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sunniepoo · 11 months ago

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》 NO INTERFERENCE — rafe cameron x reader

word count — 7.2k (wtf)

warnings — MDNI; dark!rafe (kinda creepy stealing reader’s stuff), mean!rafe, inexperienced!virgin!reader, pogue!reader, NONCON/DUBCON, smut + mentions of choking, slapping, hair-pulling, loss of virginity + mentions of, mentions of rafe losing his virginity at 13 lmao, mentions of dacryphilia, swearing, lmk if i’m missing something!!

summary — rafe has a thing for his sarah’s best friend, but he has a weird way of showing it…

a/n — inspired by this ask!! thank u for the request bby <3 rafe is like 21 in this and reader is 18. just go w it LOL, ignore any plot holes or mistakes pls i couldn’t bring myself to proofread this, i just wanted to hurry and finish so i could put something out since it’s been a minute!! as per usual pls ignore the name and pics i’m not creative enough lmao love yallllll

FEEDBACK & REBLOGS ALWAYS MAKE MY DAY <3

“Are you sure you don’t have my white bikini bottoms?” Your suitcase was now a hot mess at your knees, clothes and items scattered about haphazardly from your search for your favorite swimsuit, an essential on pool days.

“I’m sure,” Sarah’s words had you sighing loudly, throwing the rest of the clothes you had in your hand on top of the mess that was now your belongings, a nonverbal admittance of defeat.

“Who cares? The red one’s cute too!”

“I guess I left it at home maybe, I just can’t believe I grabbed the top but not the bottoms…weird.” You chalked it up as a fluke on your part, though you couldn’t help but think about how it had become so common to lose things during your stays at Sarah’s…

Still, you opted to shut your suitcase and return your attention back to your best friend.

“Ready to go lay out?” Sarah wore a hopeful grin on her face as she posed the question.

“Of course,” you stood to your feet, eyes falling to your frame in the mirror. You examined the red bikini as you paired the extension of your arms above your head with a loud exhale, stretching your limbs out as if you’d just retired from a long, hard day of work.

And sure, the days were long, but never hard at the Cameron residence. Tannyhill was the epitome of opulence. You envied your friend, who so luckily got to call this dreamy place ‘home’. It puzzled you how a girl so privileged could ever have a desire to live anywhere beyond these walls, in anything less than luxury. But Sarah did.

Because Sarah’s world didn’t spin around money or clothes or material things.

Her friends, the pogues, the most genuine connections she possessed in life are the axis that her world turns around.

Just like you’d taught her the pogue way of life, Sarah roped you into the kook way of living, and you never shied away from the privilege and leisure the association afforded you.

Like now, as you prepared to enjoy her private pool in the backyard, the kind of pool you definitely wouldn’t have access to back on the Cut.

The pair of you made your way outside, each claiming a lounge chair that put you directly in the sun’s path.

Of course, no pool day could truly be complete without drinks and music, so after a while you took advantage of the empty house, deciding to blend up some homemade margaritas while Sarah snuck her brother’s giant speaker from his room.

The two of you reconvened by the pool, where you’d spend the next few hours sipping and sunbathing, talking about anything from school to graduation plans to your mutual friends on the other side of the island.

While her father never approved of the company Sarah kept in the pogues, Ward didn’t have the heart to forbid his oldest daughter from being at home like her brother so adamantly suggested.

She was able to keep her kook roots, and still maintain the best of both worlds.

Almost.

Rafe hated his sister, and he’d never been fond of her best friend either.

You were both three years younger than Rafe, and he’d never seen you as any less of a pest and a nuisance than his sister.

But Rafe could easily remember the turning point, the first time he saw you as anything more than just his little sister’s annoying friend.

Specifically, it was after your 16th birthday, when Rafe was 19.

And it was the first time Rafe saw you, I mean really saw you in a bikini in his backyard, your newly filled out body sprawled across a lounge chair by the pool, laughing and gossiping with his sister.

Of course, he’d seen his sister and her friend by the pool plenty of times through the summer seasons, but he’d never spared them any more than a glance in passing.

This particular day, though, he’d sat on the balcony almost the entire afternoon, pretending to be on the phone or working on his laptop just to have a perfect view of your ass and body as you tanned.

Later on, once you’d moseyed your way back into the house, Rafe did too. He went straight to his bathroom, images and lewd thoughts about his sister’s best friend prominent in his mind as he jerked himself off on the toilet seat.

Ever since that day, he’d fantasized about the girl he’d known for years. He wondered how he ever overlooked you. His mind ran rampant with the new, vulgar thoughts.

But Rafe couldn’t help himself. The older he got, the harder it became to fight the sexual urges that plagued his mind.

He was attractive, always had been.

He started having sex in middle school, and even at the ripe age of 13, Rafe quickly gained a reputation for himself amongst the girls he went to school with. Everyone wanted to be with him, every girl wanted to have a story tell about their night spent with Rafe Cameron, though that’s all it ever was.

By the time he started high school, he’d already had an array of bodies under his belt. Girls threw themselves at him, especially when he started playing football and basketball. He was a hot commodity around Kildare, never shying away from his attractiveness or cockiness.

Most girls were nothing more than a one night stand to the oldest Cameron. Simply a hole to fill, a piece of ass to indulge in for the night, nothing more, nothing less.

And he wasn’t too selective when it came to who he was fucking. If you had a pulse and a clean bill of health, you weren’t excluded from his pool of suitors.

The only line he really ever drew was the long, thick line between pogue and kook.

Rafe never went for pogues. He’d never be caught dead sticking his dick into the trash of the island. That kind could only wish for a chance with someone like Rafe.

His hatred for the inhabitants on the other side of the island was only intensified by his sister’s desire to be like them, to ditch her own lavish upbringing to live like them.

And he’d always hated his sister’s friend just alike, he gave you the same cruel treatment he gave Sarah.

That fact remained even after you started to peak his interest as a teenager.

Rafe made a habit of masking his infatuation with cruelness towards you.

Your sister’s brother was overly rude to you, constantly ridiculing everything from your clothes and hair to makeup, any dig he could manage.

And it was so hard to be around you. Rafe could hardly cage the animal threatening to pounce anytime you walked past. The smell of your perfume was intoxicating, the sound of your voice was like music to his ears.

He wanted you. He knew you were a virgin, at least at one point in the last year or so. He prayed that you still were. He’d spent countless nights with his head tilted, ear pressed to the vent on his floor, drinking in every bit of gossip he could pull from your conversations with his sister. He had to stop himself from being physically sick when he listened for too long, learning too many details of his sister’s busy love life with Topper, which then eventually turned to John B.

But you never had much to contribute to the conversations when they took that kind of turn, only posing questions to your more experienced best friend as you munched away at some snack or scrolled through social media downstairs.

‘What was your first time like?’

‘Does it hurt?’

‘Do you use both hands or just one?”

God, he wanted to be the one to answer your questions, physically.

The innocence and genuine curiosity behind your voice was enough to make Rafe want to storm down the stairs, snatch you up from Sarah’s room and drag you back to his instead, where he could show you the answers you were so interested in.

Rafe wanted to corrupt you. He wanted to strip you of your virginity, show you what you’d been so naively missing out on, touch you in ways you could only dream of, or fantasize about through Sarah’s stories.

But instead, he had to settle for what little contact he could manage, that could also be downplayed as a friendly mistake, or a simple misjudgment.

Like ‘accidental’ brushes against your body or swiping a pair of panties from your suitcase in his sister’s room when you were out by the pool.

God, he fucking loved that pool. It gave you a reason to lounge around the mansion in nothing more than a skimpy bikini for hours on end, and it gave him the opportunity to rummage through your things for a keep sake or two while you were outside.

Like today, when Rafe stopped by the house to grab something, and the sound of music had him padding past the staircase to check on the backyard first. One glance through the open french doors told Rafe you were out there, meaning Sarah had to be with you, and her room had to be empty.

So, the boy made a quick detour on the way to his bedroom.

He crept into Sarah’s room, moving stealthily as if you girls would even be able to hear him walking around in the house over the music and distance.

You always kept your suitcase in the same spot in his sisters closet, Rafe knew that, so that’s what he beelined for when he entered.

Rafe didn’t bother fully unzipping the suitcase, he only shoved a hand through the gap between the zippers at the top, fishing for something, anything. He didn’t really care what he came up with, he just knew he was growing tired of the last piece of memorabilia he’d looted from you, and was in need of a new physical fixation.

It took him a good minute to realize what the ring of fabric was in his hand. A hair tie? No, a scrunchie, he recalled your sweet voice and the way you referred to the accessory. He’d seen you wrap this around your hair many times anytime it started sticking to the sweat at the back of your neck by the pool. He thought about it, and Rafe could recall plenty of times when he’d wished it was his hand gathering all of your hair together instead of that damn scrunchie.

It’d be nice to add to his collection, he thought. His mind pried further, maybe then you’d need a substitute for a ponytail holder, and he could fill in.

Rafe decided the memento would do for now. He shoved the material deep in his pocket before returning your suitcase to Sarah’s closet and leaving the room without a trace.

Downstairs, the pool vibes were nothing short of stellar, only faltering when your favorite song eventually cut off in favor of a sudden silence.

Only the sound of water splashing against the pool walls and the distant screams of kids at play in the neighborhood filled the air before you heard Sarah sit up.

“Shit…” She cursed under her breath.

You lowered your sunglasses, eyes peeking over the shades to find your best friend fumbling with the buttons on the speaker.

“I think it died…” Sarah determined, sighing as if this was her most prominent problem right now.

If a dead speaker and the need for a charger was the biggest inconvenience to Sarah’s life, you were envious.

Speaking of inconveniences, the location of said charger she was begging you to fetch was the biggest one to your life right now.

“Please!” She whined, kicking her feet at the end of the chair, earning a playful eye roll from you. “He’s not even home, just run in there and grab it. It’s probably in the wall or something.”

“Sarah, I don’t wanna-“

“Y/N, how are we gonna vibe without the tunes?” She urged, clasping her hands together in front of her, bottom lip jutting out playfully.

“Whatever,” you laughed as you pushed yourself off the chair and to your feet.

You moved fast as the cement burned the soles of your feet, though you still had your reservations as you made your way back through the double doors into the house.

When you got to Rafe’s room, the familiar scent of his cologne overwhelmed your senses before you even pushed the cracked door open.

You’d only ever really seen the boy’s room through the gap in the door when you passed by, and your curiosity had you venturing far beyond the charger sticking out of the outlet by the door.

Rafe’s room was neat, much tidier than you’d expect from a 21-year-old college dropout. His bed was made, desk area organized with what shoes you assumed somehow didn’t fit in his massive closet stacked up right off to the side.

Your eyes landed on the biggest box right on top, the only one in the stack appearing to be stuffed with something other than shoes as the lid almost didn’t seem to close all the way. You ignored the various things sticking through on the sides, even a familiar white material blurring them out as your eyes honed in on the cheetah print pattern sitting on top of the box.

Your scrunchie.

Your face scrunched up just like the hair tie, morphing into a look of pure confusion as you reclaimed the item.

You almost wanted to pry a little further as you slid the ring of fabric around your wrist, maybe reach for the shoe box or even look in his closet.

But your mind was now littered with thoughts of how your hair tie could’ve ended up in Sarah’s brother’s room.

In Rafe’s room.

How did your item make it into a room you’d never set foot in until now?

Feelings of uneasiness began to bubble up, but your mind forced you to write it off. There had to be a logical explanation for how the hair tie traveled from your suitcase to Rafe’s bedside table.

Maybe Sarah did take it and just forgot, then left it in Rafe’s room when she came to grab the speaker?

In truth, you knew you would’ve seen it around her wrist when you first went outside, but that’s what was easiest for your mind to go with for now, so you made your way to the wall outlet, grabbed the charger and headed back downstairs.

—

Tannyhill was still quiet inside the house as you and Sarah remained outside long after the sun had retreated for the evening.

The blonde girl had switched the neon pool light on when the sun started to fade, and the two of you moved to the porch, starting a small bonfire in the fire pit so you could soak in the Friday night vibes the right way.

And the ambience was nice, so nice, you both ended up dozing off on the daybed on the deck, the balcony above acting as a canopy over you.

When you finally blinked awake sometime later, the sun had long gone though the fire was still crackling at your feet, and one look at Sarah told you she was beyond knocked out still.

One quick gust of wind reminded you that you’d dozed off in your bikinis, which was fine for the weather, but the sweltering Kildare heat tended to simmer down to a cooler breeze at night, and now you were in need of a jacket.

The pool light allowed you to notice the goosebumps on your friend’s skin too, prompting you to go fetch a blanket or a pair of sweatshirts from inside.

The house was still dark as you entered, quiet as you meandered through open space, making your way towards the living room.

Your feet had only just traded the hardwood for carpet when the sound of something in the kitchen behind you had you gasping and spinning on your heels.

The empty house was not empty.

There by the island, illuminated by the moonlight that poured in through the cracks in the blinds was none other than Rafe.

He seemed to be placing the Brita back on the shelf, and the sound of the plastic hitting the surface had caught your attention.

You mentally cursed yourself for even acknowledging the noise. You weren’t sure what time it was, but you figured the absence of the sun meant it was primetime for Rafe to be either high or drunk, and you knew you didn’t have any desire to deal with your sister’s brother right now.

You started to turn away, but your eyes fell to the soft fabric wrapped around your wrist, and you were suddenly interested in a conversation with the kook.

“What are you doing here?” Rafe spun around, eyes wide as they fell on you.

Until they weren’t. His gaze softened, and he turned his body away from the fridge, opting to close the door in favor of a new thirst to quench.

He fixed a puzzled look your direction, looking around as if to ensure he was where he thought he was before declaring, “This is my house. The fuck are you still doing here?”

The chip on his shoulder was ever present.

His attitude earned an eye roll from you, and if you hadn’t been so curious about your traveling scrunchie, you might’ve just left on that note.

Instead, you straightened your posture, standing up straight as you posed the question: “Have you been stealing my stuff?”

Rafe sized you up, eyes raking up and down your exposed figure. The way his tongue darted out to wet his lips had you shifting nervously.

“What makes you say that?”

“I found this,” you held up your wrist, twisting it around to show off the scrunchie, “In your room.”

This wasn’t news to Rafe. He knew you found it, the missing relic was the first thing he noticed when he got back home.

“My room?” He repeated. “In my room, you-you were in my room?”

You swallowed hard as the realization rang through your head. What were you doing in his room?

It didn’t matter, you thought. How did he get something from your bag?

“It doesn’t matter,” you tried, turning your nose up his direction, “How did this end up in your room?”

Rafe’s shoulders rose and fell naturally, as if he wasn’t spewing lie after lie already.

“Couldn’t tell you.”

“Well, I don’t believe you.” You spat, arms folding across your chest.

You hoped the move would help accentuate your anger, and it might have, if you were wearing literally anything else.

The lowcut bikini top only accentuated your tits that were now perfectly pushed together by your arms.

The sight had Rafe tightening in his pants. Maybe if you had some more experience under your belt, you would’ve picked up on the bulge that was quickly working to make itself known.

It was harder for the boy to keep focused now, but he still tried his best.

“Y’know, I don’t appreciate you accusing me of being a liar in my own home…”

Rafe had to admit, he was surprised at your challenge. You’d never been one to retaliate when he subjected you to his bullying, so your boldness now caught him off guard.

And it also made him want to fuck the attitude right out of you.

But he knew he had to take things slow at first.

You shrunk in on yourself as Rafe advanced carefully, meticulously towards you. Your best friend’s brother had always come off as unapproachable, intimidating, but now, as he towered over you, so close to you, he embodied the adjectives even more.

You’d felt big enough to challenge him at first, but the closer he got, the smaller you appeared, and the weaker you felt.

“Look around sweetheart,” Rafe motioned around the mansion walls with his hands before continuing, “this is my house. That pool you dance around all day? That’s mine too, okay?” He placed two large hands on either one of your shoulders, and you flinched at the sudden contact.

“You’re the fucking pogue here,” he reminded you. “My shit’s been missing too. Maybe you’re stealing from me. Hmm?”

You stared up at him with wide eyes, attempting to shake yourself from his grip, but Rafe’s hold was firm.

“You’re crazy-!” you started, but Rafe immediately cut you off.

“Am I? Is it so crazy to think that a broke, trashy pogue isn’t just using my sister for her kook status?” Rafe spoke as if he cared about his sister, or if anyone used her for the amenities she had access to, or anything at all for that matter.

The mention of his sister sparked a new idea, a new tactic in his mind.

“Maybe she’s the one putting you up to this, yeah? Yeah? Does, does she wanna get me in trouble or-or something?” Rafe didn’t put it past his sister to stage an ass beating from Ward at his expense, and he had you questioning if you’d put it past her now, too.

The way his words began to slur despite the absence of alcohol on his breath started to worry you.

This was the longest interaction you’d shared with the oldest Cameron. It had only been all of a couple minutes so far, but you still felt nervous as he started to stutter and slip up his words.

Even though he was lying, Rafe could easily make himself believe the words he was saying, too. He hoped they were as believable for you.

“Sarah didn’t put me up to anything. We went in your room for your speaker, and that’s when I found my hairtie. So you stole it, or what?”

“Call me a liar one more time,” Rafe warned. Even in the dimly lit kitchen, you didn’t miss the way his blue eyes seemed to fade into a much darker hue now. There was hardly any space between the two of you now as he moved in even closer.

“Go on,” he urged, “Say it. Call me a liar again. In my home, see what happens.”

You drew your hands up, pressing them meakly against his chest, hoping he would allow you some space.

“Rafe, you need to back up-“

All he did was shove your arms back down, his strong gaze burning down into you as he did the opposite of what you asked.

Your jaw was suddenly seized between his rough fingers in a tight grip, pulling your face up closer to his as he seethed, “No, you need to learn your place around here. I know you spend all of your time here, but this is not your house. And I’m not quite past the fact that you went in my room without permission.”

You swatted at Rafe’s arms as he slowly walked you backwards. His hand on your jaw only offered you one way to look, directly up at him, blue eyes seeing through you…until they dropped, and his sight lingered on other parts of your body.

His newfound interest in your half-naked figure made you uncomfortable enough to drop the tough girl act you’d first planned to maintain.

“I-I’m sorry, Rafe, I won’t go in there again.” You hoped your apology would get you out of his hold, out of the kitchen, quickly.

“Nah that’s…that’s okay,” Rafe tilted his head menacingly to the side, giving your jaw another light squeeze. “You can make up for it right now.”

You didn’t even see Rafe raise a hand to your chest, you just knew your best friend’s older brother was suddenly fondling your tits through your top, roughly squeezing the rounds of flesh between his palms.

You drew in a sharp breath, hands meeting his chest again as you attempted to push the man away.

The unwanted advance made you feel dirty, unladylike, as you’d never had a guy touch you in that way before.

He was pulling at the top, trying anything to expose your chest as you tried everything to keep him from succeeding.

“Rafe! Rafe stop or I’ll…I’ll scream,” You warned, “I’ll scream for Sarah right now.”

You were released from Rafe’s grip entirely, though your feet were still planted to the floor as you stood in shock at what had just happened.

Your best friend was asleep just a few feet away, and her older brother had just touched you inappropriately, against your will.

The person who had been nothing but a thorn in your side, constantly ridiculing you and making fun of you for anything he could think of for years, had suddenly crossed a line you never even knew you needed to draw with him.

Rafe fixed a taunting look on his face as he nodded his head slowly.

“Oh yeah? Is-is that what you think you’re gonna do?” His smile was laced with amusement at your threat.

The way he stalked dangerously close to you had your breath hitching in your throat.

Fight or flight kicked in, and you turned on your heels to take off towards the backyard.

You’d only just parted your lips to scream for Sarah when your cries were muffled beneath a large hand encompassing your mouth in a painful grip.

Large arms grabbed at you from behind, wrapping around your torso and neck and holding you tightly to Rafe’s chest.

“Now, I didn’t want it to be like this…” his words had you trembling in his hold. “I wanted your first time to be special, all about you, but, you know…” Rafe laughed like he’d heard something funny.

Like anything could possibly be amusing about this situation.

“I’ve never responded well to threats.”

With that, Rafe pushed you face down onto the kitchen island, forcing you to turn your head to the side so your cheek was flush with the cold marble instead of your chin.

The change in temperature on your bare stomach and arms had your skin breaking out in a series of goosebumps.

You gasped out for air, breathing suddenly much more difficult to manage as your body was wedged tightly between Rafe’s hard chest and the counter.

Panic was setting in, the sheer weight of the tense situation had you flailing and fighting beneath him.

When you fantasized about what your first time would be like, you’d always pictured it happening in a comfortable setting. You’d be on a bed, with some nice music playing in the background while someone you loved prepared your body for one of the biggest milestones one could reach in their young life.

A total contrast to the way you were pressed down on a kitchen counter, tears spilling from your eyes as your best friend’s brother forced himself on you, into you, stole the innocence you’d managed to protect all these years.

“Stop, fucking, moving…” Rafe spat through gritted teeth, words choppy as he struggled to contain the frantic girl underneath him. Stripping you of what little clothing you had on proved to be a tough feat as you continued to thrash about against the counter.

Part of him felt…bad, almost. Part of him wouldn’t have minded taking you upstairs instead, laying you down on his bed, and robbing you of your innocence in a less insensitive way.

But your attitude, the way you accused him of lying and stealing from you pissed him off.

And Rafe treated anyone who pissed him off just the same, it didn’t matter who you were.

Or if your accusation was totally true or not.

The strapless bikini top was too easy. Rafe was able to yank it down first, exposing your tits to the cold surface he had you bent over.

Your bottoms were harder to manage, but he eventually managed to subdue you enough to pull the thin fabric to the side.

He didn’t even stop to admire what was his first official look at your clit, instead he wasted no time dragging two fingers across his tongue, coating the digits in his own saliva, which he then used to slide along your folds, lubricating the area he planned to explore.

Rafe had to remind himself you were still a virgin when he lined up both fingers with your entrance. He opted to slide just one in first, stopping at the first knuckle just underneath his nail. His lips parted, jaw falling slack as your body jolted violently at the unfamiliar intrusion.

You weren’t mentally prepared, let alone physically prepared to have sex for the first time tonight.

He could feel your muscles tense across the board, prompting him to lean further into your body, pinning you impossibly closer to the counter as he slowly dragged one finger in and out of your tight pussy.

“Relax,” he coaxed as he allowed his finger to slide fully past your walls, burying the single digit as far in as it would go.

You whimpered beneath him, your whines vibrating against his chest and encouraging him to try a second finger quicker than he’d planned.

“So fuckin’ tight… God, you really are a virgin.”

You didn’t even have the time or mental capacity to worry about how Rafe knew you were a virgin.

He was instantly curling his digits upwards in a skillful manner, massaging a part of you that you’d never explored before.

The feeling of something, anything penetrating your walls was so new to you. You hadn’t stopped squirming or allowed your muscles to untense once. You couldn’t.

“You need to relax… you wanna enjoy your first time, right baby?” His words were anything but relaxing, even as a large hand circled over your lower back in a way you assumed was meant to be soothing. You squeezed your eyes shut, words failing you in the moment.

You did want to enjoy your first time.

But it wasn’t supposed to be anything like this.

Your body was overwhelmed with pain, you were feeling so many emotions, so many new sensations you’d never been subjected to before.

It was almost impossible to believe that you were about to have sex for the first time, let alone against your will. You struggled to come to terms with the violation, even as the sound of Rafe’s pants dropping to the floor all but confirmed your fate.

“I know I will…”

A strong foot kicked between your own and forced you to widen your stance, and tears brimmed at your eyes as you unwillingly spread your legs further for the man behind you.

Rafe could feel your body trembling against his, prompting him to shush you softly in your ear, “Shh, it’s okay Y/N/N, I’ll talk you through it, baby…”

You didn’t have time to react, no time to adjust before a you felt a pressure like nothing you’d ever felt between your legs before.

The burning sensation was all you could focus on as Rafe forced his thick cock through your tight, virgin walls.

He took his time at first, the rolling of his hips calculated as he eased into you.

He’d only managed to push the tip in when your cried out again.

“C’mon princess, I’m goin’ slow…you gotta open up for me, baby.” His own breathing was labored as he pushed through the tight barrier.

The way he struggled to sheath his length inside of you was proof enough that you’d never been with anyone else before. And after tonight, Rafe would make sure you’d never be with anyone else, either.

You gripped the side of the kitchen island with force as Rafe fully bottomed out inside of you, his hips smacking against yours and forcing a high-pitched mewl from the back of your throat.

“Fuck…” Rafe’s voice was low and laced with a dark lust. Blue eyes darted around wildly, raking in the sight of your beautiful body on display for him. You were perfect, everything about this was perfect.

Rafe only wished he could be looking at your face, drinking in all your facial expressions while being fucked for the very first time instead. He desperately wanted to see the way your eyes watered, how much you cried over his cock.

Next time, he was sure he would.

But the opportunity had presented itself on a whim, and he had to make the most of the cards he’d been dealt.

Next time, he’d get to brush your hair back and revel in the beautiful faces he could pull from you, but for now, he’d settle for the sounds he was able to pull from your throat as his sight dropped down to where your bodies connected.

This is just the first time… he reminded himself.

It was so surreal to have you pinned beneath him, the same swimsuit he’d watched you tan in from afar for ages, now disregarded to the side as his dick slotted in and out of you, ass bouncing back against his cock as he rutted into you.

Words couldn’t suffice the way Rafe felt as he drove his cock into your soaked core, knowing he was the first and only one to do so.

Just the feel of your walls wrapped around his fingers had the boy eager to cum in his pants.

But that was absolutely nothing compared to the way your puffy lips so eagerly drank him in, swallowing his cock, squeezing the life out of it. He was sure he’d never had this much trouble keeping his seed at bay before.

But he strained himself, forcing his release to wait, slowing down or pulling his dick all the way out before plunging back into you, anything the boy could try to maintain his stamina that was threatening to falter.

Eventually, your muscles did relax, as much as the salacious situation would allow. You’d all but completely collapsed against the counter, fingernails long given up clawing at the edge of the heavy marble as you were rendered a limp, sweaty mess beneath the older boy.

A small surge of desire was somehow conjured against your wishes, and the stimulation broke up the total and utter fear you’d started with.

It was only when Rafe was sure you lacked the energy to put up a fight that he finally pulled back, keeping one hand on your lower back and moving the other to your hip for support as he continued rutting into the mess he was making of your core.

The extra space allowed you to sit up just slightly, relieving your ribs you were sure would bruise, and letting air rush back into your lungs. Your body had betrayed you, back naturally arching off of the counter, hips bucking up against the aggressor.

And he was oh so observant to your signs of arousal.

“Mhmm,” he rasped, eyes trained on the girl he had completely exposed on the counter beneath him. “That feel good baby? Hmm?” You couldn’t bring yourself to form any words if you tried.

Again, Rafe had to remind himself that it was your first time.

Even the cruel pace he put forward would only be considered lightwork compared to what he actually wanted to do with you. What he planned to do with you in the future. Things you would likely need time to work up to…

But this was your first time.

The less you fought against him, the more he felt driven to offer an unusual gentleness that girls didn’t usually see with Rafe Cameron.

And even though sex was anything but new to Rafe, something about this encounter with you made it feel new to him.

He never kissed girls when he fucked them, but now Rafe felt compelled to magnetize his mouth to your skin as he hovered over you. The harsh snap of his hips never relented as Rafe’s lips met your shoulder, teeth grazing the skin and pulling a gasp from you. He rested his weight on one arm as he moved your hair out of the way with his other hand, clearing the canvas of your backside for his lips. Rafe kissed you everywhere, your back, your shoulders, all over your neck, tongue lapping and suckling the soft skin.

Rafe was usually too busy pulling hair, choking or even slapping whichever girl he was with that night to offer any kind of affection, yet here he was, hands sweetly roaming and caressing your figure.

The way you mewled softly under his touch told him you’d been introduced to the enjoyable side of sex, and he lovedthe fact that he was the one to open this new door for you.

In reality though, you couldn’t be exactly sure if you were enjoying this or not.

You despised your best friend’s brother just as much as she did. He was your biggest tormentor, never had anything nice to say about you. Never amounted you to anything more than a pogue, someone who was less than him, belowhim.

Yet here you were, literally laid below him now, Rafe devouring every bit of you like a man starved.

This was wrong. So, so much about this was just plain wrong.

Right down to the throbbing of your core around the boy’s cock.

A smile stretched across Rafe’s face as he felt the tell-tale signs of your first orgasm approaching, courtesy of him.

“You feel that? I feel you baby,” You weren’t sure how he picked up on the building sensation within you, but you didn’t dwell on it.

You couldn’t as the abrupt tightening feeling in your stomach had you biting down on your lower lip.

You tried to remember your past conversations with Sarah, tried to remember if this was one of the things Sarah mentioned would happen before you ‘finished’, as she’d always put it.

But it was hard to focus on anything other than the confusing mix of pain and pleasure you felt as your best friend’s older brother continued to subject your newly defiled walls to his brutal pace, even as your stomach coiled.

“Don’t fight it, it’s okay… I’m right here,” He placed another kiss to the back of your shoulder as you continued to whimper and whine below him. “I’ve got you baby, go ahead, you can cum on my cock.” His voice was gruff as he panted the words out in between breaths, tone riddled with desire as his eyes were trained on your pussy as it swallowed him in with every thrust.

It was only when Rafe lodged himself so deep inside of you that you were sure he’d hit some sort of bone or organ, that the pain, all of it, was temporarily overridden by some sort of sick, puzzling pleasure.

A wave of sensations you’d never felt before overtook your senses, ones you’d only ever dreamed of or read about.

You couldn’t stop your legs from shaking, or the surely pornographic moans from slipping past your lips as you came apart on Rafe’s cock. He continued thrusting into you, your hip bones jutting into the edge of the counter as he finally let his dam break too, seed spilling up into you.

The warm ropes of liquid came out in spurts, and your tight walls were clenching hard, pulsating redundantly around Rafe’s length as you milked him dry.

Once the sensation seemed to simmer down, you were left with nothing but a horrible ringing in your ears and an emptiness between your thighs as Rafe’s hips retreated, a long groan filling the air as he pulled his throbbing cock from your pussy without hurry.

You couldn’t see the way his jaw clenched, teeth gritted together as his arousal immediately began leaking from your center, but you could feel his rough fingers shoving the cum back up into you, undoubtedly mixing with the red crimson color that also leaked from you, a confirmation of your loss.

Rafe smirked at the sight, working to re-steady his breathing as he fetched his pants and boxers from their pooled position at his ankles, pulling the material up and fixing himself back to decency.

When you finally managed to push yourself up off of the counter, your legs felt extremely weak and wobbly, almost threatening to buckle beneath you, if it wasn’t for Rafe’s quick grip on your waist.

He spun you around by the hold on your hips, fingers pressing firmly into the skin as you were made to face him.

He could’ve drooled at the sight of his little sister’s best friend. You looked totally fucked out, exactly how he’d imagined. Thinking of how much he’d restrained himself from doing, he had to wonder what you’d look like after he really had his way with you.

Your hair was in disarray, tears dried to your face, makeup smudged, mascara running when your eyes finally met his for what felt like the first time in forever.

He brushed your hair back out of your face first before moving to adjust your swimsuit.

Rafe’s large hands slipped underneath the band of your bikini top, lifting the material back up and over your tits.

His hands took their time on the way down to your bottoms, fingertips lightly grazing the skin of your sides before curling around the waistband, situating the bikini back over your sex and lifting the straps up over your hips securely.

He waited to see if you would speak, though he figured it was a long shot.

“Did that feel good?” You only stared up at him, lips parted as you panted under your breath.

“Nod for me, princess. Did I make you feel good?” You hated the way he spoke to you like a child, as if three years was a significant age gap.

But you’d be lying if you said no, so you nodded your head in response. At some point, you’d started deriving pleasure from the heinous act committed against you.

“I can make you feel even better than that.” He assured, though you didn’t see how that was even possible.

You weren’t sure you’d be able to handle it, either.

You also weren’t sure why your mind wasn’t immediately screaming at you to slap Rafe across the face and run to wake up his sister after what he’d just done to you.

But something about the boy’s words, his promises… intrigued you.

He’d opened a new door of curiosity for you, and now your body was desirous of more of the newfound stimulation.

Your lack of protest, the way your feet stayed planted on the tile told him his coercions were working.

Rafe’s eyes trailed down your figure, from your chest as it rose and fell to the scrunchie wrapped around your wrist still.

He tucked a single digit underneath the elastic band, lifting and snapping the material back down on your skin, demanding your attention.

“When you return my speaker tomorrow,” he started, offering you a deadline and nodding his head towards the backyard where Sarah had taken the speaker, “I’ll have to teach you some more.”

#another fav #he’s so evil i love it

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sunniepoo · 11 months ago

Text

strawberry shortcake (rafe cameron x reader)

got sent home to change 'cause my skirt is too short.

WARNINGS: mature content; dark!rafe, non!con, dub!con, spanking, use of belt, victim-blaming, manipulation, degradation, explicit language, depiction of explicit sexual acts

word count: 9.1k

masterlist

you and rafe were…complicated. you’d known him just as long as you’ve known his sister, and yet, you’d never had a particularly great relationship.

your father worked closely with the cameron family. he and ward met each other in college, but went their separate ways after graduation. ward returned to the outer banks after a few years of living on the mainland, slowly making a name for himself as a real estate developer. your own parents moved back to charlotte after graduating, meeting at school and getting married in their hometown. raised in the city, all of your family was there, and all your friends were there.

one fated day, your parents decided that your entire family was going to pack up and move to the outer banks. you were eight years old at the time, so of course it felt like your entire life was falling apart. everything you ever knew was going to be miles and miles away just because your parents said so.

it felt so sudden, so unexpected. as far as you were aware, there was no one you knew in the outer banks. your family had a beach house there that you would visit every other summer, but that was all. to you, they might as well have said that you were moving to a deserted island with zero human interaction.

the moment you arrived the summer before you started third grade, it was a complete culture shock. you were used to living in the city; busy streets, skyscrapers that kissed the clouds and lit up with the colors of the rainbow, and so many people that you’d never see them more than twice. kildare was the complete opposite. you could drive across the entire town and back in under two hours and the tallest building in town was a church. everybody knew everybody, and every person had their place.

you only found that after your parents were pulled over by a police officer while driving around figure-eight. it wasn’t too often people that looked like you drove around the “nice” side of town in a shiny, new car. not that they’d never seen it, but they knew all the people that did, and nobody in your family was one of them. you couldn’t count the number of times someone had asked if you were lost or ‘supposed to be here’ when playing around your front yard, taking a walk, or existing in any public place on figure-eight.

your parents allowed you a week to adjust before they threw you into the merciless waters of small town social politics.

the first time you were properly introduced to the cameron family was during sunday service. you didn’t grow up going to church despite being from the bible belt, mostly because big city life didn’t revolve around it as much as it did in kildare. your parents forced you out of bed early in the morning to get ready, your mother all but stuffing you into the best sunday dress you owned. like any eight-year-old, you complained about it. you hated blue, but your parents insisted on all of your outfits being color-coordinated. the mary janes and frilly socks made you feel like a little kid, but your mom wouldn’t budge on it.

begrudgingly, you sat through an hour long sermon in a church filled with flamboyantly dressed rich people. and then you sat through another hour of brunch with the camerons and their friends, even more annoyed than you were sitting through service in the hot, old chapel.

ward and your father had kept in contact over the years, and it was a couple years before the move that the two of them became business partners. your dad became the cameron family’s lawyer, and it was easier to actually be in the same place as them rather than hundreds of miles away. your mother didn’t mind the move; in fact, she was excited. she worked as an oncologist back home, and the lack of them on the island meant there was great demand for her work.

it was there where you met sarah cameron, the girl that became your friend at first sight. she was younger than you, but at that age it really made no difference. the little blonde girl was excited to meet someone new and declared that you two would be ‘best friends forever just like your dads. though it took some warming up on your part, ever since that day, the pair of you have been attached by the hip.

rafe, however, not so much.

“hey, sarah?” you called out to the girl standing across from you, her surprised eyes wide as they snapped towards yours after being pulled out of the conversation with her boyfriend.

“yeah?”

“could you tell your brother to fuck off?” a smile lit up your face as the question slipped from your gloss-covered lips. “please?”

you had come over to sarah’s house a few hours ago, the girl inviting you to attend a large party that her parents planned every summer for the fourth of july. at first, you weren’t too keen on coming, but the two of you hadn’t spent much time together this summer and you felt too guilty to turn her down. this was the summer before you left her for nine months to attend college, and even though you didn’t want to come, you did it to make her happy.

the moment you stepped foot onto the property, rafe buzzed around your ear like a common house fly with comment after comment on your appearance.

“what’s the matter, princess?” rafe speaks up from his spot just a few feet away. his head quirks to the side, a look of faux-concern covering his face. “stick up your ass a little too big today?”

topper and kelce chuckle at the comment, attempting to hide the sound by clearing their throats when they catch the dangerous cut of your eyes. your gaze meet rafe’s again and you watch as he raises the whiteclaw to his lips, the white can covering the smirk on his face as he takes a sip.

when you first met rafe, he was nice enough–very cordial. the boy was only older than you by a a year, but he acted as if the difference was so significant that he couldn’t be seen around you. he wasn’t necessarily shy, but every boy that age was concerned with catching cooties. it was impossible to keep his distance, though, especially since your dads worked together and you were constantly over their house. you and rafe maintained a somewhat friendly relationship with each other for years–never getting as close as you and sarah, but it was amiable.

that all changed when you got to the eighth grade.

the older boy had started his first year of high school, while you and sarah were still in middle school together.

the difference in maturity was beginning to have an affect on your relationship with both of them. you were turning fourteen and sarah was turning twelve; it felt like you were in totally different worlds. she was starting to become more of a little sister to you than a friend, but you loved her no less than before.

rafe was only fifteen, but he was in high school now. he hung out with guys older than him, and that meant doing whatever to impress them. he had completely brushed you off as a ‘little girl,’ and acted like you were a burden to have around if you were at tannyhill while his friends were there.

it hurt you at first. you knew the two of you weren’t close, but to be completely disregarded for people he barely knew didn’t make you feel great about yourself.

you were naive to believe it’d be any other way.

when it was your turn to enter high school, you felt alone. sarah was still in middle school, and rafe treated you like dirt on the bottom of his shoe. it was like you had to start all over now that you didn’t have either of them to cling onto. it wasn’t hard for you to make friends, but you still felt alone without your best friend–and betrayed by her brother.

“rafe, stop! you’re being an ass.” sarah shoves her brother, eyebrows furrowed as she scolds her older silbing.

“what? it’s a joke, chill out.” rafe barely stumbles from the shove. his eyes remain on you, not even sparing his sister more than a second of a glance. “she can take a joke. right, y/n?”

“of course i can take a joke, rafe!” you tilted your head in the same manner as he did just a few moments ago. “remember that time you asked me out senior year? that was really funny.”

a smile grazed your lips softly as you watched him freeze in place for the briefest second before regaining composure. both his friends and sarah snorted at the quip, catching onto the implication. nobody noticed the look shared between you and the oldest cameron, nor the rise in tension.

it was the summer before your junior year and rafe’s senior–two weeks before midsummers, to be exact. rafe hadn’t let up on what was the borderline bullying he’d been subjecting you to since you started high school; in fact, it had only increased that summer. you were at the cameron’s house almost everyday with sarah, and her brother didn’t spare you a moment of peace when you happened to come across each other on the property–or off of it.

rafe spotted you alone by the dock, tossing rocks into the water as you stared into the dimming light of the july sky. you knew it was him approaching because his feet were heavy against the twigs lining the ground, not light and nimble like sarah’s.

“y/n,” he called out from behind you, towering presence warm at your back. he sounded nervous, which struck you as odd. when he spoke to you, his voice carried the weight of condescension or irritation–never the champagne bubbles of anxiety. it was obvious he was trying to disguise it, but you knew him too well for it to work. “can we talk?”

you responded with a disinterested hum, throwing the last rock into the water before turning to face him. you expected him to say something stupid, the sole purpose of him catching you there alone to bother you until you went back to your own house.

what you were not expecting, however, was for him to confess his feelings–feelings for you. you could hear your ears ringing when he asked if you would go with him to midsummers, brain sparking up with disbelief and agitation at the sound of the words leaving his mouth.

there were no second thoughts when he was met with firm rejection.

you weren’t sure why it caught him by surprise considering he’d been treating you like shit for three years, but he acted as if you shot him at point blank. though you never told anyone, you had a crush on him at one point as well. it began to feel more like hopeless pining after he began to treat you like an incessant fruit fly, which is why you got over it–for the most part, at least.

that’s when the mistreatment from him became a feud on both ends. you felt justified in your feelings towards him, and rafe having the audacity to be mad at you for turning him down only fueled the fire.

the oldest cameron sibling had his own issues, ones that made him quick to anger towards everything and everyone for no reason, especially you.

“you think you’re funny, huh?” the blonde looks displeased by his friends’ reactions, jaw clenching in annoyance. he could dish it, but he couldn’t take it.

“as if you know what that is.” you raised your brows at him, a smile still covering your face. you reached out a hand towards him, palm landing gently on his broad chest in a false gesture of comfort. “its okay, rafey, not everyone is made for being funny. stick to being useless, okay? you’re amazing at that!”

shoving past the blonde, you walked in the direction of the house after telling sarah you were going to sit inside for a moment to hide from the heat. the coastal carolina humidity was taking a toll on you, and rafe’s presence was only adding to the irritation.

you took your time walking around the house, the massive interior surrounding you on all sides. the sound of your shoes softly tapping against the ground was the only sound filling the air, the commotion of the party outside left behind the further you ventured. your feet carried you up the grand staircase gracefully, hips swaying with each step until you reached the top.

the mansion was not unfamiliar. you and sarah had run these halls together countless times over the years, no room left unexplored by the two of you–including rafe’s.

out of curiosity, your eyes drifted in the direction of the boy’s bedroom. the door had been left wide open for anyone to walk in, and there was an invisible force pushing you to enter. it’s been years since you’ve explored it, the last time resulting in being caught by its inhabitant. memories of you and sarah snooping around his drawers flashed through your mind, rafe coming in and cursing the two of you with colorful words you’d never heard in-person before.

this time, rafe wasn’t here to stop you. he was far too occupied outside with his friends to interrupt your impulsive decision to explore his room once more.

you shuffled towards the open door of his room, head peeking into the empty space before stepping inside. the room hadn’t changed much from the last time you saw it; it was still reminiscent of a teenage boy, just much cleaner. your feet softly padded across the floor to the window on the opposite side, staring out of the window at the crowd below.

the music was just barely audible through the thick glass, the little ants of people wandering around with cups in hand as they interacted with each other. eyes scanning the crowd, your brows furrowed together in confusion. kelce, sarah, and topper were right where you left them, but rafe was nowhere to be found the longer you searched over the attendees.

“maybe he left…” you said to yourself, shoulders raising in a weak shrugging motion.

“who?”

you nearly jumped out of your skin at the sound of the voice appearing in the background so suddenly, a scream bubbling in your throat before you turned around to meet it’s owner. the sight of rafe cameron standing in the doorway barely did anything to calm your nerves, his stern face and crossed arms only making you anxious.

“y’know–i could’ve sworn i told you to stay out of my room?” his blue eyes bored into yours, gaze unrelenting and intense as they awaited an answer for your presence.

“what are you doing in here?” you were tempted to pinch yourself as the question slipped from between your lips.

“this is my room,” he said pointedly. “what are you doing in here?”

you shrugged again, the nervousness that filled you moments ago dissipating the longer you faced him. the worst thing he could do is tell you to get out, there was no reason to feel anxious about his appearance. you pushed yourself off the window frame you were resting against to walk towards the door, ready to make your exit now that you’ve been caught.

“not going through your shit, if that’s what you’re worried about. i was bored–now i’m leaving.” you were at the halfway point of his room, eyes rolling nonchalantly as you brushed him off. “what are you doing?”

rafe entered the room fully, a look of mischief shining brightly from behind his eyes as your own flickered to the door that shut behind him with a soft ‘thud’. you could feel your brows pinch together ever so slightly at the sight before you met his face again.

you didn’t flinch when he began to approach you with slow, rhythmic steps. his legs were long and he could have easily made it to you in just a few but he deliberately took his time walking in your direction, each soft noise of his shoe hitting the ground spaced a second apart.

“what for? not like you have anywhere to be,” his hands were stuffed into the pockets of his shorts and his head tilted to the side in a feigned curiosity that was clearly heard through his voice. “actually–i think we need to talk…”

the blonde stopped barely a foot in front of you. he wasn’t quite invading your personal space, just pushing against the boundary lines of it. your eye twitches involuntarily, but you say nothing.

pushing the boundaries was something rafe had been doing for a while. mentally and physically. it was part of what further pulled the string of tension between you two.

maybe it’s because he’s a guy, but there wasn’t a day you could go seeing rafe without him making comments on your body or touching you without permission. your chest, your backside, your lips, your eyes–there was nothing spared from his overtly sexual thoughts. you weren’t sure if he was doing it solely to piss you off or make you uncomfortable, but being either one did nothing to discourage him.

in fact, it only served as motivation for him to continue.

it had been more times than you could count that rafe had groped you and claimed that his hand slipped–that you were overreacting. sometimes he wouldn’t even deny it; he’d blame you for wearing a too-short skirt or a top so small that ‘you had to have been wanting the attention or you wouldn’t have left the house like that.’ he had a habit of standing uncomfortably close to you, so close that you could feel the rise and fall of his chest against your back or the hair on his arms tickling your own.

you just brushed it off as him being obnoxious, slapping away wandering hands and giving quick-witted responses to the suggestive remarks. guys his age were assholes and because of how long you’d known him, you never let it bother you too much. or at least, you refused to let him know that it bothered you.

“i don’t think so, rafe.“ you eyed him suspiciously. “what could we possibly have to talk about?” your arms raised to fold across your chest, fingertips cold from the air-conditioning as they rested against your bare skin.

if it weren’t so hot and sticky outside you would have worn pants, but the frilly, pink skirt adorning your bottom half was far too tempting to pass up in this weather. you could feel the goosebumps rising over your entire body from the coolness of the house.

rafe just stared for a moment. you could see the synapses firing behind the blue of his irises, and the sight unsettled you. the feeling of his eyes raking over your frame did nothing to shake the discomfort either.

“your attention-seeking behavior. your disrespectful attitude.” his gaze flittered back up to meet yours and you could make out the ghost of a smirk wash over his features. “it's becoming a problem, don’t ya’ think?”

“what?” that was not on the list of things you were expecting him to say. you couldn’t help the amused laugh that escaped your lips in a breath. “what the fuck are you talking about right now?”

“what am i talking about?” his dark blonde brows come together in an expression of concern–one you were sure he was faking.

rafe’s tanned arm reached out towards you, long fingers grabbing a braid from your head and twirling the end around the digits. not abnormal behavior, but you still squinted at him anyway.

“you must be the stupid one if you don’t know what i’m talking about.”

a scoff left your mouth and your hand lifted to smack his away from your hair. your eyes nearly strained out of their sockets from the amount of restraint it took not to roll them, lids blinking away the urge that fought against them.

“bye, rafe.” your path was blocked when you tried to move around him, the tall man following your step before you could even finish making it. “move!”

he caught the hand raised to push him out of the way with ease, the strength in his grip restrained but still felt as it surrounded your wrist. every attempt to take it back into your possession failed, your opponent unrelenting.

startled, a gasp left your mouth when you were pulled forward roughly, rafe’s body pressed tightly against yours as he brought his free hand to rest on your lower back. the ghost on his face was now living, a grin widespread over his lips that showed off the whites of his teeth as he stared down at you.

“stop touching me, you’re being a creep.” you didn’t raise your voice at him, but you were firm in your demand.

“oh, please,” he rolled his eyes at you, as if you were the one acting out of line. “i think you want me to touch you.”

the hand that rested on your back fell even lower, the entirety of his hand capturing your ass in its grasp. you inhale sharply, the roughness of his fingers squeezing down causing you to jerk forward in an attempt to escape. you were met with rafe’s warm chest trapping you between him and the hand gripping your backside through the fabric of the skirt keeping it covered.

“rafe!” you said loudly. “what the fuck is your problem?”

it’s not like he hadn’t touched you there before; he’d done it plenty. but those were only light brushes in passing or pinching you when you weren’t paying attention. things that he could pretend never happened, things that you could brush off as him being annoying.

this was not that.

“you walk around town in these itty, bitty skirts,” rafe’s smile was gone now, the mischief behind his eyes remained but it was mixed with something else–something you didn’t feel too keen about. “like you own the place–walking around my house like it’s yours. always acting like you’re better than everyone. like–like you’re above all of us. do you think you’re better than everyone, y/n?”

you shook your head at him, doing the best job you could muster at remaining calm despite the alarm bells ringing in your head. the free hand you were using to push his hand away from your ass was useless; he wasn’t budging. however, even with the little voice in the back of your mind telling you not to, you couldn’t help but to give a smart-assed reply.

“i don’t think i’m above everyone, rafe,” the corner of your lips twitched as you fought back the smile that wanted to appear. “just you.”

he chuckled at that, but not because he found it funny. it was obvious by the way his face darkened, which is what queued you into thinking that you should’ve just kept your mouth shut.

relief filled you when he released the clothed flesh of your behind from his vices, but only momentarily. your feet stumbled over each other clumsily as rafe walked forward with purpose, forcing you backwards until your the crease of your knees hit the bed. you remained standing, but if he were to push you again you’d certainly lose your balance.

the oldest cameron sibling was much…larger than you remembered. you saw him practically every day, but you couldn’t recall his biceps ever being this big as your hands held onto them to stabilize yourself. you’ve never felt intimidated when standing near him, but as you craned your neck upward, all you could feel was the fear bubbling in your stomach. faced with his towering height, he could easily overpower you if that’s what he wanted to do–and you had a feeling he did.

a chill ran down your spine.

“you come over here every day wearing practically nothing, swinging that pretty ass in my face like a fucking tease, and then treat me like you don’t know who you’re talking to.” he shakes his head in faux-disappointment, the sound of his tongue tutting against his teeth filling your ears. “i told you to stop doing it, but you refuse. if you weren’t begging for attention, you wouldn’t act like that.”

“are you being serious right now?” you were in complete disbelief. the fear in your stomach remained, but a pang of vexation was thrown into the mix. “the last thing i want is your attention, rafe. i already turned you down once–stop being weird about it. just ‘cause you can’t keep your dick in your pants doesn’t make me the problem.”

the tall blond’s eye twitched, lips raising like hackles as he all but snarled at you.

both of his hands dropped suddenly, giving you zero time to react as he gripped the bottom of your skirt in his hands and yanked it upwards. a sound of surprise rolled out of your mouth and rafe took advantage of your shock to spin you around and push you face down onto the bed. your body barely bounced once before rafe was seated on the mattress next to you, strong arms reaching over to grab your legs and throw them over his lap haphazardly as he pinned your arms behind your back.

you felt him lean his upper body against you and apply force, preventing you from lifting yourself up off the bed and leaving you completely at his mercy.

“rafe!” you scolded as he hiked up your skirt even higher and exposed you further. his position under you left you unable to lie flat, back arched uncomfortably with your pelvis resting on his muscled thighs. panic was beginning to fill you. “rafe, stop! what are you doing?”

he doesn’t respond, a bump silence filling the tense air. you could feel the heat of his scrutinizing gaze, unable to control your squirming as the warmth of his hand palmed at your barely covered skin. he massaged at the soft flesh, squeezing it between his fingers like he was being entertained by putty.

“you look so pretty in pink.”

a yelp escaped your lips when he brought his hand down against your ass with a resounding smack. he repeated the action on the other side with the same amount of force before half-assing an attempt at massaging away the sting. you hissed from the pain, his rough groping doing nothing to ease the feeling.

he hums to himself, hand pulling away to deliver another blow. you cursed at him, leg kicking up out of anger but able to do any real damage.

“y’know,” rafe says and you couldn’t help but huff in anger. “you brought this on yourself. we wouldn’t have to do this if you were just a nice girl.” you could hear the disappointment dripping from his voice and it enraged you.

“maybe i’m not nice to you because you’re a fucking dick.” he smacked you again. “fuck! stop, rafe!”

“and you’re a loud-mouthed bitch who needs to learn that actions have consequences.”

if you thought he wasn’t holding back before, you were proven wrong.

he spared you no second to recover from the barrage of smacks that he bestowed upon you. each time his hand raised, it reconnected just as mercilessly as it did before. all you could hear was the sound of skin on skin echoing throughout the bedroom, mind completely encompassed by the fiery heat produced by his palm against your ass.

you wanted to scream out, cry for help from anyone that happened to be wandering the halls of the old manor. you didn’t though. not because you couldn’t, but because you were scared. scared that if someone did come to help, they would see you bent over rafe’s lap like a misbehaving child. scared that the someone who came to your rescue would be sarah–or ward.

the humiliation would kill you.

instead, you settled on continuing with your demands to stop. you swore at him, threatened him, kicked at him as hard as you could. you tried everything to get him to let up, but he refused. the sound of your voice was nearly drowned out by the deafening sound of your backside being brutalized.

you were sure if someone were to walk past, it could be heard on the other side.

“i’m going to fucking kill you, rafe!” you gritted out through teeth clenched so tight that you could pop a blood vessel. “you’re disgusting!”

the blue-eyed man tutted from above you, abruptly pausing his assault. unexpectedly he pushed your legs off his lap and rose to his feet, leaving you in a heap on the bed. you almost sung out a praise to whatever angel had been keeping an eye on you, finally taking pity on your bruised behind. it felt like you were on fire; face hot, skin sticky with the sweat from putting up a fight, and the site of rafe’s abuse burning from the phantom of his hand.

your eyes snapped in rafe’s direction, pulled out of your thoughts by the sound of metal. he’d taken off his expensive leather belt when he stood up, the accessory folded in half between his hands as his hardened, amused eyes stared down at you. your eyes flitted between his face and the belt in his hand nervously, throat bobbing as you swallowed dryly.

he predicted your movement before you could even make it, moving so fast that you thought he was transported to you. rafe caught your legs as you attempted to crawl away and pulled you back over the edge. your feet landed on the floor but your top half remained pinned to the mattress, a strong hand keeping you in place as you struggled against it.

“change of plans,” he whispered against your ear. you were sure he felt you shiver against his hold from the breath on your skin. “i tried being gentle–well, as gentle as i can be with you. clearly, that’s not teaching you anything. “

“haven’t you heard? corporal punishment is outdated and ineffective.” it was in your nature to argue with him, even when he had you pinned beneath him like a wolf would a rabbit. “i’m not learning anything except for how much of a pervert you really are–not that i didn't already know.”

rafe chuckled at this, very darkly. he pulled away from your ear and positioned himself behind you, the heat of his presence radiating in a way that was almost suffocating. the silence was so loud that you could barely hear the sound of the party outside, blood rushing past your ears thunderously.

you braced yourself, unsure of what his next move would be. however, he made no moves. the blond just stood there behind you ominously, keeping your hands pinned to your back as he watched you noiselessly. the temptation to look behind you was overwhelming, and it was then when he decided to act.

the belt made fierce contact with your sensitive skin the moment your head twitched, the stillness between you no longer.

it took all of your strength to contain the scream that itched to leave your throat, a pained groan coming out from your gritted teeth. this was worse than his bare hand by miles, the fury of the leather leaving you thrashing with a single lick.

“i think,” he landed another strike to your ass after he spoke. “corporal punishment is very effective. it just takes a little…more to break through girls like you. it’s okay, though, you’ll learn.”

the belt comes down again and you couldn’t hold back the scream this time.

he gave no time for you to recover, the viciousness of each swat intensifying each time it landed. it was loud, much louder than his hands and in your foggy mind you worried endlessly about what would happen if someone else were to hear.

you don’t move when he lets go of your wrists, body paralyzed from pain and fear. rafe takes hold of your barely there underwear and yanks them down, the fabric pooling around your ankles leaving you fully exposed and hot with embarrassment. he takes no time to look between your legs and quickly returns to delivering your punishment.

the comforter beneath you fell victim to the deathly grip of your now free hands, talon-like fingers digging into the fabric as you used it to brace yourself. tears ran down your face uncontrollably and every muscle in your body was tense from the torment.

“rafe, please!” you cried out, hardly able to form a complete sentence. “ow! stop, stop! i’m sorry!”

you weren’t even sure what you were apologizing for, but you couldn’t take the torture for much longer. you’d fix your mouth to say whatever it takes to get him off of you.

“how many times have i told you to stop dressing like a slut? huh?” you responded with a pained screech. he paired the question with another lashing, your cries for mercy doing nothing to garner any of his sympathy. “and yet, you still do what you please. so i’m going to do what ever the fuck pleases me.”

it felt like you’d been here for an eternity, but it’d probably been maybe twenty minutes. twenty minutes since you walked into his room like a dumbass instead of going to sarah’s like you planned on doing in the first place. twenty minutes wasn’t a long time, and nobody would come looking for you any time soon.

a sob racked through your body at that. your hands reached back to grab at his weapon of choice in a desperate effort to stop the battery, and in response rafe put them right back where they were against your spine.

“you want everyone to see your ass so badly,” the leather slashed through the air and landed on you with a crack. “so i’m gonna give you something to show ‘em.”

you had been reduced to a pile of tears and tender flesh. rafe’s hands holding you down against the bed were hardly necessary; the both of you knew that you didn’t have the energy to fight back anymore. all you could do was scream, cry, and beg for him to end the attack against your poor ass. the welts on your flesh were beginning to form, you could feel it.

“stop crying.” he says from above you. you could practically hear the sound of his eyes rolling, but he paused the lashings anyways. “begging me to stop but–” he cuts himself off, his silence falling loudly on your ears.

the sound of the belt falling to the floor as he threw it into a random corner didn’t even register to you, the metal buckle thumping against the wall. all you could focus on was the hand between your quivering legs, and the throbbing sensation that you hadn’t noticed before. rafe’s fingers gliding against the wetness of your core made you flinch from being unprepared for his touch.

“you're leaking all over yourself…” shame washed over you in a tsunami-like wave, the feeling amplified by the wet sounds coming from where rafe’s hand meets the junction of your thighs. “i don’t think you want me to stop.”

“no!” you shouted. rafe let out a breathy chuckle as he watched you shake your head desperately against the mattress. “no more! please, i don’t want it...”

he hummed in response, fingers still toying with your dripping heat. they were just barely brushing over your clit, the bud swollen with need and twitching with every ghost-like touch. if you could scream, you would, but all you had the energy to do was whimper pathetically as he held you in place.

“hm, alright.” rafe’s agreeance made you release a shaky breath you hadn’t even realized you were holding. “i know what you do want, though.”

you felt his thick fingers grazing your entrance; just the pads of them. he was being a tease, letting you soak in the humiliation of being so adamant on him leaving you alone but having your body betray you.

he leaned down once again, the softness of his lips tickling the shell of your ear. you swallowed dryly as you struggled to focus on anything other than his torturous fingers sitting idly between your puffy lips.

“you want me to fuck this little hole open with my fingers,” he hummed again, the vibration of it sending a shockwave through your body. “wanna drool all over my hand with that messy cunt.”

you shook your head, squirming against his hold once again in an attempt to escape his curious fingers.

“no?” he asked and you shook your head again. “i don’t believe that.”

he only removed his hand from your long enough to flip you onto your back, barely exerting any strength to do so. instead of holding you down by your wrists, you were planted against the mattress by your neck with a firm hand. your own fingers moved to wrap around his arm while his returned to the heat building between your legs.

you gasped at the feeling of a long, thick digit pushing against the tight resistance as it coaxed you open enough to slip inside. with him between your legs you couldn’t close them–all you could do was lie there pathetically as he did what he wanted.

“aw, you feel that?” he cooed at you, eyes flickering up at your face briefly before dropping back to his hand. “it slipped right in…i think you can take two, don’t you?”

a whine slipped out at the feeling of a second finger slipping past the barrier of your hole to join the first one. his fingers were way bigger than yours, fitting inside of you more snugly than you were used to. he pulled them out at a snail’s pace, purposefully dragging against your spasming walls before pushing them right back in.

“yeah, you take it real good.” he grinned smugly, clearly enjoying the juxtaposition of the pained look on your face and the way you desperately latched onto his two fingers. “don’t want it, but your pussy’s sucking me in…why’s that?”

you couldn’t answer–not when you were panting like a bitch in heat, trying and failing at catching your breath as rafe stole it away from you. your arousal leaked out over his fingers and there was nothing you could do to stop it. his fingers felt too good, even if you didn’t want to admit it.

he continued with the bare minimum for what felt like forever, probably waiting on you to give in and beg him to fuck you. unfortunately for him, you would never do that. your will was much too strong to do something as desperate as that, and you were basking in enough humiliation as is; you’d never give up the single sliver of pride you had left.

it was rafe who broke first. he said nothing as the speed of his fingers increased, eyes focused on every scrunch of your nose and the whines that forced their way past your bitten lips. the heel of his hand kept making contact with your clit and it made you want to start crying again.

“such a pretty girl,” his eyes raked over your clothed body in satisfaction. something about you having to walk around in the same clothes that he turned you out in got him off, while it made you think about throwing them into a bonfire or burying them in the deepest part of your closet. “getting so wet and needy from me welting up her ass. i think you’re the pervert here, not me.”

“uh-uhn.” you protested the accusation immediately, reaching down the push rafe’s hand away weakly. he looked amused.

“you’re not?” the blonde moved back to stare at your cunt grooling all over his hand, fingers fucking the mess back inside over and over. “why are you so wet then?”

you didn’t have an answer to that. his fingers pulled out of you completely, using the wetness as more lubrication to spread over your swollen clit. the bucket of sparks in your stomach had long turned into a bubbling cauldron, and the attention to the needy button did nothing but make it burn hotter.

his fingers dipped back inside with much ease this time and you nearly died from the embarrassment. your brain was foggy yet defiant, but your body worked against you by welcoming everything rafe had to offer.

“no normal girl would get wet from shit like that. screaming and crying, beggin’ me to stop–but look,” rafe shook his head at you, eyes hot as he watched your frame twitch beneath his hands. “you’re squeezing down on my fingers like you want ‘em in there forever.“

he was right. you were screaming, you were crying, you were begging him to stop. now you’re letting him spread you open and getting wet when you should be screaming for him to get off of you.

what was wrong with you?

you had no time to think about that, not when he added a third finger without warning. a cry filled the air–yours–from the stretch. you were so full. he sped up again, too, treating you with little compassion as he watched ruined your sopping pussy with the thick appendages.

“so pathetic to be this wet for me,” he shook his head at you, lips pulled together in a pout. “you know it too. you should be ashamed.”

you were.

“you’re not even gonna stop me, look at your legs shaking.” he pointed out the way you couldn’t keep still.

he was right; you weren’t gonna stop him. you couldn’t.

the veins in his arms strained with each pump of his fingers, biceps bulging against the tight sleeves of his shirt. you could feel your juices dripping down your ass, your other hole fluttering in sync with the one being stuffed with three fingers. every part of your body was tingling and desperate to be touched, and you were rapidly losing control of yourself the closer rafe brought you to the edge.

he noticed it, too. the way you couldn’t stop clamping down around him, how you unconsciously ground into his palm, the dazed look in your eyes and the desperation in your voice as you lost the ability to hold back.

“look at you,” he said. his eyes were filled with lust, dark and glossed over as he observed your behavior. “ready to cum after putting up all that fight. dressed up in this tiny, little skirt; you were practically asking for this. so disgusting.”

your breath was uneven and you felt like you were going to pass out, mind dizzy and drunk with the forced pleasure. he showed no signs of letting up, digging you out with a fervor that you’d never experienced. the sound of your whining became higher pitched, tears pouring from your eyes as you tip-toed the cliff ahead of you.

“you’re about to cum, huh?” you nodded your head at him, eyes wide and wet with the lubrication. “yeah? you wanna cum?”

you screamed, but not for the reason you wanted to.

“no.” rafe pulled his fingers away right before you fell off the edge, leaving your hips bucking against the air as you were denied the release he was forcing upon you in the first place. “you’re not gonna cum unless i tell you to.”

you would have rolled your eyes and protested, but the feeling of his hand coming down against your bare pussy made you yelp. your clit jumped and your nipples were begging to be released from the constraints of your shirt, the pain giving you a kind of pleasure that you weren’t equipped to handle. he did it again, and again. he did it until you were fighting to push him away and close your legs.

“aw, does that hurt?” he pouted at you when you whimpered out some semblance of a ‘yes,’ which was rewarded with another slap. “good.”

it was agonizing; how deliciously painful it was. it was so much–too much. you were becoming dumb, all brain function replaced with the pulsing of your abused cunt. he continued to slap your clit, entranced by the way it twitched and your hole clenched around nothing.

“you want me to stop?” you couldn’t answer; you were too stunned to form a coherent sentence and it made you feel like an idiot. rafe took pleasure in that. “stupid girl, you can’t even say anything. so fucked out and easy for me.”

you were tempted to push him away and get yourself off, but even through your foggy brain you knew he’d never let you get the chance.

“need to taste this pussy…” he mumbled to himself, not caring if you heard or not.

he dropped to his knees with eyes still focused on you as he blew against your exposed clit, both thumbs spreading your lips open. he wasn’t worried about you trying to escape anymore; not really. it was clear you were too dazed to do much of anything but pant like a dog and take his abuse.

he finally gave you his tongue after waiting for you to whine for it, the wet muscle flattening against the whole of your sensitive core. the texture of the appendage on your clit had you writhing, legs trapped in his hold and prevented from clamping down around his head.

you trembled as he lapped up your wetness, grinding against his face as he buried himself deep into your wetness. he was like a man starved, licking up your arousal as it spilled out of you in an endless fountain. the plush pillows of his lips encapsulated your clit, sucking on it roughly as he brought his fingers back down to fuck you open.

your head fell back from the intensity, cries tumbling out of your mouth clumsily as he laved against your rosy bud.

everything was so wet.

“don’t you dare fucking cum.” rafe growled, pulling away from your pussy. his fingers kept going, but he kept his eyes on you now. it was impossible to ignore the way you pulsed around him. “i’m not gonna stop, so you better hold it.”

a broken wail left you and you wanted to curl into a ball. this was just as much of a punishment as being beaten with the belt in the corner, you were now discovering.

“please…” the rope in your stomach was being sawed in half by the second and you weren’t going to last much longer. “i can’t…”

he rose to his full height, staring down at your messy for; thighs covered in sticky precum with your skirt crumpled up at your waist. your skin was hot to the touch and covered in a thin layer of sweat, face wet with tears stains and eyes filled with lust fueled desperation. his fingers worked purposefully in the deepest parts of your pussy that you’d never been able to explore yourself.

“taking me so fuckin’ deep, princess.” he teased you with his words, his voice only adding difficulty to holding back from cumming all over his merciless fingers.

“rafe…” you couldn’t tell him off; not when you were getting so close, so fast.

“‘rafe…’” he mocked the pleading tone in your voice. ocean blue eyes flickered up towards your own, dark with arousal as he watched you squirm. “you sound so pathetic.”

you could feel your thighs tensing as you tried your best to hold back. you didn’t know what he would do if you came without permission, but it was getting hard to care. his fingers were hitting repeatedly against a spot that had you seeing white and holding your breath.

rafe let you stay like that for a while, desperately hanging on by a thread as he watched.

“okay,“ he said, head tilted to the side. “you can cum–but i’m not gonna give it to you.”

“rafe!” you yelped. he pulled his fingers out and delivered a final smack to your already abused clit, smirking at your reaction.

reaching up towards your face, rafe squished your cheeks together until your mouth was forced open. you audibly protested when he brought his wet fingers to your lips, the smell of your arousal invading all of your senses. your noises of defiance were ignored as he shoved the digits into your mouth. he coated your tongue with the wetness covering his fingers, fucking your mouth in the same way he used your other hole.

you couldn’t stop the saliva that fell from your mouth; it leaked down the sides of your face uncomfortably and you wanted to wipe it away.

“you can go home later, and rub that dirty little cunt to the memory of this.” you stared up at him wide-eyed, mouth stuffed and clit pulsating at the wanton actions being performed on you. “every time you pick out a skirt to wear, you’re gonna sit on that welted up ass and you’re gonna think about how wet you got from my belt tearing you up.”

he watched you shift uncomfortably on your bare, bruised behind, but showed you no pity.

the sting of it brought you back to reality, the weight of what just occurred finally coming to your clearer mind. rafe’s hand gripped your jaw and tilted it upwards to bring your attention back to him. the fear that you felt earlier bubbled back up.

your mouth was relieved from the violating digits grazing the back of your throat. wet fingers slapped against your cheek twice, not hard enough to leave a mark but enough to make you wince from the sting.

“still think you’re above me?” rafe asked, face lowering to just mere inches away from yours. you shook your head the best you could, jaw still under the steel grip of his hand. “you–you should be thanking me, really…i’m older than you, remember? your job is to respect your elders, and my job is to correct you.”

you say nothing; not that you could anyway. he lowered his hand, pulling it away from your jaw and resting it on the circumference of your exposed neck. the tall man hummed at you, head tilting to the side like a puppy as he observed your disheveled form beneath him.

“i did it so that nobody else has to, y/n. jus’ looking out for you like i’m supposed to–even though you don’t deserve it.“ you blinked at him, prompting the fingers lying limply at your neck to squeeze as a warning. “say ‘thank you, rafe.’ you can do that right? ‘thank you for looking out for stupid little girls like me.’”

you gulped away the part of you that wanted to spit out a curse at rafe, resistance vibrating deep in your bones. this had to be more humiliating than being spread out over his fingers, you thought.

“thank you, rafe.” the voice that came out sounded pained, and rafe could tell. he tutted at you, clearly dissatisfied.

“i don’t think you mean that…do you want the belt on your pussy this time?” his eyebrow quirked up at you, amused clear in his eyes as he watched your own widen in panic.

“no! no, i really mean it!”

his free hand landed between your legs again as it delivered the stinging punishment of his palm once more.

“then fucking act like it.” rafe snarled at you, the heat of your center against his taunting hand. “‘thank you for looking out for me, rafe. you’re so good to me.’ and you better fucking mean it.”

“thank you for looking out for me, rafe. you’re s’good to me!” you cried out weakly. rafe continued to slap at your achy clit with his flattened fingers, wordlessly telling you he wasn’t satisfied with your response. “i’m stupid ‘nd i don’t deserve–ah! i don’t deserve it. i’ll be nice, i promise!”

happy enough with your gratitude, he relented. he pulled his hand away from your quivering lower lips and stepped back, allowing your legs to fall shut and guard your crying, battered cunt from the cool air blowing against it from the ac.

“you’re welcome.”

you watch from your spot on the bed as rafe picks up your discarded underwear from the floor. he shoves the item in his pocket, leaving you bare with nothing to protect yourself. standing from your position on the mattress, your legs wobbled like a young doe before straightening themselves to their full length.

you’d never felt so violated, so defeated. what made it even worse was the way your body still tingled with need. the feeling was deep inside you, walls clamping down on the phantom of rafe’s manly fingers. he was right, and it brought a cloud of shame that rained down on you. the first thing you’d do when you got home is stuff yourself with your own and pretend they were his. every time you sat down and felt the sting of his punishment, you knew you’d leak just like you were right now.

how could you call him a creep, a pervert? how could you call him disgusting when you were the one making a mess all over him after being held down and beaten?

feelings of guilt weighed heavy on your chest. you could pretend that none of this ever happened, but rafe would never let you forget; there’s no way he’d ever let it go.

shaking away the thoughts plaguing your mind, you pulled yourself together the best you could. a hiss sounded out through the room as you pulled the skirt down from around your waist.

the last thing you wanted to know was how bad your ass and thighs looked, the raised skin evidence enough as it painfully rubbed against the fabric of your skirt. rafe opened the door of his bedroom in a swift motion to reveal an empty hallway, eyes staring pointedly at you. the sound of your swift feet echoed off the floor, legs carrying you the fastest that they possibly could without tripping over each other.

before you made it past the threshold, rafe snatched your arm up into his grip. he leaned down to meet you at eye level, closely examining the way your breathing hitched.

“and stay the fuck out of my room."

#this was perfection #the girlies got to bring this back

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