cleoluvrr

[cleoluvrr]

sometimes writing isn’t about talent. sometimes it’s about sitting in your chair and suffering for 45 minutes until a single sentence crawls out of your skull

[cleoluvrr]

i completely forgot i wrote this…angst really is my specialty

the worst (rafe cameron x heyward!reader)

SYNOPSIS: once you got all that you wanted, nothing was ever the same.

WARNINGS: angst, betrayal of trust

your head felt heavy with pain, frustration, and dread. a slurry of emotions took home within the folds of your minds and there were so many thoughts that you couldn’t pick a single one to focus on. there were so many sounds in a silent room with a single occupant, all echoing against the walls of your skull. your body was on fire but your blood was freezing as it ran through your veins, each cell like a needle of ice as it traveled through your heart.

it felt as if you just might combust.

what you wanted to do the most was scream, but your mouth was glued shut, lips tied up tightly and jaw clenched with a force so strong that your teeth could shatter.

rafe cameron had made a fool out of you. he was a narcissist and a thief that let nothing stand in the way of what he wanted. his greed knew now bounds and it disgusted you. it wasn’t fair that he got everything he wanted and you had to work yourself to the bone just to get a quarter of what he has. 

the freedmen's church sat empty aside from you and the woodland creatures that used it for shelter. it smelt of mildew and old wood, and the eerie feeling of someone watching you was driving you slowly insane. your eyes flew up to the beams holding the roof in place, the hiding spot of the golden cross left just as bare as the pews surrounding you. 

the building was your source of peace and punishment for your failures. 

the memories of that day plague you endlessly. the sound of pope yelling at the pogues out of frustration, them chasing after him as you remained in the same spot long after. the pain you and pope felt was different from whatever the rest of them did. for them it was an inconvenience, but for you and your brother it was a gut-wrenching, soul-crushing feeling of defeat. a torment that was generational. for yourself, there was an additional layer of betrayal.

the man you once cared for deeply had taken advantage of you.

it was all you could think of for months. your foolishness had not only hurt you, but the people that you loved the most. you should’ve never trusted rafe to do right by anyone, to have decency. you should have listened to jj when he told you to stay away from him, but you were stubborn. if you wanted to do something, you were going to do it. maybe that was your fatal flaw.

you came to the church a lot after the cross was stolen. the company of those residing in spirit was more comforting than those of the living, even if they left you feeling unsettled. you felt like you deserved it for disappointing them; your ancestors, your friends, your family.

it felt as if they all stood in the pulpit staring down at you in the pews, head hung in shame and chest heavy with guilt.

the feeling became stronger when the familiar sound of an engine grumbled outside the worn walls of the church, disgruntled spirits less than pleased with the sudden presence of the trespasser.

the sound of his footsteps didn’t move you, nor did the heat of his ocean blue eyes boring into your skin from behind. both of you remain silent for a long time, the air tense and filled with unspoken grievances. 

“why are you here?” rafe’s familiar voice broke the silence between you, the familiarity of the sound bringing no warmth to you as it once did.

“why are you here?” you repeated his question sharply, irritation dripping from your pores. “don’t you think you’ve desecrated this place enough?”

your throat vibrated in timing with each word that rolled off of your tongue. you made no effort to face the man behind you; he came into your territory without invitation, if he wanted to see your face, he could do it himself.

he gave no reply for a long moment, silence falling between you once again. his feet sounded against the ground as he approached with caution, hesitation heard clearly in each step closer to your seated frame in the front pew.

you didn't look up when he took the space in front of you, eyes still focused on the dusty, rotting floorboards. 

“baby–”

“don’t.” your voice sliced through the cool air to cut rafe short. “don’t you ever fucking call me that, rafe cameron.” the sound of the nickname lit a fire in you–an angry, dancing flame of reds and yellows that made your face hot with emotion. “i should have listened to everyone when they told me to stay away from you.”

finally you lift your gaze to meet his own. his eyes, once a beautiful ocean blue, were a dull shade of overcast skies to you. his beauty brought you no butterflies, not anymore. your soft spot for his bright smile and charming face had been eaten away by the moths that killed every monarch in your heart. instead you felt sick, saliva gathering beneath your tongue as the sight of him made the guilt you felt amplify tenfold. 

you swallowed down the liquid, but the sick feeling never went away

“i didn’t mean for everything to turn out like this, y/n…i really didn’t.” his voice was coated in sincerity, but you’d do well to never believe a word that came out of his mouth again. “i just…it–” the blonde ran a hand over his head as he struggled to find his words. “i had to do what i had to do for my family, okay? i would never do something to hurt you–not on purpose.”

“well, you did hurt me, rafe.”

“and i understand that.” he nodded at you. “i hurt you, and you probably think i’m a piece of shit. but–just think of being in my position for a minute; wouldn’t you do the same thing? sometimes we have to make hard decisions, so don’t think that i wanted to do that, y/n…i had to. my family needed the cross.”

if you had the energy, you'd laugh in his face. rafe’s words would be comical had this been a badly written sitcom. you mustered up a hearty scoff instead, the dramatic sound echoing off the walls of the church as you stared up at him is disbelief. 

“you didn’t need the cross, rafe. ward is a greedy bastard and you're doing his bidding because you want his approval.” you didn’t hold back your disgust with the man standing before you, or your disdain for his father. “do you know why it was hidden in here? because denmark tanny knew that the people needed it. people that were stolen from their homes and didnt have a single thing to their names. my people, rafe–that’s why he hid it in a fucking freedman’s church.”

“y/n–”

“you live in that man’s house–you steal his gold, you steal his cross, and you desecrate the grave of his wife. a grave that he was killed for digging.” tears were beginning to build up in your eyes from the rage and feelings of betrayal consumed you. “you use me as a pawn…you come into this church and disturb the souls that lived lifetimes without freedom because of people like you, so fueled by your desire for power that you’ll stop at nothing to get it…or keep it.”

rafe stared at your wordlessly, mouth opening and closing like a fish as he scraped his mind for a response.

standing from your seat, you shoved him out of the way as you made your way to the back of the building. if he stumbled you didn’t notice, eyes trained on the exit on the other side of the room. everything you’d been holding back for months was starting to come to the surface after just a few minutes in his presence.

you had to get away from him or your heart just might explode and paint the wooden panels lining the walls a dark shade of red.

you face him once more as you reach the doorway of the church, a thought reaching your mind through the thick clouds of emotions that forever surrounded it. a breeze caused a chill to run down your spine and your jacket covered arms to fill with goosebumps.

the tall man stood in the same place you left him, stupefied and disgustingly handsome. it was the first time you’d ever seen him rendered speechless. you didn’t need to add insult to injury, but he didn’t deserve the kindness of your silence.

he should live with everything he’s ever done haunting him just as it haunts you.

“to tell you the truth, i wish we never…” shaking your head, you allow him to infer rather than finishing your sentence. the embarrassment from your stupid decisions was too strong for you to say it out loud. it only managed to irritate you further–he should feel shame for his actions, not you. “you really are the worst, rafe cameron. i hope you know that.”

[cleoluvrr]

how would reader react if anyone told her to her face that she deserves better than rafe? we know that fear isn’t the only thing keeping her from being with him although it does play a part ( based on the last chapter) i remember this clip from euphoria where maddy was getting told to her face about nate and she got feisty about it, do you think reader world react the same?

hssh reader is very aware of her situation and wouldn’t disagree if someone told her that she deserves better to be completely honest.

rafe is her first ever relationship, she doesn’t know anything other than him. she loves and fears rafe, not only what he’ll do to her but also what he’ll do to himself if she ever left him. reader is aware that rafe isn’t stable and she would feel an immense amount of guilt leaving him—she thinks that he needs her and that he’ll get worse without her.

they’re a lot like nate and maddie relationship-wise, but really as individuals. reader is a lot more docile and self-aware of her situation than maddie was, so she wouldn’t lash out about rafe being talked about because she knows they’re probably right.

[cleoluvrr]

i feel like this deserved way better like guys this is my best work besides hssh 😞

F&MU (rafe cameron x reader)

SYNOPSIS: i hate you turns into i love you in the bedroom.

WARNINGS: explicit sexual content, breeding(kinda), enemies-to-enemies, friends-with-benefits(they're far from friends)

word count: 2.3k+

masterlist

“i need you stay quiet.” rafe whispered breathily into your ear. “we aren’t–fuck…we aren’t alone, remember?” 

you could barely process his words, whining in response as he held you still against his lap. all you could focus on was the feeling of his cock so deep inside you that it was almost uncomfortable; the sleeping cameron family spread throughout the house was a second thought.

“y/n…” he hissed. lifting your head from its hiding place in his shoulder, you meet rafe’s eyes with an incredulous look on your own face. how quiet did he expect you to be when he had you like this?

“rafe, shut up.” the words were gritted out from between your tightly clenched teeth. you released a harsh breath when you felt him move beneath you, the minor readjustment sending him deeper than he was just a moment before. “i’m trying. you’re the one that called me over here without telling me your family was home.”

“sorry.” was all he said. it was a disingenuous apology and you rolled your eyes in mild irritation. “are you gonna be quiet so i can move?”

he wasted no time the moment he saw you nod your head, the hands gripping your waist working to help move you up and down his shaft. you hated riding–it was tiring and you lacked the stamina to last in the position for more than a few minutes at the pace he liked–, but it was the only way to keep the bed frame beneath you from squeaking noisily and prevent the headboard from tapping against the wall.

rafe was big–almost too big. his dick would go in no more than two-thirds of the length every time you came back down. if he had it his way, you would take the whole thing, but he was smart enough to not risk it with his sisters just down the hall. if you could barely contain yourself now, you would stand no chance then. 

your heavy head fell back down to rest on rafe’s shoulder, a hand coming up to cover your mouth the moment you felt a moan try to crawl off your tongue. the slow, deep strokes made it nearly impossible to stay completely quiet. it annoyed rafe, made clear by the way he shushed you again, but you found it hard to care.

“would you rather suck my dick since you can’t shut the fuck up?” rafe didn’t pause his movements as he asked the question, the bulbous head scraping against your walls leaving you panting. you shook your head rapidly and he chuckled, one hand leaving your hip to tangle itself into your hair. pulling head away from his neck by the handful of braids, he forced you face him as he rocked you back and forth over his lap. 

you didn’t think you could get any wetter, thighs sticky with the mixture of both of your arousals, but you could feel yourself gushing all over him as he held his dark gaze on you. rafe’s eyes were always something you couldn’t get enough of, his heated stare leaving you reeling anytime it was focused on you. 

it was pure entertainment for him to watch you try and maintain your silence, a small grin playing at his lips as he watched your eyebrows pinch together in concentration. you wanted to be annoyed with him, and you probably would be once you were finished, but right now? all you could do was tremble in his lap as you clenched around him.

as reward for your efforts–or punishment, his intentions were unclear to you–, rafe sped up the pace of his thrusts. you had lost all control of the situation now, rafe shifting the two of you down for a better angle; an angle that allowed him to fit fully inside of you. 

you could cry, from the pleasure or the deliciously painful feeling of the blonde’s dick knocking against your cervix. there was no was no way rafe actually cared about waking his siblings up, if he did then he wouldn’t be fucking you like he wanted the neighbors to hear. 

rafe forced you to lean down over him, bare chest smushed against his as he fucked up into you. his feet were planted firmly into the mattress, arms wrapped around your body to keep you close to him while his thick cock completely destroyed any intention you had of keeping your presence in the house unknown. 

“r-rafe…shit! too much!” you whispered harshly into his ear. you could hardly make out the words over the sound of skin against skin. “slow down.” 

“okay.” he said, nodding his head.

he didn’t–he continued with the tortuous pace, bringing you close to tears. you tried to push away from him but his grip on you was firm, the flexing of his biceps around you a presentation of the strength he held over you. all you could do is lay there and take it, trying your best to not disturb the rest of the house.

“rafe!” you tried scolding him but it sounded more like a whine than anything else. it was hard to be mad when you could feel yourself becoming soaked from his manhandling. 

“i’m sorry baby…” he wasn’t, you simply couldn’t believe it. “jus’ let me fuck you right, okay? you can take it, you’ve done it before.”

you couldn’t, but that didn’t matter to rafe. when you started the whole ordeal of sneaking around with each other, he made it his mission to train you into fitting all of him. he didn’t like to hold back; he lacked the patience to do such a thing. he like to hear you whine and look into your teary eyes while you struggled to take him whole. it made him feel superior to know that nobody had ever fucked you open like him.

“yeah, you always take it so good…” each word ended with a grunt as he drilled into your poor cunt, the slick arousal leaking out of you splashing against your thighs from the impact. “saying it’s too much but this pussy is just begging for more…you lying to me?”

there was no possible way for you to answer, not when you could feel each thought falling out of your head with every thrust. you babbled something out in response, though it was nothing comprehensible.

“you love getting stretched out by this dick, huh?” you don’t think he was actually asking, but you nodded your head instinctively anyways. “fuckin’ you so deep you can’t think about anything else…can’t run from it, just gotta take it.”

the pressure building in your abdomen was becoming unbearable, walls clamping down incessantly around the rich boy’s shaft as he explored you with its length. your whining got louder as you felt the oncoming of your release, hands trapped and unable to grab onto anything to ground yourself even a little.

rafe could feel the vice grip around him, a hiss leaving his lips as he struggled to move freely within you. you could tell he was close too, even through your foggy mind you could feel his thrusts becoming sloppier. still, he was unrelenting as he plowed into you.

“you close angel? you gonna cum for me?” you nodded again. “sit up, i wanna see your face.”

when you didn’t move, rafe did it for you. he lifted his back up off the bed and took you with him, flipping you two around to switch positions. he had tunnel vision as you became lost in the pleasure he was giving. your hair was spread out on the pillow, brows strung together tightly, and mouth wide open as you tried to catch the breath he just couldn’t stop stealing from you.

“so pretty when i’m fucking you. so, so pretty.” he said as he stared down at you. “way prettier than when you’re being a bitch.”

you reached up and pushed at his muscular chest weakly, the slick comment reaching through your hazy mind just enough to show your mild irritation, but not enough to actually say anything in response. he chuckled at your attempt and grabbed your hand. the blonde leaned down, so close to your face that you could feel his lips brushing against yours. 

“i like you better when you can’t say shit but how good i’m fucking you.”

“don’t piss me off rafe…and don’t kiss me.” you managed to grit out, making rafe smile against your lips before he pulled away from them. he grabbed your legs from around his waist and spread them wide, pushing them up and towards the mattress. a pornographic moan escaped your throat as he dug deeper. “shit! what is wrong with you?”

you were absolutely going to kill him when you got the chance, but that was the last thing on your mind as you felt the slow building orgasm finally fall off the edge. it came with no warning, rafe’s words both a distraction to your mind and the final push your body needed to reach its peak. 

the vice grip around rafe’s length made him curse quietly, replacing his punishing strokes with slow, deep ones as he tried to hold himself off from finishing himself. he reached down to rub circles on your swollen clit to make up for his slowed pace. you ground down against his hand as he played with the sensitive bud and reached to grab his forearm, unsure of if you were trying to stop him or pull himself closer.

“i don’t think i’m pissing you off, am i?” he lifted your thighs back up from the mattress and pulled you closer to him before throwing them over his shoulders. his hands were tight around your waist as he brought you down to meet every snap of his hips. “nah, i think you love me right now.”

“can you just cum already? fuck!” you slapped a hand over your mouth after a particularly rough stroke from the man above you, though it was useless to try to stay quiet now. if anyone was awake then they definitely knew what you two were up to.

“c’mon, you know you love this shit.” 

rafe’s hips became sloppier with their movements as he went on, stuttering as you squeezed around him over and over. his face was tight with concentration as he chased his own release. 

all you could do was take it; whining pathetically as his hips rolled into yours, the blonde using your body as a fleshlight. you squeaked in surprise when you felt him press down on your stomach without warning, warm palm spread out over the sweat covered flesh. 

“you feel that? that’s me all in your fucking stomach, y/n.” rafe said as he applied more pressure to the area covered by his large hand. you could feel the head of his cock knocking against the entrance of your impenetrable womb like it was trying to break in.

“rafe, please…” your voice was weak and you didn’t really know what you were pleading for, but you could feel yourself about to cum again. your body was on fire and rafe was the fuel keeping it aflame. 

“i’m gonna fill you up so good…put a baby in you…” you clenched at the words involuntarily and it made him smirk darkly at you, teeth glinting in the moonlight peeking through the window. “gonna have you fucking the cum back inside when you go home, wishing it was me.”

the image he implanted into your mind made the chain snap, your second orgasm washing over you just minutes after your first one. the feeling of your gummy walls sent rafe over the edge as well, any rhythm he had left gone as he frantically fucked into you with his twitching cock.

you felt his warm release spill deep inside of you and you never felt more glad to be on birth control in your life. especially when he was fucking it into you like he wanted to actually get you pregnant.

he pulled away slowly and you whimpered at the uncomfortable feeling of his tip slipping out of your entrance. sitting up on your elbows, you glanced down at rafe’s dick with curious eyes. it was covered in the combined juices produced by the two of you. it was still semi-hard and you swear it twitched when rafe felt your eyes on it.

“look at that…look at the mess you made.” rafe wasn’t talking about the one left behind on his length, rather the one leaking from your abused cunt. 

he reached towards it and collected the liquids dripping out of you before shoving them back inside. you grabbed his wrist with a swiftness but he didn’t pull away, fingers continuing to pump his cum back where he released it originally. 

“can’t waste it, baby. jus’ let me put it back for you.” rafe’s eyes flicked up to your tearful ones from his digits toying with your oversensitive hole. he leaned in close and placed a kiss beneath your ear, smiling at the low whines leaving your throat. “gotta make sure it all stays in, or else i gotta do it again.”

you felt his fingers slip out of you after a few torturous minutes, the three of them coming together to deliver a couple of soft smacks to your clit before pulling away completely. rafe pulled away from you as well to sit back on his haunches. 

his gaze washed over your shivering frame, admiring his handiwork. he was hard again; the way his eyes blue eyes remained dark and glazed over as he watched you like a predator in the wild.

"i hate you." your voice was crackly and broken as you spoke but that didn't stop you.

rafe nodded at you silently as he took hold of your legs again. he pulled you closer, allowing you to feel his hardness against your plush thigh. lining himself up with your entrance, he slid the head back in teasingly and pulled back out, repeating the action until he felt you shift towards him.

"right..." he said as he shook his head in disbelief. you gasped quietly as he pushed himself back in fully, head landing on the mattress beneath you due to your elbows giving out. "but no one else can do this for you."

[cleoluvrr]

this is the first thing i ever wrote can you believe it

proper touch (rafe cameron x reader)

SYNOPIS: don't try to hide it, you deserve a proper touch

WARNINGS: explicit sexual content, mean!rafe (he's nice for like a second), degradation, hand-job (f receiving), dacryphillia (reader is a crybaby and rafe likes it), slightly dub!con

word count: 3k+

your back was pressed tightly against his chest, his warm hand pressed just as firmly against your mouth as a means to silence your barely contained whimpers. you were utterly trapped, legs held open by the strong man’s as he forced you to take all that you could handle and more.

it was nearly impossible to keep still, the mind-numbing feeling of overstimulation causing you to squirm and twitch in his lap involuntarily. the soft sheets beneath you were soaked in sweat and the essence of your pleasure, the scent overwhelming you as it filled the air around you.

his breath was hot and heavy against your neck as he whispered the most degrading things you’ve ever heard into your ear. it only made you wetter, the sounds of your arousal amplified as his thick, long fingers drilled into your aching sex. you could hardly find it in you to feel embarrassed by the loud squelching, mind occupied with trying to keep quiet as the blonde destroyed your resolve minute by minute.

“god, y/n…you’re so fucking disgusting” rafe’s voice was low in your ear, the darkness of the sound sending a wave of warm tingles to the pit of your stomach. “i never expected this from you.”

you whine beneath his hand as he pulls his fingers out of you, hips chasing the digits with a desperation that you could have never imagined yourself feeling before this moment. rafe chuckled at your attempt to keep him in but doesn’t do what you want, instead using the wetness he collected from your insides to rub soft circles into your clit. 

you could scream from the frustration you felt if rafe’s palm didn’t have your lips trapped beneath it. 

“walking around here acting like you’re so sweet, so smart. stop moving so fucking much.” you screwed your eyes shut at the sharp sting you felt against your swollen clit, the sudden pain making you release a muffled cry. “i thought you were shy and quiet, y/n? what happened to that?”

your legs tried their hardest to close but rafe’s longer one’s kept them locked in place and unable to stop the brain-melting ministrations. 

“you were too shy to talk to me, huh? is that it?” rafe interrogated you but you weren’t sure if he really wanted an answer, especially when he already knew. “you get all dolled up and put on those pretty little skirts just for me, just to get my attention. did you think i wouldn’t notice? the way you bend over in front of me just so i can see the panties hiding this pretty pussy?”

well, he wasn’t wrong. you’d been hired to tutor rafe’s little sister, wheezie, which meant you came to the cameron’s residence quite often. you went to school with rafe and always had a crush on him. he was two grades above you so you never even thought of talking to the older, more popular guy. 

it wasn’t until this summer that you actually tried to get even a fraction of his attention.

you’d just graduated in the spring, and you spent the entire summer before college working for ward cameron as his daughter’s tutor. your job was your main focus, but every opportunity you had to gain rafe’s attention, you took.

if rafe was in the kitchen while you and wheezie were taking a break, you’d seize the opportunity to grab yourself something to drink. you’d take a water bottle from the fridge and drink it right in front of him, using your clumsiness as an excuse when you would accidentally spill the water down your chin. you’d let out a squeak as the cold water dripped down your neck and onto your chest. the image of your breasts glistening in the sunlight from the moisture and your hard nipple poking through the thin top you wore would send rafe racing off from the kitchen, eyes nearly bulging from his head.

you would purposely not wear shorts beneath your skirts when you knew he would be home. clumsiness was once again to blame when you would drop your phone a few feet away from him, pretending to be completely oblivious of his presence as you bent over to retrieve the device. it was obvious he was staring, especially when you could hear him inhale sharply at the sight of the frilly, little lace underwear you picked out just for him.

despite all of this, you avoided any direct conversation with him for most of the time you were there. you weren’t sure how you were so bold to brush your ass up against his clothed dick as he helped you reach a glass from the top cabinet, but you knew you weren’t confident enough to strike up anything more than small talk.

you were shy, yes. you were also quiet. it was easier to tease than it was to speak, and it got the message across either way. If it didn’t then you wouldn’t be in rafe’s bedroom getting fucked dumb by his fingers.

you guessed the straw that broke the camel's back was the moment you "accidentally" flashed him while walking up the stairs to the guest bedroom. you claimed that you were going to take a nap while waiting for wheezie to get back from her friend's house. rose forgot to tell you that she was going to be out today and felt bad, offering the privacy of one of the extra bedrooms for the couple of that her step-daughter would be pre-occupied.

you only took the offer because you didn't see rafe downstairs. you assumed he wasn't home, leaving you feeling embarrassed and disappointed at his absence. you planned to take it to another level of teasing today, completely disregarding putting on panties before leaving the house.

rose was in the kitchen, sarah was in her room, and ward was in his office as you made your trek up the grand staircase. you weren't aware of any other presence in the manor until you reached the top of the stairs.

rafe's strong hands firmly grasped your arms the second you landed on even flooring. he wasted no time dragging you in the opposite direction of where you were originally walking, barely allowing you time to register who it was before shoving you into his bedroom and slamming the door shut.

"i've had enough of this shit, y/n." is what he said as he approached you like a predator, trapping you and leaving you completely at his mercy.

"rafe, what are you talking about?" you played dumb with him, totally aware of what he meant but stricken by fear. he was intimidating from afar, but being that close to him made your knees shaky and weak.

"you must be stupid if you think i don't know what you're doing." he was practically stalking towards you as he spoke, and you were unable to move. "you think i don't know what a desperate slut looks like?"

"what?" is the only word you could get out. you could feel you heart constricting and your stomach tingling warmly at the sound of his words.

"desperate for someone to plug your greedy, little pussy up with their big cock, huh? is that it?" he was barely two inches away from you now, knuckles lifting your chin up to force you to meet his eyes. they were full of darkness and lust, heat radiating of his shirtless body onto yours. "i wonder what it's like to fuck a smart girl into a brainless bitch?"

you already felt like a brainless bitch, the way you stood there floundering like an idiot as he eyed you dangerously. you had no underwear on to catch your arousal, the silky fluid beginning to leak onto the very tops of your thighs as you stood there frozen.

he tilted his head at you, lips quirked up in a devilish smile.

"if you needed a proper fuck, you could've just asked." he feigned a pout for a second before speaking again. "i don't think you deserve it, though...what do you think?"

he pulled away from you, hand lifting to his face as he pretended to be in deep thought. your eyes immediately went to the long, thick fingers he was using to rub across his bottom lip.

you gulped as his biceps flexed and the veins in his arm protruded. he heard you release a shaky breath and smiled darkly at you as he took notice of your heated gaze on his muscular arms.

"i guess i need to stretch you out first...don't need you crying all over my dick because you can't take it."

he was right, because here you were, crying from just two of his fingers stretching you open. it was nothing like touching yourself. his hands were bigger, stronger, faster. way more experienced than your own.

you were leaking from every hole, crying and drooling uncontrollably from being stuffed full of your crush's fingers. it was hard to stay quiet, even with rafe's hand pressed against you quivering lips. you weren't sure what you'd do if anyone in the house heard what was happening, but it was starting to get hard for you to care; especially after being denied your release for the entire time rafe had his fun with you.

“such a sweet girl making a mess all over my bed…” rafe tuts in feigned disappointment, abruptly removing his hand from your pussy completely. you didn’t get a chance to complain when he uncovered your mouth because it was immediately stuffed full with the sticky fingers that he was using to dig you out.

“clean it up.”

you hesitated for a moment before wrapping your tongue around the digits. you tried to go slow but rafe didn’t like that, free hand coming up to hold your jaw open to use it freely. he fucked your mouth with the same force he used on your pussy, throat clenching as he explored every crevice. he ignored every gag and whimper, the desperate tugs at his forearm and the tears running down your face unnoticed by him as he watched you throat his fingers messily. 

drool soaked his hand as he played with your tongue, the fluid dripping both of his wrist and down your chin to ruin the shirt you wore. you could feel the saliva pooling in your bra, the liquid free-falling and trailing down the exposed tops of your breasts.

“what a nasty little bitch.” rafe said as he removed his fingers from the back of your throat. you sucked in a sharp breath, coughing as you blinked away the tears leaking from your eyes. “who would’ve thought? what’s that thing they always say–the shy ones are the freakiest?”

you could feel your body begging for a release after being played with for over an hour without one. his words were only adding fuel to the fire, leaking hole clenching around nothing as he called you names.

your silent pleads were heard by rafe, made clear by the way he greets your clit with the soaked hand he used to fuck your mouth. he showed no mercy as he rubbed brutal circles into the sensitive bundle of nerves. It was almost too much for you to handle.

“rafe, please…” your voice was broken and quiet despite the fact that you’ve barely spoken all day. it sounded weak but you didn’t care, way too far gone to care about anything else but having him back inside your fluttering walls.

you reached a shaky hand up to wrap around his wrist, the strong fingers wrapped around your neck leaving your mind in a frenzy. he smacked it away and dropped his hand from its place on your throat, instead using it to collect your wrists and hold them tightly in his grasp.

“rafe, please…” he mocks you as his soaked hand pulls away from your lower lips briefly to give them a harsh smack. you sucked in a sharp breath of air, well aware that his palm was no longer preventing you from screaming out for his whole family to hear. “shut the fuck up and take it. you wanted it, so i’m giving it to you.”

his thick fingers plunged back into you without warning and you yelped loudly. that didn’t stop him, rather he sped up to a brutal pace that made tears begin running down your face once again. the heel of his hand smacked against your clit with every movement and your hips ground down into the bed, unsure if you were trying to escape or pull him in deeper.

pants and whines filled the room in harmony with the wet sounds of skin on skin. your shame and control was slipping through your fingers with each thrust of his hand. rafe released your wrists after a particularly loud moan, the pornographic sound resulting in him slapping his hand over your mouth once again.

“shh shh…” rafe whispers against your ear softly. he doesn’t slow down despite his attempts to quiet you. “gotta stay quiet, baby. you don’t want everyone to hear, do you?”

you don’t answer, the question going in one ear and out the other as he angrily drilled your cunt. he was fucking you like he wanted the world to hear you; you were shaking like a leaf and he showed no signs of letting up. instead he went harder, something you didn’t think was possible. you were given no chance to quiet down, sobs breaking through his hand as you felt a pressure building in your core.

“i said shut the fuck up, y/n.” rafe pressed harder against your mouth in an effort to control the sounds but you couldn’t hold back your sobs. “are you crying? god, you’re so pathetic.”

the rope in your stomach had been stretched from end to end, ready to snap. you rolled your hips into rafe’s palm in an attempt to apply more pressure to your twitching clit. the blonde pressed his thumb into the nerve after taking notice of your desperate squirming and you threw your head back against his shoulder.

“what a fucking crybaby.” rafe chuckled menacingly, fully aware of the torturous pace of his digits. the repeated tightening of your walls did not go unnoticed by him. “you gonna cum? gonna make a mess all over my hand?”

you frantically nodded your head, the approaching orgasm only sped up by his dirty words. your hand to flew his forearm and sunk its nails into the skin. he didn’t flinch, instead laughing quietly at your quaking frame.

“then fucking do it.” he commanded. “let me feel this cunt drool all over my fingers, baby.”

that was all it took for you to break, hips lifting off the bed as you felt all the heat in your body travel to you core and leak out of you in a stream of pleasure. rafe continued to fuck into you, fingers scraping against your walls in a way that left your mouth open in a silent scream underneath his palm.

rafe hissed every time you clamped down involuntarily, bones crushed by the constricting movements of your insides.

"fuck, you're so tight...relax." his voice in your ear made you do anything but, hole tightening around his digits even more. you let yourself untense in his hold with great difficulty, the fingers that were struggling to fit inside due to your incessant clenching now pumping smoothly through your wetness.

"that's right...good girl, good job." rafe said softly. the sound alone would make you moan if you weren't already. "just let me fuck you open, baby..."

your body shook with sobs of pleasurable pain at the overstimulation, rafe still fucking you through your orgasm. you tried pushing him away but you were weak, the shove barely acknowledged by the blonde still playing with your twitching hole.

“rafe…” you whined his name after pulling his hand away from your mouth. “ ‘s too much…” your thighs weakly clamped around his hand between your legs but that didn’t stop him. he pressed a kiss to your forehead, the sweet gesture a complete switch from the borderline bullying he put you through just a few minutes prior.

“you got it, baby.” he said softly against your skin as he watched his fingers go in and out of your used cunt. “you can take it, it’s okay.”

the sweet words in combination with the slow, deep strokes against your sensitive walls had you reeling. you didn’t even know you were close again until you were coming undone again, a high pitched whine escaping your throat as you squeezed and gushed around your crush’s thick digits for a second time.

gulping dryly, you gathered yourself before untangling your legs from rafe’s. you threw the shaky limbs over the edge of the bed haphazardly before standing to your feet, yanking your skirt back down from where rafe had gathered it to your waist. you licked your chapped lips as you stood there awkwardly, eyes avoiding rafe’s completely as your mind raced with thoughts of the scene that just took place.

“what are you doing?” rafe asked from his place on the bed. he was resting his back against the headboard, legs spread wide enough for you to see the large bulge poking through his sweatshorts. 

you could barely form an answer, throat dry and eyes occupied with ogling his shirtless torso flexing as he readjusted himself.

“um,’ you cleared your throat as you thought of something to say. you couldn’t, hand coming up to play with the ends of your hair as you welcomed the uncomfortable silence.

“you don’t think you're leaving, do you?” the blonde tilted his head at you, a small smirk playing on his lips as he watched you squirm. you were sure you looked a hot mess, dried tears and saliva running down your neck and chest. it only made you shift more.

“well,” you started. your mouth opened and closed a few times like a fish out of water. “I don’t–i don’t know…” 

rafe stared at you menacingly and it left you feeling a bit frightened. it also made wetness begin to form between your legs once again, the warm, tingly feeling making another appearance. you as he reached down to rub himself through his shorts, completely mesmerized by the way the veins in his arms protruded against the skin.

"i said i'd give you a proper fuck. i meant that."

[cleoluvrr]

girl i need to know what or who that attempted suicidal warning is about!! ever since i noticed it i’ve been needing to know what’s that about and omg pls do scare me bc i am ready 🙊🙊🙊

i’ve even tried to predict it but still idk who that could be for 😭

1) russian roulette

2) murder suicide

my only hints 🤐

[cleoluvrr]

do you think that rafe actually does try to do better or be better for reader?

it’s canon that rafe is clean from drugs in the later seasons so eventually he’ll get better at that, but as far as the abuse goes not really. even if it’s not physical, he knows that reader’s fear is keeping her with him. rafe and reader do love each other but she is also afraid for her life/what rafe will do and rafe takes advantage of that at every opportunity.

frankly he’s going to get worse the longer they’re together.

[cleoluvrr]

one song that remind me of hssh is Love Me not by Ravyn Lenae 🙏🙏

obviously high school sweethearts is based off the k-12 album by melanie martinez, but it also reminds me of my darling true by nicole dollanganger

[cleoluvrr]

to add on to the last ask

“the chance that he would ever stop being a terrible person was minimal. it had to run in his dna–maybe it skipped sarah and wheezie, but the trait definitely passed from ward unto his son”

so does this mean that reader likes sara and wheezie (also is it a mutually feeling) and that she doesn’t like ward? (the feelings aren’t mutual?)

reader doesn’t like ward because of the way he treats rafe. ward is very nice to reader and almost treats her like a daughter, but knowing how he treats her boyfriend, she doesn’t really reciprocate the feeling.

wheezie likes reader and doesn’t know how rafe treats her because both rafe and reader try to hide it from her. reader and wheezie have a little sister/big sister like relationship.

sarah knows how rafe treats her because she’s seen/heard it and sierra, reader’s sister, has told her about the things she’s heard as well. reader and sarah are friendly but not friends—reader doesn’t want to upset rafe and sarah would rather keep her distance from anything having to do with her brother.

[cleoluvrr]

i remember rafe saying that he thinks that his dad likes reader more than his own son(rafe). So why is that and how does Ward treat or view her? ugh i’d just love to see reader interact with more characters so we could understand the dynamics here. i wonder so much what is her relationship like with ward or even sara? Especially bc we know that rafe talks about them(his family) to her but at the same time we also know that she’s cool with John B and Kiara so her and sara must interact with each other at some point, right? Does reader and sara like each other?

we all know rafe and ward have a pretty streaming relationship, so i think ward likes a lot of people more than rafe. in this case, ward thinks that reader is a very smart and sweet girl, and also the complete opposite of rafe. even though she’s a good influence on him, he doesn’t think his son deserves someone like her and thinks she should get out while she can. however, rafe is still his son and he will do anything to protect him, even if it’s detrimental to reader.

rafe is very controlling of reader’s social life, so she doesn’t have friends that he doesn’t approve of. she knows kiara because their parents are friends and sierra, her little sister, is friends with the pogues. rafe barely tolerates her being around kie, so her hanging out with the other pogues is completely out of the question. it’s why rafe gets so mad about her going to the cut.

he keeps her very isolated so that people don’t influence her into leaving or try helping her leave him.

reader isn’t friends with the pogues, her little sister is and she just has to be there to supervise because her parents don’t want her going on crazy escapades or getting into trouble. she’s cool with them, but they’re younger than her and rafe would also kill her if she tried actually being friends with them.

sarah and reader are cordial but don’t have much of a relationship because reader is older than sarah and they don’t run in the same group. this timeline takes place from mid obx1-obx2, so sarah hasn’t gone fully pogue yet. sarah thinks reader is too good for rafe and also kind of stupid for being with her brother, so rafe doesn’t like her being around reader.

[cleoluvrr]

i never read my own fics but this one low-key might bring me out of my writers block

high school sweethearts (rafe cameron x reader) - I

these are the requirements, if you think you can be my one true love

WARNINGS: mature content; dark!rafe, dub!con, choking, domestic violence, substance abuse & addiction, controlling behavior, coercion, manipulative behavior, stalking, toxic relationship, attempted suicide ,kook!reader

masterlist

series masterlist

rafe’s head weighed down your chest, tears soaking through your pajama shirt that left your skin feeling sticky from the salty substance. his large body was racked with sobs and while it may have made someone else feel pity for the boy, all you could feel was the uneasiness creeping up your spine.

he’d shown up randomly in the dead of night, the sound of his knock at your window leaving you filled with so much dread that you almost ignored the desperate tapping. the tall man stumbled in like a fawn, leaking blood from his flushed, teary face that left stains all over his shirt. as he came closer, the red scratch left behind from his father’s family ring was clear on his cheekbone, raised and pink from the irritation.

it was the second time that week he’d come over like this. the bruises from the last time had not even healed before being overlapped by fresh ones.

you weren’t sure why rafe and his father got into it so bad, so often; but it had taken a toll on you both mentally and physically for having to deal with the aftermath all on your own. 

after nursing his injuries and having him change into a spare shirt he’d left in your room, all you could do was allow him to cry into you. it was the only thing you had the energy to do, and there were no words you had to say to him to make him feel any better than he did now. 

so, here you sat with your back against the headboard, legs outstretched and weighed down by your boyfriend’s body as he buried his face into you chest to muffle the cries that he couldn’t stop from escaping. sleep was slowly creeping through your body, but you fought it off to pacify your aching lover’s pain.

“it’s okay,.” your voice was soft, the sweet sound vibrating against his ear drums. “you don’t need to cry, i’m right here.”

you continued to speak soothing words to him for what felt like an eternity before he finally began to calm down, his cries steadily reducing to erratic sniffle every few dozen seconds. your arms cradle his upper body as you gently rock side to side in both an effort to calm him and keep yourself awake.

a pair of puffy eyes stared back up at you as rafe pulled his face from its hiding spot. his face was tired, pink, and tear stained, though most of the salty fluid was thoroughly soaked into the tank top stretched across your chest that he used to cry into. you don’t complain about the less than comfortable way it sticks to your skin out of concern that it would only manage to further upset him.

“i’m sorry…” rafe’s voice was quiet and broken as he spoke, the strength of his sobs evident from the damage it left on his voice. 

“don’t be. you have nothing to be sorry for.” your head shakes at him in refusal. nimble fingers graze over his face gently as you wipe away the stray tears that continued to fall. 

“i didn’t mean to come over so late.” the pink of his tongue pokes out to moisten his chapped lips before it retreats. “i didn’t know what to do. i–i just really needed you, y/n.”

“i know, baby, i promise it's okay.” you look down at him with soft eyes, one that you pray display deep affection for the man and not the irritation you felt inching closer to the front. “you can come to me whenever; i always have time for you.”

it wasn’t a lie, exactly. if rafe wanted to see you then he would do it, whether you were busy or not. you had no free time, practically your entire life outside of school was dedicated to your relationship. going to a college on the mainland was completely out of the question, simply because rafe would never let it happen–he already hated the fact that you lived fifteen minutes away. you couldn’t count how many times he’d begged you to live in tannyhill with him, nor could you count how many times you’d said no. living four hours away in a different city where he couldn’t keep a constant eye on you, where you would be around thousands of guys, would never happen–in this lifetime or the next.

you had to go to a university nearby to take classes, one that was close enough to home that so wouldn’t have to leave. you rarely hung out with your friends alone because it offended your boyfriend if you spent too much time with them. ‘are they more important than i am?’ is what he would ask through gritted teeth whenever you made plans with them more than twice a week. 

that’s how much rafe controlled every aspect of your life.

the last time you tried to free yourself of it, rafe promised to kill you. so you’ve learned to accept it for your own safety. even if your entire life revolved around your boyfriend, you’d rather that than having it be taken from you.

“do you want to talk about what happened?” you remained cautious in your inquiry, trying your best to be inoffensive as to prevent triggering him to anger or another crying fit. “it’s the second time this week you came over like this, baby…i’m worried.”

“my dad doesn’t think i deserve you, that’s what happened.” rafe chuckled dryly, head shaking as if he couldn’t believe his father would ever say something like that.

“what?” you brows knit together in confusion. “what do you mean?”

“my dad really likes you, y/n. more than he likes me, probably.” he releases another humorless snort. “he called me a, and i quote, ‘worthless leech of a son.’ he said that you were too good for me and that you would never stay with someone like me if you were as smart as he thought you were.”

you blinked at him as you processed the recounting of events. ward’s words towards rafe should never be uttered from a parent to their child, but he wasn't wrong.

rafe stole money from his father and misused their funds very regularly. he would spend it on drugs, alcohol, vehicles, and whatever else he felt like impulsive spending on–all the while he contributed nothing. it was something that you consistently scolded him for, especially when he would spend his father’s hard earned money on expensive gifts for you.

you would never call rafe worthless, but it would be a lie to say he’s not mooching off his father. however, every rich kid in kildare did the same thing to their parents, and his father definitely never worked to stop the behavior while he was younger.

as for you being too smart to stay with someone like rafe–you can’t say that you agree too much.

“don’t listen to him, rafe. no good father should ever say that to their child.” is what you settled on telling him instead.

“i know, what a piece of shit.” he shook his head, eyes rolling in annoyance as he retold the events of the night. you observed the faint appearance of a smirk on his face, the ghost of a smile barely visible but you couldn’t miss the slight twitch of his lips before he spoke again. “so i told him he’s just mad that my girl actually loves me, while my mom was smart enough to leave his ass.”

“rafe!”

“yeah, he didn’t like that very much.” the eyes that had lowered while he spoke flicked back up to watch yours. “he hit me with that big ass ring on and told me to leave, so i did.”

you tilted your head to the side, lip caught between the whiteness of your teeth.

what he shared was not out of the ordinary for the duo. what was out of the ordinary was the state in which rafe was in just a few minutes ago. typically he would just come over and let you dress his wounds before letting you play with his hair is silence, or listening to him call his father everything but a child of god in a rage-fueled rant. 

“and why were you crying? you can’t just show up like that, rafe…you scared me.” the boy in your arms sat silently for a moment before answering.

“its just…you’re in college now. i’ve made so many plans for our future but what if….you’re not gonna leave me, right?” rafe had worry set deep into his expression as he watched you process the question, his head shaking at you. “he was wrong, you’d never do that. you’re smart enough to know better.”

you were sure he heard you gulp after speaking the last sentence. you knew what he was implying, and he was right. ward was correct in saying that you were intelligent enough to know that staying with rafe was a terrible idea, but you were also smart enough to know that rafe would do anything and everything under the sun before letting you go.

“i’m not going anywhere, baby. don’t listen to him, he just wants to get under your skin.” it nearly made you sick to say it, but what choice did you really have? “i love you so, so much, and going to school isn’t going to change that. i’ve had a plan for my life way before i met you, but that doesn’t mean i don’t wanna make you a part of it. my future is my future, but i can’t see it without you there too.”

you meant what you said. you love rafe so, very deeply, and you would do almost anything to make him happy–within reason. rafe didn’t understand reason; rationality was not his forte. any reasonable person would understand that the waters would be tested once a high school relationship became an adult relationship, but rafe was not reasonable. any normal person knows that plans change as life goes on, but rafe was not normal.

maybe you would marry him one day. you might have his kids, be his trophy wife, and live in tannyhill, happily ever after. you knew that even if you went to college on the mainland, you wouldn’t leave rafe. that you would come back to kildare every chance you got and spend every spare second with him until you had to leave again.

even when he gave you hell, you still loved him with every bone in your body. 

rafe didn’t understand that, though, and that’s what led to your attempt at breaking it off with him. he degraded your lifelong goal, telling you that your relationship was more important that ‘some stupid degree’ could ever be. you supported him through everything, even when you thought it was the most idiotic thing someone could do, so his total disregard for something that you deeply cared for hurt you. 

the only reason rafe even let you go to school was because he’s terrified of losing you. not only physically, but emotionally. sure, he could threaten your life to make you stay and you’d listen out of fear. what he knew, however, is that he would lose you if he took your dream away from you. his leash was tight, but it was long enough to keep you satisfied.

rafe nodded at you in approval, seemingly satisfied enough with your answer to leave it alone.

he never wanted you to go to college in the first place. it was the only thing that you put your foot down on, but if it were up to him, the two of you would be getting married by spring.

he thought it was stupid–why do you need a degree or a job? why work when rafe was there to provide for you once he took over his dad’s company? he fought you long and hard about it for months, but you wouldn’t budge. you needed a safety net–you couldn’t let him take the most important thing in life taken away from you; knowledge. 

for you, knowledge was power. it was the closest thing you had to freedom. you knew that if you had a degree, it would be a safeguard in case things with rafe ever went south. deep down your boyfriend knew that, which is probably why he was so against it in the first place.

rafe knew his father was right, which is why he was in such a severe state of distress. he would never admit to that, however,

“are you just saying that because you’re scared?” your breath hitched at the sudden question and you were sure that you’d been caught.

“no! i mean it, seriously-”

“you’re smart to be scared, honestly.” he chuckled at you darkly, eyes glinting in the dim light of your bedroom. “i couldn’t live without you in my life, i love you too much. just thinking about you ever trying to leave me makes me so–so…sick. i need you more than anything. i would probably have to kill myself if you were gone, because i don’t want to live a life without you in it.”

you remained stoic. 

“and i couldn’t see you with anyone that isn’t me.” he stared at you for a heavy moment after saying it. the two of you both knew what he was hinting at, a look of understanding shared amongst the silence that overtook the room.

“rafe, my love…i don’t think that’s healthy.” the words left you in a soft, inoffensive tone. setting off the unstable man was the last thing you wanted to do. “you shouldn’t say things like that, its not funny..”

he shrugged at you, pushing your arms away from him and sitting upright. your eyes fluttered shut as he pressed his soft lips against yours, body melting into him instinctively. it only lasted for a few seconds before he pulled away abruptly, the feeling of his soft breath mixing with yours leaving you confused. 

the moment doesn’t stay on your mind any longer when he leans back in, lips meeting yours in a fervor. your skin feels flushed, face warm as the tingling feeling sets in from his skin on yours. rafe brought his hand up from its resting place on your thigh and attempts to wrap it around your neck like he usually does, but you pull it away haphazardly, hardly paying it any attention as you descend deeper into the kiss.

your own fingers reach up to play with his hair, a set of manicured nails gently scraping against the nape of his neck. you use it to pull him closer, the sound of lips smacking together filling the otherwise silent room along with your minorly labored breathing.

a warm, calloused hand slowly crawled up your side and landed on your throat once again, each finger slowly working to wrap around your neck in a firm grip. it was much tighter this time, and its grip strengthening faster than you could adjust. you reach up once more to pull it away, but he doesn’t let up.

“stop,” you pull away from him mid-kiss, your hand covering the pale one tightly wound around your neck. he doesn’t flinch at the sound of your demand, eyes low as he observes your increasingly frantic movements.

“what?” he asked.

rafe’s face was expressionless, the slight scrunch in his nose being the only giveaway of his sudden rise to anger. it was the silent rage that scared you, why you so carefully chose your words when speaking to him–because it would lead to moments like this. you weren’t even sure what you said to trigger him, but your rapidly decreasing airflow wouldn’t allow for you to think about it in depth.

“rafe, stop.” you repeat yourself. another hand reaches up to fight against his, nails scratching at the skin as they try to pull him off. the feeling had long passed being uncomfortable, and was encroaching on unbearable. “what’re you doing?” 

“what's wrong, baby…can’t breathe?” your boyfriend’s eyes furrowed with a look of faux concern, but you felt him stop holding back. he allowed the full weight of his strength onto you, biceps flexing as the tips of his fingers dug into the soft flesh of your throat. “huh?”

unable to answer verbally, you hummed quietly as you desperately tugged at him. despite your incessant squirming, that doesn’t deter him from returning his lips to yours. the kiss was sloppy, you were too focused on fighting for what little breath you had to return it fully, but rafe didn’t seem to care.  

he suckled at your bottom lip before nipping it with the sharpness of his teeth. he laved his tongue against yours, all but fucking your mouth the wet muscle. the sound of his soft, dark laughter reached your ears after he heard you whine against him. you were beginning to become lightheaded the longer rafe’s hand compressed your trachea mercilessly. 

he was allowing just enough room for you to not pass out from lack of air, but the finger against your jugular veins was preventing oxygen from reaching your brain.

leaving you with a few sporadic, wet pecks, he pulled away only slightly to observe your less than lively state. his lips were glistening with moisture, and you could feel spit dribbling down your own chin from your inability to swallow the saliva that had been gathering in your mouth. the blond’s face went stoic again and pulled you back to him, lips just barely brushing against yours.

“you see how i just had your life in my hands? how scared you felt knowing that i could’ve just crushed your throat if i wanted to?” the grip over your neck had finally loosened and you did your best to not pant against his face as your breathing steadied itself. 

you remained silent but rafe watched you expectantly, clearly awaiting an actual response and not the stupid, wide-eyed expression you carried. you nodded at him weakly, stray tears sliding down your face as you blinked your eyes clear of them.

“i’m not joking.” he whispered against your parted lips, eyes low and jaw clenching for just a second before speaking again. “i will fuck you up, and i mean that.”

[cleoluvrr]

the island program | r.cameron

[warnings] dark!gray!rafe cameron x addict!reader, billionaire!rafe, obsessive rafe, pogue!reader, sober!rafe, rafe has a private island, rafe and reader with established relationship, kidnapping, descriptions of s ubstance a buse & withdrawal, praise kink, dom/sub dynamic, mental health themes, stockholm syndrome, rafe controls everything, spanking, DUBCON

a/n: I really wanted to write Rafe taking you to his private island :)

divider credit: @/h-aewo

In which the cure for your cravings is a softer life, a secluded island, and Rafe’s personal brand of discipline.

word count: 5.9k

rafe cameron masterlist

Rafe hadn’t heard from you in three weeks. He completed his important meetings, signed million-dollar contracts, and immediately tried to get in contact with you. You were always on his mind even though he was never on yours. He’d texted you about fifty times. No reply.

He’d gotten you that expensive phone so you could call if you needed help but you’d never used it when it was an actual emergency. You didn’t call him when you needed to be bailed out. You didn’t call him when you needed a ride from the bar. So stubborn. You’d walk the eight miles back to your motel room in heels. He was starting to believe you were doing this to spite him. 

You did call him, however, when you needed money for drugs. Rafe went in circles with you. You’d shun him when he didn’t give in. When he offered you shelter and let you get high within the safety of his expensive condo, you stole from him. 

It wasn’t always like this. At one point, you actually wanted help. That’s how you and Rafe met. A narcotics anonymous meeting in a church basement that smelled like mildew and cigarettes. It took him two years to actually get clean and that was thanks to the meetings, his sponsors, and his determination to finally fulfill his father’s wishes for his future. He relapsed about three times but now he had been clean for an entire year.

He thrived now. Without the influence of mind-altering substances, he could actually make good business deals. He could make a real future for himself. He grew up lucky but he wouldn’t waste that privilege any longer. He had crawled out of the hole and hoped you would follow behind him. 

Except you didn’t grow up as lucky as Rafe. He thought he was good for you. He recognized the sadness in your eyes. He knew what it felt like when the world was against you. Rafe often took what he wanted but he took his time with you. You needed a sponsor but sponsoring someone required a lot of trust. If you were any other girl, he would’ve devoured you whole. Your soft skin. Big, beautiful, tired eyes. Plump and raspberry-colored lips. Long curls that defied gravity, never tamed by a hair tie. Your uniform usually consisted of a pair of jean shorts and a worn hoodie that swallowed your frame. 

The first time he actually talked to you was outside of the Marlin Mart, after filling up his truck with gas. He wandered into the store for soda and a pack of gum but walked into a chaotic scene. The gas station owner had you by your wrist, shouting curses at you, while you tried to pull away from him, “Hey, hey, hey,” Rafe intervened quickly, “Let her go, man!”

“She’s a thief!” You twisted in his grip, eyes wild, defiant, like a cornered animal ready to bite. “Let me see what's in your pockets!” 

“I don’t have anything, old perv! Let me go!” You shouted back. 

“Let her go,” Rafe said again, placing a strong hand on the man’s chest, commanding, pushing him back, “Calm down, I’m paying for her.”

The man argued, of course, but Rafe talked him off the ledge. When Rafe turned back to you, he gave you a warning look. C’mon, I’m helping you not get arrested, he wanted to say. You gave in a moment later. You emptied your pockets. A bag of skittles, potato chips, and a can of Modelo. Rafe took in a breath, taking the items in his hands, and walked over to the gas station counter. 

You spoke to him the first time when Rafe found you outside, leaning against a tall ice box, “You didn’t have to do that.” 

Rafe gave you your items, wondering you were hungry and this was your sad excuse for a meal, “I’m Rafe, I’ve seen you at a few meetings.” 

You didn’t give away whether you really recognized him or not. It didn’t matter, Rafe had already memorized the details of your face. You could brush him off but he’d find a way to talk to you again. He wanted to know you. 

“Hmm,” Was all you said. 

“If you want a real meal, I could take you to the Wreck. We could talk about the program, and you know, recovery.”

“I don’t put out for gas station food and burgers,” When you rolled your eyes, sticking your hands in your jacket pockets, Rafe’s lips pressed into a thin line. 

“I’m not – not trying to be shady. It’s just been awhile since I’ve met someone under the age of thirty who’s in recovery. Just trying to be nice. It’s on me, you don’t have to give me anything in return.”

You used to look at Rafe like he was an alien. Like no one from his side of the island had ever spoken a kind word to you. You didn’t trust him. Rafe wasn’t sure if you knew how to trust anyone. Later, the two of you talked over bowls of hot gumbo. Well, Rafe did most of the talking. He talked about how hard it’s been maintaining his sobriety, how much he’s grateful for the sponsor that practically saved his life, and how much more control he feels over his life. 

Rafe always like control. It just took him so long to realize how much chaos all of the alcohol and blow were bringing to his life. He saw something spark in your eyes, a glimmer of something real, but it went away quickly. 

At the end of the lunch, you leaned across the table, a wicked smile on your lips, “I bet you know where the Kooks like to party. I’ve never tried any expensive shit. Maybe we could get fucked up tonight.” 

You hadn’t been listening. Not really. But he understood why. He would help you get to the other side of your problems. You were too beautiful to leave to your own demons. Rafe could save you. 

He should’ve known that you’d disable your location services. It slowed him down but Rafe had prepared for this. He had informats. Other druggies that would keep eyes on you and snitch on the dealers who sold to you. Sheriff deputies that gave him a call whenever you got booked into the county jail. 

He tracked you down to a motel, someone had seen you enter a room with some lowlife guy last night. They were lucky to have disappeared before Rafe arrived. Rafe couldn’t even count on two hands how many sleazy guys had to injure to the point of hospilization because he found them on top of you while you were out of it or because they had sold you something. 

Rafe knew you were starting to hate him. He could take the hate. As long as you were alive. 

Surprisingly, you weren’t passed out when he found you. You opened the door when he knocked. He could smell that you were newly showered, your hair freshly washed, but Rafe quickly spotted the remnants of last nights “fun” sitting on the nightstand. You were wrapped in a robe, a mascara wand in your hand, your makeup half done. 

“Who paid for the room? I know it wasn’t you.”

An eye roll, of course, “I have more sugar daddies than you, Rafe.”

“I’m not–” He stopped himself from arguing, “What are you getting ready for?”

“None of your business,” You turned away, marching towards the bathroom, “You worry so much.”

Rafe followed, standing in the doorway. He watched the way your hands trembled as you tried to paint your eyelashes. The tremors were new. Things were getting bad. How were things getting worse when his leash had tightened so much?

“Y/N,” Rafe said, tired, exhausted, “I want to help you.”

“And I never asked for your fucking help,” You said although Rafe knew you didn’t mean it, “I’m going away for a while. Gonna get out of your hair.”

His fingers tightened around the wooden trim of the door frame, “With who?”

“Always with the questions,” Even now, you were beautiful. Even with bloodshot eyes and track marks on your skin, “You can’t stop me.”

“I can. I have before. I’ll tie you down to the bed and stop you from hurting yourself.”

“What if I told you I was going to get help?” You looked at him and Rafe knew you were lying. All you did was lie, “My friend knows about this new treatment program. I’ve done every program this entire state has to offer. She’s gonna drive me there.”

“And you need mascara for rehab?”

“Anyways, it’s in Florida. Gonna make it a little road trip. You should be happy for me. I’m finally listening to you.”

“If you go, you’ll probably get yourself killed in a few weeks.”

“Fuck you, Rafe.” The mascara hit the sink with a clatter. You turned, fists flying at his chest. He let you. When the hits got harder, more frantic, he caught your wrists, then your waist. You weighed less than the last time this happened. You always forgot to eat when you were using.

He sat you on the edge of the bed, pinning your thighs when you tried to kick. It was nothing. Rafe was all muscle, all control. You were all bones and smoke.

“Ugh,” you groaned, still struggling, “What do you want, huh? I can do this on my own.”

“You can’t,” Rafe said, feeling like a broken record, “Come home with me. I’ll take care of you.” 

Rafe felt some of the tension in your body melt away, your shoulders sagged, and you let out a breath. You were considering it, he thought. Maybe you’d finally grown exhausted too. He loosened his grip and fixed his blue eyes on yours, “Hey, I’m serious,” He continued, “You need sleep and an actual meal. I promise there will be no hospitals, no doctors, just you and me.”

“Rafe,” You whispered weakly. He saw a glimmer of that innocent side he knew was inside of you. A little girl begging to be taken care of and loved, “I see the way you look at me…”

“What way do I look at you?” Rafe noticed it though he didn’t give it away in his eyes. Your legs parted slightly, your head tilted to the side as you looked him over. Your eyes became playful. 

“Like you think I’m pretty …. even like this.”

“I do,” Rafe said, his voice deep and sure, “I think you’re beautiful, Y/N.” 

“You can have me. You can have it.”

“Y/N-“

“I know you want to. I’d play nice. I know you wouldn’t hurt me.”

You smiled. Rafe’s heart was breaking in his chest. 

“And you’d want something in return,” Rafe spoke knowingly. You parted your lips to argue but Rafe continued. He stood tall, towering over your figure, “You think I couldn’t have already taken that from you if that’s all I wanted? It wouldn’t be hard even if you didn’t play nice. You’re weak. You’re fucked up every time I see you. Sad thing is, you’d probably let me do it over and over again if that meant you could score.” 

His voice hardened. The words landed like punches. And still, you didn’t look away.

“Stop,” That was all you managed. 

“That’s not all I want, Y/N. I want all of you. I want you safe. Clean. Sober. I want you to fucking listen to me not because you’re looking for your next fix. I want you to listen because I’m the one who gives a shit. Who’s going to give you everything you need. Guidance. Structure. Love. All of it.” 

You shook your head. You probably stopped listening in the middle of his rambling, “I don’t deserve that.”

“I’ll tell you what you deserve,” Rafe let out a breath. His rough hands nervously roamed over his shirt, buzzed hair, “Get your shit together. You’re not going to fucking Florida. If you don’t want me to have your friend arrested for possession then you’ll pack your shit and get in my truck.” 

You stood, shoulders squared like you wanted to fight, but you were shaking again. You’d burned through whatever energy you have left. You were hollow. Empty. Rafe could see it.

“You want to own me,” you spat, but the words lacked conviction. 

“I already have you, angel. That’s what I can’t get you to understand.”

That night, Rafe gave you another chance. Took you home. Let you put yourself together. Fed you until you were sick. It was routine. You relaxed, laughed a little, told him scraps of what you'd been through. You always smiled through the shame. You fell asleep against his chest during some movie neither of you were watching. He carried you upstairs. You probably hadn’t slept in three days.

The banging woke him up just after dawn. You were gone.

He moved downstairs, groggy and shirtless, drawstring pants hanging low on his hips. The banging was frantic. He opened the kitchen drawer and took out the syringe Barry gave him. He’d practiced. He was ready.

Rafe held the full syringe at his side as he approached the front door. There you were, wild and furious. “You locked me in? Open the door, Rafe! I’m serious, I can’t do this. Please,” Your eyes wandered down to his right hand, hanging by his side, “What’s that?”

Rafe slowly closed the distance between you. The rest had given you some of your strength back. Even as you scratched at his arms, Rafe kept you pinned to the door, “Rafe! Don’t! Please!” You screamed, tears in your eyes. 

He shushed you as the needle finally pricked the side of your neck. Your eyes were wide and sad, “It’s okay, baby. I got you,” Your eyelids started to droop and you pushed at him weakly. Rafe caught you when your legs finally gave out, “It’s okay, just sleep. I’m gonna take care of you.”

You sat up too quickly. You were going to be sick. Your seatbelt kept you in place. You squeezed at the soft, italian-leather of your seat. You tried to get your bearings. Your lips parted. You thought you were talking but your voice came out in a moan. 

You sat back, your body was weak, your head lolled to the side. A window. Clouds. A blue ocean. Your eyes fluttered until they were wide open, “Easy,” A familiar voice said. 

“What did you do?” Your voice cracked. You tugged at your seat but your fine motor skills were practically useless. You were so foggy. Not in the way you usually felt when you were coming down or withdrawing. That needle. He’d knocked you out. On purpose. “What the fuck did you do?”  

He was calm. Calmer than he’d ever been. 

“It was the only way. You were hysterical yesterday. And you haven’t been in your right mind for a long time,” You shook your head, “I made a decision. And you’re gonna hate me for awhile. But this is gonna be good for you. For us, too.”

You’d really done it this time. This was your fault. Why did you have to show the most unhinged side of yourself to him?

You were so angry at him. If you were honest with yourself, it wasn’t because you were sitting on his private jet, going to a foreign place. It wasn’t even because you actually hated him. It was because you knew that Rafe wasn’t going to let your skin touch another heroin needle, let your lips taste another sip of alcohol, or let you smoke another joint to mellow your withdrawal symptoms. 

Fuck, you thought. Fuck. Fuck. 

Despite the warnings from his business partners about the futility of the tiny island of Isla Brisas, five hundred miles from the Ecuadorian coast, Rafe had proved them all wrong. There was no long-lost treasure, but his plan had not led to Cameron Development's bankruptcy as they had predicted. Not only had his men found gold, but there was a good chance that the parts of the island that had yet to be explored would yield similar findings. 

His secret project. No one would ever disturb the two of you. No one would even be looking for you, he knew that. But he wanted you to feel like it was only the two of you in this world. No one on the island would consider helping you. The closest piece of civilization was thirty miles away on the Galapagos islands. 

The villa was tucked between a grove of palm trees. The backyard stretched into the soft slope of a green hillside. The front of the house had a winding, stone path that led to an infinity pool before a five-minute walk shaded by tropical trees took you to a private beach. White sand sparkled underneath the sun, kissed by turquoise waves.. 

There were no fences. No barbed wire. No obvious guards. But inside there were rooms with locks that clicked shut when he pleased. Windows that let in the sun during the day but provided blackout privacy at night. Staff that were local. Silent. Loyal. Bought. 

The first two weeks on the island happened in a blur. The bed was massive, the sheets always cool, even though your skin was often on fire. If you weren’t sleeping for hours at a time then you weren’t sleeping at all. You threw up everyday. Rafe was usually there, holding your hair, rubbing circles on your back. You begged him everyday to stop letting you suffer, to help you feel better. 

“I am making you better,” He’d always say. The only drugs he gave you helped your sleep and nausea, they didn’t get you high, and a week into the nightmare, he starting giving you something for the depression and anxiety. The depression was probably the worst symptom. 

He carried you from the bed, to the bathroom, and to the bathtub. He brushed your teeth, detangled your hair, and changed your clothes. You fought him in the ways that you could. It didn’t matter. Rafe did what he wanted. You kept trying to hate him.

One morning, you finally had the strength to pick yourself off the bed. You looked down at your hands and legs. Some of the bruising on your inner arms had started to fade, some had scarred. You could already tell there was more meat on your bones. Your stomach didn’t ache with hunger. You smoothed your hand down over your dress. The yellow night gown was light-weight, smooth and your fingers traced over the lacy floral designs that decorated it. It barely reached the middle of your thigh. And you were sure you’d never worn anything like this. You’d never worn anything this nice. Nothing so…delicate. 

You wobbled towards the master bathroom. It was so big that even your steps seemed to echo. You gasped when you saw your appearance. Tentatively, you touched the skin of your face, unsure that it was really yours. You looked brighter, your eyes were no longer sunken in, the darkness under your eyes had smoothed out. 

You looked away and wandered further into the bathroom. You took note of a modern soaking tub and a spacious shower with a rainfall shower head. You found the walk-in closet next, a heavy silence pressing against you. You were walking into someone else’s life, you were sure of that. It was neatly organized, large, and one side, from floor to ceiling, hung all of Rafe’s polished clothing.

On the other side was a stark contrast. Your fingers grazed over the soft fabric of a dress that was hanging at eye level. Silk, just like the one you were wearing, except this one would reach down past your knees. Soft hues of pink blush, pale golds, baby blues, and creamy whites filled the racks. More dresses. Skirts. Delicate. Frilly, even. The only pants you found were shorts and those were all silk as well. Pastel ribbons and lace. 

Your fists squeezed at your side. Did he expect you to feel happy? This wasn’t yours. This was the wardrobe of some island princess. Who did he think you were? You closed your eyes tight. God, you just wanted to get high. This would all be easier if you didn’t have to feel. You could handle this. You could pretend to be what he wanted if he just let you get high. 

You found Rafe on the balcony connected to the bedroom. Looking through the glass sliding door, you saw him leaning against the balcony’s railing, a phone pressed to his ear. The view behind him was dazzling. The sand was so white it was blinding. He wore board shorts and a cream-colored unbuttoned shirt. The conversation seemed tense. 

This was your chance. You weren’t sure if you wanted to step forward or to run. You took a step back but just as you did, his head turned. He said something into the phone that you couldn’t hear. You turned quickly, too fast, you felt a headache coming on. You hurried to the bedroom door anyways, padding over a soft carpet, before you tried to yank at the large, mahogany doors. They didn’t budge. Of course. 

You heard the glass doors slide open and the sound of crashing waves flooded your ears. 

“You’re out of bed,” He said. You turned, pressing your back against the door, and mentally cursed. Rafe looked different too. He looked happy, hopeful, “Look at you… you look so good–”

“Where is this place?”

“Far, far away.”

You pressed a hand to you forehead, “God, I feel like shit.”

“I know,” Rafe spoke, eyes understanding, “It’s gonna be a process. But you - you look better than you have in so long.”

“I don’t–”

“You really do,” Rafe took a step forward. He was so handsome. Sometimes you forgot. He was tall, commanding, and he seemed to be coming into his own even more as his business became more successful. You hadn’t even seen the rest of the house but you never understood until now how successful he’d become. It made your stomach twist,  “I love you like this.”

You shook your head defiantly, “At the detox clinic, they give you stuff to help with the cravings. Helps with the withdrawal. It’s too painful without. Just a small amount would help wean me off.”

“You’re not going to find a bottle of wine in this house. No pills. No stash under the sink. Best I can do is an ibuprofen.”

Your chest heaved and your eyes started to burn, “That’s not enough. You can’t just lock me up and expect me to raw dog my way through withdrawal.”

His expression didn’t change, even as your tears started to fall, “I hate to see you in pain. I’m here to take care of you but I need your cooperation. If you sit down on the bed, I’ll give you some pain medication.”

“I don’t want your fucking medicine!” Rafe’s jaw clenched, “Take me home!”

In a matter of seconds, he had you by your wrists, and was hauling you over to the bed, “You make this easier for yourself by listening. I’m done playing by your rules. I’m in control now. Do you hear me?” Rafe growled, pinning your arms above your head. His knees parted your legs and he pressed his weight onto you, “You are going to be obedient.”

“You can’t do this,” You whined, struggling beneath him, “You can’t fucking do this!”

“I can!” His deep voice rumbled across your skin, and for the first time, you were actually scared of him, “I’ve decided I’m not going to let you kill yourself. I’ve decided you’re going to live and this is the life I’m giving you. You’re going to do what I say, when I say it. You’re going to eat three meals a day, exercise, take your fucking vitamins, breathe fresh air, and you’re going to act like you’re happy until it starts to feel real.”

“Fine, okay – just let go – you’re hurting me–”

He scoffed. “Hurting you? After what you’ve done to yourself? After what you’ve let happen to you? I’m the one hurting you?”

And then his mouth was on yours. Crushing. Possessive. Final.

It felt like love. Even though all his weight was on top of you and he hadn’t asked for your permission. It felt like love because of how gentle and hot his kisses were against your lips, against your neck, and against your jaw. He squeezed you tightly but not to bruise. Not because he was getting off on your pain. 

It was a warm embrace. You tried to run from it. It was so overwhelming that he fit against you like a matching puzzle piece. Strong hips rocked against yours and it made you dizzy. It was perfect. Just what you needed. Your headache was gone, all you could feel was him, hard and heavy against you. 

He pushed the top of your nightgown to the side, took your nipples into his mouth, and sucked until your back was arching. “Please don’t,” You begged but the more you talked, the less you were able to hear yourself, “Rafe, I can’t.”

He sounded like an animal, a deep rumbling in this throat, vibrated against your skin. Like you’d denied him so long of his primal instincts. This was your fault. 

“So fucking beautiful,” It was out of your control. He’d decided that you were ready. He got you there easily. Rocking against your hips, grinding into you, making your juices soak through your lacy yellow panties. You were so ready that when he finally pushed inside of you, he met no resistance at all, “All mine.”

Your head tilted back just as a strong hand wrapped around your throat. You screamed but he didn’t stop. He went faster, thrusted deeper, “Look at you,” He spoke in a low rasp, “You’re gonna come already, aren’t you?”

You gritted your teeth. It was painful. You tried to push the pleasure away. He noticed and became relentless. You screamed again, “Fucking feel it,” he commanded, “Fuck, you’re fucking perfect. Made for me. You can take it. Fucking take it.”

Clenching around him, your body betrayed your mind. Reisting had made it worse. You convulsed around him and he tightened his grip around your throat. You expected a break, some sort of relief, when Rafe finally pulled out of you. Your muscles were still twitching, squeezing, your walls ached. You felt empty. 

He flipped your body easily. Your fingers clenched the sheets as he pulled your underwear down to your ankles. A series of spanks against your bare ass made you yelp but you kept still. He pressed his weight down on you again, sliding into your welcoming hole from behind. At this angle, he could go even deeper. He kissed above your ear, “Good girl,” Your lips formed a permanent “o”, “Stay like that. My good girl.”

You came again. This time because of the voice in your ear. It put you in a daze. You didn't know if you wanted to cry or to beg him to stop, but the words didn’t come. Only the sound of his praise, "Good girl," "You're perfect", each word tightening its hold on you, sinking deeper inside. Finally he softly said an, “I love you so much”. You hadn’t ever felt anything like this. Consumed and cared for. Used and loved. It was everything, all at once. 

Rafe didn’t sugar-coat his intentions. He was training you. You made the mistake of showing him that he could give you pleasure. That your mind melted when he was fucking you. He could make you chase after the orgasms. It was the only high he provided you. 

You ate all three meals provided to you and he’d bury his face between your legs on top of the kitchen table. You went out to the pool and swam with him instead of throwing vases, he fucked you hard against a lounge chair. You went a whole week without asking him for drugs and he’d fingered you until you lost your voice. You wore a bow in your hair, a pink mini dress he picked out, and sat in his lap while he worked in his office and you came for the first time with his finger in your ass. 

You’d replaced one addiction with another. You still thought about your old life almost every hour of every day but the pleasure took the edge off. 

The first time you’d seen another person other than a cleaning lady was when Barry, Rafe’s business partner, came to visit. He warned you to be on your best behavior. You saw it as a chance to be on Rafe’s good side for a long time. Maybe that meant you would be able to get away with more. Maybe that meant he’d do that thing again where he tied you down to the bed, put a vibrator on your clit, and made you cum over and over. 

They were out together, surveying whatever Rafe’s secret project was. He still kept all his business under wraps. All you knew was that there was gold involved. And you’d only heard that when you were eavesdropping on one of his calls. 

When they returned at dinnertime, you had dinner and a dessert ready. Grilled mahi-mahi and sweet potatoes for the entree and chocolate cake for dessert. You started early, knowing you might burn your first attempt. Luckily, you perfected the recipe on the second attempt. 

You chose a floral, white dress, one that was low-cut and showed off your ever developing breasts. You were slightly insecure about them but Rafe complimented your blossoming figure consisting. 

Rafe eyed you cautiously but Barry was more than impressed. You hugged Barry to greet him and you felt the man’s hands linger on your waist for a moment too long. 

You made conversation easily. Your tone was light, almost fake, but this was how Rafe wanted you. You smiled until it felt real. Barry thought all of his jokes were funny. You laughed politely. 

You served them both chocolate cake, leaning over each of them as you scooped a slice on to each of their plates. Rafe eyed you again, “After dessert, should we all get in the pool?” You asked, your eyes flirty and on Barry. He smiled, gold-tooth flashing. 

“That sounds–”

Rafe interrupted him, “You want a beer, Barry?”

Your heart pounded. Your lips parted, “A beer?”

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Barry responded, unaware of the tension between you and Rafe.

“Angel, could you get two beers for me and Barry from the fridge in the pantry? I had some flown in the other day,” You hid your hands behind your back, to hide how bad they’d started shaking. 

You hadn’t noticed any beers. Then again, you hadn’t looked in that fridge in awhile. What was he doing? Without another word, you turned on your heels and made your way to the pantry. To your surprise, and likely, your downfall, there was a pack of beers in the fridge. 

Shaking you picked up two. Just two. You stared down at them, cold, condensation dripping down the glasses. Fuck. You hadn’t chosen this. Rafe chose this. It was just beer. It wasn’t a hard drug. He didn’t have the right to do this. He was testing you. 

It took everything in you to walk back to the table and set them in front of each of the men, “Thanks, sweet thing.”

Still trembling, you sat back down in your seat. You were sweating. You watched both of them. Rafe’s strong hands twisted open his bottle. You sat eerily still as the men enjoyed their dessert and the alcohol. The conversation continued without you. 

You tuned back in when you heard Rafe say, “Why don’t you head out there, Barry, and we’ll join you in a second.”

Barry’s eyes flicked between you and Rafe, suspicious, before he said, “Sure.”

When the coast was clear, Rafe asked, “What are you trying to do?”

“What?” You asked though your attention was fixed on his glass. 

“You’re trying to get something,” Rafe said. Of course you were. All addicts do is use other people to get what they want. 

You didn’t move your eyes from the glass. 

“Hey, look at me,” And you did. It had become second nature. Do as your told, “You’re strong. You’ve been doing so good.”

“I’m not,” You disagreed.

Rafe tilted his head back, taking a sip, “You’re my good girl, right?”

“Yes,” You said quickly, “I’m trying. Maybe if I could just have a sip–”

“I know what you really want, Y/N, and you know I can’t give you that,” Rafe continued, voice steady, “You know what I can give you though.”

You nodded, “Okay,” You rubbed your hands nervously over your dress. Your palms were sweaty, “Can I have your cock, please? Can you make me cum?”

“Stand up, lift up your dress and bend over the table,” You did so quickly. You even made sure to pull down your panties. You were already wet. He didn’t need to warm you up. Sometimes you liked it better when he skipped the foreplay and went straight for what he wanted. You liked it. You had a purpose. You had love. 

He didn’t move immediately. He watched you. He took his time, finished his beer. 

“All this was because you wanted a reward, huh?”

“Yes, Rafe.”

His chair scraped against the marble floor as he stood. God, you were soaked. If he could just touch you –“You trying to manipulate me now? Use my friend to get what you want?”

“N-No–”

He spanked you so hard you screamed, one of your legs kicking up as you tried to fight through the pain, “Y-Yes, I-I’m sorry!”

“I know when you’re lying. I’ve always fucking known. You’re bad at it.”

“I’m sorry,” Another spank. You winced. 

“You’re not gonna have a sip of beer. You’re not gonna cum either, okay?”

“Rafe, please, I’ll be–” Five hard spanks. 

“Shut up, angel,” Five more spanks, “This is what this has all been about. Discipline. Not giving into temptation. You’re so close to getting it.”

Shame. You used to run from it. You were so ashamed of your life and your decisions that you wanted to feel nothing. With Rafe, you felt everything. Shame. Depression. Happiness. Pleasure. All of it. He didn’t let you run from it. 

He kept going until you were sobbing and your thighs were glistening with the need that had dripped down from your aching center. 

When he was done, he was out of breath. You were sorry. So sorry. He was right. You just needed more discipline, “Thank you,” You whispered, pulling your body from the table. Your body had grown stronger but you were still so much weaker than him. Part of you liked that, “Thank you, Rafe.”

You got down to you knees, “For what, angel?”

“For caring,” Your voice was so weak. You hugged his leg, rested your head against his knee, “Thank you for caring.”

He bent down, brushing a hand through your hair before trailing his fingers gently along your cheek. You leaned into his touch instinctively, eyes fluttering closed.

“I want you to go upstairs,” he murmured, “put on your swimsuit—the one-piece with the sunflowers. Then grab one of my belts and lay it on the bed and come back down.” 

“I’m going to spank you again tonight,” he continued, almost reverent. “And I want you to thank me again. Just like this. Just as perfect as you are right now.”

Your body obeyed before your mind could catch up. Trembling legs brought you up the stairs. You’d never felt like this before. You wanted Rafe to be proud of you.

Reblogs w/ your thoughts are the best way to support me! Please message me with drabble ideas for this au if you have any :)

[cleoluvrr]

black magnolias and high school sweethearts are my babies even though i haven’t posted in forever

[cleoluvrr]

why do you hate obx4 so much? i do too so im always curious to hear other peoples reasons lol. to me, it was a character assassination of nearly every single character.

don’t even get me started.

the show has always had a lot of plot holes but the cast chemistry was good, the writing was decent, and the storylines were somewhat realistic. after season 3 EVERYTHING went downhill and literally the only good thing to come out of that season was buzzcut rafe and cleo being main cast.

they already lost me a little mid-season two with the whole treasure hunting thing but i let it slide because they made it kind of realistic. but the blackbeard plotline was my final straw like…what are we even doing here?

the tension between madison and rudy was palpable through the whole season and the acting was actually unbearable to watch. sarah being pregnant and keeping it even though she’s literally a 19 year old high school dropout with no income and her boyfriend is a BUM.

what pissed me off the most was pope risking his future for jj’s ungrateful ass just for him to fucking DIE!!! pope commuted multiple felonies and killed someone in a foreign country and for what?

honestly i could go on forever about jjpate and their mishandling of race in obx because in the real world, pope would not have made it past the first season doing all the shit he was doing…he’s black. ASSAULTING AN OFFICER ??? he cannot do that.

also the lack of queer characters was ridiculous. you’re telling me a group of 6 teens in 2019-2022 are all straight? not even a little bisexual? kiara is literally lesbian coded and jjpope deserved better than they got.

when i tell you the only reason i still watch that show is for rafe and cleo i am not joking.

[cleoluvrr]

GOSH, BABE, YOUR BLOG IS SO SO BEAUTIFUL 🌸🌷

I cannot wait to read the rest of your work, because GOODNESS, you are so talented!

thank you my love 💕 i will upload something new one of these days i just can’t tell you when because i don’t even know LOL

[cleoluvrr]

i’m a big fat liar i’m so sorry

Black magnolia is keeping me going ty queen <3

my sincerest apologies for leaving you guys hanging but i will finally upload this weekend i promise even though my promises mean nothing at this point

[cleoluvrr]

recently you said that you fell out of love with writing dark content which is understandable. I was just wondering, do you still feel comfortable getting asks about Rafe and your different universes with him? Like when authors answer questions about Rafe, but specifically from the perspective of one of their fics or AUs?

yeah of course that’s fine! you can ask me anything :))

i also wanna say i didn’t fall out of love with writing it just started feeling like a job and i also couldn’t stand looking at anything obx for a while because obx4 was so terrible and it made me sad lol

i’m trying my best to get back into my writing groove it’s just really hard lately </3