ward is a warning himself.

Author's Note(s): I got this idea after listening to Beyonce's haunting music video.

You've been best friends with Sarah since childhood. When your parents decide to move away, she insisted you live with her family to attend the same college. With their blessing, you find yourself living with the family as a personal housekeeper. It's a reliable source of income that's kept you busy.

As soon as school was out, you decide to pick up another job at a local diner. You were given a key to their home due to you working late shifts. Ward insisted it was too dangerous, he assigns Rafe as your personal driver. But when you go missing one night, the entire town has their eyes set on the Cameron family.

A search party is held the next morning and following nights after. Rafe is the only one who doesn't attend. Only returning after spending the weekend probably partying. Ward scolds his son for being so careless, but Rafe didn't seem to care. No matter what he does, his father always seems to find another flaw in him. He shows more affection towards his daughter's best friend than his own flesh and blood. He'll be damned if he's second best to some Pogue.

It's been months since your disappearance. So when the police inform the Camerons that your investigation had been labeled a cold case, Ward had to be the one to break the news. After the last and final search party, Ward consoles his daughters. Rafe on the other hand, was nowhere to be found.

Typical, unreliable Rafe. In fact, none of it even bothered him. Someone who he's been responsible for the past year suddenly goes missing and there isn't even the slightest bit of concern. Nothing. If it weren't for Topper's party, he would've been a prime suspect. Ward knew of your friendship with Sarah, that’s why he agreed to hire you in the first place. You were a good kid. Until the day his son informs him that you ran off with some merchandise. Ward ignored all of Sarah's pleas and files a police report, from then on the rest was history.

Ward had kept himself cooped up in his office. Tonight had been a thunderstorm warning he could hear the heavy rain pattering against the windows. He listens to the strong, sharp wind. It resembles a faint cry, no...plea. It sounded almost like you. Like he could hear your cries from down the halls. As if you were still here. Calling, pleading for help. This wouldn't be the first time he's felt a presence in their house. He swore he heard it first coming from the vents. Surely it would go away the next morning. An hour had passed and it was still there.

A faint, ghost-like howling. Ward knows he isn't alone. Wheezie was out for a slumber party, and Sarah was at a friend's place. He could've sworn he saw Rafe stepping foot inside right before the storm hit. But nowadays it was hard to tell. His son barely set foot inside the house. Not unless he was rummaging for supplies or extra cash. To the point where even his father grew suspicious of his activities. He wasn't on Pogue territory, and none of his Kook friends had seen him recently. His jeep was still parked out front, so where the hell was he?

Ward searches for his son upstairs. He makes his way inside Rafe's room. His son wasn't there, the only clue being left is his phone tossed aside on the bed. Knowing Rafe, he'd never step outside the house without it. This time there's another shrill cry, more audible is heard coming from behind Rafe's bed. It sends shivers down his spine. Ward pulls it back, revealing the vent connected to it. He knows where it leads to.

See, the Cameron estate held a few secret rooms. One of them had been in his office. Another in the library, and the last room being an underground storage unit, built years ago by the first owners. He makes his way to the basement, where the entrance to the bunker was. To his surprise, there was a faint light at the end of the staircase. Finally, the voice halts. Whoever this intruder was, they're certainly not welcomed to squat in his house.

Ward picks up a lamp left at the end of the stairs. He follows the faint noise until he reaches the source. For a moment, they sound like Sarah's until he listens more closely, no, he was sure they were yours. But how? You'd been missing for months. He shines the light at the silhouette. His burning question finally being answered. That night their family joined your search party, everyone had been there. All except one.

Ward knew he should've spotted the signs. He knew something wasn’t right when his son of all people suggested that you, his old classmate, work with them. It wasn’t like his son to help hire employees. Let alone a housekeeper. He should've kept more distance between the two of you. That night, Rafe was supposed to pick you upand he did. The housekeepers who had left for the night. So there was no one who saw him dragging you down the basement stairs. During all these months he'd been cooped up down here. All this time, Rafe knew.

Ward didn't want to admit it. If he could just sweep this whole incident under the rug, then maybe it would fade within time. But there you were, sobbing, rocking yourself back and fourth. He notices you were holding something. A bundled blanket. It starts moving. That's when he realizes there was no turning back from the damage Rafe had done.

A small fist raises in the air as the babe cried out for its mother. You were nearly drained, your face losing color as each minute passes. Drenched in sweat and still sore from the after birth. There was no time to spare. Ward had to think, and he had to think fast. Out of all the things Rafe could get himself in, why? Why did he bother someone like you of all people?

You were a good kid. You made everything around you better, and in a way, more complete. Ward noticed the way his son used to look at you. He should've stopped this sick obsession before it could take root. Never in his life would he predict such an outcome. You look up at him with pleading eyes, “P-please…please help us!” A small cry came from the covers. At that moment Ward realizes his son had gotten himself into something he couldn’t reverse.

What you had suffered was unfortunate, but he couldn’t risk losing everything he’d worked hard for. "P-please Mr. Cameron h-help me you have to hurry before he comes...!"

He throws on an act, "Honey, who?" Approaching you with fake concern.

"I'm so sorry I should've stayed far away--I should've never gone in his room if I knew he would--" you can't help but get choked up. Ward gently held your shoulders as he pulls you in for a hug. After a moment you gather enough courage to look him in the eyes, "It was Rafe. All along it was him!"

Ward felt horrible for what he was about to do, "Oh sweetheart..." he picks up the lantern and takes a step back, "I can't risk losing my family because of one mistake,"

That's when your entire world came crashing down. As if your heart had broken into a million pieces. This was the man who had watched you grow up with his children. Who you thought embraced you as one of his own. He sighs, "It's a small sacrifice to protect my family, I hope you'll understand now that you have one of your own," He makes his way up the stairs, ignoring the echoes that bounce off the walls as you plead, scream for mercy.

You let out a final shrill cry, "I hope this follows you for the rest of your life! Like a curse, I hope this haunts you for the rest of your life!" It was the last thing Ward hears from you before leaving. He meets Rafe at the entrance. His son drops the medical supplies in hand. He had had been sporting a fresh bruise on his face. One of the many you'd given him during these past months. Even now at your at your most vulnerable form.

Rafe had the audacity to look at him as if he'd just killed someone. Ward sighs, "Care to explain?" giving his son a moment to find the right words. Rafe isn't phased, not even in the slightest. He's not upset that he'd got caught. He's more nervous that his father found out about a the kid he had behind his back.

Rafe looks his father dead in the eyes, "I love her," smiling at his proclamation of 'love'. it was at that moment when Ward felt pity for his son. He should've known better when Rafe decided to go under the radar. Nothing good ever came from it.

As mad as he was, Ward couldn't blame the child born from such circumstances. So, the Cameron men decide to hatch a plan. Later that summer, the Camerons decide to hold a grand solstice celebration at their manor, inviting almost every single Kook in the area.

They decide to hold the event at their house. It was a coverup plan. An excuse to show off their newest renovations, which indirectly helped cover their tracks. A perfect distraction for the Cameron ladies of the house. Ward let them redecorate the inside in preparation for the party. It gave Ward and Rafe time to rearrange the old vents away from the noisy basement. All while Rose and the girls were kept busy with the décor.

During the event, Rafe took his time introducing his son to each and every last member of Kook society. The whereabouts of his mother seemingly out of the picture, abandoning her own child and leaving Rafe a single father. They took pity on him and the situation he'd been forced in. Rumors spreading that he'd been seduced by some lowly Pogue. He decides to step up into the role and embrace fatherhood, playing hero for safe face. Of course the Kooks ate his story up. Who doesn't love a happy ending?

Ward sees his son selling the story and can't help but feel much more relieved. Way more than he had been in months. But just to be sure, he kneels down to the nearest vent and places his ear against it, nothing. He hums a tune before downing his champagne. There would be no more 'hauntings' coming from the Cameron house.

Until Death (Part 1)

Arranged Marriage AU: Dark!Husband!Rafe Cameron x Wife!Reader

Word Count: +1,524

Warning(s): +18, Non con, Non consensual photographing, Domestic Violence, Humiliation, Forced breeding, Unwanted orgasm.

Author's Note(s): I wrote this cause I really wanna get married and find someone to love me but I don’t think it’s possible so here’s a fic instead 🥲

You never would've imagined being married to the Kook king himself, Rafe Cameron. But here you were, almost a year in. From the beginning you felt like an outsider. Even in the new home that Ward had gifted you. It was decision made by both of your fathers. Ward wanted someone from a family he knew very well. Your fathers were childhood friends and trusted each other enough to make the right decision. Whether their children were willing to or not. An arranged marriage between a Kook and a Pogue. One of the first of its kind.

Ward needed an heir from his only son. It was about time Rafe learned some responsibility. Ward needed to find a family with no authority or power. So, what better decision than to contact an old friend from the cut? Ward managed to pull himself out of there, your father on the other hand, wasn't so lucky. However, by Mr. Cameron's gracious offer, your father had been given a position in his company. Ward would handle the paperwork, while your father handled construction and remodeling.

It was enough to get by, but not enough to get out of the cut. That's why your father made the brash decision. Ward didn't see a problem with the arrangement given your family had no name for themselves. To him, having a family with no name or status is better than being involved with a tarnished one. It would avoid any unwanted attention for the Cameron family.

All your father wants is to make sure his only child would be taken care of once he's gone. You've only met Rafe during family events/outings, and when you did meet, he'd always try to torment you. Other than that, most of time would be spent clinging to Sarah for protection.

You hadn't known about the arrangement until a week prior. You defiantly hadn't expected Rafe to get on one knee in front of everyone. Your engagement was a nightmare, Rafe had decided to ambush you during the Kook's annual midsummer event. A few months later you married into the Cameron family. The event being of the most lavish, expensive, and largest weddings in the history of the Outer Banks.

Rafe made the decision that your honeymoon would be spent ‘setting up home’. You bid your family and friends a farewell before leaving with your husband. It was awkward enough that he'd been drinking for most of the night. What was supposed to be a beautiful ceremony quickly became a frat party. It was awkward enough when Rafe (who'd been drinking most of the night) tried carrying you across the threshold of what was your new home. He stumbles a few times, almost dropping you on the front steps. All you wanted was to go to bed after a long and eventful day.

In a fit of rage you rush up the stairs and into the master bedroom. You hadn't even changed out of your wedding dress. Deciding that it would be done tomorrow, as would everything else. It was tiring, putting on an act in front of hundreds of people. You were relieved for it to be over with. Until the harsh turning of the doorknob catches your attention. In came a very intoxicated Rafe Cameron, stumbling in with his tie already undone.

His hair was a mess from wrestling his groomsman, his expensive cologne overtaken by the stench of alcohol. All you want now is to sleep after being anxiety ridden for the past few hours. But the shuffling on the end of the bed made your stomach churn. Maybe if you pretended to be asleep he would leave you be.

Rafe reaches down to brush the back of his hand on your cheek. He couldn't help but chuckle at his fiancee--no, his wife. You're his wife now and he couldn't believe it. He grins from cheek to cheek, hovering over to study your features. You could hear Rafe talking to himself, "You're even prettier up close..."

Rafe was fine with the wedding day being for his wife, but it was the wedding night that belonged to the husband. 

He gets on his knees, preparing to strike. He pulls you but the ankle, dragging you across the bedsheets. He locks his arms around your thighs to pull you in. It was futile trying to fight back. Rafe rips away at the fabric, revealing what was for his eyes only. He doesn't waste time getting to work, suckling, lapping, and teasing at your sex.

When he starts to dip his tongue inside that's when you crumble beneath him. Your thighs shake when coming undone. A gush of arousal splashes his face. Rafe doesn't stop there, instead he keeps going until you're brought to tears cumming for the second time. He retreats with a triumphant look on his face.  

"Hey...." he whispers followed by a harsh grip on your jaw that turns your attention back to him, "Hey," his voice boomed. He held you in place, looking you right in the eyes when he states, "Look at me," a small pause follows, "No one is coming through that door to save you," he readjusts his grip, digging his fingers into your jaw, "No one is coming through that door, we're the only ones here," leaning in, "And if they heard they wouldn't care, they know their place," before lifting your skirt up, "It's about time you did too," Rafe held his cock in one hand, his other held your hip in place. He pumps his shaft a few times before rubbing it against your slick. He moans, "Oh fuck...can't wait to stuff you with it..." Rafe dips his head into the crook of your neck, his lips find that sweet spot. He suckles until he's certain there would be bruising.  

"You can scream all you want, no one’s gonna stop me,” he presses his leaking tip against the small opening, pushing it in without hesitation, “Not you…” he just his hips, “Not our families,” thrusting his cock inside, “No one…” fastening his pace. He’d been waiting for this moment for a long, long time. You had no idea that Rafe had willingly entered this marriage.

Can’t you see? He’s been in love with you for as long as he can remember. Yet you kept denying him repeatedly. Now Rafe has everything he’s ever wanted. He’s inherited the Cameron family fortune, gained the trust of his father as well as yours, and now he has you.  

He doesn’t stop thrusting his hips back and forth. Reveling in the feeling of you squeezing his member. It was exactly how he’d fantasized about. No more having to spend late nights wondering what you would feel like. He has you right where he wants. Rafe pulls down your top, exposing both breasts. He nips and suckles at them until they’re nice and bruised. He takes pride in being able to do so. Rafe squeezes your mouth open before pressing his lips against them. He sucks your tongue into his mouth, swirling it around his. The taste of liquor makes you nauseous.  

This wasn’t how you wanted to end the night. In the end you never had a choice. Your entire life revolving around men in power. A lamb sent to be slaughter, given only the right to live. Even if it meant living for someone else. Rafe presses his sweaty forehead against yours. He snarls, "You're my wife until I fucking die, do you hear me? Until death," his teeth sink into the flesh of your shoulder, digging hard enough to break skin.

A howl escapes your body as pain shot through it. Rafe held you close to him until he finally reached his limit and finishes inside. A deep, guttural moan is muffled into the bite mark. For a moment the two of you stay together until finally Rafe draws back. He’s a panting mess. He could practically feel how slick you became. He lets out a satisfying huff of victory. Rafe had won.  

A part of him wants to remember the day he finally got to take you. Then it hits him, “Wait…don’t move,” rummaging through a cabinet. He retreats down the hall. You could hear him searching for something in the unopened boxes. He then returns to you with a Polaroid in hand. He straddles your waist, aiming the lens at you. Rafe smiles, “Something to remember this moment...” he aims it right in your face, “...our first time as husband and wife,” before clicking it.

You could only give a startled look as you stare back at him. Like a deer caught in headlights. Rafe inspects the photo of you. He whistles at the beautifully captured moment. There you were, staring back at him with smudged lipstick and running mascara. You only blink as he stood there, snapping pictures like it was some heartfelt moment. What was supposed to be the most important day of your life, ended in the worst way imaginable.

"Smile for me Mrs. Cameron..."

Rafe was fine with the conditions of inheritance. In order to stay in his father's will, he would have to settle down first. But if there's one thing Ward taught him, it's to negotiate. Rafe remembers striking the deal in his father's office. For the first time ever, the young Cameron man put his foot down,

"No," Rafe states,

Ward looks up at his son, "I'm sorry?"

"I'm not getting married, not unless it's her," he's dead serious too. Ward sighs, he leans back in his chair, "Do you really want to marry this girl?" questioning his son's authenticity. Rafe nods, "It's always been her,"

Ward understands now that his son's mind is made up. Not even he could stop it, "Rafe...you have to understand that her father is a very important member of my company..." he starts, "...he's a bit of a... traditionalist," he pushes himself off the desk, approaching his son, "He expects a certain price for her hand, that I’m not worried about…” he held Rafe's shoulder.

Ward looks his son dead in the eyes to show how serious this situation was to both of their families, “Do not fuck this up, you only get one shot and then you're done, do you hear me? Done," he expects an answer. Rafe looks him in the eyes, there’s a park of determination in the young Cameron man, “I won't,” sealing the deal. Ward picks up his phone and dials up your father’s number, "My friend, you're needed at the office, it's about time we discuss family matters,"

The best decision Rafe made was making you Mrs. Cameron.

Until Death (Part 2)

Arranged Marriage AU: Dark!Husband!Rafe Cameron x Wife!Reader

Word Count: +2,021

Warning(s): +18, Non con, Domestic Violence, Humiliation, Branding, Forced breeding, Gun violence, Mild gore, Hints of misogyny.

Author's Note(s): I know this is over the top. I am on my period and only seek *violence*.

During the next few months, it had only worsened. Rafe was starting to feel comfortable around you now that his father isn’t keeping tabs. It was about time you had some marital training. From now on, no more hanging around those Pogue friends of yours. It was about time you started acting like a part of higher society. He won’t have you embarrassing him.

He’s let you get away with more than enough snarky remarks, and if you kept that stubborn attitude there will be consequences. Those days of rebellion are over now. He came up with the perfect routine to follow. As head of the house, Rafe expects certain things from you. To serve and obey like a good wife should.  

It took some time and effort but eventually you learned. Whatever it takes to ease that temper of his. You remember the first few weeks of training. When Rafe would chase you down the halls of the manor with a riding crop in hand. He wouldn’t hesitate to bend you over his lap if needed. He absolutely loved to play ‘cat and mouse’, taunting his prey before going in for the kill.

Rafe took pleasure in watching that flicker of hope burn out. When he would arrive home from a long day of work, he wants you waiting patiently at the door. As soon as he steps in you get to work, greeting him when he enters. You place a chaste kiss on his cheek. Rafe isn’t satisfied by your lack of effort. He doesn’t try hiding the obvious frown, “Sweetheart,” his voice is stern, “That’s not what I taught you,” he’s waiting for you to get it right.

When you lean in again, he wraps his arms around your waist. Rafe takes the opportunity to lift you a few inches from the ground. He places you back down with his hands still cupping your rear. He grips and squeezes at the flesh before delivering a harsh smack. Then Rafe finally let’s go. Now sporting a cocky grin on his face, “I’m starving, what’s for dinner?” he can afford a private chef but prefers a home cooked meal instead. It was his way of keeping you busy at home. He loves watching you on camera playing housewife.  

You walk with him the dining room where dinner awaits. It instantly improves his mood. Dinner was quiet. Mainly because Rafe did most of the talking. He would start with how his day was, then extensive detail of how his office life was, followed by how happy he was to be back home. You’ve already tuned him out. It took a while to realize he’d been calling your name.

By the time you’ve realized it he’s already lost his temper. He slams the dinner table hard enough to break out of that daydream you were currently in. You look up from your plate to find a very pissed off Rafe. You let out a string of apologies that are quickly shut down by him, “Don’t, not another word out of your mouth until we’re finished,” A quiet Rafe is never a good thing.  

Although you were exhausted from the multiple tasks today, you wanted Rafe to hear you out. So, you try to make up for it the only way you know how. Dressed in a seductive camisole that was hiding a lacy two-piece. As soon as Rafe spots you he’s at a loss for words. This time it was different, you decided to take charge by straddling his waist. You brought his hands to your hips before fastening your pace. Rafe stares back with hooded lids. There’s a look of hunger in his eyes. That’s exactly where you need him. Desperate and wanting.

He lifts his head to catch a breast, teasing the other with his free hand. You moan with pleasure, raising your hips faster to catch the rising orgasm. Rafe could feel you were close. His hand dips down to find that bundle of nerves. He gives it a few rubs before tugging at it. You instantly melt into a puddle of pleasure. Your head falls back as you felt the wave of pleasure hit. After coming down from your high that’s when you realize the slick between your legs. Rafe came, hard.

You were stuffed to the brim with his spunk. He held you close, gently turning the both of you onto the bed. Your head now pressed against his chest. Rafe doesn’t pull out, he doesn’t want to. He seemed much more relaxed than earlier. That when you decide now would be a good time to tell him, “Rafe…" you start to plea your case, “I miss my parents,” you just wanted some space. It was something he’d been dreading of since the beginning. Rafe knew very well you were a free spirit. It would take some time to break that out of you. He needed to make you more reliant on him. So, for the past few months he’d been tampering with your birth control.

Yet no news of a pregnancy was made. He assumes it was from stress. What was stressful he hadn’t a clue. He gave you everything. What more could you possibly want? He huffs, “Fine,” grabbing your jaw to face him, “But I’m coming along,” he’s not going to risk you falling out of line. The last thing he needs is for you to embarrass him. Tears of joy stream down as you kiss him repeatedly. He couldn’t hide the grin on his face. Not when his adorable wife was so doting over him.  

As each day passed, Rafe began to grow weary. He was nervous taking you out for the first time. His suspicions only grew when you start to pack a few bags. To his knowledge this was supposed to be a short trip. He chose the very day you were going to leave to start an argument. He'll be damned if he's sending his wife back to the cut. What if you ran away? Or worse, you running away with some Pogue. He'd grown suspicious for a while now.

It was the day of your trip. After waiting for Rafe downstairs, you try searching for his whereabouts. To your surprise, he was still sat at his desk. You couldn't believe it. He hadn't even bothered to pack his bags. Hell, he even had the gall to be upset. This wasn't fair, you were the one who was supposed to be in a bad mood.

Rafe starts, "Where is it?" he states. You roll your eyes, "Where is what Rafe?" as soon as he stands you step back. Already prepared for the worst as your hands fly in front, "Rafe..." tears begin to brim. You blink them away. It''s not like they would help. You sigh, "Where is what--" that's when he pounces, Rafe grabs you by the arm and pulls you to his desk.

He slams you against it with a 'thud'. All the air escapes your lungs. At that moment you start to cry harder. He growls in your face, "Where the fuck is it?!" Rafe had grown suspicious when you stopped wearing your wedding ring. He wants everyone to know you're off limits. You try to catch your breath, still attempting to muster up some words, “It doesn’t fit me anymore…”

“Bullshit,” "N-no! I swear! It doesn't fit me!" you're a sputtering mess. Tears and spit ran down your face. Rafe doesn't buy the act, not one bit. He wants you to prove to him your loyalty. He flips you over, pulling up your skirt before yanking down the garment. He aims his leaking tip against your folds. He fucks you against his desk, grunting into your ear a string of curse words and threats. Rafe reaches for something next to him, “You won’t wear the ring? Fine,” he picks up a wax stamp, still warm from earlier.

Still hot to the touch. Rafe presses his entire bodyweight on top of yours to prevent you from escaping. He traps your hand under his, isolating your ring finger from the rest. That's when you begin to panic, “Rafe! Rafe let go! Let go of my—“ You spot the tool in his hand. Now you were certain that he intends to burn you with it.

You thrash against his larger body, trying your best then break free form the grip he has on you. He takes the heated brand, hovering right above your digit. He then presses it tightly against your finger, ignoring the wail of agony escaping your lips. The smell of burning flesh consumes the room. A part of you wants to hurl from the stench alone.

When he pulls it away you cry harder. Rafe is in awe as he stares back at his initials now permanently burned into your finger. Fuck, he's never been more turned on in his life. Rafe thrusts his hips at a faster pace. He came with a roar, emptying a load deep inside. That's when he pulls something from his pocket. Your wedding ring. Rafe presses his lips against your ear and whispers, "Here, you won't be needing this," he drags the ring down your abdomen and past your mound. He coats the ring with your arousal before pushing it inside.

His fingers reach as far as they can go. Your breath hitches, feeling his thick digits stretching you. A whine escapes your lips. You clung to the desk for dear life. Rafe leans back in his chair, lighting up a cigarette to get a good view of his girl. He feet give your legs a light kick to part them. His cock twitches at the sight of his spunk leaving your womb. He watches as you attempt to push the ring out, evening offering to help get it out.

If the treatment wasn't humiliating enough, he would always find a way to make it worse. You turn around, now leaning against the desk with parted legs. His hands reach in between your legs. As one of them pushes a few fingers inside, the other toys with your clit. Rafe retrieves it with that same triumphant look after getting what he wants. This was the final straw. Your finger stung, you were tired and in unimaginable pain. Yet still, that spark of anger over came all senses, "Keep it, I want a divorce," with that you left his office.

You could hear Rafe's steps approaching and make a run for it. You beat him to the nearest guest room, locking the door behind. Rafe continuously slams at the door, "Don't even think about it! You're not leaving me! Do you hear me?!" Rafe screams your name at the top of his lungs. It startles you. When he starts to kick the door that's when you attempt to hide. Quickly finding a place under a bed. After a while the sound of Rafe's voice starts to die out. Hopefully his anger would subside, and this would all be over with. But all he could think of was how to get through this door.

A wave of relief is shortly lived. Until the sound of a gun firing is heard on the other side. Rafe shoots the door a few times until the lock finally breaks. You muffle a sob when you spot his feet standing right in front of the hiding spot. He calmly calls for your name, "Baby...please come out..." his voice is calm, too calm, "Don't make this harder for us," as if it would help. What other choice did you have?

You held out a hand. Rafe bends down to pull you out from underneath. He held you tightly, as if you'd disappear at any moment. He never sounded so desperate in his life, "You're not walking out on me," his grip tightens, "You will never leave me, do you understand?" he expects you to answer. Of course, you caved in, "I--I understand..." a stray tear escapes. Rafe's expression quickly changes. He swipes it away with the back of his thumb, "I love you, you know that, right?" his voice breaks, yet there are no tears.

That day you had to explain to your parents that you'd fallen ill. But don't worry, Rafe would take care of you. Through sickness and in health as promised.

Country Club Films

Dark!Camstar!Rafe Cameron x Reader x Dark!Pimp!Barry

Word Count: +7,293

Warning(s): +18, Non con, Nsfw gifs, Misogynist/sexist remarks, Manhandling, Loss of virginity, Human trafficking, Dark web, Mentions of cheating/infidelity. Non consensual stepcest, Force drug usage, Rafe is a huge slut and Barry is a sick freak, Blackmail, Mind break, Manhandling.

Author's Note(s): This is going to be a one-shot. Don't ask for a part 2 if you're not going to like/comment/reblog. I'm trying to catchup with real life and it's kicking my ass. Give a bitch a break ffs.

Offline Rafe is known as the long-reigning Kook king. But online he's known as one of the biggest camstars on the East Coast. When Barry, his former pimp, offers him a one-last film offer, well he just couldn't refuse. After all, it was just this once, right? Rafe began his career as a prostitute at a young age. It started off as something he did for fun, but when his dad cut him off that’s when he began working for a streaming service. He needed that quick cashflow if he'd going to survive in the Outer Banks.

At first, it started off as a hobby. Rafe was into voyeurism, he found that out at a young age. To dominate someone while everyone else knew. In the beginning of Rafe's livestreaming career, he started off as a solo act. He loved messaging complete strangers online, he especially loved the look on these women's face when he pulls his cock out. How their expression would change, the sudden stuttering at the sight of it. He loves when their eyes would rake up and down his girth, knowing full well they were admiring the sight of it. He'd jerk himself off in front of the camera, rubbing at his thighs while taunting his viewers. Rafe would edge himself off for each tip.

Rafe knows he's well endowed. Him having a pretty face and nice body was the cherry on top. He made himself comfortable with this newfound stardom. Becoming a sex worker was the last thing on Rafe's mind. In a span of a few months, Rafe was one of the biggest online stars. The best part is, no one else knew who he was. He found a luxury apartment by the beachside to live in, that's where he did most of his work. He even invited some of his clients for a solo video.

It was more of a hobby for him, he would secretly record these women and keep it in his inventory. As long as he was getting paid and looked good doing so, he could care less what the other women looked like. To him it was strictly business. Old, young, single or taken, it didn't matter. For him it was a side hustle to get back on his feet. Hell, some of them were his dad's former clients. Rafe earned enough to get him a luxury apartment by the beach with the well-earned income and cushiony life.

If she had a pretty face, then he'd do it in missionary. If not? He'd fuck her doggy-style. He had fucked up one day after failing to pay Barry back. He may have underestimated the Pogue drug dealer when thinking he could get away with not paying him full price. When returning to his home he noticed a window had been broken, the T.V. had been running. When Barry breaks into Rafe's apartment in search of his money owed, the last thing he expects is a built-in porn set. There Rafe found him, currently watching his last performance on his brand new T.V.

It was as if the Pogue knew he was there, "Country Club...where's my credit for giving you that name," he stands up from the recliner. His expression wasn't mad, in fact, it was quite the opposite. It started off with Barry suggesting that he'd pay him back. Whether Rafe was willing to or not. He doesn't have a choice. Barry knew of his dirty little secret. He has enough evidence to ruin the Kook's polished image. So, for the past few months Barry has been his personal pimp. It became a regular routine.

Barry would schedule the meetings with clients to make it easier. A quick suck and fuck to cover rent. Rafe worked hard to get to where he was. This isn't a side hustle. It took skill to get to where he is. Rafe is one of the highest ranking members for a reason. The once proud Kook-king was owned by some Pogue. For the longest time Barry had almost total control over his business. Rafe had to work hard for the past few months in order to gain control again. Even after gaining access to his social media, it was Barry who called the shots.

Rafe would be notified by Barry of a latest client, they would meet up at the country club, where Rafe did most of his dirty work. That, and a motel nearby. For Rafe, the country club was a hunting ground. He'd often go for married older women with neglectful husbands. He would be the face of their business, but Barry would be the backup in case things got ugly (or if an unsuspecting husband were to walk in). Rafe's steaming channel became popular as well. His online alias? Country club. Like the place he'd pickup his clients.

It was the first time Rafe had been this confident in himself. He had finally earned enough to make a living and have liquid income pouring in. He would never have to worry about money again. But it wasn't enough for Barry. He wanted power, control and fear. So, what better way than to start blackmailing their clients? They had the wealthiest women in the palm of their hands. For them, paying off a blackmail would be cheaper than a divorce. Rafe knows he could get away with it too. He knew exactly what these prim and proper women wanted: A good and hard fucking. They wanted to be dominated, controlled and degraded to their heart's contempt.

It was surprising how many women of high society were into the downright nastiest things. Rafe can give them all that and more. Rafe would choke them, slap them around a few times, sometimes even reducing these women into tears. Yet they always came back soaking wet. Their husbands weren't enough. They needed a good fuck to escape the pressures of being a Kook. Call it an act of community service if you will. After getting into a brawl with a married woman's husband, Rafe decides that he doesn't want to take in clients anymore. Barry convinces him of a newer strategy: Live streaming for bids. Soon he was making an easy six figures. Rafe considers himself to be an expensive experience.

Now that he had a stable income with his streaming service, he can work from home. Usually for commissions or requests by his clients. So far Rafe had been enjoying his life after retirement. At that point Rafe didn't care what anyone would say. After spending some time in the industry, he had gained a new sense of confidence. Immunity, if you will. For his entire life, Rafe had gotten away with just about anything. He knows he's making almost as much as his father now. On a good day, even more. Barry was on his payroll and kept quiet about it.

There's only one thing Rafe missed about working in the industry: The rush. Rafe was going to miss the thrill of doing whatever he wants to a complete stranger. It made him rock hard just thinking about it. He could do whatever he wanted and they would beg for it. These women would beg for him to ruin them. The best part was, they would always come back for more. More, more, more. Rafe went as far as to sneak into the houses of married women while their husbands were away. He had earned a black eye and fractured rib after being caught. He thankful for not having to worry about that ever again.

Yet still, there's a part of him that yearns for that adrenaline, if only he could balance it with his regular life. Rafe wanted to spend time with his family more than anything. He knows that Ward had been giving him shit for missing his sister's recitals. He'll try to make up for that.

He'd just got off the phone with his sister, promising to show up at her next show. Barry had been messaging his phone nonstop. Rafe groans, what was it this time? Rafe decides to call him, "What's up?" a short and simple statement. Barry sounded a bit muffled on the other side, "I'm coming over, tomorrow, and I've got a deal you won't regret," he sounds confident. Rafe was curious by the humor in Barry's tone, "What is it?" now wondering what had made the dealer so excited.

Barry promised Rafe that he wouldn't bring up films as long as he was getting paid, but this? This was different, "We're about to become millionaires, Country Club," with that he hung up. Rafe groans, rubbing the back of his neck. He was enjoying his retirement while it lasted. Like his father, he would take any opportunity given to him. A chance at receiving a million dollars? Shit, maybe one last time wouldn't hurt. Rafe might just be looking forward to fucking whatever old crone paid for his time.

Rafe had emptied his schedule just to meet up with the Pogue. He set up studio, making a simple bed on the floor nice and pretty. He even added a few pillows for comfort. He then waits for Barry to arrive, to kill the time Rafe would snort a few rounds. He already indulged in his expensive collection of alcohol until his throat went hoarse. Rafe wanted to be as intoxicated as he could possibly be if he wanted to make it bearable.

A buzzing noise from his alert system indicated that Barry was already in the lobby. Rafe had let him pass through. It had taken the dealer a while to get upstairs. In the meantime, Rafe had popped a special pill to keep the party going. There's a loud slam on his door. Rafe opens it to find Barry hauling a large suitcase. He'd a little sweaty from the travel. It wasn't easy sneaking onto Kook territory. Especially if you were as notorious as him.

He watches as his partner hauls the luggage inside, cursing as he finally tosses it onto the living room floor. Rafe looks out to see if there are any onlookers before shutting the door closed. He locks it before walking towards it, "What is that?" to which his friend ignores. Barry hurries to where the camera had been set. As soon as he realizes it was ready, he goes for Rafe's laptop, logging in to prepare for a livestream. Barry is quick with his moves, wasting no time. He kicks off a few prop pillows until the mattress is bare. This confused Rafe as he was told he'd be using props for the video.

Barry orders Rafe to help with setting up the room, "Get this shit off,"

"What?"

"We can't let them know where we are, gotta make this place a little shitty," Barry informed Rafe that the client had a taboo fetish for non-consensual roleplay. He wants this place to resemble an abandoned building. So, both of the men put in the effort to make it look just like that. Rafe places an old worn-out mattress in the center of his room. Anything personal was discarded of.

By the time they were done the room it resembled a scene from a torture porn film. Rafe suddenly jolts to the sound of loud rustling coming from the luggage. Apparently, Barry wasn't specific to what kind of prop would be used either. Rafe turns to it, "What the fuck is in there...?" his voice is in all seriousness, "What the fuck is happening?" his attention is fully on the noise coming from the container.

Barry hurries to the case, his hands are quick to open it, "Our client wants us to use prop," that's when Barry reveals a woman who had been kept inside. He hauls her by the underarms and pulls her out the case. Rafe stares at the woman then back at Barry. He tries to read his face, nothing. In fact, Barry seemed like the only one that was perfectly calm about all this. He effortlessly lifts the woman out of the case, dragging her to the bare mattress. He ignores her muffled crying and returns to the camera. Barry wants the angle to be just right.

Rafe couldn't believe what was happening. He can't keep his eyes off the woman. Her hands and legs had been bound by duct tape. Her face covered with a satchel. She had been wearing a leotard--but it was the ballet shoes that had him in the chokehold. Rafe had a thing for cute, delicate things. A strange fascination of his were Ballerinas. As soon as he spotted those shoes his brain started to malfunction. It gave a sense of femininity that he wanted to protect. It reminded him of a special someone from home.

Barry informs Rafe that the clientele was a very important person on the Island. Their decision to start streaming, was Barry's idea. He made sure to turn on the bidding option to collect some extra cash. It was two birds with one stone. Barry shakes her by the shoulder a few times to give a good scare. He does it just show just how much stronger he was. Barry nods to his accomplice, ushering him to come over. Rafe is hesitant when approaching the two. Barry finally shoves her back down with a 'thud'. Rafe isn't bothered one bit by that.

Was it so wrong that Rafe had been emotionally numb to all of this? Maybe it was the dope or maybe a part of him really didn't care. Either way this would be the last time he would ever need to make another film again. The Kook sighs, "Let's make this quick, I have to get to my sister's recital," he begins to strip himself of all clothing.

"Sarah?" Barry questions,

"No, the other one,"

Barry smirks, "Almost forgot about that one,"

Rafe strips himself of all clothing before approaching the mattress. He circles around her, like a predator stalking its prey. He eyes her like a hawk, yet there isn't a single thought behind those blues. Barry is in charge of the camera work. He made sure hold it steady as Rafe got to work. This had been more than what Rafe was used to taking. He was more buzzed than usual, and he knew it. But did he really care? He felt good, and that's all that matters. Fuck, Barry was getting hard at the thought of it.

He's always had a thing for her, but the bitch thought she was too good for him. One thing he couldn't stand being was a stuck-up Kook bitch. Barry grits his teeth at the memory of her laughing at him. Now he was her only saving grace, “Her family, they're looking for her, and get this: Her daddy is a big-time figure on the Island, the dude is loaded,” he starts feeding Rafe bit by bit of a fantasy, leaving out the most important details.

Barry mentions one last thing: "The client wants you to break her in," he's dead serious too. For a moment Rafe pauses, "You serious?" His brows furrow, "She's never had dick?" He couldn't believe it. Rafe groans at the thought of it. She was a good girl who had gotten into some trouble, and now these bad men were going to ruin her. Rafe could practically feel how heavy his balls were. Fuck, he's never wanted pussy this bad before. There's something about an unused cunt that just gives a man an ego boost. If it's a show the client wants, it's a show he'll get.

Rafe pins her down with his body weight, he chokes her out, admiring the way she would try to fend him off. It was adorable, she really thought she had a chance. He taunts her pathetic attempts, "C'mon...try harder...let's see if you have a chance..." at this point he really was playing with his food, "See? You can't, because I'm stronger than you, I can do whatever the fuck I want," he rips the thin fabric off for a dramatic effect, "Your daddy's not here to save you," knowing that would only make her cry harder. Apparently, her stepfather was a very important businessman. One of the wealthiest in the entire Outer Banks. One who just so happened to have a very pretty stepdaughter. Rafe questions why the old man hasn't fucked her yet. He knows that if it were him, he already would've.

Rafe grinds his hips against her clothed sex. He groans, "How about I be your daddy? Huh?" he taunts, "Say it, say it slut," he grips around her neck again. He could barely hear the gurgled cry that came from underneath. Rafe didn't want to calm her down. It would be more entertaining for the audience if there was a performance. It was the thrill of the chase that excites him the most. Rafe wants her to be sobbing by the time he's done with her. He tears at her top, groping at the exposed flesh. He relishes in the feeling of soft skin. It'd been a while since he's hooked up with anyone. During the past few months, Rafe had only produced solo films. For once, he prefers a tight cunt over his hand.

Barry reassures him that there wouldn't be a thing to worry about, "Just go with the flow," he had already set up the starting prices. As the livestream started his fans began to swarm on. Rafe had been impressed by the number of viewers, had they really missed him that much? He held her against his bare chest. Rafe gropes at her bare chest while reading the comments. He rests his chin on your shoulder blade, taking his sweet time reading each comment. He plays along, “What do you say guys should we fuck her cunt or ass first?” A string of pings goes off from the laptop as it’s being broadcasted. Complete strangers were rooting for him to ruin her.

He chuckles after reading the comment, "C'mon guys vote in the poll ass or cunt first," as if she were a piece of meat. A sinister smile is plastered on his face. He held her by the neck, tilting his face towards her ear, "You're not a person, you hear me?" his fingers add more pressure, "From now on you're mine," his other hand caresses her mound. His digits tease at her clothed core, "This cunt? Mine," another 'ping' came from his laptop. He looks right at the camera, "How much can we get for her cunt? Do I hear $100?"

Rafe enjoyed playing with his prey. He loved to hear their whimpers for mercy. Barry reads a few requests, "The fans want you to slap her," of course, Rafe couldn't let his fans down. He shoves her down. He swats at her rear, admiring the way it ripples with each crack. His hand lands on it again and again, until she was writhing in pain. He then pulls at the remaining fabric. Now exposing her to millions of viewers. Rafe wasn't the least bit shy. He'd gotten comfortable with showing off his body to the world.

He motions for his partner to get closer with the camera. Barry approaches, unbuckling his belt to release his half-hard cock. He pumps it a few until it gets hard enough to stand. His cock now pressed against his abs, already leaking with precum. Rafe wanted full access to her, in order to do so he'll need a little help, "Hold her down, need some room," he held the camera so that Barry could cut some tape off. As soon as her hands were freed, she began smacking around. Both men laugh at the woman's feeble attempts. As if she could actually hurt them.

Rafe is having way too much fun with the struggle. Barry pins her hands under his knees, hard enough so that it would hurt. He hands over the knife to Rafe. He glides it along her thighs as a warning. In a few seconds her legs were freed, but only for a moment. Rafe got to work parting both of her legs. He uses his bodyweight to pin both of her legs down. His fingers already gliding up and down her slit. He presses his finger pads right on her core, rubbing it vigorously. Poor thing hadn't a clue who this stranger was playing with her cunt. He could be anyone, that's the part he loved the most.

Rafe loves getting his clients all worked up, sometimes to the point of tears. Until they're practically begging for him to ruin them. He knows his audience wouldn't say a thing if they thought it was roleplay. Most of his popular videos were darker fantasies. He's had his fair share of fucked up roleplays. His fans wouldn't so much as bat an eye if he were to smack her around. Rafe toys with the woman's exposed slit as Barry pointed the camera at them. Rafe spat at her mound, coating it with his saliva before teasing it again. Barry held her down while Rafe got to work on making her fall apart. He can't take his eyes off of such a pretty slit. Rafe's cock twitches at the sight of her slickened slit. He was transfixed by the sight of her tight cunt puckering at him. As if it were begging to be ruined.

Rafe doesn't waste any time diving him tongue first. He wraps his lips around the entrance, suckling at it like a starved man. Rafe starts with slow, strong licks. He made sure to look at the camera to capture a POV for the audience, before flattening his tongue against her mound. He presses the muscle along her slit, dragging it up and down. Rafe parts for a moment to spit a wad before lapping against her sex. He suckles along the sides, making sure to get her all hot and bothered. If there's something he's good at, it's eating pussy.

For dramatic effect, Rafe rubs his head from side to side, humming so that she could feel just how deep his tongue was inside her. Rafe retrieves for a moment, but only to tease the audience, "Bitches love when you bite it," Rafe jokes. He's had quite the experience as a giver. He knows just the right amount of pressure to bring a woman to climax. His teeth tease at her sensitive pearl. Her thighs quake from the pressure. Barry dares his friend to continue the torment, "Give it a pull, she can take it," and so he does. His thick fingers tug at her poor clit. A frantic cry is all he needed to hear before pressing the first digit inside. Shit, she was tight.

When he tries so curl his finger a howl of pain escapes. A swift kick lands right on his nose, landing with a loud 'crack' sound. Barry couldn't help but let out a burst of laughter. Rafe backs away, retreating to inspect the damage done. That's when Barry mentions something he should've done earlier, "Oh yeah, forgot to mention, this one is still intact," he forces her legs apart, parting her folds to reveal what Rafe hadn't bothered spotting. Before Rafe could pounce on her, Barry pulls her up against him. He tries balancing the camera but eventually lets it rest on a chair nearby. That way he could have more control over her.

He grips the back of her knees, exposing her full to a very pissed off Rafe. He knows that the Kook always held a grudge. Once his mind is set, there's no stopping him. Barry decides to twist the knife, “They want you to break her in,” he lets her go, raising his hands in the air so that Rafe is free to perform. He pulls her in by the ankles, dragging her across the mattress. He flips her over, pulling his belt from his waist before swatting it at her a few times. He ignores her crying, only using more force when she tries to run away. He doesn't stop, not until she's screaming at the top of her lungs. But it's not enough for Rafe's bruised ego. She embarrassed him in front of his fanbase. He needs to make sure that never happens again.

Rafe presses his fat tip along her folds. He collects whatever slick is there, still glaring at the masked woman as if she were the scum on earth, "God I can't wait to rape this bitch," he uses his entire body weight to thrust forward. A howl of agony is heard underneath the mask as it starts to soak with tears. Rafe's nails dig into her hips, hard enough to break skin. He pounds deep into her tight cunt. Rafe groans, "Shit...that's some good fucking pussy," as he fucks her into the mattress. Rafe had trouble making her stay still. He keeps having to pull her back in. Barry, being the friend that he is decides to help Rafe out. His shoe lands on her back, pinning her to the mattress below. He held it right against the back of her neck, mushing it down every time she squirms.

The sounds of skin slapping against skin has Barry hard as a rock “Shit country club…I can hear you in her guts,” if that didn’t give Rafe the biggest ego boost he needed to continue. Rafe huffs at Barry, “Oh yeah?” His voice sounding cockier from the statement. He wraps his strong arms around her waist before lifting her against his chest. Rafe fell back with a 'thud', revealing to the audience a full view of his cock burred balls-deep inside. Barry held the camera carefully, he hovers the device over the woman's slit, pointing it to where Rafe's cock sunk in. He captures Rafe's thick cock deep inside her weeping cunt. His balls slapping against her skin as he fucked her like a feral animal. He’s had a good fucking before but not like this. This time he has full free range to do whatever he wants.

Barry nears the two, he wants a closer look at his pretty little victim. He pulls and tugs at her tits until a muffled sob escapes. He then starts to smack them around, letting them bounce as Rafe abuses her cunt. Rafe moans at the sensation of her walls squeezing his cock with each slap. When Barry releases them, Rafe is quick to take over, his hands grip at them as hard as he can. He groans at the feeling of her cunt pumping him. Barry’s eyes rake over her naked body. He could see the indent of Rafe’s cock inside her cunt, palming at his own growing erection. He takes his sweet time examining their pretty little victim. Barry presses his hand against the indent of Rafe’s cock, “Oh fuck…can you feel that?” His palm presses harder until a squeal is heard from under the mask.

Barry chuckles, “Shit, Country Club is fucking your guts out,” a crude remark. Rafe couldn’t help but grin at that remark. He’s always been well endowed, but hearing that his cock’s imprint could be seen? It went straight to his head. Then an idea hits him. Barry spits a thick wad in his palm, his hand reaches in between her legs. He starts to massage her slit, his fingers tracing that sensitive button right above her stuffed cunt. As soon as her toes start to curl he stops, giving her a moment to prepare for an orgasm. Then he slaps her sensitive bundle of nerves as hard as he can. He watches as her mound bounces from the impact. A howl of agony pours out from under the satchel as she tries her best to close her legs.

Barry isn’t having it. He forces her legs open while Rafe fucks up and into her channel. Barry encourages him to keep going, “You gonna get her nice and pregnant huh Country Club?" he taunts, knowing damn well what he was doing. Rafe growls into her ear, letting him primal instincts take over, "'M’gonna fucking breed you, you hear me? This cunt is gonna give me a baby,” he juts his hips faster. Sweat collects on his forehead, “Gonna show you off to the whole town, let them know that it’s my baby in there…oh fuck!” His breathing became erratic as he began to pick up pace. Rafe growls as his cock sunk back into her warm channel. He squeezes her tits, "Can't wait for these to get full,"

Barry huffs, now jerking off to the sight of it, “You gonna make her a single mom, Country club?” Barry jerks his cock at the sight of it. He groans at the sight of her abused cunt filled with Rafe’s spunk. He lets out a faint sigh, “Damn country club, didn’t know you were this pent up,” to which Rafe nears her ear, "Imagine that, you getting knocked up by a complete stranger," he huffs, "Can you even hear me?" Rafe reaches for the cloth, but before he could remove it, Barry swats his hand away, "No, not until we're finished," that was part of the deal, "Her stepdad is an important Kook," never stating who he was. Rafe hums with delight. If only he could see the look on the stranger's face after finding out his stepdaughter had been absolutely ruined for any other man.

Rafe came, hard. He made sure to drain his balls deep inside her pussy. He sunk his teeth into the flesh of her shoulder blade, ignoring the wail from underneath the satchel. Rafe let's out a deep, gutteral moan, finally coming down from his high. He throws her limp figure onto the mattress so that he could catch his breath. He reads the comments section of his stream. Each fan would send a bid higher than the previous one.

This was the most bank he's made in a while. He reads the requests, making sure to take a mental note. Rafe returns to her, lying limp on the mattress. Her abused cunt leaking thick wads of spunk. Rafe couldn't help it, he just loved to shove his fingers in there. He'd play with her pussy, despite her whines. Rafe loves inspecting it, like some sort of toy he could use and abuse.

He flips her over, rubbing at her slit again. He bites his bottom lip, "C'mon....give me another one..." his fingers began to pick up speed. He waited to see the signs. When her thighs would quake before crumbling apart. He knew exactly what he was doing, "Ohh did I hit that sweet spot princess?" he taunts, "If you didn't like that, then you're gonna hate this..." Rafe wasn't done with her punishment, he wasn't even close to finishing. Rafe made sure to duct tape a vibrator to her inner thigh.

He parts her folds, pressing the round tip of the toy against her bundle of nerves. He then held her thighs together, using fresh tape to keep them closed. With the vibrator now pressed snugly against her pussy. He leaves the living room to grab a drink, asking if Barry wanted anything in the fridge. But the Pogue would rather jerk off to the pretty Kook trying to fend off an orgasm. Rafe returns with a cold beer in hand, he hands it over to the Pogue as the two men clink their drinks, saluting a 'cheers' to the fans watching.

They could hear her sobbing as her hips swayed for release. Both men mock the sounds that came from their victim. Barry and Rafe mimic her voice. Rafe was actually laughing at what he’d done. There was a smug look on his face as he re-watched part of the video. He's visibly smiling in it. A part of him wonders why Barry hasn’t joined in. A chance to break a virgin in? He doesn't know a single man that wouldn't take the chance. Barry lets him know, "The clientele wanted to see the best of the best, Country Club," he shrugs it off. Rafe doesn't think twice about it. He's too high to use his brain right now.

Rafe returns to where they left her. He reaches in between her legs, his thick fingers part her folds, letting his cum leak out. He whistles, "Shit....I really did a number on you," he could tell she was close and decides to help the poor thing out. What Barry says next came off as a challenge, "Bet you she's a squirter," only one thing can determine that. Rafe nods to the camera, "Get closer," he wants the audience to get a better look at how a professional does it. Rafe's fingers digits start stretching her drenched cunt again. Soon, they rapidly pumping in and out of her core. Then a gush of arousal pours out. Barry whistles at the sight of it, cheering on his partner.

Rafe hums, "Such a pretty pussy...." he moans, swiping his thumb at it. He collects the juices from her leaking hole, "I don't think she's ever came this hard," bringing his now slick digits to his mouth to taste, "Hmm...so fucking sweet," he purses his lips, "Little coppery," he could taste the tinge of blood on his tongue. It excites him, "I've gotta fill you up baby...gonna make sure you're nice and full," he squeezes at her breasts, pulling and tugging at the sensitive skin, “These are gonna fill in too," he latches his lips to a free breast, suckling at it like a starving man.

Rafe pops his mouth off for a moment. He swats at her tits, gripping them as hard as he can. A yelp escapes her lips before she's crying again. Rafe coos, "Shhh...shh...you 'needa calm down baby," he talks to her as if she were a child. Then an idea hits him, "We needa put some in her," which confuses Barry for a moment, "Her what?"

"Put some in her pussy, then she'll calm down," Rafe couldn't tell if it was because of the adrenaline or drugs. He doesn't care though, he’s in pure bliss right now. He wants to keep chasing that feeling. An idea hits him. Rafe retrieves an LSD tab from his pant pocket. He looks up at the camera. He sticks out his to tongue for the viewers to see, placing the drug on it. He lets it dissolve a bit before delving it deep inside her. His lips wrap around her slit as he suckles at the nerves. He knew those sick fucks wanted to see something with absolute filth in it. Why not go all out?

Rafe watches as she slowly starts to go slack. Her limbs flail for a moment before finally going limp. Barry couldn't help but laugh at her reaction. Rafe joins in, grinning from ear to ear at the now demobilized woman. Barry jokes, “She’s too doped up to know where the fuck she's at," causing Rafe to laugh ever harder. Both of them not realizing her feeble attempt to crawl away.

Rafe shakes Barry's shoulder, "Look at that..." he nears, crouching down at her, "So fucking cute..." for a moment he just watches her. Rafe tilts his head, "There's nowhere to run," he doesn't understand why she was still trying. He stands up, his leg pushes against her rib, shoving her to the floor. When she tries to pull herself back up again, he does the same thing only harder. Which brings him to the question: What would it take to really break her?

He flips her over, pressing his body against hers on the floor. She starts crying again when he sinks his cock in her. She's dizzy, scared and confused. Rafe is starting to get annoyed by the dramatics. He wraps both hands around her throat and gives a squeeze to shut her up. It does the exact opposite. She starts to cry even harder this time. Rafe grits his teeth, "Stop, stop crying," Rafe squeezes harder this time, intending to choke her out until she complies. Rafe shakes her a few times just to hear her cry harder. He could feel her walls pulsing from the lack of air. Rafe moans, thrusting his hips at the feeling of her squeezing his cock. He rolls his hips from the sensation. A deep, guttural moan escapes his throat. Fuck...she felt heavenly.

It had been four hours since then. Barry and Rafe would draw little tally marks on her skin every time they came. Soon the few lines turned into small groupings along her thighs and breasts. Barry had written a few words across her skin for the kick of it. Rafe had added some words himself just for the sake of it. ‘Suck me’ had been written on both breasts, ‘Cock sleeve’ was scribbled on her bare mound, ‘Cum dumpster’ had been scribbled on her rear. A few more tally marks could only be seen on her inner thighs. By the end of it the poor thing was brain dead. Her voice had gone hoarse from the hours of screaming.

Rafe felt sorry for missing his sister's recital. He'll have to make up for it. Right now he was just too fucked up to do anything. Rafe was drained, his balls are empty but hey, at least he's way richer. He shares a blunt with Barry. Both of them taking short puffs from the bud. Rafe was still cockwarming his new pet. Every now and then rolling his hips. It's not like she was there anymore.

They broke her, mind and body. As the prices began to rise, so did the poor woman's torment. Barry passes over the blunt. Rafe takes a few huffs. It was getting late and by then he was more than satisfied with the money they accumulated. Rafe closes his eyes, turning his head to his companion, "What do you think we should call it?" suggesting a name for the video. Barry pauses for a while. He turns to the Kook and grins, "How about....sibling bonding?"

Rafe pauses for a moment, turning to his accomplice, "What do you mean by that?" Barry only smiles back, "I think you know," "Know what?" a feeling of dread starts to consume him. There's a gut feeling that something was terribly wrong. All color drains from his face as Rafe releases the woman. He scrambles away from her. He's never sobered up so fast in his life. Rafe quickly changes into his clothes. He checks his phone to read the last few messages.

-Promise me you won't miss it Rafe! I'll message you when I get back home, ok? Love you ❤ 1:15pm -Where are you? I don't want to be late :( 2:49pm -You promised me you'd make it in time. 3:08pm -Never mind, your friend offered me a ride. 3:25pm

Rafe read the text messages over and over again. His hands can't stop shaking as he almost drops the phone. He doesn't look back, afraid of the unenviable truth, "I'm uh...I'm gonna head out, my sister she--she's waiting for me," just as Rafe was about to leave he hears Barry, "Sarah?" his face is expressionless, only his brows were raised. Yet his eyes were cold and calculated. Barry only ever gave that look right before fucking them over. The hell is he planning now?

"No..." Rafe answers. Barry purses his lips, "Is it...Wheezy?" as if he didn't know anything, "Oh...that's right, there's another one," as if he never spoke with her. Rafe turns to him now, obviously annoyed, "She's waiting for me at home," now demanding to leave. Barry raises a brow, "You think so?"

"I know so,"

"Sure?"

"Dude, why are you so interested in my sister?"

"Step-sister,"

"Listen man, I've gotta go, she's waiting for me," but before he could leave, Barry starts to laugh, "I think you know where she is, Country Club," and for a moment, Rafe pauses, he thinks about what Barry just said. Rafe faces Barry. He looks him dead in the eyes, "What the fuck are you saying?" he approaches the mattress, "What the fuck do you mean--" almost choking on his words, "...What do you mean by that...?" there's a strong feeling of despair that takes over his senses. Rafe felt like he was going to puke. Barry couldn’t help it, he knows he should’ve told him. But if Rafe knew he was fucking his own stepsister, well, he’d stop right there.

Rafe starts to hyperventilate. He fell to his knees, realizing the weight of what he had done. In the past few hours, the two men had put you through the most abusive experience of your life. Rafe used to be excited hearing the ‘ping’ that came from his comment section. To him, that meant money was being sent to directly into his account. Hearing them now made his stomach turn. Tears form in the corners of his eyes as he stares back at you, “That…that’s my stepsister--“

“I’ve seen the way you look at her,” Barry cradles her in his arms, as if they were a doting couple. Rafe couldn’t believe this was happening, “You’re sick…” he stumbles backwards. Barry glares at him, “You were balls deep inside her, but I’m the one who's sick?” he doesn’t give Rafe a second glance.

Money was tight and Barry needed to create the most depraved film yet. Something that was so hot yet so fucking wrong. Barry never mentioned who the buyer had been. The brother of Rafe's last affair. A married woman who had been blackmailed by the two men. After taking her own life, her brother wanted revenge. So, he waited, planned, and plotted while Rafe thrived while living in figure eight. He hired Barry as a part of his sick revenge scheme.

Barry of course complied. After all, it was mainly Rafe's fault for sneaking out to see said client. After losing one of their most valuable customers, Barry had to pin the blame on someone. Who knew it would produce one of the greatest film's he's ever made? It has an equal amount of shock and lust, combined into a four-hour long video. Barry lifts her up and into his arms. He cradles her against his chest, carefully removing the sack. For a moment, Rafe is in a state of shock. Only staring at them.

Barry gently cradles her face, he holds her up to Rafe, “C’mon Country Club, give her a lil kiss,”

Rafe felt sick to his stomach. He fell to his knees and Barry was capturing it all. His final end of the deal was being completed: Film Rafe Cameron having a break down in front of millions of viewers. His fans watched as Rafe started to scream at the top of his lungs. He held the sides of his temples. Refusing to believe what he had done. What he did to you.

It wasn't supposed to be this way. Rafe wanted to to finish one last film then be done with it. Then he’ll quit and live a regular life. Rafe regrets ever missing your recital, he regrets not answering you sooner, he should've never started this thing in the first place. Never in his life had he abused someone to that extent. He felt a strong wave of anxiety taking over as he spilled his guts on the floor, puking out the alcohol from his system. Rafe began to panic, turning his head to face the screen as he stares back at the lens. Now the entire Outer Banks will know what happened.

Kook for Rent

Dark!Virgin!Topper Thorton x Reader x Dark!Stepbro!Rafe Cameron

Word Count: +1,612

Warning(s): +18, Non con, Bondage, Human trafficking, Mentions of past stepcest, Forced prostitution.

Author's note(s): I've been meaning to finish this off before I deep-dive into studying.

Rafe would consider Topper to be his best friend. So of course, him being the best friend that he is decides to make Topper's dream come true: A chance to fuck his cute stepsister. Rafe is well aware of just how many guys would kill to spend the night with the Kook princess herself. He knows what your market value is and decides to take advantage of the opportunity.

Rafe counts the cash in hand, licking the pad of his thumb before raking through the stack of bills. His dad had cut some of his allowance out for not keeping an eye on Sarah, yet you weren't given the same punishment. It wasn't fair. So, what better idea than to rent you out to his best friend? He smirks at the heavy wad. Topper's family earned well more than his did, one of the few reasons why he tolerates the Kook. That and how he's known him since they were kids. Topper would never turn against him, even if he wanted to.

Rafe knew that Topper was head over heels for you. He's seen the way Topper would glance at you, when he thought no one else was watching. Of course, he wouldn't admit it, he's not the type to cross that boundary unless the feelings were returned. But if given the opportunity, he'd jump your bones. Rafe isn't going to let his friend die a virgin, not if he can help it. As soon as he finishes counting the money he leads his friend down the hallway to where your room was. There you were, bound and gagged to the bedpost.

Rafe made sure you were presentable, after all, Topper is a special guest. This is the first time he's ever ventured into your room. Different pastels and pinks littered the place. A few stuffed animals had been tossed aside in the struggle. Your hair had been messy during the fight. Rafe made sure to dress you in that one slip on that would drive any man crazy. For a moment, Topper couldn't believe it. He'd finally have a chance with the Kook queen herself. Who wouldn't want this? You were everything he's ever dreamed of. Valedictorian, top of their class, hell, you were even prom queen, yet here you were, presented just for him.

Before he could approach any further, Rafe places a hand on Topper's shoulder, "Listen, man, there's a reason why I chose you, I don't want anyone else doing this," He looks his friend dead in the eyes, "It's her first time too y'know?" Rafe eases his friend into it. Topper raises his brows at that statement, his pupils are blown as he looks your way. When would he ever get another chance like this? Both of them are sat on either side of the bed.

You glare at the two men with weary eyes, mascara now running down both cheeks. Each time one of them would approach, a swift kick would be sent their way. Topper had to dodge a few times until Rafe finally took charge. His hands immediately wrapping around your neck and squeezing as hard as he could. He doesn't stop, even when your face starts to change color.

Topper tries pleading with with him, "C'mon man! She can't breathe!" worried that his friend may have taken it too far. Rafe doesn't let go despite Topper's pleas until you almost pass out. When he releases his grip, an angry mark is left behind. You try to catch your breath despite the lack of air. It became clear that the gag wasn't helping one bit. Topper felt weary of the circumstances of how you ended up like this.

Rafe glares at his best friend, "Yeah, but you're still here," he knows how to read people, what makes them bend to his will, "You know she used to have a mouth on her?" he chuckles, "Fixed that shit up," Rafe grabs a leg while you're still drowsy and ties it at the end of the bed frame. He repeats this action for the other leg before laying at your side, "Sometimes you've gotta slap a bitch around, or else they'll feel like they're in charge," pointing a taunting finger in your face, "Remember this, I own your ass, you so much as take another breath, it's because I allowed it," He then raises both hands in the air, nodding for his friend to proceed, "Go on, she won't do that again," he smiles triumphantly.

For a moment, Topper is hesitant. Should he really be doing this? Rafe rolls his eyes, "There's a reason why I chose you, Top," Rafe needed to have Topper trust him, "I could've let Barry fuck her first, but I chose you," Rafe drags down the waistband of your panties, "All this, just for you," revealing the jewel plug to his friend. Topped let out an audible groan at the sight of it. He could feel the strain of his cock swelling under his shorts. Rafe parts your legs for a better angle. His hands grip at each cheek, parting your folds to give Topper a good view. Rafe made sure to lube up that pretty cunt of yours, he left the plug inside your ass in case Topper wanted to pay extra.

Topper juts his hips, he groans at the friction. He rubs his tip in between both breasts. A small trail of precum already leaking through, "F-fuck...she feels so soft..." Rafe made sure you'd use the extra soft lotion, the sparkly kind. Of course, it'd make Topper go crazy, what guy wouldn't? Glitter tits? Is that not every man's dream? He jerks himself off, using your tits for the extra friction. He toyed and played with both breasts until they peaked. His brows furrow, indicating that he was close, "Fuck man...she looks so pretty like this..." In a few seconds he'd already came in heavy waves, choking out a heavy groan before emptying a load. His cheeks were now a vibrant hue from the first round. His eyelids fluttering shut as he spread his seed against your bare chest.

Topper parts from you for a moment to catch his breath. He admires the view below him. More specifically that doe-eyed look on your face. He pokes out his tongue to lick his lips. Rafe drags the chair from your vanity closer to the bed, he plops his feet on your bedside. He lets Topper take charge for now. So far, his best friend was learning fast. Topper wipes at your tears, cooing a string of apologies, "Shh...sh... you're okay..." he swipes a stray tear with the back of his thumb gently. Rafe rolls his eyes at the sentimental act, "Jeez, Top, you're too soft on the slut," He clicks his tongue, alerting his friend to turn around.

Rafe then tilts his head to the bottle of lube and condom placed on the nightstand, "The bitch is already worked up, all you gotta do is fuck her now," as soon as those words hit your ears another muffled scream escapes. You thrash violently against the bindings, ignoring the searing pain of rope being dug into raw skin. Rafe lept from his seat, "Hey, hey, enough of that," he scolds, "I'm protecting you, what do you not understand? It's either Topper or Barry and we both know which one you'd prefer," as if you had a say in any of this. You glare back at the two men, giving them a death stare. It doesn't faze the Cameron heir, not one bit, "Stop being such a fucking baby," Rafe knew you could take much more, so why was Topper being such a fucking softie?

Topper shrugs of his friend, tuning him out as he wrapped himself up. He coats the condom with a light about of gel before rubbing it against your bare folds. He' g's been waiting for this for a long, long time. He presses his tip against the opening, grunting at the sensation, "Fuck...she's really warm," Topper's never felt this good in his life. He starts off at a slow pace, his eyes are mesmerized by the sight of his cock sinking deep into your channel. He carefully pumps his shaft, reveling in the feeling of a warm cunt squeezing him.

Topper groans, "Fuck....I'm really your first huh?" slowly but gently, picking up pace. He was much different than Rafe, gentler. What Thorton hadn't known, was that the Cameron boy had beaten him to it. After catching you sneaking out, Rafe decided that the best form of punishment was to pop your cherry. He hadn't told Topper this. Instead, he wanted to build that level of trust. Even if that meant putting you on the line.

Rafe knew Topper hadn't been with any other girl before. Of course, he wouldn't know the difference. You moan into your gag, eyelids fluttering shut as you fought the approaching orgasm. Rafe licks his lips at the sight of it. His best friend fucking his step-sister shouldn't turn him on this much. But something about it seemed so fucking hot. Shit, maybe he could sell the footage. Make it into an amateur porn. He's been tight on cash recently, might as well put you to good use. But no, he already had enough blackmail to keep you in line. He knows there's no coming back from this. He's already ruined you for any other man. Rafe owns your cunt and ass. He spent weeks making sure to train you well. You were a fighter, yes, but he's much, much stronger.

tell me lies

WARNINGS: DUB-CON, themes of murder and grief, gaslighting, use of a gun, angst, betrayal, forced relationship, pregnancy, dark!rafe cameron x peterkin!reader

Summary: The murder of your mom leads to the downward spiral of your life. You couldn't have wished for a more supportive boyfriend to help you through it. Retrospectively you should have. l wc: 3.6k

Notes: I've been cravinggg this mf trope, i love when he reeks of desperation, what can i say? also the second section of this is lightly inspired by my sweet @softcoreparadise ifykyk.

18+ ONLY. MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

“Y/n what the- what are you doing?!”

Your heart races beyond compare at the given situation. Not in a million years would you have guessed that you’d be in a predicament like this.

The wet sleeve of your hoodie clings to your arm as your finger trembles over the trigger. Droplets of water trickle down the barrel, reminding you of just how lucky you were to dig it out of the water before he could catch up to you.

The road’s dark, aside from the light shining from his truck. You can feel subtle warmth along your backside, radiating from the engine, while his headlights cast a spotlight on him.

“Are you crazy?” He stares at you wide eyed. “You- you’re serious right now? You’re trusting Pogues over me now? You can’t see that they’re fucking lying to you y/n!? It’s what they do!” 

“Rafe please!”

He steps a foot closer and instinctually you straighten your arms out, tightening your grip on the barrel. You squeeze your eyes shut for a split second yet the warm droplets still manage to fall down your face. 

How could you have known that today would end like this? All because you happened to be picking up food from the wreck at the same time they were there.

You had been sitting at a table, patiently waiting for your order to be called out, when you were ambushed by the five of them. After a few preposterous sentences came from their mouths you were getting up out of your seat, and walking away from them with the purest look of disgust.

You didn’t know why they would go out of their way to say something like that to you. You didn’t have a problem with them. Your boyfriend did, but you had always been cordial to them. The jarring interaction with them had you understanding that they didn't even deserve that. What they said- no accused your boyfriend of was low even for them.

You’re well aware that Rafe isn’t an angel, but alluding to him being involved with your mom’s murder? It was more than foul. It was downright sick.

Later that evening, when you were at Tannyhill, Rafe could tell something was off with you. After enough of his prying you confessed what happened. Initially you didn't want to tell him because it's still a sensitive subject for you. It had only been a couple months and it was still hard to talk about her.

Your lashes batted uncontrollably and you sniffled softly as you told him. When your mouth shut, he entirely flipped out. Not at you of course, but at the fact that they would say some shit like that.

Immediately he grabbed his keys and left the room. You followed him out and tried to stop him from doing something he’d regret, but his mind was already made up. You had no power in stopping him so what did you do?

You hopped into the passenger and pleaded with him.

He wasn’t having any of it though. The streets were a blur as he sped down the road. At some point he had reached over to the glove compartment, in front of you, and pulled out his gun.

You fully anticipated him getting violent but that was a little too far.

He fiddled with what you vaguely remember as the magazine, checking to see if it was loaded. When you expressed your concern he responded to you in a way that let you know he was dead set on hurting someone. 

A big part of your heart appreciated that he was so willing to defend you, but at the same time you didn't want anyone getting seriously hurt. No matter what they said to you.

You had never seen him that upset. You hated that it crossed your mind but he honestly looked as if he were ready to kill each and every one of them.

You didn’t realize you were crying until his hand brushed your thigh.

“Why are you treating me like I’m the bad guy?” He brought his fingers to his chest, frantically looking away from the road at you. “They- they disrespected you. While you’re grieving at that. You think I’m just gonna let that shit slide?”

“Can we please just go back. I don’t want this.” 

He shook his head, “Nah.” 

“Don’t I have a say?! Like you said I’m the one grieving! Shouldn’t it matter what I want!” 

“Listen to me" He squeezed your thigh, "If you let a pogue disrespect you and do fuckin nothing about it, they’ll get real comfortable doing that shit again.”

You frowned at how hellbent he was.

“If they got the balls to say that bullshit to your face, think about who else they're telling this- this story to. What if they tell Shoupe, hmm? You know how that looks for me?”

“Who cares?! You understand that this wouldn’t exactly help your case right?! It’s clearly some sick joke for them to get under your skin. And it’s fucking working.”

“My case? My case?!” He repeated your words back to you, glancing between you and the empty road.

“Yes! Your case!” 

No matter how silly or outlandish. You’re certain that out of respect for your mom Shoupe would investigate every lead he got. Not that he would believe them.

However, it would be an entirely different story if Rafe attacked them tonight. 

Then that’s when it dawned on you. Why did he even care if they told the cops? It wasn’t like he didn’t have a solid alibi.

“You’re acting as if they’re right or something” the words fell from your mouth without a thought, simply out of frustration. You knew you didn’t believe that, but by the way the vehicle abruptly stopped you couldn’t say the same for your boyfriend.  

“Get the fuck out.”

You turned in his direction, and it was like a stranger was staring back at you. You frowned deeply at him, and he added on to his previous words. 

“Don’t ever say some shit like that to me. I’m trying to defend you and-and you take their fucking side?!”

“I didn’t mean it like that! You should know that Rafe! You’re so blinded by wanting to teach them a lesson that you’re not considering how I feel. Why do you even care this much? Why cant you just drop it.” 

You unbuckled your seatbelt, readying yourself to get out the car, even though you knew damn well that he really didn't want you to leave.

He let out a huff before putting the gun on the dash. He reached out to you, gently cupping your chin. You were hesitant but eventually leaned into his touch. His lips met your forehead, before he pressed his head to yours, your noses brushed each others, and you closed your eyes feeling ok in this little moment. 

“I care this much because I love you.” You parted your lips at his stubborn defense, ready to tell him that if he cared he’d leave it alone. You tried to pull back but before you could his lips were on yours. His hand tugged you in at your jaw overwhelming you with his passion.

When he pulled away you sighed, and he noted you in all your frustrated glory. 

You were struggling to contain a rogue sniffle, when you felt him set the cold gun in your lap, “Hold onto it if it makes you feel better. I can get my point across without it.”

He put the car back in drive and you don’t know why you said what you did next, maybe because he still hadn’t dropped it. 

“Where were you Rafe. Tell me again.” He reeled back and tilted his head at you in shock. You felt dumb for asking but couldn't help it, “M'not saying that I doubt you. Just need you to tell me again so I don't feel fucking crazy.”

You knew where he was that day, but something in you was itching to be reaffirmed. You needed it so bad for some reason. 

His lips slowly parted, “I was crashing at Barry’s. Remember 'cause my dad kicked me out?” 

Your lip curled downward, you swore he told you that he was hiding out at the Glisson’s beach house. Your fingers steadied the cold gun on your thigh.

“No, you told me you were at the Glisson’s. I remember because you mentioned that they were in Sun Valley at the time.” 

He looked at you, and you looked at him and for a split moment there was this glint in his eyes. 

“Yeah. Yeah you’re right I did stay there. I crashed earlier at Barry’s then went over there.”

Your mind began wondering then, replaying that look he gave you. 

“I guess that makes me feel… better” you tried to lie to yourself to feel better. It didn’t work though, specifically because you noticed how he let out a deep breath. Like it was a relief to hear you say that.

In that moment your mind wandered back to that glint in his eyes… 

That was when you put two and two together that maybe Rafe wasn’t so adamant on handling this because of you. Maybe it’s because he was really trying to protect himself. What if they were right, you thought.

That was when you looked at the lock, then the door handle. Without much further contemplation you swung it open and hurdled out the passenger side, clutching the gun in your hand. The ground hurt, and you definitely got some scrapes, but the adrenaline set in instantaneously. You got to your feet and ran into the brush, accidentally falling into a rain induced wetland. You lost the gun momentarily and retrieving it soaked the entirety of your sleeve in the process. 

Not far in the distance you heard him calling after you. Quick thinking had you praying that he left the truck running. You ran back to the road in hopes that he was too occupied with searching for you.

That’s how you ended up with Rafe now staring down the barrel of his own gun, at the hands of you. His girlfriend.

Tears trickle down your face.

“Did you kill her?” The words came out choked. Scared of what could be your reality.

“No! I didn’t kill her!” He exhales deeply, blue eyes frantically looking between yours. “C’mon this is ridiculous. Baby? Would you put the fucking gun down.”

“Why don’t I believe you.” You sniffled, voice uneven. “Make me believe you, Rafe.”

You love him, so why are you struggling so bad with the simple act of trusting his word. 

“These fucking pogues.” He mumbles under his breath, bringing his palms to his forehead as he begins pacing back and forth.

He turns his back to you with his hands on his head, and you continue to clutch the weapon. You guys stay still like this for a bit.

When he finally turns back around, you notice how his eyes are watery and he looks distraught. But worst of all he looks guilty.  

“No…”

"Listen you know that you mean everything to me, right? It- it was a mistake, it happened so fast.” Your stomach dropped beyond compare.

The click of the trigger was deafening, especially considering how no loud sound followed. 

Rafe’s eyes grew wide, then his brows immediately began to furrow. Anger washed over him as he practically lunged at you, trapping you between him and the hood of the vehicle.

He yanks the gun out of your hands, and immediately opens the mag releasing a heap of water and bullets onto the road.

His breaths were heavy but he managed to chuckle.

“If this didn’t happen to get wet, I would be laid out on the ground. You want to kill me y/n?” He was so serious now staring down at you as he caged you to the warm hood. “I tell you that you're everything to me, and you try to kill me.” He scoffs, "Didn't even give me a chance to explain, or-or fucking apologize?"

Your hand instantly connects with his face and you had no words aside from calling him a psychopath.

He touched you, held you, and took care of you as if he wasn’t responsible for your pain. 

“She was going to shoot my dad.” Your heart clenched at the full admission.

His hand gently grabs your face trying to get you to look at him, to force his perspective onto you. Your resistance is met with a much more harsh grip as he searches your eyes for god knows what. 

“I had to protect him” 

That broke you. Who’s he to say that protecting his father was worth taking your mothers life?

“Fuck you.” You choked out. You didn’t expect him to snake his arms around you in a hug, forcing you to sob into his chest.

You tried to push him off but too exhausted, and hurt and warn out you gave up. He held you for what felt like a painful eternity, then moved to cup your face. 

“I’m sorry. I am.”

“You disgust me. You...” You couldn't think of a word to describe how evil someone has to be to do this. It felt surreal.

“I love you” 

“You don’t love me.” You push at him feeling nauseous, but of course he doesn't move.

“I do. Come on y/n, you just attempted to kill me and here I am looking past it. Does that not show you anything?” 

“You killed my mom. Then played me for a fool. You lied to my face for months and pretended like everything was normal.” You couldn’t help the tears, and shakiness of your breath.

His lips brushed yours and you wanted to throw up. 

“I fucked up I know, but I’m gonna make-”

“You’re delusional and clinically fucking insane if you think that anything on earth could make this right. I want nothing to do with you.”

His jaw ticked at that, before nodding off to himself.

“That’s too fucking bad then.” He sighed before kissing your forehead and dragging you back to the passenger side. 

-

Five months later... 

“I’ve been patient haven't I?”

His ring clad hand encases your throat, while his other digs into the meat of your hip. He ruts into you like a man starved. “How much longer you gonna keep icing me out, hmm?” 

‘Icing out’ didn’t grasp the true gravity of your relationship, but of course he would describe it in such a way that reduces the gravity of everything that he'd done.  

You bat your eyes shut, at a particularly deep stroke, ignoring his dumb question.

Your monstrous hormones were to blame for the way you were dripping down onto the sheets. The bottom of your ass' damp with wetness as he pleases your walls. Even though you despise him, you can’t do anything about how well he knows your body. He cracked the code way before you knew he was a murderer.

He manages to bring you to an earth shattering release, for the second time tonight.

His hand moves from your hip to pin your hand near your head. His fingers intertwine with yours, but you don’t reciprocate the action. He buries his head between your neck kissing there, and sucking at the sensitive skin, likely leaving a mark as he slowly rocks into you.

“Why do you do that?” You groan, as he pulls away to look down at you.

“So everyone knows you’re mine” 

You roll your eyes at that and he brings his lips to your perked nipple, swirling his tongue against it.

You bite back a moan, “Everyone is well aware Rafe.”

He rubs the gold band that rests on your finger, before moving to spread his hand along your rounding belly. 

After that fated night, things changed within an instant. It was a blur honestly. Your hatred for Ward is level with the amount you hold for Rafe. Mainly, because he forced you to go to the courthouse with his son the day after the incident. Something about married couples not being able to testify against each other in court.

Rafe groaned at the feel of you sucking him in, “Can never be too sure”

The overstimulation was getting to you, like bad. His name slips from your mouth, a subtle plea for him to keep doing whatever the fuck he’s already doing down there.

“Can’t keep this shit up when the baby arrives.” His hand cradles your jaw, and his lips brush yours. 

“Good thing I have 5 more months.”

You whine out as his thumb connects with your bundle of nerves. His toying of your clit makes you become increasingly more vocal.

“Tell me you love me.” His lips ghost over yours and you tut out of annoyance, you hated when he did this.

You hadn't told him those three words since you found out what he did, and you had no plans on ever saying them again. You didn't even want to say it out of a lie, because that would be just enough for him, and he didn't deserve that kind of relief.

Often he would try to get you as vulnerable and fucked out as possible in some weird scheme to get you to say it. Like you'd slip up or something.

“Can you just fuck me, m’not in the mood for this Rafe.”

Your rejection only spurs him on, like usual, pace now calculatingly slow as he continues to stroke your bud with his thumb.

“That’s fine. You know why? Because somewhere in that cold heart of yours I know that you feel something for me.”

His hand caresses your stomach, and you’re all but seconds away from unraveling around him again.

“And if not, then at least you’re gonna love the little extension of me growing inside you.”

-

years later…

You can't lie, Rafe had changed a lot within these past two years. Bossed up and became a real man you could say. Would you give him that credit though? Absolutely not.

He made life as easy as it could be, given the circumstances. The only responsibility you have is being a mother. Which isn’t really a responsibility considering the fact that she’s everything to you. Your entire heart and soul. Sometimes you swore you could see hints of your mom in her.

You know that you’ll never forgive him, it was something you fully accepted and he still hadn’t. No matter how much things seemed perfect and domestic and ‘ok’, you still held her in your heart.

With that you wouldn’t classify him as a good man, but you can at least say that he is a good dad.

Sometimes things felt so normal that you momentarily forgot your situation. Other times he couldn’t help but remind you of his true nature, of being a persistent asshole. Like earlier this morning.

You’re sitting on the living room mat with your girl, watching her stack the colorful blocks. He comes into view, standing at the edge of the couch watching you two with the phone pressed to his ear.

Your toddler storms up and runs to cling to his leg, when she notices him.

“Daddy!”

“Figure it out, Its what I pay you for. If it's not handled by Monday I'm firing you. Got that?" He hangs up abrubdtly then picks her up in his arms, swaying her around. Before holding her against his chest.

He showers your daughter’s face with kisses, and the happy giggles coming from her bring a smile to your face.

“What were you and mommy doing angel?” he walks closer to you, as you knee up from the rug. Your hand naturally rests on your growing belly bump as you watch them.

“Building a castle!”

He looks down at it telling her that it was the best one he’s ever seen.

He rubs her cheek, “Are you excited to spend the weekend at granddad’s?”

She loudly expresses her sheer excitement following it up with, “Can you and mommy stay too!? It’s fun!”

You move closer to them, to fix one of her pigtails, “I wish baby”.

You really did mean that. You shot him a glare behind your daughter’s back. He sprung a trip on you this morning while you were brushing your teeth, saying that everything was already arranged.

“You see, mommy and I are celebrating this thing called an anniversary.”

“Ani-wha? what’s that?”

He chuckles brushing his hand over her hair “It reminds mommy and I how much we love each other. Isn’t that right?” he glances at you, and her head turns the same.

“Mhm, yeah.”

“Is it because daddy loves mommy more?”

You blink at that, shocked to hear that come from her, “Hey, where’d you get that idea missy?”

“Dunno” she stares back at you with a little pout.

Your rub her cheek, “There’s no need to think that baby”-and for the sake of your child, for the first time in forever did you say anything of the sort- “I love daddy. Don’t you worry princess.”

Her lips curl at that, and not wanting her to pick up on any hostility you give Rafe a soft kiss on the lips. Then a kiss to her cheek.

Immediately after you’ve dropped her off, you’re ripping him a new one.

“Did you put that in her head?”

“What? No.” He starts the truck.

You scoff, “I can’t believe you’d go that far to-“

“Hey! don’t accuse me for something I didn’t do. She’s two, she picks up on shit.”

“You’re saying this is my fault?”

“What I'm saying is that she’s got a brain of her own.”

You hum, at the realization that you were likely going to have to be more intentional, and play up your affections for her sake. She deserves a healthy environment. You huff out of irritation and his hand spreads over your belly.

"Relax, yeah? The stress isn't good for the baby. We’re gonna go on this trip, relax a little, and maybe you can get real familiar with the idea of loving me."

"Whatever"

"Hey, didn’t I tell you that you wouldn't be able to keep up with that shit forever.”

i'm so serious she will never love this man! she is stuck with him, that's it.

thanks for reading! I beg of you guys to leave some thoughts and feedback. they are highly appreciated and mean a lot + they encourage me to share more :(

the actual queen of angst this was an incredible read im floored like the impact dark rafe has over me should be studied

getaway

Warnings (18+): addiction, drinking, drug use, arguing, domestic violence, no smut but sexual language

Tags: dark!rafe cameron, angst, cursing, betrayal, praise kink, attempted break up?

Summary: while on vacation with the cameron’s, rafe decides to devote a day to spoiling you. Everything was going great up until rafe gets caught doing something that changes the trajectory of your relationship.

WC: 3.2k

Notes: AHH this is my first fic in yearss, a little stand alone fic to warm up. pls reblog or give me feedback. hope you guys enjoy and again please lmk your thoughts.

if u are an ageless blog or minor and u interact (that means even liking this post) u will get blocked! u have been warned

Your mind wandered as you gazed through your passenger window, taking in the glistening waves. Vacationing in the Bahamas wasn't what you anticipated for your summer, if anything you had been leaning towards doing an internship. However you were only able to entertain that idea for a small period of time, before Rafe roped you into his family's plans. 

“Any special plans for the summer, hun?” Ward’s gaze landed on you as he sat at the head of the dinner table. You swallowed swiftly. 

“I’m still figuring it out. I’m thinking about an internship program but haven't quite decided on it yet.” You smiled. 

“I still think you should come with us.” Rafe muttered as he gave your thigh a squeeze. You playfully rolled your eyes in response to that. A few weeks before this he had asked you along but you told him maybe and that it all depended on the internship.. 

“I agree with Rafe on this one hun. You’re a good girl, always working hard you deserve the getaway. Plus we always love having your company around, you’re family to us.” 

“besides It’ll be fun,” Rafe moved his hand from your thigh to caress the small of your back.

You remembered how your heart softened at Ward’s confession, how could you have said no after that? 

The feeling of Rafe’s hand moving up your inner thigh, pulled you out of your thoughts. 

“Where are we going?” you softly asked, hands gently stroking up and down his arm. “I can't handle this anticipation” You glanced at him in hopes of an answer, but the most he gave you was a smug grin as his eyes stayed focused on the road.

His eyes drifted from the road to take in your appearance. “You know you look so pretty right now.” The evasive complement made you squint, and he chuckled. 

 “Quit worrying, I’m gonna take care of you. Don't I always?”

“Yeah, But-”

“I’m not telling you. Alright?” he squeezed your thigh “I just want some alone time with my baby, is that so wrong?”

The secret destination ended up being a luxurious beachfront restaurant. Live music flowed through the space while you ate, and once you were both satisfied, he took you down to the beach. You sat there in his arms watching the sunset, talking and laughing about random stuff. 

You turned around and kissed his cheek. You were really appreciative of him, and proud of his growth throughout your relationship.

“One more place I wanna take you tonight” he kissed your lips before pulling you up and dusting the sand off of your ass. 

The drive wasn't long, and at some point you registered that you were somewhere in Rafe’s neighborhood. You briefly stared at the Cameron house as Rafe drove past it. He made a couple more turns before finally parking in an expansive driveway. When he got out of the car you noticed how many cars were parked there too. He opened your door and the faint sound of music filled your ears. You immediately realized it was a party, and you weren't quite sure how you felt about that fact. You figured he noticed your uneasiness too by the way his brow furrowed. 

“What's wrong beautiful?” his hand instantly caressed over your jaw, and his eyes softened into yours. Your eyes strayed from his to look at the house. 

You pondered for a second, not able to ignore your feelings. “Do you think this is a good idea? I don't know, I feel like it’s too soon”. His eyes flitted down to your lap.

“Mfine, ok.” he grumbled. 

“I know you are, it's just-” 

“Do you trust me?” his eyes peered into yours, hand settling on your knee. 

“You know I trust you”   

“So don't make this harder than it needs to be. When I heard about this, I couldn't help but remember how much you enjoyed these things. I miss seeing that side of you.” he rubbed at your thigh  “I’m better now, I promise.”

He made a point, you always had a good time at parties, they were a fun way for you to destress. But, the last one you guys attended had the opposite effect. He had gotten so high that night, resulting in nothing good. Top and Kelce tried to stop him from relentlessly laying into some pogue, as you stood in shock. You didn't even know why they got into it but you knew that he probably would have beaten the pogue to death if it weren't for the distant sirens. That night was your wake up call, and Rafe’s too when you told him that you couldn't be with him if he kept getting high and acting like that. That he needed help. He promised to you that night that he would get clean, and since he had been much better. 

“Mkay, but you have to make me that one drink” 

“That’s my girl, I’ll get you whatever you want.” he smirked before his lips attached to yours. Your lips moved against his desperately, whimpering when his tongue slowly swirled against your own. Before you could really process the absence from your lips, wet kisses were being placed along the column of your neck. When he pulled away you slightly shifted in your seat, becoming very aware of the warmth growing in you. “Cmon, I don't want you missing out on the party.”

The environment was practically identical to figure 8. Fancy house, endless amounts of alcohol, variations of kooks, and a lot of drugs. You decided to not worry over it though, trusting your boyfriend in his new found sobriety. While he was making your drink he told you about these parties being a big deal during the summer, and how glad he was to be at one with you.

It was later on, a few drinks into the night and you were having a really good time. The alcohol and music were compelling you to move with ease against Rafe, and his hands never left your body. You tilted your back into his torso, grinding your ass into his pelvis to the rhythm of the music. 

“Cameron?!” A voice called over the music, and  you tilted your head to find some guy approaching you both. He was holding an arm out to greet your boyfriend. Rafe hesitantly, let go of you to give the man a bro hug. 

“Shit, I was just thinking about you man. Long time no see.” Rafe spoke happily.. 

“Fuck dont I know man. You doin good? You need anything? You know I always got you.” the guy grinned, not really acknowledging your presence. 

“I’m doing good, I actually wanted to talk to you about something.” Rafe paused leaning into your body to whisper. “I’ll be right back, gonna catch up real quick.” You nodded and he planted a kiss on your forehead before following the chatty guy outside. You didn't reflect much on the haste interaction and went back to dancing when a favorite song of yours started playing.

No more than ten minutes passed before he had found his way back to you, oddly enough the other man was nowhere to be found. Rafe’s lips were on yours almost immediately with a needy kiss while he brought you into a tight embrace.

 “You’ve been driving me fucking crazy in this dress all day. You know that though, don't you?” His hands fell to your ass, grabbing at it. Your insides were immediately tingly at that. “I love showing everyone that you're mine” he confessed before sloppily kissing you.

You danced together for a bit more until you became aware of your bladder being full. “Rafe, I have to pee” you whined. Hand in hand he swiftly ushered you up some stairs, music fading as you made your way up them. 

“Rafey. Thank you for tonight and everything, you're so good to me, always taking care of me.” You drunkenly rambled. 

“M-glad you're having fun beautiful” He twisted at some door knobs cursing when discovering they were locked. 

When he found an unlocked room he quickly pulled you in with him. He swiftly locked the door before pressing you against it. His eyes roamed all over your face and lips before crashing his lips into yours. You loved the fact that he couldn't resist you, it was wrecking you. 

“Need you right now baby” He broke away, lips finding your neck, and teeth biting at your soft skin. Your brain was practically empty at this point, moans slipping out at his touch. His hands were finding their way up your dress, rubbing over your soaked panties when you remembered what you came up here for. You softly pressed your hands against his chest.

“Wait, wait.” You breathily pleaded, pushing him back “I’ll be just a second ok?”

After relieving yourself you checked your reflection. You fixed some stray pieces of hair and tugged your dress down. You hadn't realized it was this short when you tried it on a couple days ago. You hadn't remembered much about the dress though. You only remembered showing it to Rafe in the dressing room along with him shoving it up and taking you against the mirror. Needy for release and content with how you looked, you opened the bathroom door.

You immediately looked at the bed assuming he would be there waiting for you. When you didn't find him your eyes traveled to the other side of the room, where he stood with his back to you. You were about to say something when you recognized faint sniffles. Immediately a pit started growing in your stomach. He wouldn't. You didn't want to entertain your thoughts, but another sniffle traveled to your ears accompanied by the faint sound of a crumpling plastic bag. 

You were instantly sobered, rushed with too many feelings at once. Pain, betrayal, disappointment, anger. One of the many emotions finally pushed you to speak.

“How long?” your voice barely came out. His head quickly turned before the rest of his body quickly followed. His mouth was agape as he frantically wiped his nose. 

“Babe, listen” he strode towards you.

“Don't Rafe. Tell me how long.” You crossed your arms over your chest, anxiously clutching at your forearms.

“It's not what it looks like.” He reached out to you but you recoiled at the thought of his touch. His hands fell to his sides at your rejection.

“I’m not stupid Rafe. How. Long.” You glared at him. His eyes frantically wandered around the room before his glossy eyes connected with yours. You knew what that guilty look meant. You felt sick to your stomach.

“Oh my God.” you whispered to yourself,  maybe you were stupid. “Are you serious? Did you ever get clean?”

“Baby, I know I fucked up ok. I-I-” 

“This isnt just a fuck up Rafe. You have been lying to me for who knows how long about being sober. I trusted you.” A tear fell down your cheek, allowing many others to follow. “I’m going back to the house.” You began your exit.

“Babe. Babe.” He reached out to grab your wrists, anxiously rubbing them before you pulled back.

“Don't call me that. You promised me you would stop, I fucking told you how I felt about it. You knew how important this was to me, for us.” your voice broke while tears streamed down your face.

“I’m going to fix this ok.” his eyes were searching yours “ok?”

“I don't believe you!” you snapped. “Just earlier you convinced me to come in here by lying straight to my face. Do you know how fucked up that is?” you scoffed. “Especially because it was coming from a place of genuine concern. I don't know if I can even trust you anymore.” he stood there jaw twitching 

“You weren't supposed to know,” he mumbled.

“Fuck you.” You breathed out, as you left the room. 

You rushed down the stairs, needing to get outside. The fresh air helped you catch your breath and you quickly decided that you would walk back to the Cameron house. You hated involving other people in your mess but you had to call Sarah to unlock the door for you when you arrived. When she opened it her eyes traveled over your state and she simply brought you into a hug. 

When you got into the bedroom, you kicked your shoes off and slid against the side of the bed. It all hurt so much. His ability to hide something so big from you hurt the most. Maybe you didn't really know him. You sat there for a while raking through your memories trying to decipher if there were any signs you missed.

All of a sudden you heard the front door slam. Not long after you heard Ward’s raised voice. 

“Rafe?! Are you high right now?!” You got up and went into the bathroom not wanting to hear the rest of what was about to ensue. You locked the door behind you, and sat on the toilet cover. 

As you tried to gather your breaths you heard him enter the room. There was a brief moment of silence before the bathroom knob rattled. 

He spoke your name, “Open the door. Please.” You could hear it in his voice that he was a mess, desperation seeping through the door. 

You hesitantly got up and opened the door. 

“Look I know, I know what I did was wrong and I’m gonna make it right. You gotta listen to me though, I’m in control babe. I can quit whenever I want.” you sighed. “You can't deny that I changed, I still got better for you baby, I stopped fighting.” He stood in the door frame, towering over you.

You looked up into his eyes and his pupils were blown. It was so hard being around him when he was like this, you couldn't handle it everything was becoming overwhelming. You attempted to sidle past him but he blocked your path.

“Don't do that.” His eyes went dark. “Don't walk away from me, ok? You can't keep ignoring me” he scowled.

“I’m not ignoring you, I just don't want to do this with you right now. Please move so I can change?.” His eyes roamed over your figure, then his tongue swiped over his lip as he nodded.

“Can't believe you walked home dressed like this” he reached up playing with your dress strap. “Could've gotten kidnapped or hurt, but maybe you wanted that kind of attention.” You shoved him out of your way, neglecting his calls of your name as you began sifting through your clothes.

“You give me no fucking credit huh? I told you I haven't gotten into any fights since that night, that shows something doesn't it?” he slurred.

“Yeah fine. whatever you say Rafe” you muttered, bending to slip on a pair of sweats. Suddenly you felt a tight searing pain on your arm, spinning you around.

“Ow! What the hell Rafe?!! That hurts!” His hold didn’t relent as he got in your face.

“You think you're a saint or something? Think you're so perfect?” His other hand came up grasping your jaw, forcing your eye contact. “Are you aware of  how fucking suffocating you can be? Making excuses for us to not go out, like you dont fucking love it. Want to know how I know baby?” He smugly laughed and you whimpered  in silence, biting your tongue. “Because every one of those nights ended with your wet cunt squeezing my cock, moaning for me like a little slut.” He finally released you.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You spat at him, while gently rubbing your arm. “See this is why I can't do this.” Your vision blurred from your tears, as he paced mumbling incoherently. You quickly put a hoodie and some slippers on, needing to get away from this version of Rafe. 

You left the room and walked towards the patio door, sliding through to go sit on the private beach. You were in genuine shock. He had never touched you like that before. Never spoke to you like that either. Yeah you had seen him get like this towards others but he had never aimed it at you. Your brain had wondered for a while about your relationship. Your worries slowed eventually, just enough to let sleep sweep in.

You slowly woke up. 

You were confused as to why you were  laying under bed covers, you remembered falling asleep on the beach. You observed your surroundings a little more, and came to the conclusion that you were in your shared room. The person you shared it with however was nowhere to be found. You could only assume he took you from the beach last night. 

You sighed and  got up to go to the bathroom. You blankly stared at yourself in the mirror. You weren't recognizable to yourself. Your eyes were extremely puffed, your arm an ugly shade of purple, and a numb expression masked your face. You made your way out of the bathroom to grab some clothes for a shower, you felt gross.

You stopped in your tracks when you saw his figure sitting on the bed. You must have missed hearing him come back in. 

He was looking up at you with those familiar soft blue eyes, the ones that you had loved. You could tell he’d been crying too. You took a seat near him, feeling somewhat comfortable. Maybe because it felt like you knew this version of him. 

“M-sorry baby. I’m so sorry. You know I didn't mean any of that” His hand found your cheek, you were so confused by him now. 

His hand slid to your jaw, tilting your head up needing you to look at him. His eyes searched yours for forgiveness.“I’m gonna get my shit together. I will. I’m gonna get help. But you can't- please don't leave. I need you.”

“You hurt me, really bad. I told you I can't be with you like this. I need time.” you whispered.

“No no no. Don't do this. Please beautiful.” He shook his head. “I can't do this without you. I love you. M- sorry that I hurt you.”

“I don't know, maybe we can figure it out,” he let out a breath of relief as his eyes glossed over. “but, I still need space and time, it's going to take a lot for me to be able to trust you again”

“I'm going to get it together this time, I’ll show you. I promise”

He pulled you into a tight hug like he wasn't ever going to let you go. You wished you could believe in his promise but it was too late. In some weird fucked up way you felt bad for lying to him right then about figuring things out, but you had to. You literally had nowhere else to go right now. 

His lips connected with yours, and you briefly kissed him back before pulling away. You cared about him, but you had already decided on what you were going to do once you got back to Kildare.

thanks for reading! reblogs + asks are always welcome ♥️

mdni banner creds! divider credit!

stepbro rafe hcs!

Warnings: stepcest, dub-con, reader’s lowkey a bimbo, light smut, pervy behavior, DARK CONTENT, jealousy.

a/n: this is my first post so please be nice and as always mdni!

stepbrother! rafe who was always a little too touchy with you, holding your hips to move you out of his way, caressing your head when you did something right, placing his hand on your thigh as you sat next to him at family dinner, making you his personal eye candy at parties, making his friends envious, and making their shorts tighten at your cleavage as they watched you lean down and pick something up for Rafe.

You dismissed it as casual affection because you were just relieved that your intimidating big evil stepbrother liked you.

;;

A shiver ran through you as you felt Rafe’s fingers graze your spine as he pulls down the zipper, and you see him lick his lips at the sight of your boobs spilling out of your push-up bra.

You gasp when he unhooks it in one swift motion making it pool at your feet, and you bite your lip as his finger reaches out to brush over your hardened nipple.

stepbro! Rafe always carries drags you back to his room when you've had a little too much to drink, stripping you and changing your clothes so you can wear his, so you know better than to protest as his gaze hungrily travels down your half-naked body, swallowing roughly when your palms reach up to squeeze your boobs as a protection against the cold air and cock twitching when you look up at him through your lashes and whine for him to give you his shirt already.

;;

stepbro! rafe wrapped your lace panties around his hardening cock, getting off to your pictures, in his defense, you did ask him to take a good picture of you and perhaps he took a few extra for himself. You didn't mind because you were wearing the miniskirt he bought you as an act of reconciliation after he beat up that touron for talking to you, so it's not entirely his fault that he took a few in different angles. That's what a nice stepbrother does, right?

;;

stepbro! rafe who takes you shopping on the mainland where he buys you the skimpiest little skirts he can think of, skirts that he knows will undoubtedly hike up when you bend over, as well as some lace lingerie sets that would flash through your see-through shirts.

He usually follows you into the dressing room as you change, observing you with a hungry glare. He means well, of course; after all, who else is going to assist you in undressing?

;;

drunk or coked out stepbro! Rafe who slips into your room at night under the guise of just checking in on his stepsister, and before you know it he’s grinding against you,and being the good and obedient, step sister that you are, you grind back into him knowing that he just needs to relieve some tension. However, you squeeze your thighs together in an effort to stop him when he inserts his hand between them,

“Rafe …. but mom and dad?”

Sighing, he moves in closer and says, "Look, I just need you right now, okay?" and with that, he grabs your hand and presses it against his bulge. “This is what you do to me” he groans. You relent some not wanting to upset him he’s your favorite person after all and you just want to help him, it's what good stepsisters do right? And you let his hand make its way into your shorts, calloused fingers teasing your clit, “fuck so wet for me angel” he mumbles kissing you on the sweet spot right under your ear, and when you hear his belt unbuckle and hand snake his way around your throat you know you're in for a long night.

no cause she's just like me for real i would always give rafe cameron 3637288 chances🤭

getaway II

Warnings (18+): stalking, manipulation, arguing, no smut but still 18+

Tags: dark!rafe cameron (he’s quite desperate), HEAVY ASS angst, cursing, jealousy, obsession, probably missing something so lmk

Summary: rafe wants to talk to you, even though you have made it clear what you want

WC: 2.1k l part one

Notes: this was a request! but I def got a little carried away. rafe sucks so much here. hope you guys enjoy and please lmk your thoughts!

AGELESS BLOG’s & MINOR’s who interact (that means even liking/reblogging this post) WILL get BLOCKED! u have been warned

A familiar chime abruptly wakes you from your sleep. The ringing is accompanied by the hard patter of rain against the window. You reach out to the nightstand, grabbing your phone and squinting at the bright screen.

It's... Sarah?

Confusion strikes your drowsy head as your thumb hovers over the answer button. What would she be calling you this late for?

Before you get the chance to answer the screen shifts from her contact photo to your home screen, and to your surprise it's filled with multiple call notifications from her.

Your body becomes stiff. The amount of missed calls were concerning and had you unsettled with the presumption that something was wrong. She wouldn't just call you like this if it wasn't serious, especially considering the fact that she knew you and Rafe weren't together anymore.

You sit upright and tap the screen to call her back, the phone rings once then immediately goes to voicemail. 

Panic creeps through your veins, as you swipe to call her again, but before you could click the tiny button, a message notification appears at the top of your screen. It was from her.

Please. I need your help, idk what to do. 

You click it and another comes in quickly.

I'm outside your place, my phones gonna die soon, and I have nobody else. Please.

Those messages were more than concerning, and now you were worried. You scramble out of bed and shuffle blindly through your room, which leads you into the hall. Your visions a blur as you push yourself through the small apartment home and towards the door.

No matter how much you disliked Rafe, you weren't going to let it get in the way of helping Sarah, when she needed you. She's practically family to you, a baby sister in a way.

When you reach the front door your fingers clings to the handle, as you swiftly twist then pull it open. The loud pour of rain and cold wind makes you wince and furthers your state of disorientation as you look out the doorway. 

You expected her to be on your porch, just outside like she said, but she wasn't. It was dark and all you could see was the sway of tree branches and large reflective puddles of water.

Your brows furrow. She said she was here, did she go somewhere else? if so it’s not like she could have gotten that far, she just texted you.

To get a better look around you move forward, taking a step out onto the poorly lit small porch. That’s when in your peripheral you see movement. Oh thank God, she is here.

“Sarah are you alr-” 

The words die in your mouth as you turn your head. There was a tall figure, nowhere near the size of her, and it was hurling towards you.

You're paralyzed with fear, closing your eyes and bracing for impact. The feeling of hands pushing you back elicits a shriek from you, and your phone slips from your hand as you stumble backwards through the doorway. 

The intruder's grip on your forearm has you trembling, and a feeling of impending doom surges your body at the sound of the door slamming shut.

Your eyes open wide in a panic and your vision shoots upwards. The familiar face riddled by moonlight brings nausea to your stomach and your head slowly shakes as you look up at him.

He whispers in a rush.

"Hey. Hey. Hey, it's me"

Was that supposed to make you feel better?

His hold loosens on your arm and you take the opportunity to move away, stepping back a few times into the living room.

"Wha- what have you done?" You speak astounded "I swear to God if you hurt Sarah"

“I didn't hurt her" He clearly enunciates, irritated that you would accuse him of that. He steps closer and you mirror him by taking another step back. 

He stares at you, as you intensely watch him for any sudden movement. He lifts his chin and scoffs at your blatant distrust for him before his hand reaches into his pocket. The movement has you fearing for the worst.

He pulls out a phone in a flower ridden case, and tosses it on the coffee table. You let out a breath, relieved that it wasn't a weapon. The movement makes the phone gleam, which breaks your attention from him as you become aware that it's the only source of light in the small living room. The subtle rays of moonlight peaking through the sheer curtains, were the exception.

"She's sleep, at home. I needed to borrow it, ok?" 

His voice has you snapping your head back in his direction, and you notice how he's grown closer by just a couple steps. The newfound proximity has your heart racing.

It had been about three weeks since you got back from the Bahamas. The first week back home was spent distancing yourself, and giving Rafe practically any excuse you could think of to not see him. However, when he got tired of your excuses he showed up to your doorstep with flowers like everything was fine, even though he knew it wasn't. You were quiet for the most part, and pushed him away telling him you were tired. After he left that day you couldn't take it anymore, his mere presence made you feel overwhelmed, so you texted him that you seriously needed some space. You hoped that he would listen and that it was the last time you would have to talk to him, so you blocked him. And for two weeks you heard nothing from him, you thought everything was well... getting better. But now you were here staring at him, as he intrudes upon your apartment.

"What the fuck are you doing here? What is your problem?" 

"You. You’re, you're ignoring me.” His breath wavers as he reaches out flipping on the light switch like it was his house. 

The yellow ting of light brightens the room, and you see him much clearer. There was no sanity in his expression. He was angry and kind of... empty. In your heart you feel bad seeing him struggle like this, you even feel guilty, even though you know you didn't do anything wrong. You shouldn't feel like this and you hate that you do, but it's not like you could just stop caring about the person you love loved overnight. It's exactly why you needed your space. 

"Rafe..." it comes out as a gentle whisper.

"I miss you" 

"Rafe, this isn't fair. You can't-"

“Listen." he cuts you off, voice scarily calm. "Listen to me"

You sigh and he continues.

"Two weeks. We haven't spoken in two weeks" his eyes stare blankly in your general direction "I thought maybe, you know that if I give you the space and time that you want. That, that's what it would take for us to move on, for you to forgive me."

"It's not that simple." You interject, now frustrated.

His jaw clenches and nose flares at your words. His eyes are then quickly darting and peering back into yours.

"You sure about that?" he rolls his tongue over his lip. “Because it seems simple to me, with the way it's so easy for you to block me.”

"You don't listen to me. None of this is fair." You whisper, tiredly glancing at the floor.

He shakes his head, lulling it back as he rolls his eyes.

"Do you think I'm this horrible person or something?” He spreads his arms in front of him “That I'm not trying? that it? Is that reason why you're giving up so easily on us?"

What? no. That's not what you meant.

He was getting in your head, and you were finding it more and more difficult to think. Too much was happening for you to be able to compile all your feelings let alone the reasons behind them. You just fucking woke up, and somehow he managed to already make your heart ache.

"I-" You stutter, and he cuts you off. It's not like you knew what you were going to say anyways.

"You wanna know something?” he lets out a deep breath, before continuing “You wanna know how pissed off I was when I found out that you're going around this island telling people that we're not together anymore" He takes one step closer aiming his finger at you, before putting his hands back on his chest. "While I'm trying to get my shit together so that I don't fucking lose you"

The overwhelmingness of his questions, accusations, and blame finally push you to your edge. Adrenaline pumps through your system.

"You're delusional, if you still think we're getting back together." 

You watch as he quickly looks off to the side, inhaling deeply.

"Nah" he shakes his head sucking in his lip, "No, you said we could figure this out, so we're figuring this shit out"

"I still don't trust you!” Your hands creep up your arms, rubbing at the cold skin “Relationships don't work without it and you don't even recognize how doing shit like this hinders any trust from happening." 

He clicks his tongue against his cheek letting out a hmph "Funny how you want to bring up trust"

You drop your hands frustrated and confused. "Rafe, I don't know what you're talking about but you need to leave." you gesture at the door.

"I saw you bring some surf rat in here the other day”

He’s been watching you?

“And if you think I’m just gonna sit around and let that shit…"  his voice fades as you start to tune him out to think about Aaron, your childhood friend who was visiting town, that's who he was talking about.

"Oh my god" you whisper to yourself, hopefully he hasn't harassed him or hurt him

"…I'm a proactive type of person."

"He likes boys you psycho! I can't believe you!"

"Don't!" he takes a deep breath returning to a calm voice "I would've known that, if you'd just talk to me"

"Alright I'm not doing this with you anymore, I cant. You need to leave."

He doesn't move, just stands there nodding his head and rubbing at his eyelids.

"And if I don't?" 

You didn't really think of that. 

You then realize you have no options, you couldn't call the cops because you dropped your phone outside. And even if you could call them they would likely believe Rafe's word over yours.

"Baby… Baby" His coo’s pull you from your head, and back to reality. 

He’s finally breached your space, and his familiar scent wafts in the surrounding air. The aroma was your comfort for so long, soothing you countless times throughout your relationship. Oddly enough, even in this moment you still feel the flurrying effects of his presence.

How on earth could you still find him soothing ? After all the things he's done?

It honestly felt like time had slowed. You look forward and your eyes land on his chest, really taking in his appearance for the first time in the night. He was wearing the gray jacket you bought him, for your most recent anniversary.

Your thoughts become irrelevant at the feeling of his hands resting on your waist. Your vision draws upward as your hands come up to his chest, hesitantly trying to push away. Your resistance only compels him more, because he pulls you in closer.

He was yearning for connection, you knew it by the way his hands held you, that he wasn't going to let you go. His glossed over expression only confirmed your thoughts.

"How many times do I have to say I'm sorry.” He gazes down at you. “I fucking love you, ok? I love you so much it fucking hurts being without you"

Your eyes flit away, “Love isn't… you can't use that as an excuse Rafe. Please understand that. I'm begging you." The stinging feeling of your eyes beginning to water has your hand flying up to shield yourself.

His hand gently curls around your wrist pulling it away. You were weak and had no more fight in you to resist anymore. His hand comes up and cups your face softly. The contact makes you shudder and the tears finally break free. 

You whimper before whispering. "You hurt me"

"I won't do it again. I promise. I'll never hurt you again. I'm sorry baby."

You look up into his desperate eyes and can't help but hopelessly settle your forehead against his chest. You were tired, and exhausted. He presses a kiss onto your head and pulls you into a deep hug, caressing at your back as you sniffle into his chest. 

If you learned anything from tonight it was that he wasn't just going to give up on your relationship, at least for any time soon. So maybe, it was best to just sit in this moment of peace, rather than continue on this fight. 

thanks for reading! reblogs, replies, and asks are highly encouraged & appreciated ♡

gif creds

THIS IS SO SO GOOD OMG!??? HAD ME CLUTCHING MY PEARLS THE ENTIRE TIME LIKE I NEED MY GOODSIS TO STAND UP BUT ALSO LIKE I FULLY GET HER

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WARNINGS: dark!rafe cameron, DUB-CON SMUT, HEAVY manipulation and gaslighting, cheating, abusive relationship, violence, brief mentions of virginity loss

Tags: naive/innocent! reader, sarah is readers best friend, secret relationship/situationship, pet name’s (baby & bunny)

Summary: You thought being in a secret relationship with your best friends brother was hard enough. Then things get much worse when you find out that he has a girlfriend l wc: 5.4k

Notes: Rafe has broken her down to the point where she's very desperate, he's gross and takes advantage of her. I would say I'm sorry but I am not lol. if there's mistakes pls ignore them ♡

!!! 18+ ONLY !!! AGELESS BLOG’s & MINOR’s who interact (that means even liking/reblogging this post) WILL get BLOCKED

You press your weight into your toes, in an attempt to find balance. The smooth edge of concrete at your soles indicates your options are limited. One more step back and you would be drenched, similar to the blonde standing before you. 

Your arms are out ahead of you attempting to warn him away. “JJ, don’t you dare!”

Even though you were serious, there was a smile smeared on your face. 

He inches towards you, “What? you can’t hang?” 

“I can!” You couldn't help but laugh as the words came out.

“Oh yeah?” He challenges as he closes in on you.

Water drips from his shaggy strands, down onto his bare chest. He practically glistens from the mixture of sun and water. 

Your eyes trail back up to his face and you can't help but realize that he was kind of cute?

You had met him only an hour ago, along with the rest of Sarah’s newfound friends. Your first impression of him was that he seemed like fun. Like the kind of guy that wants everyone to have a good time. The way he’s cornered you to the edge only confirms that. 

It didn't bother you though. You were having more fun now than in the past few weeks combined. 

You were really glad that you came. Albeit you were reluctant at first but for good reasons. You were nervous to meet “the pogues”, but more importantly you didn't want to have a run in with Rafe. You had been avoiding Tannyhill for weeks because of him. 

Which honestly sucked. You loved coming over here, it was like a second home to you. But not anymore.

You never thought that you would be avoiding him. For months he was everything to you. He made you feel worthy and perfect. Like the most important girl in his world. He was also the first and only person to touch you so intimately. He taught you things you didn't even think you could do. And dare you say it, you kinda loved him. Even if you guys weren’t official and even if it was all secret. 

When you used to think of him you felt like the happiest girl in the world. Now when you think of him and all the things you guys did together, nausea bubbles in your gut. 

You didn't know what you were thinking at the time. Going behind Sarah's back and getting involved with him was not your intention, but he was so alluring. So comforting in his assurance that you guys weren't doing anything wrong. That it was only a secret because he cared about you, and knew how terribly Sarah would react to it all. Saying that she'd make a whole drama out of it.

What you didn't know then was that he was in a relationship and that you were apparently some side thing. If you had known that information you wouldn’t have done anything with him. But how could you have known when there were no signs of her existence. You were lucky enough to find out by mere chance. If you didn’t, who knows how long things would have persisted for.

That day, you so happened to be sitting in Sarah’s windowsill. It showcased a perfect view of the backyard, the water, and the dock. Your heart sank when you saw them kissing there. Her arms slung around his neck, his hand placed at her hip. You were dumbfounded at the sight. So much that it caught Sarah’s attention. She matched your gaze and gagged. Even voiced her disgust about it, wondering how someone could even be in a relationship with her brother. Let alone for the length they were, which was half a year. It made you sick. You don't even know how you managed to not spew your guts in the moment.

Half a year was around the time you and him had sex for the first time. The first time you had sex at all at that. The realization that he was using you the whole time made you more than unsettled. Made you feel dumb and gross.

You were his dirty little secret.

You should've known, but again he was so damn charming. With his affirmations and promises that likely meant nothing. Promises that he would eventually make you his. That he wanted to be with you. And probably the biggest lie of them all was, that he… liked you. 

And you believed him. You fell for him like an idiot. When all he did was take advantage of you. It was humiliating, and the reason why you chose avoidance instead of confrontation.

Even though you had been following through with it, it was still hard. For some reason you couldn’t fully hate him. Your feelings and the memories you shared wouldn't just go away overnight. Some of them you couldn't even forget if you tried.

With all of it though, you were managing. You had to. Appearing happy as ever around others, to not let them get a glimpse of your shame. 

You were good at pretending, for the most part. It was easy to make up fake excuses every time Sarah invited you over. But this most recent time when she casually mentioned that the house was all hers, you couldn't find a reason to say no. Because he wasn't going to be there.

You snap back to reality, when cold hands connect with your waist. The contrast in temperature startles you.

You almost lose your balance, but the blond is quick to pull you into his body. Chest to chest. You cling to him out of instinct. 

“You’re ok I got you.” You exhale in relief, then he continues “Unless… I were to I don’t know… let go.”

You peer up at him, which only amuses him. “Please. Don’t.”

“you’re telling me that while everyone else is in the water. You’re just gonna sit on the sidelines?”

“Maybe. I don't know, I haven't decided yet.” 

“Oh, no we can’t have that. Definitely not.” He counters.

“And why is that?” You preen.

He breaks eye contact to look behind you for a split second. He then adjusts his head so that his lips are level with your ear.

“Would it be selfish to say that It's because I really want to get to know more about you.” 

His outwardness makes your mouth slightly part. When he looks at you again his eyes smoothly take in your expression. Then he continues.

“That and you look undeniably pretty in this two piece”

The compliment almost makes you melt within his now warm arms. His eyes smoothly trail over you. Heat flushes along your skin, and you can't help but look at his lips. They looked so inviting.

As you so shamelessly stare he takes a step forward, and you subsequently take one back forgetting that there was nowhere to plant it. 

You squeal, and tighten your grip fully anticipating the plunge. To your surprise he takes a couple steps back. Easing you both back away from the pool.

His hands fall from your body, and your knees almost go weak from the absence. 

“I’m just messing with you, beautiful. I wouldn't actually do that” he chuckles, and you find yourself gravitating back to him. “But I did mean what I said.”

You hum, not sure what to say to that.  

“No pressure though. Only if you want to” he continues, extending his hand out between you. The unspoken gesture makes you raise your brow. No you didn't want to swim quite yet but he was being sweet. Also you kind of liked that he wasn’t forcing you to do anything.

With that you make your decision and meet his hand with yours, interlocking your fingers together. 

“Atta girl” He smiles whilst giving your hand a light squeeze. 

There was one last shared look between you two, before you both took the leap. Hand in hand. 

You didn't expect to stay in as long as you did. But the pool games made time fly by. Specifically the chicken game. You liked that one, because JJ was your partner. You sat on his shoulders for multiple matches and each time he made it a point to cheer you on. 

The encouragement was making you extremely flustered, so much so that it was becoming impossible to conceal it. You felt oddly safe with him. He would strum your thigh often to make sure you were ok. Or he’d give it a light squeeze whenever you won a match. The lingering touches were making you feel warm, and tingly. Similar to how you felt with Rafe.

It was overwhelming and confusing, which was why you had to dismiss yourself.

You lie on a nearby lawnchair, as the others continue their roughhousing. The warm sun feels like a blanket against your chest. The tingle along your skin prompts you to check your swimsuit. You rub your fingers along the fabric and find that it's dry. You turn over to give your back an equal opportunity.

You get comfy and rest your head in the crook of your elbow. In the distance you hear JJ shout at Pope to grab him a beer, and your lips inadvertently curve up. You were so glad you came, the pogues were really nice, especially JJ. 

Being around them made you forget about all the bull you’ve been put through.

A yawn falls from your lips, likely a result of the rambunctious activities. You suppose a quick nap wouldn’t do much harm. The rowdy screams and shouts drown out as you rest your eyes. 

—

An unpleasant, cold feeling at your lower back rouses you awake.

It felt as if someone spilled something on you. 

You lift your head out of your arms and the brightness makes you squint. You squirm in the chair, as the sensation reappears but only this time along your… butt? Huh? Maybe it was JJ messing with you again?

You whine, as you tilt your head up. The sensation finally stops, as you look up at the culprit. What the hell? No- You were not expecting it to be him. He wasn't supposed to be here.

You notice that he holds a red solo cup over your body. Did he-?

Your hand brushes your very wet rear and you gasp. Yes, he did.

“Hey sleepy bunny” He taunts, as you sit up. There’s a shit eating grin on his face that makes you frown. “Looks like your friends left you out here, all alone”

You look around, noticing that they were indeed gone. Your heart begins to race. Why would they leave you like this? Why didn't they wake you?

“That’s better for us though isn't it?” he continues.

You scowl, and quickly get up. You both stand on opposing sides of the chair. 

You ignore him as you assess your skin, feeling all over. You suck in a breath at the now sticky residue coating your rear. Gross.

“Why would you pour beer on me?”

You watch as he brings the cup to his nose, then sucks his teeth. “Shit… I thought it was water. I’m sorry baby.” 

You squint at him. He has no right to call you that. 

“How about we go inside and I’ll clean you up nice and good. Hmm?” 

Seeing him after this long, makes you almost short circuit. You almost swoon at how he wants to take care of you, but then you remember. Your mind replays the visual of them kissing on that damn dock.

“Where’d my friends go?” You snip and his brows furrow slightly.

“What? Are you not happy to see me?” He chuckles.

“No, Not really” 

He tuts at your response, and you instantly wish you could flee. His presence was making you uneasy and unsure of yourself.

“They said something about getting booze, alright?” You frown at that, wishing they would have just woken you up. “You wanna tell me why you’re treating me like this?”

You shake your head, not wanting to bother. You just wanted to be away from him. The way he was looking at you, trailing over your body made you feel nasty, exposed, and objectified.

“Come on? Seriously baby?”

His eyes land on your chest and it makes you shiver. Your arms cross over the bikini top, to hide yourself from him. 

He notices the movement and sneers lowly, “Like I haven't seen it all before.”

“Leave me alone” you mumble, heart pounding in your chest. 

He steps around the chair, closer to you. His tongue rolls over his lips with a scoff, “What, don't tell me you’re being shy now?”

His pretty blue eyes bore into yours, and you force yourself to look away from him. It’s like the closer he gets to you the more you want to give into him. You hated that he still had this much power over you. That you still manage to find him handsome, even after what he did to you. 

“Cause it sure didn't seem like it when you were getting comfy with that pogue piece of shit earlier. Couldn’t fucking let him out your sight huh?”

Your eyes round at his accusation. You were speechless. How did he even know?

Your defense comes out quick, “Why does it matter?”

His face scrunches at that, “The hells gotten into you? What, did the chlorine seep into your brain?” His head tilts.

His insults shift your feelings. Your anger turns into sorrow, as you hug yourself tighter. “You're being mean, Rafe.”

Within an instant he intrudes on the space you created. 

“Well you make it hard to be nice when you’re acting like a slut.” His finger hooks at the strap on your hips. When he lets it go, the harsh snap against your skin makes you wince. 

“I-I’m not.” You look up at him, his ocean eyes connect with yours before he focuses on your lips.

“Look at yourself, bunny. You're the one parading around in this poor excuse of a swimsuit.” 

Your ears can't help but relish on the pet name that fell from his mouth. God, you loved when he said it. You hardly recognize that his hand is on you. Kneading a palmful of your ass. The feel sends you back to the nights you would sneak into his room and- no. No.

“No.'' You shake your head and push his chest. You peel his hand from your skin and back away. You put your hand out, and point an accusatory finger at him. “No more of that. I know you have a girlfriend.”

“The hell are you talking about??” He squints. 

His innocent facade pushes you over your edge.

“Don't try to make me feel dumb, I saw you two on the dock. A-and apparently you guys have been together for months!” You slide your hands down your face. The frustration causes a prickly feeling in your eyes. 

His scoff causes you to drop your hands. 

“She’s not my girlfriend? She’s just some girl my dad arranged me with. I don’t give a fuck about her.”

“I don't believe you at all. You looked really happy to me when she was practically all over you.”

“Do you hear yourself? Use your brain and think about what you just said. She was all over me. Not the other way around.” 

You momentarily think about it, trying to make sense of it. But still that explanation wasn't enough, he could have told you if that were the case, you would have understood. 

He takes a deep sigh, as he moves close to you again. He presses his chest to yours and brings his hand to your nape. At the same time, he nudges his forehead to yours and caresses his fingers against where your hair blends with your skin.

You sigh into his touch. You can't help it, it was comforting and familiar. You hate to admit it but you missed him. You knew you deserved better though. You deserve someone like JJ. Someone who made you bubble with laughter. Not cry yourself to sleep.

You bring your hand up and wrap your fingers around his forearm, a gentle attempt at getting him away. 

“Whatever it is Rafe, I don't care anymore. I know the truth, and it’s that you used me.” you suck in a breath “You don't care about me. You’re a liar, and I-I won't be your secret anymore. I won't be some piece of meat to you either. I think I deserve better. No, I know I deserve better.” 

When you finally look up at him you're surprised to find that he's calm? His fingers had stopped rubbing your skin, and you think he’s accepted your words. It made sense for him to give up on you so easily. Proves that you were just an object to him.

His jaw twitches as he looks over your weary expression.

“Let me guess you think JJ is better?” He snarls.

“For starters I think he at least likes me, and… I think I feel the same.” 

Almost immediately after the words leave your mouth, you feel his fingers press into the sides of your neck.

“Don't be stupid.” he sneers. you squirm in his hold, as he inches closer to your face. 

“He doesn't like you, he wants to fuck you. I mean really think about it baby, what have you given him to like besides your ass and tits? Maybe this pretty face huh?”

The mean words go to your head immediately. Maybe he was right? It’s not like you and JJ had sat down and had a real conversation. 

His fingers press harder and you squeeze at his forearm to get him to stop. The effort was useless, you knew he was too strong but you were desperate to stop the pain. 

“Please… stop. Please.” you squeak, whilst pleading with your eyes.

Only then does he let go. You gasp at the momentary relief, but it doesn't last for long. His hand travels up to the back of your head grabbing a fistful of hair before yanking your head back.

He hovers over you, intently focused on your torment. He looked like a madman, eyes gone black and unrecognizable. He was being so mean and it was breaking you. Tears brink your waterline, as you continue to plead.

“Please- Youre hurting me Rafe.” You grit out.

“I’m hurting you?” he snarls, “You know I really don’t think that’s the truth. I’m pretty fucking sure you’re the one hurting me.”

You weren't understanding. He was confusing you and the pain was becoming unbearable. The tears break free, at a particularly rough tug.

“I've told you so many times that I like you. That I want to be with you. I meant it then and I still mean it now. What more do I need to do to prove it to you, hmm?” 

Your scalp stings and the tears flow uncontrollably. Incoherent pleas fall from your mouth, as you dig your nails into his arm.

“You avoided me for weeks. That hurt. Then- then I find you throwing yourself at some random guy you don't even know. Like I wouldn't see? Like I dont fucking live here. But maybe you like hurting me? Is that it?”

“No- no. I don’t. I promise.”

The pressure was getting to you along with his confession. You were feeling guilty. You didn't mean to make him feel bad. You didn't mean to hurt him.

“Rafe. M’sorry.” He’s a blur as you look up at him, “I’m sorry ok? I shouldn't h-have assumed. I believe you-you.” Your voice was full of sorrow. 

He looks at you, like really looks at you. Then let's go. 

His eyes then looked in every direction except yours. He looked more than mad. He was livid, and It was all your fault. You felt so fucking bad, you wanted to fix it. Out of instinct you move to embrace him, shoving your head into his chest.

“I’m sorry” you whisper into his shirt. You feel him hesitate, before he brings his hand to encase your now tender head. You could feel the oncoming headache, but you didn't care. You needed to fix this. You bring your head away from his chest, and pout at his now tear stained fabric. 

All you wanted to hear was for him to say that it was ok. That he forgave you. 

Instead he doesn't say anything. Just swipes his thumb over your wet cheeks. 

“How about we go get you cleaned up hmm? Take care of these tears and wipe away the sticky booze from your skin.”

You nod and take the hand that he offers you. You misread everything so stupidly and look what it caused. 

-

The first thing Rafe did when you both entered his room was grab a wet towel. 

You stood between his legs as he wiped the alcohol residue from your skin. He still hadn’t said much, which made you wonder what was going through his mind. What was he thinking?

You turn when he prompts you to. You look down at him and he is entirely focused on getting you clean. He was being so sweet, which made you feel even worse. 

“Are you mad at me?” your voice is smaller than a whisper.

He looks up at you, and sets the towel aside. He doesn't take his eyes off you as he pulls you to sit down on his thigh. You watch him intently, awaiting a response. 

Instead he brings his palm to your face and pulls you into a kiss. Your lips meet and the fact that he still wants to kiss you makes you happy. You even get a little carried away. 

His lips were soft on yours and he met every single one of your movements. Your hand slides from his neck, feelings along his head of hair. You didn't want it to end, you desperately missed this. He pulls away and you look at him worried. Panicked. 

His forehead presses to yours.

“Fuckin missed you” His breath fans over your lips and you needily bridge the gap. You just want to make it right. He pulls away again and you pout. He said he missed you- so why did he not want to kiss you anymore? Was he repulsed by your behavior? 

You notice how his hand travels from your waist to his crotch, adjusting the tent in his pants

Oh he wasn't repulsed by you at all. The evidence of his arousal sparks an idea in your head. 

You ease off his thigh and he watches adoringly as you lower to your knees. It was the least you could do and it would make him feel better. This always made him feel better.

The wood is cold against your legs, but you don’t mind, for him. As you reach for his zipper, you look up at him with doe eyes. He looked pleased, which was good. 

When you try to undo his zipper his hand encases yours, stopping you. You pout again. Immediately thinking the worst. Did he not want you anymore?

“Look at you so sweet to me.” 

His hand frames your jaw, and his thumb brushes against your lip. He pushes fourth and you wrap your tongue around his digit. He then swiftly pulls it out, resulting in a pop sound. He wipes the wetness on your cheek, as he speaks. 

“I know you wanna show me that you're sorry bunny. But I need to show you something first, is that ok?”

You nod and he helps you stand up, he turns you around and tugs you down into his lap. You could feel how hard he was, through the seat of your bikini. 

You think better of grinding against him. Not wanting to be rejected again. As the thought passes, he so effortlessly slinks your legs over his. The movement causes your back to become flush with his chest. 

One of his hands sits at your inner thigh while the other splays along your bare stomach. The feel of his lips against the sweet spot of your neck makes you whimper. Makes you disgustingly sensitive. 

His palm glides up your torso, slipping underneath the fabric top. He feels and gropes at the soft skin, then subtly tweaks your nipple, causing your lips to part.

You move to rest your head on his shoulder, baring him your neck in the process. Giving more of yourself to him.

He’s gentle with you, until he starts to suck on the sensitive skin. Oddly enough it felt like it would leave a mark. You were familiar with the feeling on your chest, and places you could hide but never somewhere so visible like this. 

You weren't sure if it was his touch or the remnants from his aggression earlier, but you were starting to feel heady. 

His lips tickle as he slowly whispers into your skin causing goosebumps to erupt, “I think I need to really show you how much I care about you hmm?” His hand roams from your thigh to your covered core, and you suck in a breath. “Since you're doubting me.”

His hand dips into your bottoms, and his touch along your folds makes you feel so warm. You bite your lip when his cold ring grazes your clit. 

“Such a sloppy little pussy” He teases, as his fingers dip near your entrance to gather your slick. He slowly and methodically dances his fingers against your bundle of nerves. 

The sensation felt heavenly, he touched you better than anyone could. Even yourself.

He strums you ever so gently, and you feel heat rise along your skin. His pace grows faster and you can't help but grind your hips against his fingers. It feels too good to not. 

A distant slamlike noise bellows through the house, and you become all too aware of where you were and what you were doing with Rafe. Hopefully that wasn't them- oh, ohhh- your eyebrows knot at the pleasure of his quickened pace.

You sling your head against him, and in the corner of your vision you notice that the door is cracked open.

“Rafe, the door” you whine.

“It’s ok bunny, nobody’s coming up here. As long as you stay quiet, we’ve got nothing to worry about.”

The thought of being caught sends you over the edge. Quietly moaning and writhing under his touch,

“Fuck, there it is.” he continues his pace throughout your pulsating orgasm, “There we go. That’s it.” 

His touch strays from your clit and further down your slit. A different kind of pleasure nips at your nerves, when he dips his fingers into your entrance. They caress that soft spot within you, sending waves of ecstasy throughout your body. Eventually he coaxes another orgasm from you and you swear you could taste blood, from how hard you bit your lip.

His hand separates from your warmth, and the loss makes you twitch. 

“Open those pretty eyes for me, yeah?”

You follow his request and watch as he brings his fingers before you. Showcasing your slick that’s webbed between his fingers.

“Look at that, so fucking messy for me.”

In your euphoric daze, he picks you up from his lap and lies you down on the sheets. He hardly even has to spread your legs. You were willing for him. You’d let him do anything to you, with or without asking. He made you that way.

“You know I really think you wore this slutty little thing to get my attention, I think you wanted to make me jealous.”

“Nuh- I swear. I didn't. Just thought it was cute.”

“Oh you didn't? So you didn't think about me taking it off just like this, either?” He grabs each leg, and gently gets you out of the cheeky bottoms. 

“Didn't think of me touching you right here?” his thumb rubs along your overworked clit and you twitch. 

“Such a pretty pussy” he coos, as he continues his toying.

You don't know how or when he set himself free, but his warm member nudges its way through your slit. Rocking along your wetness and rubbing just right against your clit. The sensation was everything to you, and before you knew it you were cumming again.

“So greedy. Just cant stop cumming can you? I Think this pussy missed me?”

You feel cold and empty after that one, you need to feel his chest pressed against yours, You needed the contact, needed him so bad you didn't care if he suffocated you. 

As if he read your mind, he leans over you. Kissing you as he slides into you. Your mouth forms an O at the stretch. It had been weeks since you last had sex with him and he felt bigger than you remembered.

“I know, it’s so much isn’t it? So fucking tight for me.” You wrap your hands around his biceps, as he fucks you slow and deep. Your body bounces into the mattress from the weight of his thrusts. You squeeze his arms from the sensation, and your eyes gloss over. “Be good and take it bunny ”

His pace picks up and he continues kissing you, as if he was starved. You get so lost in the pleasure laced along your walls that you become sloppy with your kisses. 

“So drunk of my cock you can't even kiss me properly. Huh baby?”

“I-m sorry it feels so-so good Rafe” 

You feel the tightness creeping up on you again, and you whine, in protest. You can't anymore, it was too much. You press your hand to his shoulder, connecting your half lidded eyes with his.

“Cant s-too much”

“Just let it happen” he straightens his spine, pulling away from you to slink your calves over his shoulder.

The slight change in position, sends your eyes rolling back. He was so deep, hitting that perfect spot over and over again. The coil snaps and you moan is absent of noise, your eyes screw shut as he continues to spew nonsense. “Aww poor baby. Clenching me so tight. So pretty when you’re cock drunk.”

-

You had knocked out like a light, whenever Rafe was done. 

Which made it much easier for him to do what he needed. Which was damage control. 

You were a heavy sleeper, always had been after you guys fucked. So he assumed there was no risk in picking up the call right then. The phone rings a couple times before he decides to pick up. 

“I was busy Sofi” / “No I’m not coming over anymore I-something came up” / “Yeah..I’m fine.” / “I’ll take you to lunch tomorrow. That make up for it?” / “Look I gotta go” / “Yeah-yeah love you too babe.”

Rafe goes to set the phone aside when he gets another call. Just great. It’s Sarah. He knew exactly what this was gonna be about, but was he gonna let on about that? hell no.

“What do you want Sarah?” / “No” / “Yes, I’m sure. Why would I know the whereabouts of your dumb friend?” / “She probably wondered off to look for you-”

The call drops, indicating that she hung up on him. Which was good. No more questions. All his problems were solved for the time being except for the one that laid in his bed.

He watches you peacefully sleep, curled up underneath the throw blanket he laid over you. Did he like you? yeah, well at least he liked how devoted you were to him. You were pretty and naive.  

There was also the fact that he liked that he was fucking over his sister in the process. 

He didn’t mean for it to turn into this though. It was supposed to be one time, just a way for him to ease some stress and get his dick wet. He saw an easy opportunity and took it.

All he had to do was shower you with compliments. Leave lingering touches. Tell you that he liked you. Then the rest was easy.

Things changed however when he had you under him for that first time. He discovered how you’d let him do anything to you. When he got a little rough, you never once complained.

How was he supposed to just let that go? If anything he could take his frustration out on you and you’d beg for more. 

So if he had to tell you lies to keep you around, then so be it. And it seemed like he had you convinced at least for the time being.

thanks for reading! thoughts and feedback are always welcome and highly appreciated ♡!!

I love in-depth analysis of characters like this!!! Especially when a FIC fully conveys how complex of a character rafe is, I’m so in awe

like father, like son

WARNINGS: dark!rafe cameron, d*mestic vi*lence, manipulation, gaslighting

Tags: established relationship, daddy issues for both reader and rafe, canon ward (boooo!🍅)

Summary: Rafe looses his temper because you don't want to move in with him quite yet… I wc: 4.3k

Notes: inspired by this, tbh there may be mistakes but idc. tumblr is giving me sm shit rn so idk if this is gonna even show up lol, fingers crossed.

!!! 18+ ONLY !!! AGELESS BLOG's & MINOR's who like/reblog/interact with this post WILL get BLOCKED to be unblocked dm @prairiesrecs :)

You set the wine glasses in the sink, careful not to break them. As you turn on the faucet, you feel Rafe press up against you. He casually invades your space to place a kiss on the side of your forehead.  

“He really cares about you, you know?”

“I do baby.” you murmur, as you rinse out the red residue. “I appreciate how he treats me like family, it’s nice.”

Rafe’s father is the ‘he’ you’re referring to. The first time you’d met him you were under the impression that he’d  be uptight and arrogant. His business brings their family great wealth, and people with such money have a certain way of acting. You knew from first hand experience with your own father, before he passed. 

Your dad was far from perfect but he’d never done anything horrible to you, ever. You were his princess, and he was practically your idol. Well… up until you realized that even though he was perfect to you, he wasn't like that to others. He lacked faithfulness and was a lair. As you grew older, you began to notice more things. Like how he wasn’t attentive, how he was entitled, and how he hardly listened to most of the things you’d tell him. After he passed was when you truly started to differentiate between him as a father and him as a person. 

Since then, you found yourself less trusting of older men, especially rich ones. Considering where you live though, it’s merely impossible to steer clear of them. More often than not the demographic proved your point whenever you found yourself in the same setting as them. 

To your surprise though, Ward was different. He made an effort to get to know you as an individual. It feels like he sees you as your own person and not just some extension of his son. More importantly he never makes you feel like you’re an obligation. When you speak he listens. When you need advice, you know you can go to him. He also constantly checks in on you, and ensures you never feel left out. Within the year you’ve been with his son, you can feel in your heart that Ward’s grown to genuinely care for you. And oddly enough, you felt the same for him. 

“That’s because you are family” Rafe assures you while pressing his lips to your shoulder. You can feel his hands wander from your hips and up your blouse, as you lather up a glass. 

“Babe” you playfully laugh at the affection, squirming under his touch. “Are you trying to get us in trouble?”

His sole response is a hum, then he continues to feel you up. 

Usually you adore Rafes affections. But right now you’re all too aware that it’s not just you and him in the house. In the distance you can hear Ward arguing with someone in his office. The impromptu business call cut lunch between the three of you short. Hence why you were cleaning up. 

“I don’t know, I think he’s pretty occupied.” Rafe teases and you don't say anything to that. 

His hand roves along your tummy and all you can imagine is the disappointed look on Ward’s face if he were to find the two of you in such a compromising position. The thought makes you stiff, and Rafe must've taken notice because almost immediately after his touch disappears from your skin.

He remains close though, choosing to lean against the counter right beside you, watching you closely as you finish with the last glass. You shut the faucet off and tilt your body in his direction, taking notice of how he’s gazing down at you. Appearing deep in thought.

“What are you thinking about?” You ask softly, closing the small distance between you both.

He momentarily looks away from you to stare off ahead at nothing. You lean into him patiently waiting for a response. There was a subtle shift in energy in the spacious kitchen, and an almost foreboding feeling that you chose to ignore. 

He straightens to his full height, tilting his head as he scratches his jaw. “Earlier. You said something, and I’ve been thinking about it.”

“Did I say something wrong?” you joke aiming to lighten the mood. When he doesn’t laugh, you raise a confused brow. “Wait- did I say something?”

The way his eyes dart to yours unsettles you. The irritated look on his face tells you that you may have said the wrong thing. 

When it comes to your boyfriend you're usually pretty good at navigating his feelings, however you’re not perfect. It was something you’d learned to do quickly, after realizing how intense his emotions can be. Like when he would come to you sobbing, you knew just the right things to say to get him calmed down. Same when he was mad, you knew how to talk him down before he made others suffer. Rafe’s endless ability to feel, good and bad, is one of the things you love most about him because it shows that he is imperfectly human. He’s different from your selfish, ingenuine peers. 

His arms cross over his chest, and he glances over you, “You tell me.”

A slight weight settles in your chest and you start to feel pressure to figure out what exactly you said. You think back to the short lived lunch. You remember saying how you were proud of Rafe for moving up a position at Cameron development… You recall the conversation about your birthday approaching soon… Then it dawns on you. 

You remember the glare he gave you when you answered his fathers question. It was subtle, and you assumed that it was because of what his dad asked, not about what you said... 

“Is it what I said about us moving in together?”

He erupts at that, “Course it is y/n. What kind of answer was that? Do you know how embarrassing that was?” 

You blink at him in awe, not understanding. You thought you worded it perfectly. But, apparently you guys weren't on the same page.

You speak slowly, “Babe, I didn't mean to embarrass you.” You think about your next words wisely but before you can put them together he’s hurling you another question at you.

“Why don’t you think we’re ready?” The question sounds almost accusatory.

You hold back a sigh, and look at the marble floor. There’s so many reasons… yet you lump them together in too little of an explanation. “Living together is a big step.”

When you meet his gaze again his expression is unreadable. Which in your case is not good being that you rely so heavily on it. You dart between his eyes searching for any kind of hint to how he's feeling, but it was like everything had been washed away. He appeared numb. Bleak. Empty.

His cold eyes peer into yours making you shrivel in on yourself, “I feel like you're lying to me” he airs.

You shake your head, “I’m not.” 

He slowly moves away from the counter to stand directly in front of you.

“Big step.”  he mocks slowly, “You know to me that sounds like an excuse, not a reason.”

“Rafe.”

“Are you unsure about a future with me or something? Is that it?”

Your mouth falls open, “No. No, not at all. I’m more than sure I want to be with you.” You reach for his hand, intertwining yours with his “I promise.” For a brief moment you notice how his eyes gleam at your assurance, like everything’s alright again.

The glimmer of hope makes you feel the need to continue on, thinking he’d understand. “Living together is something I want to do with you, just not necessarily now. It’s a lot. We’d have to figure out finances, do a lot of planning, you know?” 

The soft look in his blue orbs dies within seconds of you finishing the sentence. A sneer appears on his face as he lets go of your hand. His head shakes in disagreeance.

“I’d take care of all of that though, so I don't know why you're saying that like it's something to worry about.” 

It was like you were talking to a brick wall.

“Rafe, my love. It’s not entirely on you to do though, it's something we do together.” You breach his space and wrap your arms around his muscular torso. “I’m sorry, ok?”

It’s silent between you two for a moment. When he brings his arms around you, and rests his chin on your head, you let out a small breath of relief. 

“I have something for you. It was supposed to be a surprise for your birthday but I’d rather just tell you now.”

“Oh really?” you murmur into his chest, glad that the conversation is taking a turn from the direction it’d previously been in.

His fingers caress up your back as he speaks, “Uh huh. The company’s developing a house on the east side of figure 8. If construction stays on top of it, it should be done in a few weeks around your birthday.”

Unease brews in your gut, and you hope that he’s talking about using this house as a party venue, and not for what you’re so anxiously thinking.

“You see, my dad thinks it’d be a good place for us to… to start, and I agree with him.”

Within an instant you feel your heart drop. 

This was why he didn't like your answer, why he felt embarrassed, and why he was so adamant on wanting to know why you weren't ready. You pull away from him, mouth parted from shock. Your hands slide down your face. 

“A house… ?” You ask out of disbelief, “No Rafe. Our first place together isn’t going to be a house. It can't be.” The words come out in a way that makes you seem certain. On the outside it may appear as if you're handling the information well, but he doesn't know how your heart hammers in your chest and how badly your nerves are tingling throughout your limbs. “An apartment is reasonable, but a house? No.” 

“Look, I don't think you understand y/n” 

Trust you understand well and clear what’s going on and it makes your airways tight. You look up at the ceiling and take notice of how it’s slowly starting to spin. You look away and take a deep breath before directing your attention back towards your boyfriend. However you can't seem to focus on him.

Your growing need for oxygen moves you past him, and out of the kitchen. Your legs have a mind of their own as they guide you down the hall. The sight of the front door brings some relief to your lungs. In just a few more steps you’d be out there.

However, your track of mind changes when you're yanked at your forearm to a complete stop. 

You stand just outside of Ward's closed office doors and the older man's voice is much clearer now as he continues to shout over the phone.

“Where the hell are you going?” Rafe grits out, wide eyed and brows furrowed.

“I need some air.” You confess. You attempt to tug your arm free but his grasp doesn't loosen, instead it does the opposite. You turn to him, “Let go. Seriously I need-”

“Stop trying to run away and fucking listen to me. He bought the place already. For you and me, It's ours.” His eyes flicker between yours anticipating a response. Your blood runs cold as you stare back at him. 

What the hell was this? This is crazy, no? Who just buys a house for someone without as much as even a discussion? It’s utterly blindsiding.

“Why?” is all you can muster up.

“I told you, he cares about you. He- he cares about us and wants us to have a good future together.” He explains, while tapping at his chest. 

Still holding you in place, he stalks closer. You feel his other hand graze up your neck, and rest at your jaw. His thumb gently brushes the area. “Say something.” 

You flicker up at him, struggling to maintain eye contact. “I don’t know what to say…” 

A muscle in his tight jaw twitches as he stares down at you, “I don’t know, how about thank you?”

Sadness clouds your features, “Rafe this is such a sweet gesture. I mean it, it’s the nicest I’ve ever gotten. But it’s too soon.” 

You guys had barely just celebrated your one year. Now what? You were supposed to up and move into a home together? That’s absurd to you. Especially because you associate a house with marriage and children, and you surely aren't ready for that either.

He tilts your head upward, forcing you to meet his intensely dark gaze. He trails your eyes as he speaks, ensuring that your attention is on him.

“This isn't the type of gift you refuse y/n. It would be stupid of you to do that… and you’re not gonna make me look bad because you’re a little scared.” 

His words cascade you with an overwhelming amount of emotions, and a frown appears on your face. 

“I need time to think.”

To your surprise, your cheeks are then squeezed together by his large hand and you whine out of discomfort.

“Y/n there’s no thinking about this'' His tongue quickly rolls over his lip, “it’s happening whether you like it or not.” He finishes with a snarl. 

Your eyes widen, out of pure shock, and your hand flies up to tug his away from your face. “The hell it is.” You scowl at him.

Within an instant your face is whipped to the side, and a stinging pain blossoms in your cheek. It’s as if time stopped. 

You draw in a deep breath, and take a moment to admit to yourself that your boyfriend just slapped you. In disbelief you turn your head slowly to look back at him. There’s this empty look in his eyes that elicits a prickle in your waterline. It’s weird because you don’t know what hurts more, the fact that he hit you or the fact that he appears to not care that he did it.

His touch feels like poison, when he pulls you closer to him. Your noses are practically touching, as he hovers over you.

“You should be grateful,” he spat lowly. 

Your eyes wander his face, and it’s the first time you register the feeling of fear towards Rafe.

The click sound of a lock and twist of a doorknob pulls you from your daze. You turn your attention towards where the noise came from, and Ward stands at his doorway in awe at the scene before him. 

Time feels slowed, which makes it easier for you to notice the little things. You watch as the older man looks down at where Rafe has a tight grip on you. The attention there makes you anxiously lick your lip, inadvertently forcing a metallic taste onto your tongue. Pain follows almost immediately at the discovery.

You could see the moment it all clicked for Ward. 

His eyebrows rose and he reeled back in disgust. Time went back to normal within an instant when he stepped in and detached Rafe from you. He shoved him up against the other door harshly. So hard that the wood rattled from the pressure.

The older man shouts at his son with vitriol laced in his voice. You don’t hear anything he’s saying, as you’re completely in your own head replaying what happened. The memory and the pain you're left with not only in your face, but in your heart, finally brings you to tears.

Wards familiar voice coos at you, “y/n honey….” His face is solemn, as he takes in your shakenness. 

He reaches out to you and you flinch uncontrollably. “Oh sweetheart” he frowns, as he pulls you into a consoling hug. You lean into him, and sob into his chest while he caresses the back of your head. When he pulls away your gaze wanders behind him to Rafe’s cold eyes.

“Hey, hey. Look at me, not him. I’m gonna handle this alright. You trust me, don’t you?” You slightly nod, then deeply sniffle. He rubs your shoulder, “Go sit in my office while I deal with him, ok?”

You move on autopilot, cradling your arms around yourself as you sit down on the couch. Ward had the doors closed, but you could hear everything. There’s a loud shove into the door that makes you twitch.

“What the hell have you done?! I want to hear it from your mouth!” There’s another shove, “Tell me exactly what you did! I want to hear you admit it!”

Your knee shakes and you can’t help but continue to listen.

Rafe’s voice is low but clear. 

“I hit her” there’s a pause, “But I don’t care that I did”

You feel your heart crack at that. How can he not care? 

There’s then a sound that can be clearly identified as a smack, which makes you wince. Another follows accompanied by rustling. 

“You are a damn fuck up Rafe! You know how lucky you are to have even found a girl like her! To have someone be that patient with you! To stick around you considering how screwed up you are! You disappointment me…” You hear panting, and wonder how aggressive Ward had been, almost worried about Rafe. “If you know what’s best for you, you’re going to fix this!”

The door rattles again. Then it opens with a click. Ward walks in first and Rafe follows behind at a distance. The blonde stops a few feet before you yet Ward continues in the direction of his desk, stopping at his mini fridge.

You glare up at Rafe, through blurry eyes and make out how his cheek burns bright red and how his jaw’s set tight.

“I’m sorry,” He murmurs, with not an ounce of remorse. 

Your anger bubbles up quickly and takes over, pushing you to get up and shove him in the chest. He hardly moves as you shove him again and again. The most you get out of him is a few quickenned blinks. 

Ward eventually steps between the two of you with one of his hands going to your shoulder to hold you back.

“Sweetheart I know, I know. He deserves it alright? You can have at him in just a second. First I need you to let me see how bad this lip is.” 

He brings a handkerchief to your lip and you wince when he goes over a painful spot.

“There we go, almost done.” He pulls away, balling the fabric in his hand. “Just a little wound, it’ll heal alright with some time.'' 

He looks at you with kind eyes, before handing you a cold pack. You bring it up to your cheek and thank him, all sniffly. He gives you a kiss on the forehead in response, “Course dear. How about we sit… yeah? We should talk about everything that just happened…” 

You nod and he gestures to one of the seats in front of his desk. You take it, and he does the same with the seat behind his desk and Rafe still stands over by the couch, brooding.

“Sit down Rafe” Ward commands, in a harsh voice. There was a large contrast in comparison to how his tone was so soft with you. 

Eventually, you hear Rafe slump into the chair beside yours but you refuse to look at him. Instead, you give your attention to Ward as he starts speaking.

“I think it’s fair to say everyone’s emotions are high right now. Some are more reasonable than others, yes?”  Ward slightly curves his lip up at you, then scowls in Rafe’s direction. 

“It’s truly unacceptable, what’s happened… I don't even know where he'd learn to do something like that.” He puffs.

It isn't hard for you to realize where he learned it from, the dots connected right in front of you. Literally. Still though it wasn't ok for him to do it to you. 

For some reason though you still feel empathy towards Rafe, likely because of how harsh his own father is being towards him.

You glance over at Rafe and take in how he’s looking down at his lap, tail completely tucked. Perhaps what he’d done was finally starting to set in.

“With that said…”, Ward continues “Our emotions can sometimes get the best of us, and sometimes they can push us to make rash impulsive decisions. You know?” The older man directs his gaze at you as he continues on. “I think it’s something important to consider. It’s just-” he sighs “I don't want anyone making any decision that they might regret over what’s transpired here today.” 

You hum, at that. Thinking over his words and trying to figure out what he’s getting on about.

“I want you to know y/n that I will be handling him, ok? He’ll never do anything like this again. For as long as you are together and as I’m alive. I promise you that.”

You blink at his assumption that you still want to be with his son. Your eyes stick to the ground and your voice comes out weak, “Sir. I don’t think I want-” you cut yourself off with a sigh. Your teary eyes look up at the graying man.“I don’t think I can be with him anymore.”

“I understand.” he swallows with a nod, “Look you know I want the best for you right? I would never force you to stay with him, that’s your decision. However, I want you to make sure you’re really thinking before you make that decision.”

“I- What’s there to think about?” you question. 

He hit you.

“There’s a lot to think about. I mean look at the relationship you two have created, how much you love each other, how much he loves you. Let me ask you this, has he ever hit you before this?” You shake your head no, 

“See. That’s something, and it shows how this was a one time mistake… that won’t happen again.”

You gnaw your lip, considering the older man’s words. 

“Listen hon, I’m not trying to sway your decision. I truly just love having you around. You may or may not know but I practically consider you as my daughter in law” he laughs softly “As for Rafe though, I can see how much he loves you.. I mean you make him a better person. I've never seen him happier than with you. I feel like you know better than anyone how he is and unfortunately how he can get sometimes. And that’s not an excuse. It’s my fault if anyone’s really, I knew that he wasn't well and I neglected it but I’m gonna get him the help he needs.”

You think over Ward’s words. It’s always been kind of apparent to you that Rafe’s needed some kind of help. You’ve been aware of the fact that he struggles with managing his emotions but you thought you were helping him get better at that. Today proved you wrong though.

Wards guidance does make you think though.

You and Rafe have been together a while and within the time he’d never done anything like this before. Also Ward was making a promise that he wouldn't let it happen again, and that he’d get his son help. With all of these solutions being proposed, you didn't want to just give up on Rafe. Because deep down you do love him and only want him to be the best version of himself.

“Well…” You murmur more so to yourself as you’re  still unsure.

“He’ll be better, I promise you that. Right Rafe?” 

You both look at the blonde and he slightly shuffles in his chair, and sniffles out a “Yeah”. 

“How’d this even happen?” Ward questions and you sniffle.

“Um- He told me about the house and I told him I wasn’t ready” 

He deflates in his chair, and shakes his head. “Oh my god… I think this is all a misunderstanding. Look… the house wasn't supposed to be something that made you feel pressured. It’ll always be there, for whenever you both are ready. I’m not gonna sell it” He chuckled, “It’s my gift to you”

Your heart swells at that assurance. “Are you sure?”

“Of course. Look at it this way, there are plenty of options for you guys with the place. When it’s ready I could  get it furnished and you both can come and go as you please. Or maybe you guys can even do a trial run for a month to see how you like it.” He leans back in his chair. “Again no pressure, I’m just throwing suggestions out there”

“That… that would be nice” You hum.

“Great” Ward smiles “Hey how about we go take a look at it now. We can do a walk through, see how it's coming along., and maybe we can even go to dinner after, I owe it to you guys. I did cut lunch short.” 

You look over at Rafe, to gauge your answer. His eyes are now brimmed with water. You reach out a hand to him. “Baby. I’m not mad at you ok?” you whisper as you intertwine your fingers with his. A tear streams down his cheek as he looks at you with soft familiar eyes. 

He squeezes your hand, with a nod. “I screwed up… I’m screwed up.”

“Babe, it’s ok. You’re gonna get help, which is good. I still love you, so much ok? Nothing’s changed alright? I promise. Let’s go see the house, yeah?” 

notes! i wanted to clarify that ward is absolutely motivated by selfish reasons and has impure intentions. he knows that reader trusts him and he uses that to his advantage to get her to stay with rafe. why does he do that? he knows that rafe isn’t necessarily as much of a problem if reader is around. he cares about protecting the family name and reputation more than her. alsooo the way that ward is treating reader (as in him being nice to her and not him) will deff harbor some resentment and jealousy in rafe! im sure nobody wanted this explanation but i wanted to give it lol.

anyways thanks for reading! thoughts and feedback are always welcome and highly appreciated ♡!! they encourage me to share more😽

This was everything I have ever wanted and more. The best bday present I could’ve ever gotten, I’m genuinely in love with you and this FIC!!! 🫶🫶

cheers to falling short

WARNINGS: dark!rafe cameron, DUB/NON-CON SMUT, drinking

Tags: reader and rafe are newlyweds, housewife kink, hate sex, breeding kink if u squint

Summary: rafe stands you up on your birthday l wc: 3.3k

Notes: this is for my sweet riri, ily and happy belated birthday @proactivetypaperson♡

!!! 18+ ONLY !!! AGELESS BLOG's & MINOR's who like/reblog/interact with this post WILL get BLOCKED to be unblocked send an ask to @prairiesrecs

The clicks of your heels reverberate throughout the foyer as you ease down the steps. You glance at your phone and curse to yourself. It’s thirty minutes past the time he’d told you to be ready. 

You didn't really do anything today- well atleast nothing outside of your norm- therefore you had no excuse to be late. Yet here you were. 

Like always, you had started the day off with making breakfast. 

The early meal was more for your husband than for you. He loved when you made him meals, and you loved making them for him. Every morning you’d get up a little earlier than him, if he’d let you out of bed, and you’d make him whatever he wanted. 

This particular morning, as you were scrambling his eggs, he came to you in a rush. He held two different color ties in his hand. One plain and one patterned.

“I need you.” He huffed, visibly flustered “Which one goes better with this suit? I- I can't decide.” 

With no hesitation you had chosen the plain one. The deciding factor being how it complimented his eyes. Like every other morning, you tied it for him only today he was… fidgety as you did so. His heightened nerves were over this deal he was aiming to secure. He had told you previously that if everything went right it would make him, and you in turn, a “shit ton of money”. 

You didn't necessarily understand why he was so keen on the deal considering how you guys already live way above your means. You were curious, but you didn't probe. He takes care of the money, he knows best. 

In that moment, you had smoothed your hands against his chest and told him, “You’re going to do great babe. You’re gonna secure this deal and then we’ll celebrate tonight. Together.” you tippy toed to kiss him, “With whatever secret you have planned for me” you smirked.

Prior to this, Rafe had told you to be ready for him in the evening. Specifically, to be ready at 8 pm. The only details he gave you were that it was for your birthday. The rest of the morning he was evasive as ever when it came to your questions about his plans.

After a lengthy goodbye kiss and some extra words of affirmation, you sent him on his way. You had spent most of the day cleaning up the house, responding to happy birthday wishes, and wondering what exactly Rafe had set out for the evening. 

At two o’clock you found yourself waiting to hear from your husband. Around his lunch he would usually call or text you to simply check in. Today however, he didn’t. 

You tried not to give it much thought, assuming that he was just super busy with his work thing. He did say that the negotiation was happening later in the day… and for that reason you didn't call him or reach out to him. You didn't want to distract him, or worse interrupt him. Especially if the meeting had already started. You were sure that he’d call you whenever he had the time. 

The day had gone on and you still hadn’t heard anything from him. Instead of worrying though, you kept yourself distracted with mundane tasks around the house. When the evening rolled around you settled on getting ready for your outing.

Your dress was easy to pick out. 

Mainly because it showcases your figure well, while still having an elegant essence to it. It’s also a dress that Rafe loves on you. Every time you wear it he can hardly keep his hands off of you. No matter the time or place.

The culprit behind your current tardiness was your hair. The original style you planned didn't turn out the way you wanted. So you had to think of something else, which took up more time than you expected..

You strut into the living room fully expecting Rafe to be sitting in the armchair with his legs spread, impatiently checking the time. To your surprise though, he’s not there. 

Your lips turn into a pout as you acknowledge your phone screen. 8:34 pm. 

The deal probably took longer than he anticipated. He wouldn't miss this. In fact he was probably on his way home right now. Likely speeding down the highway.

Thirty minutes had passed since you assumed he was on his way. Upon your wait, you cracked open a bottle of white wine, poured yourself a glass, and sat on the couch. Cheers huh? 

Time ticked on as you awaited his late arrival. One glass turned into two, then three. Then at one point you just stopped going back into the kitchen to refill the glass. Instead you brought the bottle with you to the couch and drank it straight from the spout. Eventually the alcohol broke your barriers down, and your true feelings seeped in. 

You were irritated and more importantly fed up, not caring anymore if you would be disturbing him. 

When you dialed him, it rang a couple times then went to voicemail. Immediately after you tried again, and instead of ringing that time it went straight to voicemail. The hell? 

You sent him a slew of texts afterward. 

The way that they noted ‘delivered’ confirmed to you that at least his phone wasn't dead. Which somewhat only pissed you off more, considering that he hadn't yet responded to you. Even with your anger though, you were still hopeful that he’d show up and fulfill his promise. Or at least that he’d do something to make today feel special for you.

At some point he did respond, “I’m running late, but I’ll be there.” The text was vague, but at least he was ok.

Even more time had passed since he responded. So much that you were now tired and completely wasted. Waiting felt like a lost cause. So much that you ended up calling it a night once the large wine bottle ran empty. 

Full of anger and irritation you stumbled up the stairs, drunkenly muttering some not so nice things about your husband. 

“What an asshole” you sneered, as you utilized the rail for support.

You hadn't even bothered trashing the wine bottle that sits empty in the living room. He could clean it up whenever he gets home. That was if he’d even notice. Truth was that you would likely have to do it tomorrow, but you didn't want to think about it. You just wanted to go to bed.

Red bottom heels dangle from your fingertips as you stand outside of your open bedroom door. You ponder it for a second, then grunt. Instead of walking inside, you make a not so steady beeline to one of the guestrooms down the hall. Fuck him.

You shut the door behind you, and glance at the clock that sits in the corner of the room. 11:36 pm. Fuckkkkk him! 

You don't bother with turning the light on as you stumble closer to the bed, "You're gonna love it baby” You mumble to yourself, childishly mocking Rafe and the words that he’d said earlier in the day.

You reach to your back and momentarily wrestle with your zipper. You come out triumphant and slip out of the soft material. Letting it pool at your feet. Next to go were your matching undergarments.  

How dare he? No, how could he? Rafe had missed dates before, but it hurt exceptionally more today because it was your birthday.

You scoff as you pull the neatly tucked sheets from their place. It would have been one thing if he told you that something came up or if something happened, but instead he practically screened you. All day at that! The thought of him makes you feel hot, and not in a good way. 

If he thinks that he can treat you like this, then come home to sleep in the same bed as you… he would have to be out of his mind. He can sleep alone in the master bedroom for all you care. It’s better anyways that you slept here. His scent alone on the sheets and pillows would have sent you into a fit of rage.

Your mind raced, as you laid there. You were upset, angry, sad, and disappointed. It all eventually brought you to tears, which resulted in you crying yourself to sleep. Alone and drunk, on your birthday.

The sound of a distant crash startles you from your slumber. The loud noise sounded as if a heavy figurine was knocked over. Being that you’re somehow still intoxicated, your mind goes to the worst. What if it’s an intruder?

“Baby? You down here?” you hear an all too familiar voice call from downstairs. You throw your head back into the pillow, thinking that you’d prefer the intruder. 

You turn onto your side, facing the direction of the door. You lay there, eyes open, thinking to yourself. Awaiting for his realization. You focus on the sounds of him trekking through the house, knowing that it wouldn't be long before he discovered you here. 

He calls your name, again and again, and you just stare off at the wall. Your gaze shifts to the door and to how the light beneath it darkens with a shadow.

“Where the hell are you?” his voice dragged, as he stood just outside the door. He sounded worried along with something else but you couldn't quite place it.

The sound of your phone ringing on the bedside table snaps you out of your daze. It was the specific ringtone you had for Rafe and without hesitation, you close your eyes and pretend as if you’re sleeping. You’d love to chew him out, but you were genuinely exhausted. You didn't want to deal with him tonight. He can grovel for your forgiveness in the morning.

The door creaked open.

“y/n? Are you in here….” His voice trailed off towards the end, probably at the discovery of your ‘sleeping’ frame. You hadn't missed the way his words blended into each other, resemblant of a slur.

The sound of his steps are heavy, unsteady even, as he nears you. His footsteps halt near the bed, leaving the room silent for a brief moment. The faint crumpling of plastic then fills the space. Whatever it is, he sets it on the bedside table before cursing to himself, voice all breathy. 

His large hand gently connects with your face and his thumb moves to softly rub your cheek. 

“You’re this upset huh?” He sniffles, “Yeah. I guess I fuckin deserve it.”

It became apparent to you quickly that he was drunk. Why was fucking drunk?? Maybe he was even high too from the way he was repeatedly sniffing.

His lips press against your cheek, then to your lips. When he pulls away you think that maybe he’s going to leave you alone. That maybe he realized it was in his best interest to let you be. 

You then hear some ruffling sounds, and associate the noise with shifting weight. Was he picking up your clothes?

A cold gust of air rushes you, as the covers suddenly disappear from your body. The chill is fleeting though, dissipating when his rather hot skin presses up against yours. You gasp, at the feel, unable to pretend you were asleep anymore. 

“What the-” Your words are cut short when his lips engulf yours. 

His hand practically cradles your jaw in his grasp as he attacks your lips with his. Your eyes widen at his behavior, and you instinctively press your hand to his muscular chest. The movement hardly does much to deter him, but you're able to pull away from him.

His eyes are half lidded and his lips are parted, desperate and wanting, as you stare at him in awe.

“Get off” you sneer out of disgust. He not only reeks of liquor but he tastes like it too. How the hell did he even drive home like this?

“Relax.” He coos as he caresses your jaw. There’s this intense look in his eyes when he continues, “It’s me.” 

“I know that.” You tut, “And I don't care. Get out.”

You were now upset for more than a few reasons. He was visibly fucked up, he blew you off to get like this, and on top of it all he drove home like this!

“You’re mad… I- I’m sorry alright?” He blinked slowly, “The investors took the deal- and they wanted to get drinks- and we- I lost track of time… and-”

“I don’t want to hear it” you snap, “Get out, and leave me alone.”

“I’m sorry…” He leans in to kiss you, as if that were to make things better. You tilt your head away evading his lips, and he rolls his eyes back into his head. “I’ll make it up to you. Look I promise.” 

He tugs your head back in his direction and presses his lips to yours. You whine, out in protest but he doesn't care. His hand moves to your shoulder, and roughly nudges you so that you now lay on your back. His lips never leave yours as he positions himself between your legs. 

With his movements, you feel his hard member press up against your inner thigh. It makes you gasp which only grants him access to your tongue. He swirls his against yours, overpowering you with the tastes of liquor and desperation. When his head moves to burrow between your neck and shoulder his breath fans against your clavicle.

“Let me start making it up to you now, hm?” His words sprout goosebumps along your skin. 

Your focus drifts, when his member lines up with your slit. The initial connection makes you feel tingly. Then when his hips start to slowly grind against yours, pleasure begins to seep in. 

His lips are relentless against yours, as his tip now glides effortlessly along your clit. The feel has a slight rush going to your head, while your core clenches needily at nothing.  

It was embarrassing that you were physically responding to him like this. Even mad at him, he had an affect on you. Your body had practically given in to him, but you surely weren't going to allow him the verbal or emotional satisfaction along with it.

“Rafe seriously get off.”

“Relax, alright. Let me treat my birthday girl” He murmurs, before pressing his face into your chest latching onto one of your perked nipples. 

“Rafe-” You could feel a fucking cascade surge within you, as he laved at your chest. Shit.

His large hand rests at your ribs as he sucks and rolls his tongue against your bud. He alternates between the two, teasing and biting at your soft skin. All while continuing to rock against your slit. … and fuck does it feel good. 

His head raises from your chest, and he sports a devious smirk. “Always so sensitive here, huh? Making a mess all over my cock and I havent even fuck you yet.”

Heat flows to your face, and you look away from him irritated. He could be so cocky, and he was in no position to be! Not after his actions today!

Within an instant his hand swiftly grasps your face, forcing you to keep eye contact with him.

“Baby you’re soaked, stop denying me.”

He closes the distance between your lips, but before they connect you tilt your head up. Throwing him a curve ball this time. You hardly get to relish on your victory, when his hand slips away from your jaw and his fingers curl around your throat. 

His grip tightens, and you gasp, as he possessively presses his lips to yours.

“Don’t piss me off. Try me again and see what happens.”

The restriction of air makes it hard for you to pace your breaths, and an uncontrollable moan slips out as he works your clit. 

That devilish grin appears on his face again. Then all at once he sheathes himself into you. Warmth spreads throughout your body and your focus falls to the soft moans that escape from his lips. His soft, pink, pretty lips that hover just over yours.

His eyes are half lidded as he rocks into you, completely and utterly blissed out.

“God you feel so fucking good” He praises.

You snap out of your fucked out daze, and remeber that you had to be strong. You needed to prove your point.

“This isn't me-” you gasp at a particularly deep stroke, “This isn't me forgiving you. I’m still mad at you”

His hips are slow and calculated as he thrusts into yours. “Is that right?” He chuckles lowly, “You’re so mad at me… that why you're dripping around me and sucking me in? Is that it huh?” 

His pace quickens, stroking along your walls just right. Making you so sensitive. You hate how good he’s making you feel. The swirl of emotions and confliction and alcohol has your lips parting.

“Fuck you” you whine out. 

He snickers at that. Which meant nothing good.

His pace increases almost instantaneously. He pounds into you, harder and less gentle than before. His hand moves to splay along one of your thighs. Pinning it to the mattress to further spread your legs open for him. 

The new angle allows him to reach new depths that make your vision go spotty. His hand tightens around your airways, and the pleasure has you clenching your eyes shut. You were close, you could feel it.

“Please” you moan out, not sure what exactly you're begging for at this point. “Please”

As soon as the pleas fall from your tongue, he pulls out of you. The emptiness has you longing and aching to be filled again. 

He flips you over, so that you're laying on your tummy. Your face gets buried into a pillow and a lewd muffled moan escapes your mouth when he buries himself inside you again. 

He holds you down at your waist, fucking you into the mattress with a silent rage.

“You hear that?” he taunts, knowing damn well that all you can hear is the sound of your smothered moans.

To your surprise his hand snakes around your neck, lifting you from the pillow. The sound of you squelching around him accompanied by the slapping of skin fills the air. Oh that sound. 

At this rate you can hardly remember what you were holding out for.

Your gaze trails to the bedside table, more so what sits on top of it. A bouquet of flowers. Fuck maybe he actually is sorry. 

You feel your walls begin to tighten. Your orgasm was approaching fast and you didn't know how much longer you could last. His pace was relentless.

“Rafe slow down” you whine, and pout.

He drops your head back into the pillow, then presses his chest to your back. His ragged breath fans over your ears. 

“You feel too fucking good.” He continues stroking your walls, “You make it so hard to stop. Shit maybe I shouldn’t stop. Maybe I should fuck you all night and give you a baby as a birthday gift huh?”

You grab a fistfull of the fitted sheet as your walls flutter and tighten around him. Letting the waves of electricity flow through you as he continues fucking you through it.

“Already such a perfect little housewife, the only thing missing is a little one running around. Isn’t that right?”