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#Dark OBX
singmyaubade · 3 months
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Shades Of Cool
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toxic!dark!rafe cameron x female!pogue!reader
summary: you are just living your life, completely normal and free. but, what happens when rafe cameron decides that you are his? he's danger.
warnings: smut! 18+ stalking, manipulation, rafe is obsessed with reader, fingering, swearing, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink, praise, oral (male receiving), dark!rafe cameron, choking, jealousy, violence, heavy smut..
a/n: i'm delighted I'm finally starting this, even if it took me so long. i genuinely hope you all enjoy this series. i understand that this a bit short, but the narrative is only getting started, so things will only get wilder! however, it is to be expected—this is a rafe cameron fic.
series
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One thing that you hated about Outer Banks was how the heat still radiated at night, causing excessive amounts of water to be drank and a great amount of fans that blew hot air into your face.
It only made everyone irritable and only caused more arguments like now,
"I swear to god JJ, I am about to fucking murder you if you say another word," You hissed, giving him a glare as he mockingly grew scared.
"I agree," Cleo said before falling back into her nap.
"All I'm saying is that we have been moping around here for hours meanwhile we could be partying on the fresh beach and cool water," JJ replied, using his hands to represent the scenery to all of you.
"I'm going to have to agree with Y/N," Pope said, turning his head to JJ, "I'm already in tough shit with my parents for when you knocked over my great-grandmothers vase," Pope glared.
JJ put his hands up in defense, "I told you tequila makes me clumsy,"
"Besides every single Kook is there, including Rafe and if he sees Sarah with us, it will only bring another fight and you are not going back to jail," Kie warned, still closing her eyes while the fan blew the air in her face, blowing her hair.
"When have we ever been scared of Rafe?" JJ asked.
"When he gave me a full smackdown for doing my job," Pope scoffed.
"And when he almost drowned me," Sarah chimed in from across the room where she was laying on John B's legs on the carpet floor.
"And when he shot Sheriff Peterkin in front of us," John B added.
"And when-" Pope began.
"Okay that's enough," He said as you giggled, turning your head back to the fan.
You didn't know much about Rafe Cameron since you had moved to Outer Banks only last year and you had met the "star Pogues" a few months ago.
You had never really seen Rafe's face ever, only heard of him honestly.
But you didn't know if it was a bad thing.
All you had heard about was how evil and villainous he was which caused some places to be off limits for the fact that the boys couldn't handle another beat down with the Kooks and there was a greater matter at hand.
But still, you always were curious about "evil" Rafe Cameron.
"You guys are no fun," JJ pouted, sitting beside you on the couch.
You patted the lower part of his leg, "Poor baby," You sarcastically said to which moved his leg swiftly causing you to laugh.
Suddenly the lights and fans turned off as you all except for JJ groaned, knowing that meant the electricity was off you and you would have to deal with the heat and darkness.
Which meant the only choice was the beach party,
JJ cheered, "I win!"
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You crossed your arms as you walked on the warm sand, lots of cheering and loud music around you. You could see the Kooks and the Pogues in their own groups, not daring to interact with eachother.
It was hard to get used to the fact that there were two groups of people based on economic statuses and that it meant that if you were one thing, the other one hated you.
You had never been to a place like that but you just kinda got used to it.
Yet you still could never tell which group was really which sometimes.
You were forced to walk around by yourself as John B and Sarah wandered off to a quiet spot while JJ started drinking with Kie as his babysitter and Cleo and Pope wandered around.
All of it sounded like a lot of third wheeling which made you stay away.
But you didn't mind being alone, you liked listening to the waves and watching the festivities that went along with a party.
And you knew that a beer would help you get more into the party festivities.
You walked over the keg where a man with a shaved head and a matching tank top and shorts poured himself a beer as you curiously looked at him.
You had to admit that he was one of the most attractive men you had seen before.
His lips were a perfect shade of pink and they were smooth like sucking on a cherry. His veins were bulging from his hands and you could see the peach fuzz on his jawline that you could only really see upclose.
You snapped out of your analysis as he looked at you as you waited there awkwardly, forming a smile on your face.
"Sorry to creepily stand here, I'm just trying to get a uh-" You said, pointing to the keg.
His face studied you for a second, almost as if he was trying to figure you out. You could tell by his face that he had never seen you before and he looked as if he was trying to figure out if you were a Kook or Pogue.
He chuckled, "Didn't mean to take so long, I wouldn't have if I had seen your pretty face sooner," He smirked, looking you up and down, causing you to blush.
You felt stupid for blushing over something that a man probably said to every pretty girl he saw but you felt something different about him.
You were taken aback by his boldness, "Do you say that to every women that waits for her turn on the keg?" You teased.
"Only the pretty ones," He replied, causing you to laugh.
"Smooth talker I see," You smiled.
"Always," He joked, "I swear I've never seen you around and usually, you know everyone in Outer Banks," He probed.
"Yeah, I just moved here last year," You answered, "I haven't made my rounds yet,"
"Figured," He said, "I would've definitely noticed you,"
"Pfft," You beamed, "I'm sure you would've walked past me on the beach, there are many beautiful girls here,"
"Nah," He laughed, looking off, "You are different from them,"
"How could you already assume that?" You asked, curiosity biting at you.
"For one, you aren't stuck up and preppy which is most the girls on this island," He grinned as you giggled.
"Ay, they aren't all like that," You replied.
"Most of 'em," He added, "But I don't pay much attention to them,"
"Figures," You said, eyebrow raising.
He saw your eyes move the keg and his cup before he offered his cup forward.
"Might as well take mine, I wouldn't feel proud of myself if I let you pour one yourself," He winked.
Great attempt at being a gentlemen.
"No no, I got it," You said before he shook his head.
"I insist" He said, his thumb grazing yours.
"Thank you," You smiled, "I'm Y/N" You introduced, taking the cup from him while extending your other hand for him to shake.
He shook your hand, "I'm Rafe," He replied with a smile as yours slowly fell.
The Rafe? The Rafe you were basically supposed to never interact with and who was the supposed devil? That Rafe?
"Rafe Cameron?" You asked, standing frozen.
"Guess my reputation precedes me," He joked as you didn't laugh but instead cleared your throat.
You took your hand back quickly, "Oh, i-it's nice to meet you," You cleared your throat, "My friends are waiting so I'm gonna-"
He clearly figured you out, "Pogue, I'm guessing?" He snickered.
Your face wrinkled, "Is that supposed to be a funny thing?"
"Hilarious actually," He answered, only angering you more.
"I don't see what's funny about that?" You crossed your arms with ur drink resting in your hand.
He wiped his jaw, "Must be tough at the bottom of the food chain,"
Your nose flared, "Must be tough being an elite asshole,"
He laughed, "I just think it's an unfortunate cause, I mean it's just unlucky," He smirked.
Asshole.
"Unlucky?" Your lip pursed, " I think what's more unlucky is thinking that your cool for a fucked up economic status that has been perpetuated on an island,"
"I just don't believe your friends belong on Outer Banks," He said, not a hint of hesitance in his voice.
He really believed in this bullshit.
"I mean you would really rather hang out with a group of dirty Pogues?" He snickered, looking off.
"Well I am one of them and they are my friends," You scoffed, "You seem more dirty than us," You insulted.
"Is that so?" Rafe mocked.
"Do you wanna talk about your father's dirty money?" You asked.
"I would watch that pretty mouth," He replied, inching closer.
"Or what?" You hummed, acting braver than you usually would.
"Fuck around and find out sweetheart," He came closer, breath fawning on your face.
The whiskey on his breath kissed your nose but not breaking your eye contact with him as you inched closer, eyes on his lips.
As he tried to close the gap, you threw the drink in his face. "Oohs" and snickers filled around the both of you as you stomped away from him.
He smirked, wiping the alcohol off of his face.
'What an asshole,' You thought,
Little did you know that Rafe only grew to like you more.
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You found JJ and Kie sitting by the beach together as she laid her head on his shoulder. You were thinking about interrupting them but tarnish their moment, you choosing instead to call it a night and also you didn't feel like trying to find the rest of the group.
You were glad that you knew yourself enough to drive to the party considering that you got tired fast. You couldn't really see in the parking lot due to how dark it was and away from the lights.
You digged in your back pocket for your phone to pull out of the flashlight as you reached for your keys but dropped them instead in the process.
You audibly groaned as you searched on the floor in the darkness for the keys. You went on your knees with your flashing light, searching on the ground as you heard footsteps behind you, darting your flashlight behind you but seeing nothing.
You had a bad feeling but you thought it was paranoia because you were alone in the parking lot and maybe a little due to the interaction you had earlier with Rafe.
You couldn't stop thinking about how he came off as nice but switched so quickly into an elitist piece of shit.
Sounds like how they described him.
But still, there was a pit in your stomach that felt like butterflies when he grazed your thumb.
You sighed, pushing the thoughts out as you finally grabbed your keys, using the concrete-sanded floor push yourself back up off the ground.
Suddenly, you felt a cloth on your mouth and a hand covering your waist as your muffled screams filled the parking lot, trying to kick your attacker behind you.
You felt yourself drifting into the darkness as you screamed one last time,
And everything went black.
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tags: @hysteriahall @avengersassemblee @lighttism @whereismymindnow @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @vi06ma01 @haven247 @vanessa-rafesgirl @blvebanisters @riordanness @aleidag1rly @muzanjackson22
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oceandriveab · 3 months
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pink sundress
dark!rafe x innocent!reader
based on: this ask!!!
cw: rough p in v sex , fingering, manipulation/coercion (DUBCON), slight sir kink (GOODBYE I HAD TO), degradation (rafe calls r a slut like twice), i think that’s it??
a/n: ok everyone please be nice bc this is my first time writing smut😭😭 i think it’s goooooood though and i’m excited to hear what y’all think! i actually worked really hard on this (like i deadass did research😭😭) and also got a bit carried away bc it’s 1.7k words but i’m very proud of it so i hope u all enjoy!!! anon bae i hope u love it and thank u so so much for ur request <3!!!!! and @sugarcoatedstarkey THANK YOOOUUU for helping me when i got stuck and for beta reading🥹💐💐💐<3
you swiped one more layer of chapstick on before turning your car off and hopping out. you walked through the front door of tannyhill, slipped your shoes off, and made your way up the stairs and into rafe’s bedroom. 
he met you at the door, opening it swiftly just as you were going to knock. 
“hey angel.” he pulled you into a hug and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, making you giggle.
“hey rafey.” you smiled as he stepped back to admire you. it was a particularly hot day in the outer banks, so you decided to wear the pink sundress rafe bought you recently. you loved the way it fit and how good it made your boobs look without a bra. 
by the way he was scanning over your body, almost hungrily, you could tell that rafe liked the dress, too. 
“do you like it?” you asked, gesturing to yourself with a smile. “it’s the one you just bought me.” 
“i-um-yeah.” rafe cleared his throat before he continued talking. “yeah baby, looks good on you.” 
a blush crept onto your cheeks as he pulled you in again, peppering kisses along your jaw and neck. 
his hands roamed all over your body as he kissed you. he slipped his hands under your dress and squeezed your hips harshly before moving up to cup your breasts. you gasped when you felt his rough hands on the soft skin. 
“rafe!” you tried to pull away, but he quickly moved his hands back to your hips and brought you closer to him. 
he walked you backwards to the bed and laid you down, his blue eyes growing dark as he towered over you. 
“come on, angel. you’ve been making me wait for months, and then you show up to my house, when its just us, wearing this?” rafe leans back, his eyes hungrily scanning over your body before leaning back in. you gulp at the feeling of his breath fanning your face. “and you think i’m just going to let you? that i’m not going to make you wish you’d worn something else?” 
“I…I…” you place both hands on his chest and try to push him off of you, but its no use. rafe is much stronger than you and his body is practically pinning you to the bed already. he laughs lowly and, before you know it, he’s got both of your wrists in one hand and raises them above your head. 
his grip is tightening and you’re squirming underneath him with tears slowly streaming down your face, but, again, he doesn’t budge. 
“hey, hey, stop.” rafe looks at you with furrowed eyebrows, like he can’t believe you’re actually fighting him-fighting this. “i do so much for you. i buy you anything you want. i take you on all these fancy dates and trips, and you can’t give me this one thing?” he drags his hand up your thigh, bunching your dress at your hip, before he speaks again. “don’t you want to make me happy? make me feel good?”
your mind raced as you thought about what he was saying- what he was asking of you. he did spoil you to no end, buying you whatever you wanted and letting you take his card when you went shopping with your friends. he did take you to the fanciest restaurants and he’d even taken you to his family’s house in the bahamas. he’d never asked for much in return, just for you to love and be loyal to him, and, of course, this. 
and, when you thought about it, was it really that much? after all he’s done for you, was it really too much for rafe to ask you to give yourself up to him? to let him be the one to take your virginity? 
you sniffled before answering him. “of course i do-”
“so give me this. show me how much you love me.” 
“i’m just…i’m scared, rafe, and i don’t know if i’m ready.” 
“nothing to be scared of, baby girl.” 
before you could object further, rafe was kissing you roughly and snatching your panties down your legs. 
his lips moved from your jaw to your neck, nipping harshly at the sensitive skin. 
while rafe’s mouth was busy peppering kisses up and down your body, his hands were hiking your dress up and over your head. he paused briefly once you were completely naked, his dark eyes raking over your bare figure 
he knelt inbetween your legs and hooked his arms around your thighs, snatching you towards him. before you could process what was happening, rafe buried his face in your already dripping cunt, his tongue devouring your clit like man starved. 
your back arched off the mattress as you gasped with pleasure. when you felt him insert a finger into you, your heels dug into his shoulders- the overwhelming feeling causing you to subconsciously move away from him. 
this only caused him to grab your hip with his free hand, dragging you back to him. 
“don’t fucking run from me.” he growled against your clit, the vibrations forcing a moan from your lips. 
“r-rafe, ‘s too much.” tears were streaming down your face as you spoke. 
he chuckled as he finally pulled his face away from your throbbing heat. 
“baby, we’re just getting started.” he returned to his position, his fingers and tongue making you dizzy. 
‘just getting started?’ you thought to yourself. if this was just getting started, you weren’t sure how you’d react to whatever else he had planned. your head was already spinning just from his fingers and mouth. 
“i’m-ah-’m…rafe!” you whined as the coil in your stomach strained tighter and tighter, waiting to be released. 
“yeah? you wanna cum?” he spoke, his raspy voice sending you into orbit. 
you nodded furiously. “yes! p-please!” 
rafe pulled his face away from you, his dark eyes staring directly into yours as he spoke. “hmm, i dunno, baby. you don’t really sound like you want to. why don’t you beg some more?” 
his fingers curled inside of you while he watched you, waiting to hear you beg for your release.
“please, rafe! i-i’m so close!” your back arched off the mattress again as his fingers worked their magic inside of you while he rubbed circles on your clit with his thumb and palmed himself through his shorts with his free hand. 
“come for me, princess. come on my fingers.” 
one more harsh rub on your clit and you came completely undone- your body jerking and your legs shaking as you came on rafe’s fingers. he fingered you through your orgasm, his dick growing painfully hard in his shorts at the way your walls squeezed his fingers. 
your mind was still racing when rafe stood up and placed his fingers in your open mouth while using his free hand to slide out of his shorts and boxers. he knelt in between your legs again and, without even giving you time to breathe, your legs were thrown over his shoulders and his hips slammed against yours as he rammed his dick inside you. 
you gasped at the sudden intrusion and your hands flew to his back, your freshly manicured nails searing into his skin as he thrusted into you. 
“fuck..” rafe threw his head back, groaning at the intense pleasure he was feeling between your pussy clenching around him and your almond shaped nails digging into his back. 
“this was what you wanted, huh? showing up in that tiny dress- practically begging me to fuck you like the slut you are.” 
“i…” you couldn’t find the answer he was looking for, as his pace had your mind all foggy, your vision blurry with tears. 
“answer me.” he grabbed your jaw roughly, forcing you to look at him as his hips rutted into yours- the sound of panting and skin slapping together filling his large bedroom. 
“yes! god, yes! y-yes sir!” your eyes rolled back in your head, too caught up to notice the way he twitched inside of you after calling him that. 
that, along with the way you were taking him so well and squeezing around him, your body telling him that you were close, was enough to give him the adrenaline boost he needed, picking up speed as he fucked you deeper into the mattress. 
“ra-fuck-” you breathed out. “rafe, i’m-”
“you wanna cum again, princess?” he asked, his fingers now digging into the soft skin on your hips as he held himself up. 
“mhm..” you moaned out. 
“come on then. be a good girl and ask me.” his eyes met yours, almost causing you to come undone immediately. his ocean blue eyes were now black and a thin sheen of sweat covered his skin, sticking his hair to his forehead. 
“rafe, please!” 
“yeah, come on, doll. make a mess all over my dick like the slut you are.”
and make a mess you did. your back arched off the bed, toes curling as you screwed your eyes shut. 
“uh uh, look at me. look at me while you’re cumming so you know it’s me whos making you feel this good. me, my dick, that’s ruining this tight pussy.”
you opened your eyes and held eye contact with rafe as he fucked you out of your high and into his. he let out a string of breathy “fuck”s and “Y/N”s as he released thick ropes of cum into you. once rafe finally rode out his orgasm, he pulled out of you and flopped onto the bed beside you, pulling you on top of him. 
your chests seemed to move in sync as the two of you struggled to catch your breath. you rested your head on your hands as you looked at rafe. he brushed your hair away from your forehead and planted a soft kiss to your lips. when he pulled away, he simply stared at you for a minute, causing you to giggle. 
“what?” you asked, tilting your head to the side. 
“gonna buy you that dress in every fucking color.”
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rvfecamerons · 6 months
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》 RED & BLUE — rafe cameron x reader
{ main masterlist }
word count — 3.7k
warnings — MDNI; dark!rafe, cop!rafe, aged up!rafe & reader, swearing, smut, oral, mentions of bullying kinda, degradation, humiliation, slapping, slut-shaming, slight voyeurism, lmk if i’m missing anything?? (NOT PROOFREAD BTW BARE W ME)
a/n — rafe and reader are both aged up in this fic!! it takes place a number of years after hs, you can decide how long :) also I HURRIED THRU THIS SO FAST i just wanted to get it done ok and yall know i’m new to smut so i tried to hurry thru it so dont judge pls be nice ty <3 likes are appreciated, reblogs & comments make my whole life worth living pls <3 also these pics have me sooo…..
summary — you get pulled over by the infamous Officer Cameron on your way home one night, and he has his own solution to keeping you out of trouble ;)
Rafe could hardly keep his eyes open. He was on the tail end of his shift, and tired was an understatement.
When he joined the police academy after his dad’s death, Rafe’s only goal was to seize power over the town that ostracized him, authority over those who counted him out, spoke ill of him, pogues and kooks alike. No one was ever fair to him in this washed up town, why should he be fair to them?
And that power he felt when he put on his uniform everyday, consumed him.
His whole life, he’d already felt like he could go anywhere, do anything he wanted. That feeling only amplified when he became a police officer.
…And yet, here he was, stuck on the night shift in all its glory. Citing minor traffic violations, surveillancing random parking lots… nothing like what he’d envisioned.
Though he was much older now, Rafe was still the main subject of the town’s conversations.
The oldest Cameron never married. He didn’t have any kids. And good thing, because rumors were constantly flying around the island about his… corrupt tendencies.
Rafe wasn’t doing anything crazy. No money laundering, no getting high in the evidence lockerroom… No, not that kind of corrupt.
But let’s just say, women didn’t need to worry as much if Officer Cameron was the one greeting them at their window during a traffic stop. They’d heard enough to know Rafe could be easily…persuaded to grant freedom.
A young Rafe never did well around girls. And as years went on, an older Rafe obviously still never learned how to do well with women, either…
But he tried with you. For years. You never missed the way he wasn’t scared to break eye contact if you caught him staring at you in class. Or the way he would always come wandering onto the school track during your cheer practices. He would leave notes on your locker, and somehow even managed to leave a boquet of roses inside of it one time, too.
Rafe Cameron was always known for being a bit…unstable. He was rich, handsome, athletic, but he could never hold a friendship, or a relationship for that matter. Not many people associated with him, unless they were talking about him.
So, when you discovered his desire for you, you were honestly…embarassed. You felt sorry for him, but you wouldn’t be the one to commit social suicide by being seen with him.
And Rafe didn’t forget.
You never paid him the time of day in high school. But he had the upperhand now.
He was posted up at a gas station when he noticed a black car struggling to stay in the lanes as it trekked down the main road. He’d almost missed it for the broken tail light in the back.
One thing he learned from his superiors? Only 2 kinds of people were out at this time of night: drug dealers and cops. He was the cop, so this car must have been the ladder.
Rafe let the car get a reasonable distance before easing out of the lot. He took note of the liscense plate, entering it into the laptop at his side.
There was a spark of interest in his eyes as the search results yielded a name he knew all too well.
Y/N Y/L/N.
“No shit…” he mumbled to himself. What were the odds?
All of the memories from high school came flooding back. How could he forget? Young Rafe had spent many years pining after you in school, but you were just as big of a kook as he was, always thinking you were too good, too smart, too stable for the boy who’s reputation preceeded him.
Your name was followed by another line, listing off an old charge. ‘Posession of a controlled substance, schedule II.’
Fucking kooks and their drug habits, he mentally cursed. As he didn’t also fit the description.
He moused over a small icon, and your mugshot filled the screen. You were barely 18 when you caught the charge, Rafe easily able to identify the familiar features he’d spent countless nights obsessing over senior year, specifically.
His pupils were surely blown as he gawked down at the screen.
Rafe still found beauty in the even, empty look on your face on what was likely one of the worst nights of your teenage life. The way your brows were knitted together, the way you tried to force the corners of your lips to tug upwards, even though you were probably terrified of what came after processing, at that point.
Part of him would enjoy hauling you off to jail, his mind quick to draw up a scenario in his head.
You’d probably beg him to stop as he tightened the cuffs on you, an instrument he loved to use in the bedroom. Using them at work, on attractive women was just a plus.
The thought of such a pretty girl, scared, cold, probably shaking inside of a tiny cell was enticing. Ruining your night, bringing back your expunged record with a felony would be the perfect payback for how bitchy you were to him in high school.
Making you relive another processing, another night in a place you probably vowed never to return to, as most do. He hears it all the time.
But he also sees those same people come thru the station again and again.
So he decided to throw his lights on.
As your brake lights lit up, Rafe brandished a tiny bag of cocaine, examining it in the palm of his hand before tucking it away in his pocket. Collateral, if he felt the need to use it.
At the same time, the red and blue lights had your breath hitching in your throat. You fetched your own small stash from the middle console and shoved it into your front pocket, making the split decision that the officer would hopefully be male, who would probably check the car before you, since you’re a female.
You kept your hands tight on the wheel as you watched the officer near your car in the side mirror, only moving a hand to roll down the window when he tapped on the glass.
“Evening, miss,” the deep voice filled the nervous silence in your car, as did the light he shined around.
The flash in your eyes left you blinded for a second, prompting you to raise a hand to shield your face.
“Hi officer, is there something wrong?” Maybe he hadn’t noticed your swerving.
“Uh, yeah, I was gonna say you were swerving around back there…” He noticed. “but now I’m a little more interested in what I’m smelling.” The flashlight pryed further into the car.
Shit. You mentally cursed yourself. You really wished you hadn’t smoked that blunt in your car on break yesterday.
“You been smoking some weed in here tonight miss?”
You were already shaking your head vigorously before he could even finish his question, “No, no, officer. Not at all.”
His only response was leaning a bit further into the car to inspect more.
A long pause ensued, before, “You mind stepping out real quick f’me?”
Fuck. “You can turn the car off, too.” Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Reluctantly, you moved to open the door, greeted by the cool autumn air as your feet planted on the concrete.
It was only when you rose to your feet that you realized exactly who had pulled you over. “Rafe…? Rafe Cameron?”
He responded by swinging your driver door shut.
You couldn’t even believe the way the tables had turned now. You instantly thought of all the times you shut him down, been snappy with him, made jokes with your friends at his expense.
As he towered above you now, you noticed how much bigger he really was than you. His muscles practically threatened to pop the seams of the uniform hugging his biceps.
“Just keep your hands where I can see em’,” His voice pulled you from your fantasy, and you pulled your arms above your head and slowly stepped out of the way.
“We don’t have any females on duty right now, so I’m gonna have to search you. I’ll just check your pockets though,” Shit.
“O-okay…” You waited for your next instruction.
“Go ahead and turn around, face the car.” You slowly did as you were told, though part of you wanted to grab the bag and toss it somewhere.
“Hands up here,” he patted the hood of your car, and you placed your hands where he’d instructed.
You couldn’t see him now, but you could feel his presence towering behind you.
A single foot placed inbetween yours startled you, kicking at your left foot gently, “Spread your legs f’me, miss.”
His words sent chills up your spine. You did as he said, parting your legs against the better interest of the growing uncomfortableness between your thighs.
You fought the urge to clamp them shut again as he began dipping his hands into your jacket pockets first.
Coming up empty, he felt around your back pockets next, before his fingers slithered their way into the one pocket you’d hoped he’d somehow slip over.
“Hmm…” You stared at your feet and tried to keep from shaking at the nervousness you felt.
Rafe’s hands resurfaced, now holding the small bag of cocaine. Wow. Look at that…he didn’t even have to plant his own bag on you, you’d done it for him.
“What’s this, miss?” Your mouth was dry, and you were almost shaking from fear at this point. Even if it wasn’t a significant amount, any amount was still illegal, and it only made it worse that Rafe Cameron was the one to pull you over and find it.
“I-I don’t…” you didn’t even know what to say. “Rafe, that’s not mine, I swear.”
He placed the bag on top of the car. “It’s sir, or Officer Cameron.” He corrected. You swallowed hard, and the next thing you felt was a large hand encompassing one of your wrists, drawling it behind your back.
“No! No, wait, please,” you felt the cold metal locking in place despite your pleas.
“Relax, you’re just being detained right now,” His words didn’t encourage relaxation at all. You’d seen enough bodycam videos on Youtube to know what always comes after ‘being detained’.
“Sir, please,” your voice cracked as you spoke. “I-I’ve never been in trouble before.” You could feel the tears threatening to fall now.
You mentally cursed again as he brought your other hand behind your back, securing it in the metal cuff.
“Fuck…” you muttered, eyes closed as you replayed everything you should’ve done differently tonight.
“Never been in trouble before, hmm?” You dared to lift your head in his direction, peering over your shoulder only to find his eyes raking over your figure. His hands released your now binded ones.
All at once, Rafe took a harsh grip on your hair, forcing you up against the door of the car, his hard chest pressing into your back as he tilted your head up.
“You wanna lie to me again, hmm? I ran your plates. Not surprised to find coke on you.”
The seizing of your hair only heightened the warm sensation between your legs, almost too much to bare as a loud gasp left your mouth.
You pulled at the cuffs, gauging how tight they were. And yeah, they were fucking tight.
You hated to admit it, but the situation at hand was actually… turning you on? Rafe was attractive, you couldn’t lie. You could almost make out the feel of his bulge in his pants, right underneath his utility belt.
“Y’know a little baggie of coke can easily be a misdemeanor…” You could hardly focus on his words with the way his knee was rutting inbetween your legs.
“But two bags? That’s intent to distribute. And that’s…” He leaned into your ear to whisper intently, “that’s a felony if I ever seen one.”
Suddenly you were on the move, being dragged by Rafe’s iron grip on your arms. “Wait, wait where are we going?” You asked.
“You’re going to jail, sweetheart.” He clarified, as if it was obvious. Which, you guessed it should’ve been. You’d thought maybe he would let you off the hook though, especially given all the stories you’d heard about him.
“No! No, please, I-“ you planted your feet on the concrete, trying to stop the inevitable walk of shame to the cop car.
Rafe’s grip tightened on your arm, his second hand jumping down to hold the chain inbetween your cuffs again. “What? You resisting now? Because we can throw another charge on there, I don’t mind-“
“No! Sir, no, I-I’m not resisting. I just…isn’t there something I can… do?” You weren’t even sure what you were getting at with the question, deciding to leave it up to him to determine.
He looked at you with a deepened interest, now. Rafe couldn’t help but revel in the fact that you’d been the one to set his plan into motion, instead of him. He jolted your arm roughly, spinning your body so your shoulder was pressed into his chest, eyes able to see him now.
He chuckled darkly at your question. “Are you trying to bribe an officer?” Fuck, was he not into it? You started to worry you’d dug an even deeper hole of trouble for yourself.
You stood in silence. “Are you asking if you can do something to get out of these?” You winced as he squeezed the cuffs tighter.
You couldn’t speak, too embarassed to. You simply stared up at him.
“You look like you’d slut yourself out to stay outta trouble,” It was only then that you noticed his wild eyes scanning over your body, flushed with a dark lust.
The comment should’ve brought you shame. And you did feel shameful, humiliated, even. But above all else, you felt…aroused.
Rafe brought a large hand up to your shoulder, pushing down with enough force to encourage you to drop to your knees. You did so one at a time, since you didn’t have your hands to help you.
The concrete tore into your skin, but you ignored it, eyes trained on the officer in front of you.
Rafe never took his eyes off of you as his hands made their way to his belt. “Gonna suck my cock? Hmm?” He spoke lowly. You swallowed hard, nodding your head.
A large palm mended over the growing tightness in his pants as he tilted his head menacingly. “Yeah? You gonna whore yourself out to me just to stay outta jail?”
You offered him the sweetest, most innocent look you could muster. Your eyes were already teary from the fear you were feeling, only adding to the show for Rafe. You nodded again.
You were almost taken aback by the sudden sharp, repeated stings left on your cheek. You dropped your jaw at the feeling of his cold rings coming into contact with your skin.
“Speak up,” he ordered. “Use your words.” He was amusing himself, you could tell. Still, you nodded up at him again.
“Y-yes.”
“Yeah? Good girl,” You pinched your thighs together at the praise rolling off of his lips.
His cock sprang to life on his stomach, settling just underneath his bellybutton. You almost drooled at the sight.
He took his length in his hand, pumping slowly at first, eyes never leaving you. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips, gliding slowly across your bottom one and eliciting a low grown from Rafe.
“Come here,” he drew you closer by the hair of your head, and you let your jaw fall slack as he lined his cock up with your mouth.
He didn’t bother easing in, letting you work it with your tongue and get it nice and wet first. Rafe simply started with a harsh thrust into your mouth, hips snapping against your face right off the bat.
You choked and sputtered as he drilled into your mouth, a mix of salivia and his salty juices dripping down your chin and coating your thighs as he encouraged you to, “Take it… open up, you can take it all. Mhmm…”
His pants had dropped somewhere between his hips and his knees, the instruments lining it digging into the flesh of your chest as he continued using your face for his own pleasure.
You were too embarassed to stare up at him, only stealing enough glances to know that Rafe had his head tilted back, eyes closed for the majority of your act. He still kept a hand in your hair though, leverage to keep him upright even as his legs threatened to buckle beneath him.
Part of you felt a pang of insecurity, wondering if his lack of eye contact was because you were simply another one of the trashy girls who sucked off the infamous officer for a get-out-of-jail-free card.
Rafe’s eyes were shut for an entirely different reason, though. He was busy revelling the fact that he was finally getting a taste of what he’d pined after for so long. Finally able to make his imaginations, the fantasies he had about you, a reality.
It wasn’t long before he was coming undone in front of you, legs shaking as he finished inside your mouth, pulling out with a pop.
The road was empty. Rafe used his grip on your hair to pull you to your feet, his other hand immediately wrapping around your arm to lead you to his cruiser. He threw the door open, and you fully expected him to usher you inside.
Instead, he used the hold on your cuffed wrists to lift your arms up and effectively bend you over the backseat. He pressed your face into the cloth. As uncomfortable as this new position was, it beat subjecting your knees to the gravel in the road, and you knew this was the price to pay for your freedom. You just hoped he would follow through with his end of the deal when it was all said and done.
But Rafe wasn’t even thinking about what he was going to do after he fucked you. His brain was already short-circuiting at the mere sight of your dripping cunt on display as he bent you over in front of him.
“God, you’re fucking soaked…” He used two fingers to swipe up your folds, gathering some of your sweet juice before bringing it to his tongue.
He groaned around his fingers in his mouth. The way your ass brushed up against his dick perfectly, the way your back arched even in the compromising position, drovr him crazy. He loved your mouth, and couldn’t wait to feel the rest of you.
“Don’t move.” He spoke harshly. You could feel the tip of his cock grazing your slick center, undoubtedly preparing to slide in.
You held your breath, muscles tensing when his head finally broke through your walls. “Relax, relax…” Rafe coaxed behind you, his own breathing labored as he struggled to keep himself together.
He let out a low grunt when he finally managed to slide all the way in, hips snapping into yours harshly.
He kept one hand on your binded wrists while another pressed your face into the seat, hips relentlessly driving into the quick mess he’d made of your core.
“You like that?” You whimpered at his question, your moans making the answer quite obvious. “Yeah? Y’like getting cuffed and fucked by an officer just to stay outta trouble? Hmm?”
The moan that escaped your lips at the embarassing question filled the car. “Yes, Rafe, yes…oh my god,”
Rafe reached around and delivered a swift slap to your face from behind, correcting your use of his name. “What was that?”
“Y-yes, yes sir.” You arched your back more at a particularlly rough thrust, and took the opportunity to peer over your shoulder, eyes drinking in the sight where your two bodies connected.
“Look at me,” Rafe ordered, but your neck could only comfortably crane so far up as he held you down on the seat.
Rafe noticed, and snaked an arm around your throat, bicep pressing into your airway as he lifted you up, lodging even deeper inside of you as you straightened yourself out against him.
“Look at me,” He repeated, breathlessly.
He pulled his arm back, subsequently tilting your head back too. He lowered his lips down to the side of your face, teeth nibbling slightly on your ear as he continued subjecting you to a brutal pace.
You were trying hard to fight the coiling you felt building in your stomach, your walls already clenching slightly around Rafe’s cock. “Gonna cum for me?” It took everything not to unwind at that very question.
“Go ahead baby, come apart on my cock. I’m right behind you,” The intensity at which Rafe pounded into you picked up as he chased his second high, and you neared your first.
Your legs shook as Rafe’s load shot deep into you, his hips continuing to drill into yours, making sure you got every last drop.
When he finally pulled out, he was sweating, panting, hands even shaking as he pulled his pants back up, securing his belt around his waist.
All the while, you’re still bent over the backseat of his car, a mix of both of your juices leaking from your dripping cunt and onto his seat. You were nervous to move, unsure of what would happen next.
You jumped slightly as Rafe pulled you upright again, hands immediately reaching down to release you from the uncomfortable metal bracelets.
“I get off in a couple hours…” Rafe’s voice trailed off as your eyes fell to your red wrists, indents from the tight cuffs still very much present. You mended them over, softly caressing the irritated skin with your hand, moving back and forth between the two.
A sudden, harsh grip on your jaw pulled you from your thoughts. Rafe peered down at you, eyes still full of lust as he warned, “I’ve got your address. Go home and get ready for me.”
Even though Rafe encouraged you to use your words, you still felt like nodding was your safest bet.
He slammed the door of his cruiser, turning to head back to the driver’s seat before he turned back to add, “Oh, and get rid of that weed smell in your car if you’re gonna be driving it.” He taunted.
With that, he disappeared behind the dark tints as quickly as the door slammed shut. He was already speeding off before you’d even mustered a step back towards your car.
Your eyes fell back down to your wrists, then back up at the police car descending into the distance.
Even with the handcuffs removed, the threat of jail no longer looming over your head…you knew you were still in for a long night.
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stepbrorafe · 13 days
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Movie Night - RC
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summary : a sleepover w stepbro rafe takes a turn
warnings : swearing, stepcest, somnophilia(dubcon?), fingering, oral, idk idk
a/n : my first lil fic type deal on this acc :) feel free to send in reqs or comment opinions or just talk to me <3
⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚
“What?” Rafe’s deep voice called out from the other side of the door.
You slowly twist the knob, pushing the door open, eyes instantly meeting his bare back as he leaned over his bed.
“I said ‘what’, I didn’t say come-“ He starts, cutting himself off as he turns to you.
You sheepishly smile, “Sorry, I was just wondering if you wanted to maybe have a movie night?”
His eyebrows furrowed together, confusion plastering itself across his face. Your smile slightly falters as he doesn’t respond for a moment.
“Where’s Sarah and Wheezie?” He questions, as they’re who you usually hang out with.
“Wheezie’s sleeping, Sarah’s where she always sneaks off to anymore.” You mumble, “Just figured maybe me and you could have a sleepover or something. It’s okay though.”
He’d be lying if he said he doesn’t want to have a movie night with you. He’d be lying if he said he doesn’t want even more than that. He absolutely loves whenever you’re around, yet he hates it at the same time.
He can’t help but drink in the way you move, the way you speak, the way you seem so innocent yet so naughty. In all honesty, his believing you have a naughty side is purely delusional. You’ve done nothing of the sort to incline you’re anything but innocent. Maybe that’s what it is though. Maybe he just wants to prove that you can be a slut. A slut for him.
Just as you’re turning around to leave, his voice stops you, “What are we watching?”
Your lips twist up in a smile, one that he has to purse his lips from mirroring. You close the door, sauntering over to his bed in your short little bottoms and thin tank top.
“We can watch whatever.” You say, crawling into his bed.
His eyes bore into the way you make yourself comfortable on his blankets, your smooth legs crossing along his bed. He swallows the accumulating saliva, flicking the light off and joining you.
He grabs the remote from his nightstand, passing it to you to choose a movie, stating, “Anything but a chick flick.”
The giggle falls from your lips so effortlessly, causing him to clear his throat and avert his eyes from you.
The night progresses with several movies before you find yourself sound asleep beside Rafe. He isn’t so lucky as sleep refuses to wash over him.
Instead, he’s left staring at you while you snooze. Your cheeks are slightly squished, causing your lips to form into a pout. Your long lashes rest on your cheeks, casting shadows along your skin. Your hair falls into your face, and he can’t help but brush it behind your ear, letting his fingers linger momentarily.
His eyes lower, taking in the way your cleavage is on show as your tank top is bunched below your tits. Your collarbones so prominent, the soft moonlight, shining through from the window, hitting them with a cool glow.
His gaze continues down your body, boring into the skin of your stomach showing as your shirt rides up. It also reveals the waistband of your small shorts. The shorts that barely cover the curve of your ass. In fact, he can see it clear as day. His eyes rake down the rest of you, soaking in the way your plump thighs damn near swallow your bottoms. Your smooth legs resting atop of one another, begging to be spread.
He can’t help the growing of his cock, now straining against his boxers, aching to be released. He lets out a breath, his eyes closing as he revels in the dirty fantasies he’s having.
He so badly wants to pull your legs apart and kiss you through the fabric of your shorts. He wants to squeeze your tits as he buries himself in you, swallowing all the pretty little sounds you make.
He lets out a hiss as his hand rests on his covered cock, adding just the slightest bit of pressure, seeking relief.
Before he can stop himself, he’s scooting closer to you. His arm wraps around your waist, pulling you back into him. He has to hold back a groan as your ass presses into his bulge.
Completely oblivious the state he’s in, you push back ever further, enjoying the cuddles from your stepbrother.
His hand slides down to your exposed stomach, rubbing small patterns into the skin, taking notice in the way goosebumps form beneath his touch. He can’t help but smirk at that.
You let out a soft hum, still in a deep unconscious state. His hand slowly trails higher, traveling up your torso. His hand halts when he feels your boob. You’re not wearing a bra.
He almost groans at the thought, convincing himself that you did it on purpose. That you want him to touch you. And so he does.
His hand fully engulfs your bare tit, squeezing it so firmly. You stir in your sleep, rolling onto your back. His eyes glimmer at the access you’re unknowingly giving him.
He pinches your hard nipple before removing his hand, and sliding it to the waistband of your shorts. Without hassle, his fingers poke into your bottoms, trailing further down. He tosses his head back at the notion of you not wearing any panties either. You’re practically begging to be fucked.
Taking in your sleeping figure, he lets his fingers go lower, sliding over your bare lips, groaning when he feels your arousal seeping through.
“I knew you were a slut.” He mumbles into your shoulder.
His fingers prod at your slit, pushing your lips open as he rubs you up and down. You let out a small, almost inaudible, moan from the feeling.
Rafe licks his lips, slowly circling your clit with two fingers. He can feel your body slightly tremble against him. Without a second thought, his fingers slide down to your entrance, pushing into you.
The action makes your body jump, instantly pulling you from your dreamy state. Your eyes flutter a few times, taking in what’s happening. Your heart rate picks up and your eyes widen, acknowledging the fact that your stepbrother has his fingers slowly pumping in and out of you.
“Rafe!” You gasp, attempting to push his hand away.
“Shh, you’re okay.” He whispers into your ear, his opposite hand holding you in place.
“W-what are you doing?” You panic, your body tensing as he continues to fuck his digits into you.
“Isn’t it obvious?” He quips, curling his fingers into your spongy walls.
It pulls a moan from you, one that you try to hide away as your cheeks burn bright with embarrassment.
You shake your head, “Stop. This is wrong, you’re my brother.”
“Stepbrother.” He corrects through gritted teeth.
His pace speeds up, the squelching sound filling in the room. Your brows knit together as you bite back your moans, the feeling being all too pleasurable.
“Do you really want me to stop?” He breathes against you. “Just tell me to stop and I will.”
Your mind races with a million thoughts a second, yet you feel blank at the same time. There’s no denying how good you feel right now, and how attracted you’ve felt towards Rafe. You always swallowed those feelings down, knowing it’s not right. But right here, right now, you don’t seem to care about anything else other than the feeling of his fingers working you.
“No, no.” You moan, your back arching. “Please don’t stop.”
He smirks, “That’s my girl.”
Next thing you know, he’s in between your legs, tongue lapping at your wetness as his fingers thrust in and out of you. Your hands tangle in his hair, tugging at the strands as you buck your hips into his face while soft moans fall from your lips. You can practically feel his smirk as he pulls you closer.
“Taste so good, sound so pretty.” He coos, sucking up your juices. “Always knew you’d be a mess for me.”
You whine at his words, feeling your orgasm sneaking up on you. It doesn’t take long. His lips puckering around your clit and sucking harshly brings you over the edge. The guilt you have for letting him touch you dissipates as euphoria floods your veins. Your body convulses, legs shaking as you let go. He moans against your pussy, devouring everything you have to give him.
You’re left panting, coming down from the delicious high he gave you. He sits up, licking your remaining arousal from his lips. Scooting back up next to you, he pulls you into him once more, burying his face in your hair.
“What are you doing?” You whisper, still breathless.
“Thought you wanted to have a sleepover.” He mumbles, leaving you in a state of shock at what just took place.
⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚
tags : @sunkissedrafe @wickedtactics @bunnycvnts @butterflyoceandreams
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tori-peony · 2 months
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he's so pretty when he cries
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thedarkwhisperedtome · 5 months
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𝔻𝕒𝕣𝕜 𝔻𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕞𝕤 - ghostface (ex bf) rafe cameron x fem!reader
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ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: You wake up in the middle of the night with a sight you could have definitely gone without... ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: DEAD DOVE (DO NOT EAT), smut, dub-con, brief somnophilia, bj, fingering, hj, cunnilingus, gun, gun-play, light choking, ᴡᴏʀᴅᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 2.2k+ words See Authors Note at the end Minors DO NOT interact dividers from sweetparty
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A moan itches at her throat. A tear rumbles beneath her eyelid. A beg tickles on her tongue. All as he stared up at her–to his beautiful prize. And she isn’t even awake to know it. He caresses every conceivable whimper out of her until her stirs become shivers; his fingers continue pumping through her, thick and punishing. Until her blood ran hot with desire. Until he could feel her growing wetness for him. Her quivering core. Oh how he wanted her as he placed the gun carefully on her bedside and let the blood of his cloak stain her sheets. A moan lodges in his throat at the thought of his sweet love awakening, awakening to blink those pretty puppy eyes up at her ceiling until all of a sudden an orgasm rocks through her as hard as a ship. As hard as the fucking titanic, oh how badly he wants you to reach that iceberg as you find him between your legs. Rafe kisses her thigh wetly, lips plump and pleading. “Oh, sweet baby, open those pretty eyes for me.” His voice sings through the grin on his lips. “My sweet, sweet baby…” Quiet chuckles bubble in his throat as a whine slips from your own. Then your eyelashes flutter open as if summoned by his will. Rafe can’t hide the amused snicker that passes him. Your lip twitches as you come to, eyes flickering across the dark room as your brows cinch. “That’s it.” Rafe coos. That is the trigger that wrenches a gasp from your body. Your eyes snap to his tan face, sandy hair and curling grin but when you are just about to scream–Rafe’s gloved hand slaps against your mouth with a roughness you had never felt before and holds it there. “Don’t do it, baby, you don’t wanna upset me right now.” He murmurs and kisses down your warm neck. It was just as addictive as he had imagined it to be. 
Breath heavies in your throat. It coils and thickens and suffocates but you can do nothing to stop it when panic seizes your chest so abruptly. When your ex-boyfriend’s hand is gripping around your wrists with the strength to bruise. “It’s alright…I’m here now.” He doesn’t seem to appreciate your squirming, only squeezing you harder in response. He clenches his jaw. “Hey now! I gutted that little boytoy of yours, I can gut you just as easily so don’t fucking scream.” The words strew out like a long-drawn hiss. Something built up. Something rotting…Until a whimper escapes you and his hands weaken. The threat barely registers. “Aw, baby don’t cry…Aw, I don’t want you to cry, I just want you to be my good girl, yeah? Make us both happy. That’s all I want.” You hadn’t even noticed the slipping tears until his deft kisses were licking them onto his tongue…Maybe you missed him more than you let on… Or maybe he was right. Maybe he was your silent addiction afterall. Slowly, his hands loosen but the smirk on his face twitches in uncertainty. You don’t move. You don’t breathe. He grins. “That’s it.” The hand that was once around your mouth sweeps over your body slowly. Your brows pinch tighter and another whimper escapes–Rafe couldn’t be harder. It strains against his thighs and the black cloak around him. A grunt presses against his tightly closed lips while his fingers curl into you. He delights in the sharp sounds that slip through your own. 
Shit he wants to fuck you. 
And he isn’t going to let anybody take you away from him. 
Not again. 
Not ever.
So his fingertips tickle up your thighs which are beginning to thrash at the featherlight stimulations because it was never about hurting you–oh no. Rafe Cameron is powerful and he likes to take advantage of that power. He has the inexplicable need to make you see that power. To feel it. To fear it. To desire and long for it. For it to make those pretty little thighs slick with wetness. For you to be ashamed of that wetness. And finally, he wants for you to cry as you bob on the beast he calls his cock. A moan rumbles at the mere thought alone and Rafe’s tongue plunges into that wet, spongy little cunt, having finally reached it. The taste sparks starvation, not hunger, it tickles him more than cocaine ever did. More than anything ever had. Oh his sweet little drug, his sweet little girl. All his. A cry bursts from your mouth when his nails dig deep into your flesh, when they drive into your skin and hunt for those sharp sounds. Six months, he had been deprived of this, six fucking months without this because of your ‘boundaries’, you cunt. No, no, not you, no he would never think such thoughts. He blinks them away like the devil. No you’re his good girl, right? His final girl. His grin returns, twisting like a man mad as he suckles the sweet bud of pleasure. Your legs curl, he can feel it, the way they tense, the way they plead, the way they beg for him. He complies, wrapping the limbs over his shoulders and moaning when you tighten them. He knows what you are doing–he would be a fool not to but he cares not when he knows you’ll be back to ‘normal’ in time passed. He’ll make sure of it. 
Panic submerges your psyche. It boils it until the only screams you let escape are the ones he wants from you. The ones that do not frighten you. Ones of pleasure. Six months ago was the beginning of everything. The beginning of freedom. The beginning of regret. And finally, the beginning of the end. Because you both knew where this tale would loop back to. Two years were over six months ago. Where they had torn apart Rafe’s mind until it left nothing but a nasty fury–your own mind had been opened. Gone were the smothering hands and latching grips. It had taken time for the bruises to go…for the marks that once lathered on your hips with the normality of a tattoo to fade until they met the same shade as your flesh. For the first time you had been perfectly entitled to go to a party without someone breathing down your neck and monitoring your alcohol. For the first time you had been able to go to a store without a honk blaring in your ears. For the first time, you were able to feel fresh. Anew. But you both knew where this tale would loop back to… 
Your breath hitches in and out, only pleasing Rafe more. You hiss as his nails bury in your skin. You hiss as a Rafe ruts his own hips against your bed–the one in which you had always refused to let him take you. Of course that had never stopped him fucking you anywhere else now. But you knew what this was about, the second you opened your eyes and saw the devil in his. This was more than getting you back. This was more than fucking you. This was about making you understand who you belong to. And if you weren’t going to see that? He’d make you. You wince as he finally pulls away from your pretty little pussy. His hand slaps it abruptly–a yelp bursts from you. He only chuckles back. “Good girl.” He purrs before suckling on your thigh again, replacing all your faded marks with fresh ones. With his eyes wound shut and hazy expression, you take your chance. With trepidation, your hand reaches as slow as a tortoise to the bedside. To the gun. You hold your breath as your fingers just about brush the side and then– “Don’t.” Rafe interrupts with a grunt and a hand suddenly whipping to snatch your wrist. Your eyes snap to his head. The rest of him hasn’t moved an inch. His lips are sucking at your thigh again until they pop away. His eyes flicker up to yours with a coldness. A standstill. Both of you willing the other to break first. To break at all. 
But then your arm softens. It only takes half a moment for Rafe to twist it painfully back until you’re whining. He kneels up on the bed–using your height difference against you–and uses the other hand to quickly clasp around your throat. It tightens as your eyes widen, his own narrow. “Don’t think you can outsmart me,” He snaps through gritted teeth. “Or else it’s going to be more than your friends who meet Mr. Ghostface.” You blink once, twice, thrice and then…His lips twitch. “Oh sweetheart,” He jogs your head slightly like a toy in his hand. “Haven’t you worked it out yet? Is my sweet baby really so dumb? Aw, don’t worry, your boyfriend’s here now, here to teach you all the stuff that silly brain can’t comprehend.” Your mouth goes dry as he reaches behind him to something you can’t see. It’s too dark. And so he flicks your lamp on–the peach light cocooning. Rafe Cameron rises a long thin mask up until it rests beside his face. He tilts his head mockingly. “Surprised?” The blood drains from yourself as you face off with the infamous Ghostface mask which had turned your short-lived freedom to horror over the past two and a half weeks. Your face, pale and frightened, almost flinches at the sight. “Don’t worry,” He coos. “I’m not gonna hurt you, and neither is he.” He puppeteers the mask as it stares back at you. “Just so long as you’re my good girl. Can you be my good girl?” The grip on your neck tightens but you nod despite it. A whimper tumbles through you. He smirks. “Then show me.” 
Rafe’s hands leave you in favour of his belt. Without his stability holding you upright, you drop back into the bed. He doesn’t care though as he fishes his cock out of his pants and jerks it. He sinks his teeth into his lower lip and hisses as the thick pink rod points at you with silent threats. Your hand is trembling but this is a game you have known before and you cannot help but yearn for the familiar salty taste that is yet to come. You part your lips but– “Uh uh.” Rafe scolds teasingly as he looks down at you, at those pretty doe eyes that look practically desperate for him. “You gotta earn that, sunshine. I don’t just let any old bitch taste my cock and you’ve been a little shit tonight.” A quiver rolls through you as you reach for it. Rafe hums in approval as your fingers wrap around the girth and roll it back and forth. You whimper as your own pace quickens and Rafe’s eyes squeeze shut in pleasure. He flicks the hand that still wields his weapon–pressing the gun’s muzzle against your forehead. You freeze. “Quicker.” He demands, power flowing through his veins as need reverberates through his grunts. You preen at the danger, at the debauchery…He knew you missed him, really. “My good little slut, yeah? Gonna be a little slut for your boyfriend?” He’s smirking, teasing and curious all at once. Your hesitation drops his smile. He cocks his gun–stiffening you. You nod suddenly with a tremble. “Good girl.” He grunts. “Now, say it.” You swallow. “I’m gonna be your good little slut, just yours, just your good little slut!” You blurt. Rafe nods, relaxing as he brushes some of your hair away with the gun. He nods. “Yes you are…”
His brows lower as he contemplates. The thoughts whir slowly in his mind before he stuffs the gun under your mattress. Your hair stands on its end and his hands are snappy to curl into your hair. He pulls you up by it meanly. You wince. “Tell me again.” “I’m…I’m your good little slut.” “Not that bit.” You hesitate at the command. His face sterns. “You know which.” It is this moment that will sear in your mind forever as the moment you gave up. “Just yours, Rafe…I’m just yours.” He nods as though the answer is obvious but then the air that passes through his nose resembles relief. His smile stretches. “Knew it.” He sighs before pushing your head by his pelvis. “Now be a good slut and take your reward before I change my mind.” You don’t have to be asked twice before your lips lock around his cock and your tongue dart under it to lick along those familiar ridges. Rafe’s jaw unlocks as your warm mouth sucks him like a vow. He supposes it is and he wouldn’t want it any other way. His fingers curl into your hair and tug encouragingly. Your mind slowly fades as your eyes fall down and so do your defences. Maybe he was right…maybe being Rafe’s really is all you need, the thought passes your dazed head as his hot cum gushes into your mouth. You can be his good girl for one more day, can’t you? 
He can only hope you don’t scream too much on the way home… 
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A/N: I might do a part 2 to this but I'm not set yet so let me know what you all think
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mrsdarkandyandere7 · 9 months
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Permission
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Pairing: Dark Rafe Cameron x (female) Reader
▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.
More at Masterlist
SUMMARY: If Rafe doesn’t want you to go somewhere, that’s what you should do. Except you don’t. 
WARNINGS: Toxic Relation; Domestic Violence/Abuse
Please, reblog and give me feedback.
--
“She’s not going.” 
You and Sarah groan at the same time, eyes flicking to the door where Rafe stands. 
“Stop snooping, Rafe! And get out of my room.” Sarah throws a pillow at her brother but he barely pays attention to her, his stare directed at you. 
You cross your arms, annoyed. 
“What?” 
His eyebrows raise at your snappy reaction and he puts his hands on the pockets, his hair messy. 
“I said that you are not going.” he repeats, voice layed with determination.
Giving Sarah a small apologetic smile, you leave her room, not bothering to look at Rafe as you head for his room. Plopping onto his bed, you reach for your phone but as soon as you touch it, Rafe snatches it. 
“Can you stop being so annoying?” you glare at your boyfriend, but he only smirks. 
You curse as Rafe takes the phone away from your reach. 
“Say you’re not going.” he insists. “Say it and I’ll give it back.” 
You throw your hands in the air.
“Why are you being so pushy about it? What’s wrong with going to a party?” 
He squints his eyes at you and you can already guess what’s coming.
“It’s not just some party, is it? It’s a fucking Pogue party, filled with them.” you can almost taste the disgust in Rafe’s words, his lips curling downwards. 
“...and I don’t want you near Sarah’s friends. They’re bad news. Especially that John B guy … and JJ.” 
“Well, that’s not your decision to make, babe.” You push yourself off the bed, but he grabs your arm, swirling you towards the bed. You squeal, falling down and you’re about to yell at him when his hand wraps around your neck. 
Your hand instantly claws at it, the increasing pressure making you feel uncomfortable. Rafe’s lips only curl into a half-smile, dodging your attempts to knee him. 
“Don’t make me repeat myself, yeah, baby?” his tone darkens as he looms over you “You’re not going to that stupid party. Understood?” 
You feel the tears burning in your eyes as you frantically nod, a shaken breath escaping your lips when Rafe releases your throat. 
Touching the sensitive skin, you look up at Rafe, an unbothered expression glued to his face as he looks at you. He throws your phone to the bed, winking at you.
“See? It wasn’t that hard, was it?”
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"Oh shit.” 
You follow Pope’s eyes and turn around. Your body freezes on the spot, eyes rounding up as you catch the sight of Rafe exiting his truck, his head moving as he looks around, a pissed off look plastered on his face. 
You’re screwed. 
“Isn’t that your boy, Rafe? What the hell is he doing here?” Pope asks and you dive, hiding behind his figure. Rafe was starting to create a ruckus shouting your name, Topper and Kelce with him.
Their presence makes you nervous and you decide it’s time to skip the party before anything more dramatic happens. 
“You know what, I think I’m just gonna head home and-” you yelp as your arm is roughly pulled.
You barely have time to say anything before you’re being dragged away and you wouldn’t even have to look to know that it’s Rafe. 
“Rafe, stop! You’re hurting me!” your pleas don’t stop Rafe, all the bystanders shocked yet no one daring to intervene, moving away from you. 
You trip on your own feet and end up colliding against Rafe’s body. You whine, pleading with him to slow down but your boyfriend seems to have gone mad. 
He pushes you inside his truck without a word and as he walks to the drivers side, you look through the window, catching Sarah and JJ heading your way. You shake your head at them, they’re too far and you doubt that Rafe would enjoy them interfering. 
The truck starts and soon you’re on the road, small sniffles from you filling the space. 
“You didn’t have to do that.” 
Rafe’s fingers tighten around the wheel, turning white. 
“I told you not to go to the party, didn’t I?” he starts “If you fucking listened to me, then this wouldn’t have happened. You only have yourself to blame.” 
You bury your nails in your bare thigh, despair starting to hit you. Without a second thought, you grab the handle, forgetting about the moving car. 
It doesn’t work, Rafe quickly grabbing your hair, aggressively tugging you back inside. Both of you fight and you scratch his hand, crying out. 
“Fucking hell, Y/N.” 
The car stops, and you barely have time to process what was going on before your cheek implodes with pain, your face turned to the side with the impact. The bruising grip hurting your scalp as he uses it to recline your face. 
He closes in, his features molding a scowl. 
“I don’t think you fucking understand. I say, you obey. As simple as that.” he tugs on your hair, a reminder of his power over you and a tear slips from your eye. 
“And I swear to god that if you push it one more time, baby, I’m gonna fucking destroy this pretty face of yours.”
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havegoodrafe · 4 months
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you hid from him and he found out.
warnings: dark!rafe, kook!reader, kook!rafe, toxic relationship, emotional dependence, obsession, daddy!kink, need for male approval, age difference, spanking, toxic!rafe, possessive.
author: hi, I'm Brazilian, English is not my good language, so forgive me for any spelling mistakes or disconnections between words! I don't support troubled relationships or etc, it's just a story to entertain fans.
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his fingers were shaking and his legs were weak, shaking on the school chair, feeling an immense sadness invade his heart. rafe cameron. that was the name of his reason for being in this situation. It was kind of humiliating, but impossible. you had a complicated relationship.
He was a controlling and obsessive man, when he found out that you were manipulated by your friends to be at a party during the night, he picked on your weak point: himself. rafe just blocked you from all social media and ignored you that morning. you were in four grades before him, so you only saw each other during break time.
usually he was always surrounding you, and even clinging to you at any time, both at school and at home. But that day, he did it differently. Rafe didn't even set foot outside his classroom, he was closed off, and his group of friends didn't leave his side either. your friends were worried about how destroyed you were knowing how angry he was.
"I shouldn't have left. You guys are a bad way." You mumbled, with your head down, trying not to freak out and have your anxiety attack right there.
"you can't put your emotions on rafe like that, y/n!" Kiara complained, touching your hand, but you pushed it away. at the moment the only touch you wanted was from your boyfriend.
You don't even know if he wants to be your boyfriend anymore.
"he's so sick, can't you at least leave and he does this?" Sarah, his sister, rolled her eyes irritably.
You remain silent, clenching your fingers to keep from crying. but that moved away when Topper appeared at your table, calling you to follow him, so you did, confused by it. He took you to the classroom where he studied and especially, Rafe. you trembled even more when you saw rafe sitting on a table, with his strong arms crossed and his expression serious.
he motioned for his friends, kelce and Topper to leave the room and they did so, leaving just you and your boyfriend. his muscles were tense. Rafe sat in his chair, moving away the table where there were some student objects. He patted your thighs waiting for you to sit on them.
So you did, holding his shoulders, while showing your sadness, seeing him with that scary expression, his blue eyes seemed as dark as a forest at night.
You squeezed his shoulders, feeling him not touch you at any point.
“daddy…” you whispered. "I-I know you're mad..." You wanted to cry, honestly. Rafe was so cold.
"You acted like a whore." was the only thing he said.
"no, no, daddy! I promise I didn't do anything wrong! I stayed quiet, waiting for Kiara and Sarah, I swear to you!" Rafe let out a laugh, looking all over you. He took his hand to her blouse, lifting it and exposing her body. He looked at her entire bust, checking to see if there were any marks, but he didn't see anything. Then he lifted your skirt, putting his hand inside your panties, putting his fingers in you, making you completely sensitive to him.
Rafe felt you tighten and close, indicating that you were telling the truth. he finally smiled. he gave you a small pat on the face.
"you are a good girl." He smiled. "but it doesn't negate the fact that you left without my permission." He held your thigh, feeling you silently rubbing against him. Rafe's big hand grabbed your chin with little brutality and brought you closer to him, leaving you with shallow breaths and scared eyes. "I want you to lie down on my lap with your ass stuck out." He ordered, seeing her eyes bulge.
Rafe wasn't nice when he ordered her to do such an act. he usually took it very hard, even if they were at school during break time.
"You're going to count on me, okay?" He asked as she lay down and placed her hands on the floor, finding enough balance. his knees almost didn't touch the floor due to the size of the chair. “i asked you a question, y/n!” He said, angrier than before.
"y-yes, daddy, I understand, it's okay." You pressed your lips back, feeling him lift your skirt, exposing the stern of your round ass. He started slapping the area a few times in a row, making her completely red and making her count with him every time his hand hit her sensitive skin. again, again and again.
salty tears ran down the plump cheeks of her delicate face. your body was slowly lifted with the help of raphe, making you look him in the eyes. he kissed her eyes, her mouth, her nose.
"it's for your own good. I need to teach you manners, my angel." he whispered caressing the bands of her sore ass.
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screamforyani · 4 months
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in the end, you’ll never escape
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warnings: noncon, implied stalking
wc. 1.7k
a/n’s: pls stop putting drew’s photos through remini hell i can’t live like this anymore guys. also hi ik i died over here 👀
miles upon miles away from kildare, you were contentedly far from home. months ago, the distance wouldn’t have been as tempting. the outer banks and the life you’d made there were the only things you’d ever known. but when your home began to feel less and less like a safe haven, you were more keen to be anywhere else.
it wasn’t easy leaving behind your friends, god knew you missed them every fucking minute of every day, but you knew it was a good call. no danger could reach you here. to you, and to everyone involved, it was for the better.
well, except to maybe one person.
you could hear a familiar jingle rupture the air even all the way upstairs. your brows furrowed. you weren’t expecting any guests, and you knew that your parents couldn’t have been either, because they wouldn’t be back for hours.
there was a knock. not at the door, but at your heart. after so many months outside of the outer banks, it might’ve been ridiculous to still feel uneasy about being home by yourself, but the fear never quite ceased; it quietened. but those whispers could be loud if they so pleased.
calm down, you thought to yourself. would rafe bother to knock at the door?
but you knew that he would. as belligerent as you knew him to be in nature, rafe would always play nice to begin with. if needed, he would escalate things, and he was not afraid of taking things up another degree to get what he wanted. 
you knew it, because you had dealt with it firsthand. you had been underneath him while rafe stood atop, wielding his golden shovel as he tossed dirt upon your grave. metaphorically speaking, at least. rafe hadn’t literally tried to bury you alive, but you wouldn’t put it past him. 
you couldn’t put anything past him.
your heart thudded as you took your sweet time to pass the stairs, but it felt like you could only breathe after you took another step. you peaked through the windows, and blew out a breath of relief when the guy standing out there wasn’t your worst nightmare.
you unlocked the front door, pulling it open. 
“delivery for…” the man said your name.
that was odd, considering you weren’t expecting a delivery either, but you cloaked your shock and accepted the box he handed you graciously, shutting the door behind yourself and locking it.
the second you were alone again, you raced to the kitchen to grab a knife. you needed to know what was in the box or it’d kill you. curiosity getting the better of you, you cut it open, pulling the gift out of the cardboard it had come to you in.
it was a sweater you’d been eyeing, an expensive one. sure, you were a kook by kildare standards, though in spite of all that you’d been through, your parents still hadn’t forgiven your past pogue-esque shenanigans and wanted you to work to be let off.
plus it wasn’t like you had a job. you guessed all your rambling combined with your suffering made them slacken, and your heart filled with warmth, happy to clear the tension between you and your parents even if only a little.
to be fair, you’d clearly been through… something, but they couldn’t piece it together, other than the fact that someone had been intimidating you, though that was only because it was glaringly obvious.
you couldn’t tell them. you wouldn’t even know how to start. and they wouldn’t understand, so you’d rather them be upset with you. sometimes it was just easier.
the doorbell rang again maybe an hour later, the sound startling you out of your own head. you paced downstairs, less hesitant than before. it was ridiculous to think that rafe would find you or be desperate enough to go after you when it would be easier to pick another girl on the island to break.
imagine your shock when you opened the front door and there he was. the devil himself.
every inch of you was frozen over, stiff. every muscle, every bone. “rafe?”
rafe chuckled. if you hadn’t known any better, you’d say he looked happy to see you, but there was always something darker. in your shock, you spluttered, “what are you doing here?”
“i can’t come visit my favorite girl?” rafe asked, pretending to be saddened, and oblivious.
your eyes flickered and you felt moisture instinctively gather at your lashes, though at least for now, you held it back. 
he looked a little different. his blue eyes still knew how to pierce the very heart of you, but his hair was significantly shorter. though in spite of your blurring vision (the side effect of tears or the lightheadedness, you couldn’t tell the difference), your whole body knew it was rafe and it paralyzed with total fear.
still, you tried to level your breathing. “you’re not supposed to be here.”
rafe didn’t seem to care, stepping closer and leaning into your ear to mutter, “we’ve done a lot of things we weren’t supposed to. haven’t we, baby?”
you recoiled, immediately drawing back. “if you don’t leave, i’ll tell my parents…”
“your parents?” rafe repeated, that familiar sly, shit-eating grin curled onto his lips. “your parents, they love me. what will they do? invite me over for dinner? fuck, baby, you really know how to strike fear into my heart.”
“i told them what you did!”
it was a lie, and you knew it. more importantly, rafe knew it. why would you bother? your parents failing to understand you aside, it would’ve only done more damage. your parents would forever loathe the camerons and you were perfectly content not being a blip on ward cameron’s radar. 
his son was already a handful.
rafe shook his head, pressing his lips together. “nah, no you didn’t. you wanna know how i know?”
your pulse quickened when he stepped closer again, already a foot inside of your house. this time, his lips brushed your ear, heightening the uneasy sensation that got louder with every thud of your breath. 
you were trapped in his arms, with nowhere to flee. something as simple as the slightest of touches between you and rafe sent a shiver down your spine. “because you’re too afraid. you’d rather keep the peace than let them in. now isn’t that right, babe?”
your eyes stung as you glanced up at him. you were always beneath him, never on top. “please, rafe. go home,” you begged.
rafe’s true anger finally started to peek through as he said none too kindly, “no. did you really think i was gonna just let you leave me? now we can really be together. no stupid pogues to get in our way.”
you cried out in shock when rafe got a hold of you, yanking you by the arm into your own house and shutting the door before dragging you upstairs. you had no idea how he knew where your bedroom was and you were too afraid to ask.
“rafe, stop,” you shouted. “rafe, you’re hurting me!”
rafe’s grip didn’t slacken until he pushed you into your room, and hissed, “you hurt me. you think i wanted to be on that island without you? you were the only thing that made shit feel worth it...”
you swallowed, lips trembling. 
“and then you just left. vanished. no goodbye, no nothing. you wanna know how that made me feel? like shit! like killing somebody,” rafe said, approaching you.
rafe had that look in his eye, that familiar, unpredictable glint he always got when he was up to no good. you tried to get away from him, tried to do anything to keep him at arm’s length, but he was quicker and reached for you again.
at this point, your heart was thumping in your ears and the tears were pouring down your face so hard, you could barely see. all you could hear was thunder. “rafe, please. i’m begging you. don’t do this.”
“don’t do what? don’t make you pay for what you did to me?” rafe asked, shoving you onto your bed. “nah. i’m gonna hurt you just like you hurt me.”
your eyes winced close as rafe started to rip the clothes from your body, but you didn’t fight back. it would only make it worse.
it hurt to breathe, inhale after exhale. your chest was taut with pain and terror and perhaps still shock, in disbelief that your measures to protect yourself had failed. but it was rafe. and whatever rafe wanted, he got. every fucking time without fail.
the irony was killing you. right now, you would’ve been a thousand times safer on the island than you were right now in a foreign place where you knew nobody and nobody knew you. though you knew that as long as rafe was breathing, you were never truly safe.
“that’s right, baby. don’t fight it,” rafe whispered, teasing his cock between your folds. the discomfort on your face was conspicuous, but you did nothing to make it stop. “i love that about you, you know. you don’t put up a fight. to you… it’s not worth it.”
rafe’s cock slammed into you, pushing in and out. he groaned, remembering everything he loved about your pussy. you gripped him, tight and vice-like, and the sounds that came from the very back of his throat were low and deep. 
“it’s always worth it to me, though. if you want something enough, you’ve gotta just take it. and all those people that don’t want you to have it? just watch them cry,” he added, not even looking at your face anymore. 
his eyes were between your legs, mesmerized as he tirelessly watched himself disappear inside of you again and again, as if he was under some kind of trance.
“cry me a fucking river,” rafe said, his other hand groping every part of your body it could touch. “you’ll get over it.”
your eyes narrowed, and you were overcome with the urge to smack him across the face, but you resisted. the last time you’d done it, in a situation way too similar to this one, he hadn’t hesitated to slap you back even harder. he was right; you didn’t think it was worth it.
to delay the inevitable was to prolong your own suffering. and in the end, you’d never escape.
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necroflame · 2 months
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On the Way to a Smile (Dark!Rafe Cameron x F!Reader)
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Paring: Dark!Rafe Cameron x F!Reader
Summary: On the cusp of your wedding, you are haunted by a shade from your past who just can't seem to leave you alone.
Warnings: Implied non-con, drugging, loss of virginity, original characters, wedding crashing, possessive behaviour, flashbacks, bullying, substance use, cheating, implied eating + body image issue (18+)
🦇gill – "I made a story board for this on pinterest if anyone is interested, this is my first dark fic + semi smut so any feedback would be very appreciated! I also included some linked visuals but that's only how I imagined things to look, you can follow your own destiny." 🌬 17k (buckle up ya'll)
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i.
"What's all this?"  
Strewn across the Cameron's dining table was an array of objects that could only be described as a mixed blessing. Multiple binders containing silk swatches protruding from the edges, sticky notes with potential dietary requirements, and different flora species – planning a wedding was less of a journey and more of a ride. 
Averting your burning eyes from your laptop screen, you acknowledged Rafe with a cordial smile, lazily gesturing to the conglomeration of wedding itinerary. 
"My future." 
The blonde simply hummed, eyes narrowing as he leisurely rounded the dark oak to stand beside you. He silently lingered there for a moment, ring-clad fingers dancing across the drafted invitations with an indecipherable expression. 
"Where's Sarah? Ain't she supposed to be helping you with all this shit?" 
You refrained from rolling your eyes. Rafe was, after all, a friend of the family, and by extension earned your respect. Even If he could be a complete dick–
"I am helping, thank you very much!" 
Sarah's voice, now tinged with irritation, reverberated from the pantry before she emerged with a bag of microwave popcorn. "What do you have to offer other than giving us a headache?" A deep crease settled between her brows as she threw her flaxen locks into a low ponytail, setting the bag into the microwave. 
"Well you see, Sarah, I'm a man with a fine eye for detail." He prodded his haughtily puffed chest which Sarah scoffed at, glancing towards you with disbelief. 
"Says the boy who'd be leaving the house with his shoelaces undone were it not for Wheezie." 
"Now you're just making shit up–"
"Both of you, please!" With an exasperated sigh, you cradled your throbbing temples in the seat of your palms. "If you're going to argue, do it somewhere else."
Ding!
A much-needed reprieve from the stifling tension in the room, the microwave beeped, signalling that the popcorn was ready. However, the pause was short-lived. As soon as the timer stopped, the silence was disrupted by Rafe's voice. His tone mocking and derisive.
"Ordering me around in my own house, hm?" His short, dirty blonde locks cascaded over his eyes as he shook his head, failing to conceal his lour. "Nah, that's not how it works sweetheart. Maybe I'd allow it if you were marrying me."
"Rafe." Sarah hissed. "Shut up and get out."
In the typical fashion of the first-born Cameron, Rafe disregarded his sister's command, instead opting to leer down at you like some voracious beast reading to trap you in its gaping maw. 
"So where's the lucky man? He got to stake his claim, now he's leaving all the work for you?" 
You ignored his taunts, for that was what they were. He fed off reactions like a leech. You had come to realise this over the years as he evolved into an obnoxious variant of the boy you once admired. Rather than giving him the attention he craved so dearly, you turned your focus to Sarah as she came to sit beside you. 
"If you must know, he's working to pay off his student loans," You fought the urge to bite back at his spiteful remarks, ultimately losing when you added; "Maybe one day when you take care of your responsibilities, you will understand."
Sarah suppressed her snot beneath a mouthful of popcorn. As you reached for a handful of your own, a hand slid in between, suddenly pushing the bowl out of reach. 
"Careful." Rafe drawled warningly, pointing to a trumpet silhouette dress advertised in a women's magazine you had circled with a red marker. "That dress is real pretty, it would be a shame if you outgrew it."
ii.
It was winter, 2006. 
You were five, perched on your mother's lap in the front seat of your father's Chrysler 300C as she consoled you through hiccuping sobs. This Christmas, the esteemed Camerons were your family's special holiday destination; a far cry from the usual dinner and movie at your grandparents.
Numerous road signs were posted throughout Figure 8, warning drivers to approach the winding roads with caution due to the unusually high levels of sleet. Despite the treacherous conditions, your father traversed along as he usually would. You whimpered and pawed at your mother's blouse in a bid to be reassured, but she merely shushed you.
"Don't worry, baby. You're safe."
As you pulled up along a circular drive encompassed by large plains of neatly trimmed verdure, a house came into view… if you could even call it that.
 A quadruple frontage acting as a supporting beam for the large balcony above donned with red, white and blue flags and multiple seating arrangements. On the right side of the glass entry doors was a metal plaque spelling 'Tannyhill' 
You beamed up at the place in awe. "Is this a castle?" 
Your father chuckled, ruffling your loose hair. 
"Something like that."
A man emerged from the double doors, dressed in the typical 'low-key' Figure 8 attire: white slacks, a chequered shirt, and leather loafers. He was a splitting image of your father and all the other men on the island, carrying an aura of confidence in every sedate step.
You were urged out of the car with a gentle but firm push. The strange man’s beady eyes— like two pale corks screwed into his head— landed on you disconcertingly, as though you were a microorganism being inspected beneath a scope. 
"Hello, little one." His eyes crinkled as he smiled, bending down to your level. "What's your name?"
Your young mind could not fathom why he frightened you like the animated villain in your favourite TV show. When he extended his hand to you, you instinctively retreated into your mother's skirt.
"Don't mind her, Ward." Your father emerged from the driver’s side of the vehicle. "She'll warm up real fast if you offer her something sweet."
"A sweet tooth?" The man, Ward, mused. His voice mild-mannered and pleasant to the ear. "My son is the same, I'm sure you'll get along just fine."
Inside, the house was even more impressive. Tannyhill had been the proud ancestral home of the Cameron family for generations and their wealth and prestige were evident in the sheer opulence of its interior. The walls of the hallway were draped in thick upholstery, varying in shades of crimson, indigo and gold. An ornate floral pattern embroidered in gold thread was meticulously sewn onto the walls. 
Adorning the hallway to the kitchen were multiple picture frames. One in particular caught your interest; a young boy sat on Ward's lap in a velvet-lined chair, smiling and well-groomed with golden locks and a well-pressed collar. 
You wondered if this was the aforementioned son.
Ward's explanation of the Plantation's historical significance fell on deaf ears as you gaped up at the towering ceilings. Your mother attempted to conceptualise it for you through the metaphor of an onion; Tannyhill was composed of multiple layers of history, each integrating to create the rich heritage value of the place. 
"You came here once when you were just a little bean in my belly."
"I don't remember that."
She pulled you into her side by the shoulder as she laughed. "Of course you don't, darling." 
Ward came to a halt at the staircase, raising a finger to his lips.
"Sarah's nursery is upstairs. We just got her down before you arrived but I'll let you have a peek."
 "Oh, that’s alright, Ward. We wouldn't want to disturb her." Your father interjected, mirroring Ward’s hushed tone.
"That won't be an issue, my angel is a heavy sleeper," he whispered, motioning for you to follow him with a reassuring wave of his hand.
“Rafe's up there at the moment,” Confusion enveloped you as a frown settled in place of his previous jovial demeanour. When his stiffened gaze met yours, heat bloomed beneath your cheeks and you perked up. “Maybe you can keep him company, little one." 
The first door on the right was painted a light, dusty rose. Above the door frame were little wooden letters decorated by fairies and flowers spelling out ‘Sarah’. The dry hinges screeched as Ward opened the door.
“Rafe, come meet our guests.” 
The boy from the picture emerged, older now and taller than expected. Unlike the bright smile he wore in the photograph, there was not a trace of joy on his face. But despite his gloomy demeanour, there was a certain charm about him that you couldn't help but notice.
Beautiful, he’s beautiful. 
“Hello.” He said robotically, as though the syllables were being tugged out of his mouth by an invisible wire. 
Ward glared disapprovingly at his son. There was a silent exchange between the two before Rafe finally sighed as if submitting to some sort of inevitable conclusion.
“Merry Christmas, it’s nice to meet you all.” 
His eyes met yours. Crystal orbs of cerulean, framed by a dark outer ring… you were transfixed by his beauty. 
You sat mutely at dinner, only answering direct questions with the bare minimum of words. Mrs Cameron was a lovely and welcoming woman who did her best to include you in the conversation despite your reluctance to participate. Rafe's occasional snarky remarks seemed to anger Ward. His face would darken each time and he would glare in his son's direction with a look of disapproval. The tension between the two was thick, oozing onto you from across the table. You made eye contact with Rafe a few times. He held it with no indication of discomfort whilst you were always the one to eventually flit your attention elsewhere, unable to withstand the strange intensity. 
As the maids began to clear the table, Ward suggested to both you and Rafe, “Go and play while us adults have our talk.”
With the sun making a hasty departure below the treeline in the distance, It had cooled off exponentially outside. You trailed behind Rafe as he led you to a small shed next to the pool, struggling to tug your gloves over trembling fingers. 
You waited outside as Rafe disappeared beyond the frame, returning a few moments later with a black and white ball.
“Do you know how to play?”
The ball was familiar but you shook your head, unsure of the rules. 
“Don’t touch the ball with your hands or make contact with me.” 
“Make contact?” You tilted your head in confusion. 
“You can’t kick your enemy on purpose, got it?”
You gave a nod– still unsure about why you’d want to kick anyone on purpose– and Rafe tossed the ball at you. The ground was partially frozen beneath your feet and you stumbled backwards with the sudden force of the ball, nearly toppling over. 
“Good, let's play.” 
At first, it felt hopeless as your feet slipped on the icy ground cartoonishly. Rafe’s size, strength and experience did not deter him from going full pelt, and it quickly became apparent that the only way you could gain any leverage over him was if you were to be sneaky– which of course, was easier said than done. 
Every pivot of your foot he anticipated. His agile movements made it nearly impossible to bypass him and you found yourself huffing in frustration as he swiftly confiscated the ball from your weak stance. 
“This is not fair!” You cried exasperatedly, ego depleted after numerous failures.
“You’ve got to try harder if you want to beat me.” 
Rafe’s arrogant tone only stoked the flames of your wrath. Slowing down, you realised that your frantic footwork before an attack left your defences vulnerable. Watching Rafe’s strategy, you could see that he was coming head-on, anticipating that you would focus your resources on an attack. 
This time rather than barreling towards him head-on, you hunkered down into a low stance, turning slightly and awaiting his arrival. Once within range, you swiftly kicked your right foot out, connecting with the ball. It shot through his legs, the suddenness of your attack delaying his reaction ever so slightly, allowing you ample opportunity to rush past him and possess the ball. 
After the shock wore off and Rafe turned to face you, his face was adorned by a countenance of surprise. “Wow, not bad.” 
“Got you!” You giggled, spinning around in glee. 
“You’re more fun than Sarah.” Rafe earnestly remarked. “She never wants to play. All she does is sleep and cry.”  
“I like playing with you.” 
The corners of his lips tugged upwards, his dour demeanour melting away into a softer grin. 
“Let’s try something different.” He suggested, your stomach clenching in apprehension at the mischievous glint in his eyes.
“...Ok.” 
“You stand over there,” He pointed to a small clearing between two trees, “That is the goal. You have to try and protect it.” 
“Ok.” You giggled, heart thumping in rhythm with your hasty steps. 
“Ready?”
You gave a thumbs up and he backed up. Once he was pleased, he took an initial calculative step before thundering towards the ball, sending it soaring through the air. You were sure that it would not make contact with you as it was well above your head. However, after it had risen, it quickly descended back down with the speed and precision of a hunting eagle. It slammed into the edge of your brow, making contact with a surprising amount of force. Your legs gave way under the pressure as you clutched the spot where the ball hit, eyes tearing up from the impact.
“Ow.” Your voice wobbled as you cradled your head. 
“Oh, oops.” Rafe rushed to kneel beside you, gingerly lifting your chin to inspect your face. “Are you ok?” 
You didn’t respond, and when he noticed the tears welling up in your eyes, his entire body stiffened. 
“Hey, hey, hey. Don’t cry, you’re ok.” 
Blinking furiously, you managed to keep it together, but your voice came out as a dry croak. “Am I bleeding?”
“Nah, it’ll just be a little bruise. Nothing to worry about.” 
His assurance dampened your concern, and you nodded. “Even though that really hurt, I still won. The ball didn’t pass the trees!” 
Rafe began to chuckle but was abruptly disturbed by the click of the back door. Your mother called your name into the still air. Sniffling, you brushed your hair back into place when his tight grip clasped onto your shoulders, stilling your frantic movements. 
“I was saving this for later,” His voice was hushed now as he removed a lollipop from his back pocket. “But it’s yours if you promise not to tell.” 
Wiping the corner of your eyes, you smiled, “Alright.”
iii.
You froze in front of the mirror.
Floor length, delicately laid seams stretching taut against soft curves, the colour perfectly harmonious with your undertones– The dress was a beautiful testament to how far you've come, like a chain binding the past and the present together.
There was just one issue…it wouldn’t zip up the whole way. 
You urged the seamstress to keep trying, tugging the resistant zip until it eventually gave way. It didn't, and on one particularly harsh tug, the zip got caught and pinched your flesh. You hissed, and she apologised before releasing it down and backing off. 
“Your wedding is in a week?” She inquired, glancing over your frame insouciantly.
“Yes, Saturday week.”
“I should be able to add some alterations to the back in that time.” 
Her attempt at assuaging you was futile – your mind could only focus on the wheel of possibilities, endlessly spinning. “What if there’s nothing you can do? Or the alteration destroys the style of the dress? Is there another alternative?” 
Her smile was solemn as she met your frantic gaze in the reflection. “Well, I suppose the only other suggestion I can make is to move more and eat less.”
You pressed your lips together before stepping out of the changing room into the harshly lit waiting space. Your mother’s eyes immediately widened as she shot off the couch with a mixture of admiration and concern concocting within her irises.  
“Oh, Darling. The dress is beautiful, but you don’t look happy. What’s the matter?”
“There is a slight issue…with the back.” The seamstress sighed, urging you to turn. 
Your mother attempted to stifle her gasp beneath a freshly manicured hand. She skittered forward brushing delicate fingers over the fabric, prodding and pushing at the broad opening. 
“Mum,” You groaned. “Just be honest with me, how bad is it?” 
“Well, it’s about two inches so it’s not unnoticeable.” A crease formed in her brow as she inspected you, momentarily stuck in thought. “Have you considered styling your hair down?” 
“Yes, but that's not going to fix the issue.” 
She nodded, turning her attention to the seamstress, “Ma’am, I am willing to pay the price to have my daughter's dress prioritised.” 
Before she could even consider the request, the familiar chime of your phone rang out, breaking your dazed stupor. As you peered at the screen, the name vibrantly lighting it up like a lighthouse beacon made you deeply exhale. 
“Sorry, I’ll just answer this.”  
“Is it Thomas?” Your mother’s ears piqued up in interest as you shuffled back to the changing room, her thin lips stretching into a downward crescent.
“Don’t sound more excited than me, mum.”
You swiped the accept button on the call after clicking the lock shut. “Hey sweetheart, how’s it going at the shop?” 
A pit swelled within your stomach. “Things could be better.”
“Is there an issue? Last time you couldn’t have sounded happier.” Thomas’s voice was laced with concern, the image of his deep-set frown and fidgeting fingers flashing into your mind.
“I mean, it’s nothing that can’t be fixed. Just a minor issue with the beading.”
“Alright then, so it could be worse? Regardless, I’m certain you look beautiful.”
“You’re kind of required to say that, y’know, as my fiance.” You whispered timorously.
“Required or not doesn’t make a difference if I mean it all the same.”
The impressive weight of the dress’s train dragged the bodice down with it as it cascaded into a pile of limbs on the floor. A chuffed smile melded onto your face. “Was there any real purpose to this call?” 
“Depends on what you count as purposeful. I wanted to hear my beautiful fiancé’s voice…and ask what other plans she has for the day?”
This time you snorted. Thomas was always vying for your attention. “I’m supposed to be meeting Edie at the club for lunch. She’s afraid you’ll hog up all my attention after the wedding and plans to get me drunk so she can find out all your dirty secrets.” 
“Well she’s not wrong about the first part,” He heartily chuckled. “But try not to reveal too much, I think we’ve had enough rumours spread about us for a lifetime.”
“I’ll do my best. Anyway, I probably should get going, I’m already running late.”
“Alright, I’ll see you later then. I love you.”
“Love you too.”
Your mother resumed her position on the plush white couch while she waited for you, snapping up as you beckoned for her towards the entrance. She stalked closely behind your tail, approaching warily as you headed to your car. 
“We discussed options on how the dress could be altered. It seems like the quickest solution will be to make it backless.”
“Honestly at this point, I don’t really care,” A heavy and tired sigh escaped your lips as you unlocked your car. “As long as it fits, that's all that matters to me.” 
“Darling,” Her cold grasp caught your arm, forcing you to face her. “I know how you get. Your mind is all over the place, I can see it in your eyes.”
“It’s fine mum. I gave up on perfection a long time ago.” 
“Either way, this is your big day and I want you to enjoy it. Don’t let this small mishap ruin it for you, alright?” She sagely advised, soothingly rubbing your shoulders. 
“Ok, I won’t. Promise.” Though the smile was forced, you didn’t have it in you to counter her pleading eyes. She hugged you firmly, planting a kiss on your cheek as you parted ways. 
The country club was brimming with familiar faces, each passing by with a nod of the head. In all honesty, you couldn’t remember half of their names, only being acquainted through your parents. Etiquette was an expected part of the club, though, so you returned their superficial pleasantries with an equally superficial smile. 
The dining hall was occupied by an elderly couple sharing hushed whispers beside the far right window and a group of young men ravenously devouring their meals after an afternoon playing golf. 
However, there was no sign of Edie. 
Allowing your intuition to guide you through the hive-like hallways of the facility, you eventually ended up at the outdoor bar overlooking the course green. That was where you found her; firey tresses flowing loosely over her shoulders, hunched over the bartop as she swirled a glass of glistening rosè. 
“I see you started without me.” 
Without having to turn she squealed as the sound of your voice carried over to her, attracting the attention of curious onlookers. “You made it! I was starting to think you’d bailed on me…again.”
“Ed, that was months ago. I think it’s time we move on.”
She hummed and with a light giggle tapped the stool beside her. “Only if you let me buy you a drink and promise not to complain about the heat.”
“Deal.” 
Nothing ever changed with Edie. Some people would describe her as immature, solidly stuck in the same old adolescent patterns of staying out late, drinking to the point of blacking out and entertaining unsuitable partners based on her attraction to them. But despite the opinion of others, her consistency came as a comfort to you. She knew how to have fun, and this energy never ceased to rub off on you.
“Now I know you’re probably sick of hearing it,” Already knowing where this was going, you rolled your eyes to emphasise how you felt about this turn in the conversation. Her voice was slightly slurred at this point, having gone through half a bottle of prosecco together. If you didn’t keep your wits about you, your tongue would soon become looser than you wished. 
 “But I have to ask–”
“Ed.” Your tone was firm. 
“Are you sure about this?” 
You sighed, leaning back in the stool like a beleaguered outpost, utterly surrendered and defenceless against her heavy onslaught. 
“The amount of times you’ve asked me this is making me think you just don’t like him.”
“Babe, you know it’s more complicated than that.” She gently clasped your hand. “If you’re happy, I’m happy, promise…even with his track record.” 
Your muscles stiffened, weighing you down like a heavy stone in your seat. “We put that behind us many years ago.”
“Well yeah,” She reticently continued. “I guess I’m still in the process of forgiving him, though.”
“If I can then I’m sure you have it in you.”
Her viridian eyes continued to pierce into you as she tilted her glass up to glossed lips. Sensing the finality in your tone, she nodded. 
“So, are you?”
“Am I what?” You chortled incredulously. 
“Happy!”
“Yes! Trust me if I wasn’t you’d be the first one to hear about it.”
“That’s what I like to hear.” She shimmied her shoulders with a giggle, the previously heavy aura dissipating and being charioted away by the breeze. 
The debate over your love life has been a perpetual thorn in your side for many years. People liked to voice their opinions as though your life was paltry gossip they could pass on to their hairdresser. But not many took the time to consider your perspective, your feelings, your anguish. 
Edie geared the topic of discussion to her latest rendezvous. A welcome change. Her sporadic lifestyle always kept you on your toes, considering there had been no major updates in your life for some time now... well, aside from the engagement of course. With the warm buzz pulsating through your veins, nothing could disturb the serene ambience of the club.
Almost nothing. 
“Well, well, well. If it isn’t the two finest women on this island.” Kelce, and that could only mean–
“And if it isn’t our favourite troublesome trio. What brings y'all here this evening?”
Rafe lingered behind his posse like a shadow, his feathery locks tucked beneath a dull grey cap. Though his eyes were shielded by black-out shades, you could sense the burning heat of his gaze from a mile away– your body well attuned to it. 
“Only the same as you two of course. Mind if we join you?”
“Sorry boys, but it’s kind of a girl’s night.” You quickly interjected, masking the unease in your tone with a fleeting smile. 
Edie groaned your name, “Come on, the more the merrier.”
“Yeah come on,” Rafe echoed petulantly. “It’s been a while since we last hung out.” And you got the feeling he wasn’t talking about the rest of them.
Kelce and Topper occupied the two stools adjacent to Edie, leaving the last available seat directly beside you. Rafe was entirely isolated from the group, nursing a bitterly scented beer, and you had become his sole companion.
His stool made an awful scraping sound as he encroached on your personal space. The thick, solid weight of his thigh nudging into yours caused you to flinch and you could have sworn he smirked at the. 
“So, how’ve you been?” He lazily drawled and you didn’t miss the way he blatantly zeroed in on your ring. 
“The same as always Rafe, but I can’t say that bothers me.”
“No? Y’know that surprises me, you were always so…adventurous. Didn’t think you’d settle for the housewife lifestyle so soon.” 
“You of all people should know that others can change.” You argued with a morose huff.
“Yeah, but not you.” His chuckle was merely a blank imitation of humour, shamelessly inauthentic.  
“This is kind of unfair. You seem to know my whole life story while I can barely piece yours together these days.” 
“You wanna know what I’ve been doing?” You nodded and he slouched back against the bar stool, taking a hefty swig of his beer and removing his shades with a flick of the wrist. 
“I was at the shops recently, saw your mum,”
“...Ok?” You scoffed, struggling to see the relevance. 
“She says you’ve been acting strange lately, distant, that true?” 
“She always thinks I’m acting strangely.” She also apparently likes to gossip about my personal life.
“Thing is,” He paused for a moment, grimacing as if struggling to formulate the proper words. You knew better. Nothing Rafe did was without reason. “She’s under the impression it’s got something to do with the big day.”
“The big day, are you kidding me?” 
Your heart synchronised with the beat of the music, drowning out all other immaterial noise as it pounded slow and steady in your ears. For the first time that evening, you dared a glimpse into Rafe’s eyes, immediately noticing his pupils dilated to the size of pennies.
“Jesus– Rafe,” You hissed, snatching his chin between your fingers. “I thought you gave up on that shit.”
“Always worryin’ about me.” A humourless laugh floated from his hollow chest. Cool silver dug into the supple flesh of your wrist as he gently pried your hand away. With a bated breath, you snatched the limb from his grasp. 
“Yeah, well someone has to.” You scoffed. Remanence of snow dusted his collar and without thinking you brushed it away, watching as it fluttered into small clouds before dispersing. 
“I did give up on it, by the way,” You frowned as your eyes flitted back up to him, brow raising in disbelief considering the blaring evidence that suggested otherwise. “But something’s been bothering me recently. You know what that is?” 
“No.”
His grin was so juvenile you struggled to fathom how this man-child before you was in actuality a twenty-two-year-old well on the way to developing his frontal lobe. 
He leant forward, resting the weight of his upper body on those muscly thighs, shallow breaths puffing hot and dewy onto your neck. There was no subtlety to his show of bravado. No attempt to hide his objective as the invisible string urged him forward, enabling his crude behaviour. 
He wanted to make you suffer. 
“The fact that I may have been the first man to have you, but in a week… I might not be the last.” 
iv.
Brighton Grammar wasn’t any ordinary school, and it certainly wasn’t for the weak.
On your first day, you witnessed a scrawny boy with haphazard streaks of green throughout his locks get tripped in the hallway and laughed at. The next day, he returned with a full head of brown hair. 
His conformity was duller, sure, but it removed a target off his back. The positive side to being different was that you stood out and the negative was that you stood out. 
It was a lose-lose situation. 
“I don’t see why you bother with all those clubs and shit.” Rafe dallied beside you with his hands stuffed in his pockets. He took it upon himself to chauffeur you between classes, and you didn’t miss the way the crowds parted for him like a proverbial red sea. 
A sense of discomfort washed over you as Rafe’s hallowed presence had both girls and boys alike turning their heads. Then there was just you. Plain old you. It was unfair, like pitting a stone against a diamond– ultimately you stood no chance.  
“I’m trying to find my passion and form connections. You should try it sometime, then maybe you won't be such a grouch.” He snarled and swerved to the side when you reached to pinch his arm. His reaction stirred a playful snicker from your lips. 
“Uh-huh. You talk like my fuckin’ grandma, y’know that?” 
“I guess that means, unlike some people I have manners.” He glared at you again, a growing grin nearly breaking his unbothered countenance. “Anyway, I am very capable of making my own decisions and I didn’t ask for your opinion.”
“You, capable? That’s not something I ever thought I’d hear.”
“Oh screw you! Starting today I am an independent woman.”
This time he barked out a laugh. “Whatever you say, sweetheart.”
You came to a halt outside the locked classroom, leaning against the bulletin board frame and waving at your classmates as they mingled amongst each other. Rafe snatched the scheduling paper from your hands, snorting when you cursed him for it. 
“General maths with Mr Dubra? Damn, all I can say is good luck.” 
His words registered someplace in your mind, but your attention had ventured elsewhere. Rafe followed your transfixed gaze to the bulletin board; a bright-coloured poster with cursive font drew you in like a moth to a flame. In the centre of the A4 page was a picture of a small collective of students, the boy at the front particularly capturing your attention as his pointed finger directed at you. 
Auditions for Brighton Grammar’s Hamlet are to be held in the auditorium during lunchtime this Thursday! Do you have what it takes thou thespian?
“I think I’ll join the theatre club.” 
Rafe’s expression could only be described as utterly mortified. “Hey if you want to be labelled a fucking loser, be my guest,” He raised his hands in surrender. “I ain't gonna stop you since you’re an ‘independent woman’ now.”
Your attempt to swing at him failed miserably as he dodged your attack with ease. 
Ironically enough, you had been joking. The spotlight never called to you the thought of that much attention made your skin crawl. What you were drawn to on the other hand was the underappreciated art of stage crew, the glue that binds a production together. 
But the ironic part of it all was that you did end up joining. For one, pathetic and degrading reason:
Thomas Hughes. The boy on the poster.
While you would describe Rafe as universally attractive, Thomas was the kind of handsome that not everyone could appreciate; a somewhat lanky build, eyes deep set into his skull as though he were eternally sleep deprived and unkempt hair tied into a loose bun. 
But most notable was his aura, one of complete self-assurance and radiating warmth. He was also in Rafe’s year level– the grade above you –and you were certain the blonde would not approve, which made it all the more thrilling. 
And for the sole reason of your silly little schoolgirl crush, you found yourself itching to get out of class after fourth period on Thursday. Unbeknownst to the pack of hounds you liked to call friends. 
“You coming to lunch?” Topper asked as you passed him in the hallway, heading in the opposite direction of the cafeteria. 
You shook your head with an affable grin. “I’ll catch up with you guys later.”
“Rafe won’t be happy.” 
“Remind me to give a fuck.” 
The auditorium was located on the west wing of the school, an old block that had been neglected by the school's previous funding. The heavy double doors creaked as you pushed through them, eyes momentarily adjusting to the dim lighting. 
At the front of the stage sat a panel. Some students, some older, presumably teachers. You took a seat a few rows behind them, intent on simply observing. 
There were six others in the crowd, bouncing their knees and fidgeting with their jewellery anxiously. All apart from one girl who sat up straight, clad in a stained white gown. She caught your intrigued gaze and softly beamed in return, offering you a wave. 
Thomas emerged from the right wing clasping a manila folder. “What a turnout, huh? Now as you probably all know, I will be starring as Hamlet–” The audience erupted in a fit of claps and he bent over into a small bow.
“Thank you, thank you, I am honoured. But more importantly, we are in desperate need of an Ophelia, Gertrude and a Polonius. The show can not go on without them! So I invite you all today to give it your best shot.” 
He gave a cue to someone in the light box and the overhead fresnels were adjusted to a neutral glow. “Well then, I don’t see any point in keeping you all waiting. Who would like to go first?”
The girl in the white gown sprung her hand up with little hesitation. “Alright, thank you, Cindy. The stage is all yours.” 
Cindy, as you now came to know her, strode up the steps, hips swaying confidently like a lioness on the prowl. She was offered a script but turned it down, “I’ve memorised this act.” Another girl in the crowd scoffed, shaking her head. 
As she began, you took note of the dip in her cadence as it transitioned from her naturally firm voice to something delicate and wispy. She had an interesting way of manoeuvring across the stage, light-footed movements carrying her graciously on the wooden surface akin to a small cloud conquering the great big sky. As her performance came to an end, the panel of judges clapped and hooted, and she hid her face in the palms of her hands as it turned notably red.  
Thomas offered his hand to help her off the stage, “Great job Cindy! Although I would add for you to maybe tone down on the crazy. It is only the beginning of the play, Ophelia is still fairly sane.” 
The gleam in her eyes faltered slightly. “Oh–uh…ok. I’ll remember that for next time.”
“If there is a next time, don’t get too cocky,” Thomas spoke without looking up from his notes, missing the way her jaw fell open in surprise. 
“Who’s next?”
The room was swept into silence, everyone glancing around with hesitation. 
“You in the back!” Your head snapped upwards, heart dropping instantly, and you awkwardly gestured to confirm that he was indeed referring to you despite the burning of eyes trained on you like being under a spotlight. “Yes, you. Since no one else was brave enough to volunteer, I nominate you.”
“Oh, well I wasn’t actually going to audition. I was just interested in seeing how this all…works.” You chuckled nervously. 
“Nonsense! We don’t bite, do we?” A chorus of ‘no we don'ts’’ echoed in the large space. “Besides, it’s worth a shot. Some people are naturals and you will never know if you don’t give it a go.” 
It wasn’t like you couldn’t refuse. These were theatre kids not abductors with a gun held to your head. But there was an indescribable intensity radiating off of them as if they could sense the refusal on the tip of your tongue, and for the first time, you felt the agonising weight of what your mother would call peer pressure.
 “Alright, why not.”
“That’s the spirit!” You were ushered up to the stage before you had the chance to reconsider, face burning and legs trembling. Thomas’s fingers scraped against yours as he handed over the script. Your breath momentarily hitched and you flinched as though a spark of electricity had been transferred between you. 
“Just read what’s been highlighted, the other shit isn’t necessary.” 
You nodded, mumbling in recognition as you noticed that at least two-quarters of the page had been highlighted in yellow. 
Inhaling deeply, you centred your focus on the script, attempting to block out the sets of eyes trained on you. You opened your mouth…and laughed. A painstakingly timorous noise that could only be controlled by slapping a hand over your traitorous lips. 
 “I’m sorry, this feels so unnatural to me.” 
“No need to apologise, we’ve all been there,” Thomas’s tone was earnest, void of any judgement and this quelled the pin-pricking sensation circulating through your extremities slightly. “How ‘bout we read through the scene first so you have a better understanding of it. Shakespearean language can be a real bastard if you’re not used to it.”
You giggled at his jocose attitude, relief washing over you like a damp cloth. “I think that would help, thank you.”
From what you gathered the scene went as follows: Ophelia's father Polonius and her brother Laertes say their good-byes, consecutively warning her not to trust Hamlet’s promises of love as well as ordering her not to see Hamlet again. 
Although you still admired her performance, Thomas’s criticism of Cindy’s portrayal made much more sense now. Though Ophelia is famously driven to madness later on in the play– accumulating in her untimely and equally ambiguous end– at this stage of the story, she is merely a heartstruck girl observing the world through rose-tinted lenses. 
“Good to go?”  
“I think so.”
“Alright, everyone! Give it up for…sorry, what’s your name?”
Your voice echoed with a newfound confidence and the crowd repeated it in a cheer. Perhaps you had been wrong, maybe you did like the spotlight, only you’d never given it the proper chance. 
Mimicking Cindy, you adopted a higher pitch. Not shrill like the birds that resided outside your window each morning, but a pleasant touch of feminine; soft and delicate. You ambled across the stage, not in the same floaty manner she had employed but instead surefooted, conveying Ophelia’s clear-mindedness at this stage of the play. Unlike Cindy, however, you did not have the lines down, forcing you to take a slower approach. But this seemed to work in your favour, your slowed speech giving you plenty of opportunity to focus on your facial expressions, ensuring that they matched what was being described in the cues. 
As your performance wrapped up and the adrenaline steadily receded, you couldn’t resist fixating on Thomas in the crowd who gazed up at you as though you hung the moon and stars in the sky. 
And for the first time at your godforsaken school, you felt seen.
v.
The hum of silence echoed in the Cameron’s dining room, encompassing the yellow walls in a damp sheen that refused to dry. Silver cutlery clinked against delicate porcelain, and as you picked away at your food, Rose smiled at you from across the table. 
“So…Rafe tells us that you’re going to be in the school’s performance, what was the name–” 
“Hamlet.” The blonde blankly interrupted, and you were surprised that he even knew that. “She’s playing the girl who kills herself.” 
Ward hummed in interest, passing you the salad bowl. “That's excellent news. Theatre was a thriving business in my generation but it seems to have become somewhat of a dying art. Good on you for keeping it alive.” 
“Well I didn’t exactly plan on joining, it just kind of happened–”
“She’s got a thing for the main guy, Tobias or some shit, that’s why she auditioned.”
“Rafe!” He grunted as you nudged his shin, lips peeling into a provoking smirk at your scolding. 
“You gonna tell me I’m wrong?” He teased with a venomous undertone only you seemed to register, and your eyes narrowed at him.
“I want to see, I want to see, who’s this guy?” Sarah wheedled with her big brown eyes. 
“Shut up, Sarah–” 
“Rafe! Do not speak to your sister that way.” Ward’s voice boomed like a deafening clap of thunder, and once his pulsating anger settled, a small cry erupted from Wheezie who tried to conceal her tears beneath a dotted napkin. Rose was quick to placate the young girl with promises of dessert, whisking her off into the kitchen but not before refilling her glass of chardonnay. 
Once they were out of sight, Ward beckoned Sarah to clamber onto his lap, folding her small face into his broad neck before regarding his son with a scalding glare. “Look at what you’ve done.”
The interaction was unsettling, to say the least, but not uncommon. Rafe’s lips pinched shut, suppressing a whimper. In the face of his father’s wrath, he would always detract from his usual tough persona, retreating into the shell of a wounded puppy. You didn’t blame him. Ward could be cruel with no regard for the effect his words had on his son, and you loathed him for his blatant favouritism. 
You reached for his hand underneath the table, intertwining the cold extremity with your own. He flinched at first, aggressively flicking his head toward you. But as you gave it a gentle squeeze he seemed to catch on to your intention and his body fell back into a relaxed state. 
You tried to be there for Rafe as much as you could, but despite your efforts, the void left by an absent father was irreplaceable. You could only try your best, but sometimes you had to put yourself first, even if that meant neglecting the needs of those closest to you. 
The production was a much bigger commitment than you initially thought. Rehearsals pulled you from classes multiple times a week and you began to worry that it could potentially detract from your other subjects. But as a young woman, the possibility of it reeling you from your scholarly responsibilities was not quite as concerning as it was that you felt you were failing at your duties as a friend. 
It had been raining consistently for the past five days. Endless bouts of downpours during spring thickened the soil and left the air with an unpleasantly muggy tinge. You and Rafe slouched against the linoleum floors of the school gymnasium, slightly obscured from view by the red curtains of the wall-length window. He shut your concerns of being caught down by offering you a swig of whatever concoction he’d brought onto school premises.
“How about instead of getting your tits in a twist about it, you have some.”
Classic Rafe. 
But you did end up having some because as soon as he began ranting you knew it was necessary for your own mental wellbeing. 
“You better fucking be there ‘cause there’s no way I can deal with all those old farts on my own.”  
“Am I even invited?” You grimaced as the bitter taste invaded your tastebuds, eagerly handing the flask back, to which he condescendingly snorted. 
A gathering with Ward and his highly esteemed guests could only entail boredom to a deadly degree. Even thinking about it made you yawn, but on the other hand, you would feel bad if Rafe had to endure it on his own.  
“Dad says you're more than welcome, he likes having you around,” He let out a small chuckle, ruffling his short bangs. “He says you keep me sane like we’re an old married couple or some shit.”
At that, you couldn’t help but barked out in laughter. “Yeah right. Say we ever did hypothetically get married, one of us would probably end up killing the other.”
“Yeahhh, probably.”
 He drank again, eyeing you scrupulously, and in that moment you wished you could climb into his brain to know what he was thinking. There was a brief awkward pause before you cleared your throat and asked, “Wait, when did you say this was again?” 
“Friday, afterschool…why?”
“Shit, Rafe–”
“Nah. You gotta be fucking kiddin’ me, again. They can’t keep you after school on a Friday! That’s criminal.”
“I know, trust me I agree.”
“Don’t go then.” He countered with a raised brow, testing you. 
“I would If I could, you know that. But there’s two weeks till the show, there’s just too much to do.” 
“Sure, whatever you say.” He lifted the silver cylinder back up to his lips, taking a long swig. 
“Rafe,” You sighed, trying to reason with him. “Please don’t be mad at me, I’m sorry–”
You were cut off as the doors to the gym groaned, opening to reveal the last person you expected to see.
Thomas. 
“Oh, hey. What’s up?” He seemed surprised to see you, but even more surprised to see you with Rafe, eyes flickering between you with confusion. 
“Hi Thomas, we were just,” His attention flitted down to the flask, incriminating evidence that you quickly swept beneath Rafe’s folded leg, “Uh, what are you doing here? Never took you as the sporting kind of lad.”
Shit, that was bad. As if Rafe was thinking the same thing, he snorted into his fist. You wanted to crumble right then and there.
Thomas seemed to find your comment amusing, however, bowing his head as he chortled. “Damn, it’s that obvious, huh? But nah, I’m just tryna help Cindy find her phone. I would ask what you guys are up to, but…well, I don’t really wanna know.” 
“Ah, well I hope she finds it. We didn’t see anything, did we, Rafe?”
“Nope.” He popped his ‘p’ when answering, and you frowned, unimpressed by his cavalier attitude. “Hey man, why don’t you join us?” 
Rafe tilted his head at Thomas in what would appear to the average eye as a friendly gesture but you knew better; he was up to no good. 
“I would. But as I said, I gotta–”
“Oh c'mon, I’m sure she could do with the detox.”
“Uh…”
“Is that a yes?” He gestured toward you, “She won’t mind. In fact, I think she’d much prefer to hang out with you than me–”
Classic Rafe. You desperately waved your hands at Thomas, attempting to damage control before he had the opportunity to make the situation even more awkward. “Don’t listen to him, he’s way too used to getting his way. Go if you need to.”
A brief glint of relief flashed across Thomas’s features, and like a rabbit caught in a tiff, he seized the opportunity you provided to flee. “You’re right, I really ought to go. Thanks for the offer though, man. See you both around.” 
As soon as the doors clicked shut again, you wasted no time. Rafe didn’t even attempt to defend himself against your slew of attacks, simply taking your weak hits for what they were.
“What the fuck was that?” You finally hissed out once you’d calmed down. 
“What was what?”
“Don’t be a moron, are you trying to embarrass me?” 
“Oh, sorry for being a good wingman.” His shrug was insouciant, further frustrating you. 
“What you’re being is a pain in my ass.” 
He didn’t react to that in the way you expected. Generally, he found the humour in your insults, but this time a coldness you weren’t accustomed to receiving glazed over his eyes.
“You really like this guy, huh?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Cut the shit. You’ve only ever acted like this with that kid who proposed to you in the sandpit.” As you stood he sighed, realising you were refusing to engage in this conversation. “So will I see you on Friday or not?”
“Probably not.”
“See! I knew you’d rather hang out with him than me!” He shouted after you as you stormed off to your next class, gait regretfully swaying as the effects of Rafe’s concoction set in.
In the weeks leading up to the performance, things only became more hectic. If you were to get your cortisol levels tested the results would likely conclude abnormally high. To make matters worse, Rafe was mad at you. Topper and Kelce tried to assure you that he wasn’t, but you knew better. He didn’t respond to your texts, barely acknowledged your presence at school and hadn’t invited you over in a week. All very abnormal behaviours as, while yes, he was an inherit dickhead, you were usually exempt from this. 
So naturally, you did what any normal person in such circumstances would do; gave him the same treatment in return. Only acknowledging the damage his behaviour was inflicting upon you in furious scribbles in your lavender spiral diary. 
You were having your costume fitted in the small dressing room adjacent to the auditorium. Cindy was booked for her appointment afterwards and in the meantime she lazed on the tattered purple couch in the corner of the room, scrolling through her phone. 
A girl from the costume department examined the logistical functioning of your costume as there were a few instances in the performance where a quick change was necessary. Her vivacious red curls bounced as she turned the room upside down in search of her pins. 
“Ok then, you’re pretty much done. I’ll just have to hem the base so we adhere to theatre-safe practices and all that stupid shit they assess…” She paused and eyed you over, tugging at the loose sleeve of your dress with a hum. “You look so pretty, like a fairy.”
“Thank you.” You bashfully smiled. She returned it before turning to the other girl in the room.
“Cindy.” 
“Hm?”
“Cindy.” 
“What?” She snapped, tearing her gaze from her phone. 
“What do you think?”
“I mean it’s alright” She shrugged, face peeling into a saccharine grin. “Not really your colour but you definitely suit rags.”
 You would’ve burst out into laughter had you not been so shocked.
“Now I remember why I don’t ask for your opinion,” The redhead rolled her eyes, shoving Cindy’s garment bag into her lap. “Be useful and get changed into this. I’ll get started on you in a moment.”
Once Cindy had left the room, she bowed her head apologising. 
“I’m guessing you’re not her biggest fan?” 
“Not a fan, period.” She sullenly snorted. “She’s a sanctimonious bitch who can’t keep her nose out of other peoples’ business.”
“She’s pretty at least.” You tried to see the best in people, despite how difficult they made it for you. 
“Well, that’s about all she has to offer. I’m Edie, by the way.”
And the rest was history. 
Similarly to the majority of the cast and crew, Edie was in Rafe’s grade. And when she discovered (during your break on Friday rehearsals) that you knew the infamous blonde personally, you did not hear the end of it.
“You’re friends with Rafe Cameron?” Her jaw fell open so quickly that you worried it would pop out of alignment. 
“Yeah, I mean we practically grew up together. I’ve spent half my life at his house.”
“You go to his house?! Holy fuck, you’ve been living my dream life like it’s nothing to you.”
“Trust me it’s not as good as you might think. He can be a real ass–”
“Hope you’re not talkin’ about me?” An arm suddenly snaked over your shoulder. The limb was heavy but warm– comforting –and emanated a pleasant aroma. Thomas let his hair hang loose today, long ebony strands pirouetting over the surface of your skin when you glanced up at him.
“Ah-ha not specifically, but I don’t know, maybe it applies to you too.”
In true theatrical style, he sputtered out a choking noise, clasping onto his chest to imitate immense pain. “Ouch. I think you just broke my heart.”
“Oh really? I didn’t realise Martians could feel pain.”
He gasped, and Edie chuckled at the interaction from beside you, shaking her head at your antics. “O-kay as cute as that was, can we please get back to the topic of Rafe.”
Thomas’s expression pinched in discomfort at the mention of the blonde and you recalled your last interaction with them both, inwardly cringing. “Does he have a problem with me or something? I feel like he does.”
“Wouldn’t be surprising. He’s always looking to have a problem with someone.”
“Seems to tolerate you though.”
“Barely,” He opened his mouth to respond but was beaten to it by a loud screech sounding out the syllables of his name. Cindy stood atop the stage, tapping her foot rhythmically against the solid wood with her arms crossed over her chest, not bothering to contain her lour. 
“Thomas!” her voice pierced across the auditorium again like one of those pesky drillers going off on a Sunday morning. “I want to go over the cues for this scene, c’mon.”
“Hey,” Edie halted him as he begrudgingly moved to acquiesce to her demand, “Just remember you have free will.”
“Well look how far that’s gotten me.” 
You weren’t sure what he meant by that, as though it were some cryptic message you’d been tasked to decode. He smiled, bidding you both goodbye with a simple wave and you paused for a moment, observing as he trudged away. 
Edie cleared her throat and you were snapped out of your daze, returning to the present only to realise– with much dismay –that your face had been donned with a damning grin. Her brow quirked and you knew what was coming. 
“What’s that look for?” 
“Something you wanna tell me?”
“Um… I don’t think so?” Your voice came out in a pathetic squeak and you cleared it, although the damage had already been done. 
“Oh come on,” She scoffed with an omniscient smirk, “You’re about as transparent as my gran’s panties…You like him.”
“Not you too.” You groaned, pivoting on your heels to take a seat in one of the rows of chairs furthest away from anyone else. If she wanted to have this conversation it was going to be out of earshot. Lest someone else managed to uncover your secret it would soon spread like wildfire. Her girlish giggle followed, and she saddled up beside you. 
“There’s no shame in it, babe. Tom’s a good guy, and you seem to get along…but–”
“But what?” 
Her expression soured, as though the words on the tip of her tongue were full of bile. “One thing you should know about Tom is that for many years, he had a thing for Cindy,” Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, “She rejected and rejected him, and eventually he moved on…but she didn’t like that. Not one bit. But now it seems the tables have turned. Did you know she fucking hates theatre?”
“Doesn’t seem that way to me.” You were prompted to glance up onto the stage where the two were currently rehearsing; she made it seem so effortless. How could she hate the things she was good at?
“Exactly. That’s why she’s so dangerous, she can keep up a good act.”
“I see…” This information shouldn’t have unsettled you. The past was set in stone for a reason and it was only possible for it to be resurfaced if you allowed it to. But it did unsettle you. Cindy possessed a classic kind of beauty you weren’t sure you could compete with. “So do you think if she were to ever bring it up, he would go for her again?”
“Hard to tell, with both of them. I’m pretty sure it’s just a game to her, she likes the attention. But as for Thomas, I think he’s beginning to see things clearer now.”
You tilted your head, unsure of what she meant by that.
“He’s not thinking with his dick.” She clarified bluntly, the crass wording making you gasp and then chuckle.
“Right. Good to know.”
Your phone vibrated from within your jeans pocket and you were surprised to see that it was Rafe calling you, considering you’d essentially gone with no contact for days. Assuming the worst, you excused yourself.
As you placed the phone to your ear you could only manage to make out a whooshing sound as though he were standing atop a viciously windy mountain. Then it stopped in tandem with what sounded to be like a string of expletives before he finally spoke.
“Yooo, what’s up? You coming?” Your brows furrowed at his elated tone. Last you’d checked, he was ignoring you. 
“Rafe, I already told you I can't–”
“Chill, it's fine. Got dumb and dumber to come over, keep me entertained”
“The fuck you just call us?” Topper and Kelce both shouted in unison somewhere in the background. Aside from their outburst, you couldn’t make out any other noise so you imagined they’d locked themselves away from all the action with Ward and his friends. Rafe detested hanging out with the oldies.
“OK, good. Saves me from feeling bad. But are you alright, you sound a bit…” Happy. The word you were grasping for was happy because you couldn’t remember the last time he’d sounded so carefree. 
“Better than ever!” 
“And are we ok?” 
“Yeahhh, you’re too cute to stay mad at for long.”
His response stifled you for a moment. “That’s real funny, Rafe.”
But in the coming days, something told you this may not be the case. 
Instead of avoiding you, Rafe wasn’t even showing up to school anymore. You were worried he was still clinging onto the remnants of his unjust anger until you received another phone call at 2:30 am, the night before your performance.
“Rafe…” You rubbed the sleep from your eyes, voice groggy and disoriented as you checked the glaring red lines on your digital clock. “What’s wrong? Do you even know what time it is?”
“Yeah, uh I’m sorry…” He sniffed. “I’m outside, can I come– ah actually y’know what just come out front, will you?” 
You paused. On any ordinary occasion, you’d have told him to piss off, too tired and frustrated to entertain his larks. But a stab of concern reared its ugly head at his shakey tone– this was very out of character.   
“Yeah, yeah of course. I’ll be out in a minute.”
It was a blisteringly cold night so you shrugged on a coat before trekking downstairs quietly, praying your parents weren’t lying awake to witness you sneaking out of the house in the wee hours. 
The front door scraped against the doormat as it opened. Rafe remained slumped against one of the white veranda pillars, motionless, as though he hadn’t heard you. His breaths were heavy, and upon assessing him you frowned at the fact that he was merely clad in a thin polo shirt and khaki shorts. 
“...Rafe?” You brushed your fingers gingerly across the wide expanse of his shoulders. He violently flinched, whipping around as though your touch was a burning affliction upon his supple skin. But his harsh reaction quickly softened when he saw it was just you.
 “Shit, don’t do that.”
“Sorry.” You whispered, dragging your eyes from his head down to his toes, assessing for any injuries. His unmarred skin left you stumped and it was only when you honed in on his frantic gaze did the issue finally dawned on you.
“Are you high?” 
Your question seemed to strike a nerve. He scrunched his face within his hands, as though he were in pain.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I-it’s like I’m seeing shit and hearing shit and my head hurts so fucking bad.” He was reacting badly. “And all I could think about was seeing you.”
“Did you fight with Ward?” This time he didn’t flinch as you grabbed onto his bicep, hoping to ground him. 
“Yeah, uh, yeah he’s just–”
“It’s alright, you don’t have to explain that right now. I’m here.” His burly arms engulfed you as he accepted your hug. You entangled yourself within his embrace, understanding that right now, all he desired was some comfort. 
“Thanks.” 
His voice was muffled by the position with his head stuffed into your shoulder. You gently tighten your hold in response, focusing on the rapid stuttering of his heartbeat which gradually slowed and levelled out into a calmer rhythm.    
What came next was like an inevitable chain of events: both of you pulled back at the same time and a frisson of confusion swept over you as he remained there, content with your noses practically intertwining. Although you weren’t confused. No. You were evading the truth. The truth that had become crystallised at this moment, glistening so bright you could hardly ignore it. 
One moment you were pinned to the spot by his sodden gaze, sporadically alternating between each region of your face. Mapping out each detail but notably lingering on your lips. Emotions raged within those viridian orbs like a violent coastal storm, threatening to destroy whatever stability you had left. 
Then, as though it were natural to him, he met you in the middle. 
You’d never experienced anything like it, and any story you’d been told was not comparable. His lips were firm and demanding in a way that surprised you and there was not a single trace of hesitation in his movement, as though he’d been waiting for this moment for a long time. 
Reality came crashing into you like a truck; you were kissing your best friend. The boy you bathed with as a child, who allowed you to snot into his sleeve as you wept and who vowed to protect you from the plight of men; It felt nice, but this sentiment was so heavily outweighed by the fact that it felt wrong. 
This revelation ignited your dormant reflexes. As he began to paw at your lower back, you realised this had gone too far. 
The rate at which you pushed him away stunned even you, and a wave of guilt ebbed through your system as his back collided with the pillar; you didn’t mean to be so harsh, after all, he was already in a vulnerable state. He remained crumpled in that position, fingers ghosting over his lips as if he were attempting to savour the taste of your own. 
“Shit, I-I’m always fucking up, I’m sorry,” He cupped your chin, the action causing you to jerk. “Sorry.” 
It unnerved how contrived his apology sounded, and you wondered if he could hear it too. 
“Uh-no no it’s ok,” Your body was frozen in a state of shock. “You're all over the place,” Surely he’d brush this off as a mistake by morning. “let's get you inside, yeah?”
His eyes glazed over your face once again, scrupulously this time, as though he were searching for something. He nodded when he didn’t find it, seemingly wanting to say more as he brushed the back of his neck but he chose to remain silent as you led him inside. 
It wasn’t unusual for you to share a bed; you’d done so numerous times in the past. But it felt different now, like an invitation you were reluctant to hand out. You wanted to be there for Rafe, but you couldn’t let him get confused.
So you lay there, keeping an appropriate amount of distance from the snoring blonde. If you acted normal, things would remain as they always had, right? Would it be swiped under the rug? Deep down you realised the implications of what had just occurred, and the potential for your…brief mistake to alter both of your futures. It was a classic tale, one you’d heard so many times (both in reality and fiction) it had burned deep into your psyche. A slow evolution between boy and girl, from friendship to beyond. But that didn’t mean you'd end like that, you repeated it over and over again like a mantra. 
You just couldn’t.
So you lay there, deciding to enjoy this peaceful moment. Naturally, your mind drifts over it all: the play, Thomas, and Rafe beside you. All share a common denominator– pumping your life full of both excitement and stress. 
But as the saying goes; all good things must come to an end. 
vi.
Rafe experienced what you liked to call a reverse metamorphosis during your senior year. 
Why reverse? Well, instead of transforming from a raggedy moth, expanding his wings to flourish as a butterfly, he took a drastic turn for the worse; as though he’d retreated into a slimy cocoon. 
Not that he’d ever been exceptionally well-behaved throughout his schooling years– busted for truancy more times than you could count, dabbling in all sorts of allusive substances among other nefarious things that you try not to dwell on –but as a recent graduate privileged with all the resources needed to pave a bright future, you had at least expected he’d try.
Unfortunately, things didn’t always pan out as you imagined they would. 
If he wasn’t drunk, or at least on the brink of it, then he was under the influence of some other powdery or herbal substance. Wasting his days away under the soft confinements of his bedding, recovering from late nights and remaining slumped against the toilet for the better half of his waking hours. Then he’d repeat the cycle, with absolutely no lessons learnt. 
Sometimes you’d receive a call. Incoherent slurs that reminded you of that fateful night months ago, where lines were blurred and boundaries crossed. His drunken words held no meaning, right? That’s what you would tell yourself, like a mantra, over and over until your mind believed what it heard the most. 
Nonetheless, you couldn’t spend your whole life worrying about Rafe. Not when you had other, more imperative issues at hand. 
Or… between your legs. 
The nonsensical droning emitted from the food network on your TV fell on deaf ears as you sat perched on Thomas's lap. The weight of your knees was supported by cherry sheets and pink frilly pillows as your lips moved against his at a languid pace. It was soft, sensual…tame, but at the same time exhilarating, and you trusted Thomas to guide you through it.
He let out a low groan as your fingers absentmindedly tugged on his shiny locks. Much to your dismay, he recently cut his hair shorter than it's ever been; his new look attracted attention from those who previously dismissed him, and this stoked the flames of unease within you.
You lowered your position, leaning impossibly closer until your chest brushed against the flimsy cotton of his t-shirt. A jolt of electricity transmitted up your spine as his hands found purchase on your lower back, traversing dangerously low, and a soft whimper floated from your chest.
But as you were still discovering, the art of intimacy was much more complex than you initially believed, and you hadn’t quite learnt how to toe the line.
Without thinking, your thumbs dipped into the waistline of his pants. Just barely tickling the surface, but enough to make Thomas jerk his head back, the hasty action subsequently halting your heated movements. 
 “What’re you doing?” His voice was outlandishly thick as his breaths came out in heavy puffs, scented in confusion. 
“I-i just thought…” You sat back, feeling suddenly unmoored. “Sorry, am I doing something wrong?”
“Of course not, just not right now, ok?” His deft fingers kneaded into your side, but their intended comforting effect did nothing to quell the pang of his rejection. 
“Sure.” You halfheartedly smiled, slipping off of his warm body to settle by his side. 
Had you been as stiff as a board this entire time? And why was your bedroom becoming increasingly suffocating? As though the walls unanimously decided to close in and focus every second of awkwardness into one concentrated area. 
“Wanna watch a movie?” Thomas eventually broke the heavy silence, refusing to broach the elephant in the room– which you were thankful for.
Clearing your throat, you rolled out of your bed, pulling on a pair of fuzzy socks. “Yeah, I’ll-uh get us something to eat. You choose the movie.”
Your relationship with Thomas had been smooth sailing…until it wasn't. 
As you busied yourself slicing up a platter of fruit in the kitchen, you couldn’t resist analysing each possibility as to why. Thomas was acting strangely. This wasn’t an assumption, and it couldn’t have been a coincidence that his change in demeanour always seemed to occur in your presence. So then what were you doing wrong? And why did he insist on keeping you in the dark?
Your train of thought came to an abrupt halt as you noticed an onslaught of notifications popping up on your phone. With an exasperated groan, you leaned over the bench to see who dared to disrupt your moment's peace.
Rafe. Could you get a break?
To: Princess Rafe 🙄👑  Piss off I’m busy.
You left it there, praying to any deity willing to lend you an ear that that would suffice. But clearly, you’d also managed to vex the higher beings, as his response was immediate:
From: Princess Rafe 🙄👑 I’m going 74 mph yet I take the time to talk to you 🖕
Yep. No break for you. 
To: Princess Rafe 🙄👑  ???? Dude get off your fucking phone. 
From: Princess Rafe 🙄👑 Since you asked so nicely.
And if his cavalier regard for the law wasn’t bad enough, his next message sent your jaw straight to the floor.
“Nope. Not dealing with this.” You shoved your phone into your pocket, ignoring the buzz of a new notification, both for your sanity and Rafe’s safety. 
When you returned to your room, Thomas had migrated to the carpet, perched atop a pile of decorative pillows you’d previously discarded onto the floor as he flicked through the pages of a familiar lavender spiral notebook. 
You gasped, the realisation of what he was rifling through and slapping you right across the face. 
“Oh, hey.” He smirked– that sick, condescending bastard!
“STOP!” You screeched, and his laughter verged on hysterical. “Put. That. Down.”
He swiftly dogged the stuffed animals you pelted in his direction, pouting derisively as you proceeded to storm towards him. “Aw, why would I do that? I was just getting to the part where you’ve described my scent. Lemon myrtle? That’s pretty specific, it’s actually musk–”
“Thomas.” Your tone acquired a sharp edge, but clearly, he hadn’t tortured you enough as he teasingly flicked to the newer entries.  
“Oh, and what’s this…” His posture went lax, abruptly pausing. His wide eyes darted in between the lines as though the words were a mirage he was reluctant to put his trust in. Then his lips pulled down into a small frown, and your stomach clenched. 
“What? Where the hell are you up to?” Your attempt to snatch at the book was fruitless as he kept it raised well above your reach. “Wha–”   
 “Alright, I’ve had enough of this game for one night. Let’s watch the movie.” You stumbled to catch the book as he carelessly discarded it, pivoting around you as he flopped back onto the bed.
“Okay…but don’t make a habit of breaching my privacy.” Your laugh was intended to lighten the mood, but it seemed to have the opposite effect. 
“Why, got something to hide?” He sullenly spoke, staring at the ceiling. Again, the inexplicable tension had wormed its back into your room. It was like a stubborn parasite that adapted to its surroundings, never completely disappearing. 
“Nothing too damning I’d imagine.”
The movie Thomas chose was a 20th-century romantic tragedy featuring many themes typical of that era such as misogyny and class which made your eyes roll. Your attention to the plot was continually hijacked as Rafe continued to flood your phone with messages, making it difficult to follow along with the plot. You’d been in the middle of responding to one of his many texts (complaining about how some guy at a party was getting on his nerves) when the movie suddenly paused.
“Mm, why'd you pause it?” You peeled your eyes from the screen to be met by Thomas’s blank ones.
“Can I ask you something? And I want you to just be honest with me, don’t tell me what I want to hear.”
“Uh, sure.” His quick transition into seriousness caught you by surprise, and your body tensed like a coiled spring. 
“Alright look, I hate to be this guy,” His face scrunched into a grimace as he glanced anywhere but your eyes. “But you’d tell me if there was someone else, wouldn’t you?”
“Someone else? What do you mean?”
He sighed, clearly frustrated. “Let me be more clear then. If you liked someone else, would you string me along…or would you break things off?”
You couldn’t believe what you were hearing, now twisting your body to face him with a scoff. “Who do you think I am, Thomas? I was the one who asked you out, remember? That wasn’t on a whim, I did that because I liked you.”
“Liked?”
You groaned. Why was he making this so complicated?
 “Liked, like. What difference does it make? To me, this seems like you are trying to come to the conclusion you want to hear?”
“I’m not jumping to conclusions, just tryna test my hypothesis.”
“Okay, and what’s that?” Probing information out of him was like bribing a kid with vegetables; fucking tedious. 
“That you care about Rafe more than you’re letting on, maybe more than you even realise.”
“What?” You almost laughed in disbelief. Where was this even coming from? “He’s one of my best friends, wouldn’t it be more concerning if I didn’t care for him?”
“I never said you couldn’t care about him to a normal degree, but he may as well be in the room with us! It’s never just me and you, he’s always occupying your mind. Do you not stop to think about how that makes me feel?” 
He did have a point. Rafe was like a dog, constantly demanding your attention, and it had been that way since the day you met him. Still, you sat there in shock, realising he must’ve been bottling this up for some time now. 
“I didn’t mean- well alright if we’re suddenly being honest, half the time I’m with you it feels like you don’t even want me there.”
“What does that mean?” Now it was his turn to sound confused, offended even.
“You confuse me! One moment you’re all over me and the next you’re pushing me away as though I make your skin crawl.” 
He paused, contemplatively digesting your words before his pretty features twisted into an indignant scowl. “So does that excuse what you did? Because I don’t show you enough attention?”
“What did I do?” You were at your wit’s end.
“Oh stop pretending like you don’t know what I’m talking about. I saw it, written in your pretty fucking handwritten; you kissed him.”
Oh. Shit. Of all entries, it was that one he had to have read; which did not paint the clearest picture of that night. You got halfway through documenting what had happened before stopping right at the point when you realised it was wrong, no longer feeling in the mood to relive the moment…no wonder he was furious. 
“It’s not what you think.” You internally cursed yourself for how cliche that sounded. 
“No? Enlighten me then.” He sat up straight like a judge awaiting your testimony from a convicted criminal. 
“Rafe has issues…okay. Stuff at home, and he’s never known how to cope on his own–”
“Oh right, so that’s where you come into play. Are your lips like some magical cure for interpersonal issues?” He queried cynically. 
“Would you shut up and listen!” This time, he reared back at your outburst, “That night he was really out of it. I’m talking delirious, like some rabid dog. He kissed me, not the other way round, and I stopped it because it didn't feel right… and because I liked you.”
You could see the cogs churning in Thomas's mind as he absorbed your words, taking the time to process each one. With a gentle gaze, he met your eyes, his expression softening into an apologetic smile.
 “I see. This all happened before we got together?” 
“Yes, of course it was before. I would never do something like that to you,” His drop in hostility spurred you to lean forward, dragging his warm limbs into your embrace, “I promise.” 
Surely this would be the end of it. It had to be. Everything was out in the open, and miscommunications cleared. But when you pulled back, his guilty grimace told you otherwise. 
“There’s something else I have to tell you.”
vii.
Ring. 
Ring. 
Ring. 
Ring. 
Another fervid sob was ripped from your maw. You burned from within, rife with malice clawing up your raw oesophagus till it was raw and prying through your lips in ugly bated breaths. You allowed a moment to pass before trying again. 
Ring. 
Ring. 
Ring. 
“You ignore my fuckin’ texts and now you wanna talk.”
“Rafe,” Your cracked voice butchered the syllables of his name, sounding almost unrecognisable. Pathetic. “Can I see you?”
Not even 10 seconds later a notification appeared on your phone. He’d shared his location, some vaguely familiar residence on the outskirts of your neighbourhood. 
“What–”
“I’ll see you soon.”
Being vulnerable wasn’t your forte, nor was it Rafe’s, and there was no doubt he was currently perplexed by your sudden change of heart. But tonight, you needed someone. And that’s how you found yourself stepping into a stranger's house at 12:45 am, scouring the misty rooms in search of a familiar burly figure. 
A low whistle piqued your attention. Topper emerged from the kitchen as you were passing by, two red solo cups in his possession. “Didn’t expect to see you here, not that I’m complaining.”
His eyes quickly swept over your frame, the respectful gentleman he was. You couldn’t contain your scoff. Even in black track pants and a muted pink top… guys really could be attracted to anything as long as it walked on two hind legs. 
“Bit cliche, don’t you think, Top.” You retorted with a halfhearted snort, gesturing to the cups. What was this, a freshman's first house party?
He rolled his eyes, extending one to you. The nefarious liquid sloshed over the rim and you shook your head. “Uh, no I’m good, thanks.”
He fixed you with a pointed look. “It looks like you could use it.”
With a huff, you snatched the cup from him, to which he chuckled. “I hate how you’re always right.”
He began to ferry you toward Kelce and their gaggle of friends who huddled around a small coffee table in the living room, passing a clumsily rolled joint between them. When Kelce’s wide-set brown eyes landed on you, he abruptly stood, knocking the table's contents in doing so as he manhandled you into his side. 
“How’s my favourite girl doing?”
He balanced the joint between two fingers, residual smoke clung to his body in a damp sheen. Your eyes watered as you suppressed a cough, “Fine, until I caught a whiff of you.”
“C’mon, nothing takes the edge off like a good toke.” He waved it in front of your face, an offer, snorting as your face contorted into a grimace. 
“As great as that sounds,” You pushed his arm off its perch on your shoulder with a bitter smile. “Is Rafe here?”
“Yeah, pretty sure he went upstairs.” His hand absentmindedly flicked toward the staircase and you quickly excused yourself before they could become too attached to your presence.
The ambience upstairs was much more quaint than below, mainly consisting of couples who split off from their respective groups. A few were making out, some others collapsed asleep on the furnished floorboards; typical party antics reminding you as to why you generally avoided these places. 
The walk from your house had cooled your system, remedying your flighty instincts ever so slightly. This you were thankful for, as upon opening the final door along the lengthy hallway, you were met with Rafe’s determined gaze, and you knew he would demand answers.
“Been messaging you.” The mattress creaked as he lifted his weight off its surface. His gait was straight and steady, and this was perhaps the closest to sober you’d seen him in a long time.
“I know, I just wanted to see you in person.” Despite your best efforts, the burning of your eyes became so overbearing and you fought to hold back the overwhelming emotions coursing through your veins. It was like the moment someone asks if you're okay when it's obvious you're not, the floodgates open and emotions come crashing down around you in an unrelenting wave.
“Hey hey hey, what the fuck happened to you?” He rushed over, forcing you to face him with a firm grip on your shoulders. 
“It doesn’t matter.” 
“The fuck it does,” His hands rubbed over his face exasperatedly as though he were controlling the urge to be rougher with you and extract an answer forcefully. “You can’t call me all hysterically crying and shit then give me nothing. Did someone hurt you? Did Thomas do something?”
The mere mention of his name sent you spiralling even further. “Alright, come on, sit down.” Rafe didn’t give you much of an option, dragging you to the bed in an iron grip and then forcing you onto the black sheets as he sat beside you. 
“What happened?” 
“It’s Thomas.” You affirmed solemnly. 
 “I’ll kill him.” He seethed through his teeth and your head violently shook. 
“No, no I won’t tell you if that’s how you’re gonna respond.” He went to ark up but you interrupted him before he had the chance. “Rafe, I'm serious.”
“I’ll decide for myself once you tell me.”
With a heavy sigh, you finally conceded. “Do you remember that one girl from my theatre club? The diva one?”
“Who?” 
“Cindy! Blonde hair, beautiful. She was in your year level.”
Rafe’s brows furrowed in confusion. “I seriously don’t know who the fuck that is.”
“Whatever, it doesn’t matter. Anyway, before me and Thomas started…dating, I found out he had a thing for her for quite some time.”
“So?”
“Jesus- just let me finish!” He reluctantly relented, nodding for you to continue. “Since you’re so impatient, I’ll tell you the short version: Thomas stopped liking her then me and him started dating. He thought we had something going on secretly and confided in Cindy…then he used that to justify sleeping with her.”
The silence that followed was like dust settling back onto the road; static but still very much disturbed. 
“What.” 
“There’s nothing else to say.” You croaked, dabbing your sodden eyes on your sleeve.
Not a moment later he shot up, pacing back and forth a few times before submitting to the battle raging in his head and storming toward the door. “Rafe, no you promised me–”
“I didn’t promise you shit!” He whipped back around to face you, face wild with fury. “That motherfucker is gonna get what’s coming for him!”
“RAFE.” His cheeks were ablaze as you cupped them in your hands, eyes darting around sporadically as though he were high on adrenaline. “Please, I need you right now. What happens next is for another time. Let it rest.”
His nostrils flared as he finally met your eyes. You pulled him closer, sensing your words were having an effect, softly whispering another plea– and it was like deja vu when his lips met yours for the second time. Only it wasn’t. As he pressed himself firmly against you, unyielding in his advance, you realised this was truly happening again… and to your horror, it felt nice. 
In fact, you didn’t want it to stop. 
In the time you’d been together with…Thomas…the intimate experiences you shared allowed you to act with heightened confidence, no longer feeling the need to skittishly paw at his chest like a bunny caught by the big bad wolf. Now you moved with your own validity, placing your hands upon his taut chest and following the pace he set. 
His palm suddenly clamped down on your ass and you gasped into his mouth, surprised. Thomas was a respectful lover, never so daring, but Rafe’s impulsivity stirred a concoction of excitement and nervousness within your belly. 
He took this window of opportunity to dip the tip of his tongue into your mouth. Testing the waters at first, and when you showed no signs of disapproval, delving full throttle. “Shit,” He groaned, using his grip on your lower half as leverage to guide you backwards. 
Your libidinous scrambled brain only registered his intention when the backs of your knees came into contact with the bed, instigating your loss of balance. A pathetic squeak floated from your throat as you fell onto the soft confinements of whoever's sheets these were. 
Rafe didn’t hesitate to slot himself between your parted knees, crawling over your limp body like a predator readying itself to ravage a meal. His head dipped into the crevice of your neck, planting strategically placed kisses and sucking on the tender flesh, subsequently sowing the seeds of your growing excitement. 
But as he remained in that position– feverish palms exploring your clothed body, hot enough to burn through the fabric –your heart began to race. Why did you feel a shudder of anticipation run down your spine? What if he were to stop and really look at you? Why were you scared?
It wasn't until he gained the confidence to explore the curve of your body beneath the fabric that you jolted back into reality, your heart racing and breath catching in your throat.
“Wait!” He peeled himself off of you with an expectant look, blown pupils peeved by your interruption. “I’ve, uh-... never done this before.”
You whispered it, timorously, ashamed even. 
You were expecting rejection, after all, that was the only response you ever received from Thomas. What you weren’t expecting, however, was his lips to twitch up in a haughty smirk, his desire for you not faltering whatsoever. You would even go as far as to say that the gleam that appeared in his eyes indicated that he found this revelation rather pleasing. 
“You trust me?” 
Your nod was automatic like a reflex, saving you from mulling over the question too deeply. In response he sat back on his thighs, swatting away your hands which had fallen to your stomach (perhaps subconsciously attempting to create a separation between the two of you) allowing him to slide your loose shirt above your navel and then over your chest, the material bunching around your neck. He marvelled at the exposed skin, tentatively brushing over your stomach causing you to squirm at the new sensation. 
“Then lay back and relax, sweetheart.” 
From then on, the sequence of events was a blur; a tangle of limbs and a symphony of noises all coming together to form an incoherent memory. 
Your shirt was the first to come off, followed shortly by his. Rafe’s bare chest was nothing you hadn’t seen before, but in this context, your vision was obscured by a rose tint. His sculpted biceps flexed as he worked on tugging your pants down and you couldn’t help but notice the way he tucked his lower lip between his teeth in concentration or the dewy sheen covering his skin. 
It was akin to looking into a kaleidoscope for the first time and not knowing where to cast your gaze.
“If he thinks he can hurt you like this,” His firm lips danced across your throat.“Then he’s got another thing coming.” 
He spoke in a harsh growl, hooking his fingers beneath the straps of your bra and dragging them down in one sweeping motion. 
You squeaked in shock, heat blossoming beneath your cheeks at the abrupt exposure of your tits. Your tingling nipples quickly began to harden, and you weren’t sure if this was due to the draft slipping through the slightly ajar window or the firm attention Rafe was paying to your flesh. 
Nonetheless, your arms instinctively twitched upwards, preparing to cover yourself from his prying eyes. He anticipated this, however, promptly collecting your wrists and pinning them beside your head. 
“Don’t, don’t do that.” His voice exploded into a vehement tone. “I don’t even remember who that bitch is, let alone what she looks like…think that’s saying something.” 
Before your short-circuiting brain could formulate a response, his lips descended upon your chest, laving at one of the sensitive buds before sucking on it harshly. Your body reacted viscerally, flailing at the newfound stimulation. You mewled, squirming, as he pulled away with a breathless chuckle.
“See what a girl like you does to a man.” He forced one of your hands down to his boxers. Your eyes widened as you felt how hard he was, and you let out a soft gasp as he throbbed around your palm.
“Feel that? Yeah, that’s all you baby.”
“Rafe, ple–” Your breath hitched as his knee drove forward, the delicious pressure nudging into your clothed core. 
“Go on, I want to hear you say it.” 
“Please…”
“Already speechless? That’s cute.” His words had you shrinking in on yourself, trying to flee from the heat radiating off his body. “It’s alright, I know what you need.”
While your racing thoughts kept you occupied (as well as demanding lips), you were oblivious to the fact that Rafe had removed his knee from between your legs, opting to slink his deft fingers inside the flimsy cotton of your underwear. That was, of course, until you felt something foreign swiping against your most sensitive area, teasingly prodding at the tight entrance. You flinched, shuddering beneath the unfamiliarity of his touch.
“I’m gonna fuck you now, is that okay?”
Your head bobbed up and down ardently, voice tiny and breathless and he grinned. “Ok.”
“Okay then.” 
Your body fell in and out of consciousness, wrecked from a night filled with both pleasure and anguish. When you finally woke up, it was well into the night. The heavy breaths falling onto you from behind drowned out the eerie silence of the house. A gust of wind howled through the night sky, and your naked form shivered as the cold managed to slither beneath the sheets.
Rafe’s arm laid heavy across your waist. Anchoring you down as though— even in sleep —he was paranoid you’d slip away. You carefully lifted his arm, halting as his breathing accelerated before replacing your warmth with a pillow.
The first step went surprisingly smoothly… but that must’ve been a fluke as what came next was nearly debilitating. 
An aching pang shot up between your legs, sharp and sudden. You gasped, clutching onto the bed frame for support. The sensation wasn’t extremely painful, rather unpleasant and even worse it acted as a punishing reminder of the choices you’d made tonight. 
What you just did.  
Fumbling around the floor on all fours was equally deplorable and you now understood what others meant when they described the after-fact as a ‘walk of shame.’ 
You eventually located your pants, desperately patting them down to find your phone. The screen flashed on when you pulled it out of the pocket and you hissed as the harsh light penetrated your retinas, a dull throb settling between your eyes.
There was a flurry of texts from Thomas. Apologies, explanations, and pleas for a response. He’d left your house without much resistance earlier in the evening as you cried for him to do so, but it seemed he wasn’t giving up on you so easily. 
Your heart clenched painfully, and it was as though all of the synapses in your brain fired at once; What have you done?
A pool of saliva formed within your mouth, stomach suddenly churned. You stumbled across the floor, making a beeline for the ensuite as your throat heaved. In a matter of seconds after collapsing on the floor before the toilet, you were vomiting into the bowl. Violent hurls that only subsided once you were completely empty. 
Could you be any more putrid? 
The facet rasped as you turned it, a steady flow of water filling the bathtub as you rinsed out the vile taste in your mouth. It was bitingly cold as you slowly lowered each aching limb into the water, sighing in relief as your body acclimatised and began to relax. 
When you were on the cusp of sleep once again, you started cleaning yourself. Scrubbing your skin raw with soapy suds until the water turned a sickening pink and you felt sick for the second time that night. 
You dipped below the water and watched as bubbles rose to the surface.
viii.
Everything was becoming surreal. 
In half an hour your given moniker would be permanently altered. It was the ‘essence of your identity’ your mother would say, but you’d never been particularly sentimental about it. This likely stemmed from your childhood, as in the mind of a little girl, it was only a means to an end. You used to long for a prince mounted upon a dark stallion to come and sweep you off your feet with promises of a perfect future; all that was required in exchange was a simple change of your name. 
Of course, reality hit like a truck when you learnt that there weren’t enough princes around for each little girl in the world. But still, perhaps your expectations had been too high. 
Mrs. Hughes.
Mrs. Hughes.
Mrs. Hughes. 
There was a certain ring to it that you couldn’t quite pinpoint, similar to when you found a puzzle piece that looks right, but it isn’t the exact fit.   
After kicking everyone out of the room, you’d spent the last fifteen minutes distracting yourself by mulling over your appearance. The seamstress did everything she could to preserve the original cut of the dress but was ultimately forced to make it backless due to the inflexible time constraint.
Despite the reassuring gushes you’d received from the bridesmaids, you couldn’t help but feel exposed. The material that once clung taut against your curves now flowed freely in all its feathered glory, displaying the tender expanse of your back to all those who cared to witness. 
A firm knock reverberated off the oak door and your lips pinched down in a small frown; you’d been explicit in your desire to be alone.
You cracked the door ajar, bewildered to be met with the familiar blue orbs of the eldest Cameron upon peeking out into the hallway. His pale blue suit was neatly pressed and tailored to his body, a black bow tie complimenting the look, making him appear youthful.
“...What are you doing?” You whispered incredulously, glancing to each side of the empty corridor.
He flashed you a grin, holding up a long-neck bottle with a pretty red ribbon wrapped around it like a noose. “Wanted to say my congratulations. I’m guessing you’ll be a bit tied up later on.”
“You’re not supposed to be here,” His head tilted to the left in confusion and you sighed, “It’s bad luck.”
He hummed, smirk grew patronising as he deadpanned; “I thought that rule only applied to the groom?” 
“Is this for me?” You chose to ignore his previous remark, gesturing to the bottle he still held in his possession. 
“Yeah. Rose wanted to give it to you herself but she was more than happy to let me do so when I offered.” You knew what he was hinting at; she missed having you around to keep her stepson in line. You didn’t know why you were surprised, it was in the Cameron's DNA to stoop to sly tactics.
"Mind if I come in?" Your reluctance must’ve been evident by your unwavering grip on the door. He rolled his eyes, voice now tinged with a touch of condescension. "C’mon. One last hurrah, that’s all I ask for."
What can five minutes hurt? Then hopefully he’ll leave you alone for the rest of the night. “Alright, fine, but make it quick.” 
You clicked the door shut, aimlessly lingering by the window as he lined up two of the clean champagne glasses left over from the earlier celebrations. The side seams of his suit tapered around his shoulders, extenuating the strain of his muscles and they rippled beneath the fabric. You averted your gaze, choosing to fix it on a lone swan floating out on the lake instead. 
“Thought I should say,” He turned to face you as he removed the cork with surprising ease, the stopper not even popping as it was released. “You look beautiful.” 
You snorted, brushing over a crease in the thick curtain. “That’s just custom speaking.”
He seemed genuinely miffed by your comment, mouth hanging open with a small huff. “That right there is proof that no one takes me seriously, I mean it.”
“Well thanks, I appreciate it. I did end up fitting into the dress so, guess I proved you wrong.”
His brows furrowed as the cardinal liquid poured into the glass. “Don’t tell me you took that to heart? I was just fuckin’ with you.”
“Yeahhhh, I know.”
He brought the two glasses over by the stem, passing the one which was filled exceptionally fuller to you. 
“Going easy?” 
“Designated driver.” He affirmed, leaning against the opposite side of the window frame. 
Your mouth opened, a soft ‘ah’ flicking off your tongue. “I must say I’m surprised and impressed.”
With a humoured scoff, his eyes rolled to the back of his head. “Alright, it’s your special day, what are we toasting to?”
You stilled for a moment, scouring your mind for something appropriate to say. When it came to you, you grinned: “May you be in heaven a full half-hour before the devil knows you’re dead.”
He hummed in approval before extending his arm to meet your glass somewhere in the middle.
“Cheers to that.” You said in unison, falling silent as you downed the entirety of your drink– it was your day after all, so fuck it, you were going to need some liquid courage to make it through the coming hours. 
The drink was shockingly sweet, oozing down your throat like a hot teaspoon of honey and you grimaced. “What is this?” 
Rafe shrugged, placing his untouched glass down. “Some guy who distils it himself. Disgusting, right?”
“That’s an understatement.”           
Words died in the air between you, lost and forgotten as a thick silence surrounded you both. The energy within the room grew dense, tensions steadily simmering and only increasing in intensity. You squirmed in your position, noticing as Rafe grew fidgety; something was dancing on the tip of his tongue, ready to be released. 
“Remember when I told you that your mum was worried ‘bout you?”
“...Yeah.” How could you forget, his drunken induced admission which soon followed still haunted your psyche. 
“Was-uh…was any of that true about you acting strangely?”
“Your timing is truly impeccable.” Any of the previous lightness was sponged from your tone, replaced by defensive shrill which was painful to your own ears. 
“I’m just sayin’, it’s good to get this shit out in the open before everything is finalised, don’t you think?” He began to gesticulate with his hands, flapping motions which were distracting. 
“There’s nothing to ‘get out.’ I’ve had my doubts, but that’s normal. My mind is clear now.” You stated firmly, struggling to believe that he would have the audacity to question your decision just as it was about to come to fruition. 
“Is it?” His words carried a soft almost sympathetic note, as though you were a child and he was trying not to upset you. 
“Is it what?” 
“Is it normal to have doubts? I mean that reaction before didn’t seem very convincing to me.”He let his breath out in a soft sigh as your gaze remained defensive, backed into a corner like pitiful prey. “You see what this is telling me? That you don’t know how to make a decision that’s good for you.”
Your head was reeling, throbbing as the lights intensified, the artificial brightness causing you to squint. You were struggling to think, let alone formulate a sentence. All you could conjure up was a childish response: “Shut up, shut up.”
The room tilted as you abruptly stood, staggering forward like a limp doll. You were on a rollercoaster, extremities weighed down by the impressive force of gravity. Rafe caught you before you could collapse, supporting your nape against his chest. Confusion ebbed through your veins as you clung to him, a delicate whimper falling from your lips.
“Steady now.”
“Wha…” Your heart thumped realising how slurred your speech had become. 
His hand drummed along the exposed skin, shushing your protests. “It's okay,” a soft and hungry whisper. He drew the zipper down. An expanse of naked, supple skin awaited. A fresh carcass, ready for the taking. 
“I'm prepared to make that decision for you.”
312 notes · View notes
prettybabybaby · 1 year
Note
Mean Rafe with a maid/working for the Cameron’s reader 🥹
¡ 18+ only ! ¡ minors do not interact !
content: noncon, dark!rafe, fem!maid!reader
¡ outer banks masterlist !
you're just trying to make it through university, working like a dog all summer until you finally landed the well-paying job working for the cameron's. you leave the house sparkling, happy to receive praise from your employers as they hand you your payment.
the only downside of the job is rafe who sends a chill up your spine whenever he's near you. you know what's coming as the day reaches its end, silence and darkness filling the large home. rafe always catches you before you can leave, whether that's in your car or when you tip-toe past his bedroom.
his hands wrap around your hair as he pulls you towards him, disapproving of how you tried to get away before you could give him what he was "entitled to". you get paid too much to simply clean after the family, you owe them more than that.
he's always rough and aggressive when he fucks you, hands around your neck or tangled in your hair, colliding with the rippling flesh of your ass or your burning cheeks. you shamefully drip around him every time he pins you down and forces himself into you. you sob as he shoots insults your way, making sure to threaten you when your pleas and moans get too loud, reminding you of how easy it would be to get you fired and ruin your reputation. he leaves you cold and used, satisfied or unsatisfied he doesn't care as long as he gets off.
455 notes · View notes
singmyaubade · 7 months
Text
Shades Of Cool
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Toxic!Dark!Rafe Cameron x Female!Pogue!Reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You are just living your life, completely normal and free. But, what happens when Rafe Cameron decides that you are his? He's danger.
~ part one: possession
~ part two: cat & mouse
~ part three: happy wife, happy life
~ part four: run
~ part five: always
~ part six: & forever
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing, angst, HEAVY smut, violence, degradation, humiliation, manipulation, jealousy, choking, DARK MATERIAL.
2K notes · View notes
rvfecamerons · 6 months
Note
Hiiii reader trying to run from rafe and he finds her and pins her down and impregnates her
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word count — 1.8k+
warnings — MDNI; NONCON/DUBCON, stalking/following, forced pregnancy, abusive relationship, cussing, bondage (belt), degradation, lmk if i’m missing anything!! not proofread btw
a/n — my first anon request omg, tysm!! <3 hopefully this isn’t too long! likes, reblogs and feedback are always appreciated and encouraged! requests are open for rafe!!
You closed and locked your bedroom door after securing the lower level of the house you were staying in.
A family friend, Lynnette was kind enough to let you take over her guest room after fleeing from a scary argument at Rafe’s house a couple weeks ago. He’d never met your mom’s friend before, so you figured her house was a safer bet.
You made your way to the ensuite to brush your teeth and get ready for bed. You were washing away the last of your face wash, running your hands over your skin when you realized you were shaking. You were definitely a bit nervous to spend the night by yourself, in a setting you were still getting adjusted to. Rafe had made it clear through numerous messages and calls that you didn’t want to know what he’d do if he found you. The threat had you constantly looking over your shoulder, even in a locked home miles away from Kildare.
When you’d finally finished your night time routine, you lifted your head from the sink, eyes focusing back on the reflective glass in front of you.
You almost jumped out of your skin as your eyes met a familiar blue-eyed gaze behind you in the mirror.
A large hand quickly wrapped around your mouth before you had a chance to scream, your cries muffled behind your ex-boyfriend’s fingers.
“Don’t make a sound,” Rafe whispered in your ear lowly. His words sent chills down your spine in the worst way.
“Thought you could run from me, hmm?” he taunted, grip tightening as he spoke of your defiance. His other hand had snaked around your stomach now, just below your chest.
“Told you I’d find you, sweetheart. You just don’t listen…” His words came out choppy, through gritted teeth as he struggled with you. Your attempts to shove the man off of you were futile, especially considering the iron grip he had on you. “Now I gotta teach you a lesson.”
You were vigorously shaking your head, vision blurry from your tears as the fear of what your boyfriend would do took over.
He had to have been watching you, you assumed. He obviously figured out where you’d been staying somehow, but more scarily, he made his appearance the same exact night your family friend hopped on a plane out of the state. He knew you weren’t alone here, but he easily was able to figure out when you would be.
He must’ve seen Lynnette at some point, maybe even watched her lug her fancy suitcases down the driveway and into the waiting Escalade earlier that day.
Either way, he was a predator who’d been circling his prey, waiting for the right moment to pounce. Now he had you, locked in a room with him, alone and afraid.
Rafe noticed how tense you were, and how it didn’t seem to be fading away at all. He slowly took his hand off of your mouth and used it to smooth over your hair instead, running over the top of your head before resting on the back, just above your neck.
“Shh, shh it’s okay baby,” he shushed you, though his words were anything but relaxing. “I’m here now, m’gonna take care of this…of you.”
With that, Rafe walked you forward until your body met the counter. He pushed down on your head and lower back, bending you at the hips over the vanity sink against your will.
One hand kept you pressed into the cold marble while large fingers grabbed at your pajama shorts, forcing them down your legs.
“Rafe, stop!” you were cut off as the kook fisted a hand in your hair, forcing you to turn your head to one side to avoid straining your neck.
“Uh uh, I’m talking now, sweetheart. You don’t have a say.” He spat. You could hear him fumbling with his belt, the sound solidifying what you’d dreaded the most.
Rafe used his belt to restrain your wrists, looping it below each hand and around the large sink faucet before securing it as tight as it would go.
You pulled at the restraints, and Rafe couldn’t help but smirk at your test that only confirmed his quick binding skills.
Defeat was setting in as you felt your ex slide two fingers along your underwear, a low groan escaping his lips. He pressed his own bulge in his pants against your ass, enjoying the friction momentarily before pulling the thin fabric from your sex.
He yanked it down your leg before bringing the thong to his own nose, taking in the sweet scent you’d depraved him of for weeks.
“You gonna be quiet f’me?” He rasped in a condescending tone. “Or do I need to stuff your mouth with these?” The thong dangled from his index finger as he contemplated making the decision for himself.
“Please, Rafe, I don’t-“ you were silenced as Rafe grabbed ahold of your hair and yanked your head back. Before you could protest, he shoved the material back into your mouth, letting his fingers linger on your tongue for a second.
You couldn’t hold back your muffled sobs, and Rafe took satisfaction in the fact that you were already so worked up, and he hadn’t even given you something to really cry about yet.
Your head hung low as Rafe continued his assault, hands trailing down your body and grabbing at different parts before he finally started unbuttoning his own pants, the khaki shorts falling to the floor with a thud, followed by his boxers.
“Fuck…” he drawled out as he slowly slid into you, your walls almost too tight to push through.
You cried out at the sudden intrusion, the pain intensified by the lack of preparation and wetness. As much as it would have helped, you were silently glad that you hadn’t shown signs of arousal, hoping to dent Rafe’s ego maybe just a little.
All you could do was lay there, body stretched out over the counter and hands binded to the cold metal faucet while Rafe continued rutting into you at a painful pace. His hands couldn’t seem to stay in one spot, roaming and grabbing all over you, all while whispering cruel, demeaning things in your ear.
At one point, he tangled a hand in your hair again and craned your neck up. When you didn’t open your eyes to meet his in the mirror, he gave your locks another tug, this one too harsh to ignore. Your eyes shot open as Rafe stroked your g-spot, your cries telling him he’d hit the right target.
“Look at yourself,” he brought his lips down to whisper the demand in your ear.
It was hard to tune into his words when your body was overwhelmed with pain. The grip in your hair was too tight, the feeling of Rafe’s cock pounding into you at the perfect spot too much to bear. You could feel his strokes becoming sloppier, slicker as you coated him with your arousal against your better wishes.
Your body betrayed you, and Rafe loved it. A twisted smile tugged at the corners of his lips as your eyes started to roll back in your head. His eyes were glued to the sight in the mirror.
“Coming apart on my cock, hmm baby? Why’d you try to run?” The question was rhetorical, of course. Rafe just wanted to taunt you as he knew your brain was surely shutting down due to the overstimulation he was giving you.
You clenched around him as he spoke, eyes falling shut in embarassment as he continued to fuck you through your high, stars clouding your vision and static filling your ears as the wave of pleasure washed over you.
A few light slaps to your face had you snapping back to the sick reality before you.
“Hey, hey,” Rafe grabbed you by the jaw from behind to regain your attention. “Eyes on me, baby. I want you to watch me fill up my pussy.”
Your eyes grew wide as the realization of Rafe’s intentions set in. You tried to shake your head, but his fingers only curled tighter into your jaw, to the point where you let out a muffled sob.
“You’re mine, Y/N. Do you understand me?” His voice rose as he posed the question. “Do you hear me?”
All you could do was cry. Any fight you tried to pose was pointless, especially with no free hands to use for defense.
“My bitch… My pussy,” he mumbled the words so low, you almost couldn’t make out what he was saying to himself.
“And soon everyone in this fucking town will know who you belong to, baby…” His own words, mixed with the way your walls clenched around him sent Rafe spiraling into his high now. He continued riding out his orgasm, grip tightening on your body as his senses heightened momentarily.
Your eyes widened in horror as you felt the ropes of hot liquid shooting past your walls, Rafe determined to plant his seed as far into you as possible. Once he’d emptied his load, the man kept himself embedded into you to, ‘make sure you got every last drop’.
When he finally pulled out, Rafe took a moment to both steady his breathing, and admire the sight of you completely at his mercy below him.
“I should just leave you right like this… let what’s-her-name come home to find what a little whore you are, hmm?”
You shook your head, silently pleading with him to spare you anymore embarassment, anymore humiliation.
“Nah,” he answered his own question, large hands coming down to encompass yours as he began loosening the belt around your wrists. You hesitantly pulled them free, afraid any sudden movement would trigger the animal behind you.
“You’re not staying here though. Get your shit and meet me downstairs in 5.” The kook was pulling his pants up, looping the belt back through the small holes as you slowly stood upright.
Your neck and back hurt from the unnatural angle Rafe had subjected you to. You were left in just a thin tank top, forced to pull your own underwear from your mouth, a move Rafe left up to you solely for embarassment. He loved to demean or belittle you and your confidence, it’s what kept you clinging onto him for so long.
You tried to rub each wrist equally, hoping the numbness would wear off sooner than later. Your tearful, nervous eyes met Rafe’s, and he plastered a fake pout on his lips to amuse you.
“Don’t look at me like that, Y/N.” You didn’t say anything, just stared at him with a helpless, defeated look. You flinched as he took another step towards you, bringing a hand up to cup your face gently. The action would have been soothing, if it was from literally anyone else in any other situation.
“This is your fault, Y/N, okay?” He nodded his head as he spoke to you like you were a little kid.
“Now get your shit. And don’t even think about trying anything…”
He leaned in closer this time, lips brushing against your ear as he spoke again, referring to your recent attempt to evade him.
“You know you won’t get far.”
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stepbrorafe · 13 days
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I saw another account saying rafe would like to be called dad and I NEED some blurbs or headcanons about it
⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚
“Oh, my-“ You cry out, feeling Rafe sink into you.
A husky groan leaves his mouth as he fully bottoms out, your velvety walls squeezing him tight. The sound of your arousal is evident, his cock glistening with your essence as he slowly pumps in and out of you.
His hand wraps around your throat, eyes soaking in the way your face contorts in pleasure. His thrusts are slow and sensual, yet so deep you can feel his tip kissing your cervix. His grip on your neck tightens as his pace grows quicker, and his force grows stronger.
Your eyes roll to the back of your head, lewd moans continuously spilling from your lips. Rafe is breathing heavily above you, his brows knitted together in determination to make you come undone around him.
“Mm, Rafe.” You moan out, your jaw slack. “Fuck, so good.”
He groans from the sound of your voice, burying his face in your neck. His nose brushes over your hot skin, inhaling your scent. His lips meet your neck, littering open mouthed kisses all over it.
The feeling he’s giving you is electrifying. You can feel the knot in your stomach growing, indicating your incoming release. You can’t help but repeatedly clench around him.
“So pretty, baby.” He moans into your ear, his wet lips grazing the skin. “Dad makes you feel so good, doesn’t he?”
Your mouth falls open as silent moans leave it, panting beneath him as he drills into your sopping entrance. Your mind is hazy, basking in the pleasure he’s giving you. When you don’t answer his question, his fingers slightly trail up to your jaw, yanking your face to look up at him. His stare is strong, his jaw tightening as he deeply breathes through his nose.
“I asked you a question.” He grits, roughly thrusting with every word.
“Oh, my God.” You sob, “Yes, yes, yes. So fucking good, dad. I’m-“
Your eyes squeeze shut as you feel the band in your stomach snap, letting go and showing him just how good he makes you feel. Your walls contract around him as your juices pour out of you, saturating his cock as he fucks into you.
“Good fucking girl.” He groans, his hips snapping into yours as he empties his hot load into you, filling you up so deliciously.
⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚
tags : @sunkissedrafe
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inevitablysomber-dark · 5 months
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Manipulators of OBX (LadyBug)
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Intensely Dark! Rafe Cameron x Acutely Aware! Reader
WARNING: Non-Consent, Manipulation, Kidnapping, Stalking, forced interactions, Causing trauma, unhinged obsession. MATURE AUDIENCES ONLY. MINORS DNI
Summary: After a fresh breakup with her ex, Kyle, a chance encounter leads to an entanglement between Ladybug and her friend, Sarahs, volatile brother, Rafe, who had long standing conflicts with her friends. However, what began as an accidental hookup, quickly spirals into a troubling situation as Rafe's infatuation takes a darker turn. His fixation becomes a source of distress, as his persistent harassment disrupts Ladybugs Peace.
Status: Complete
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
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𝔻𝕖𝕓𝕦𝕥𝕒𝕟𝕥𝕖 𝔻𝕖𝕝𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕤
- Dark Rafe Cameron x Kook/Stepsister Reader
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ᴘᴀʀᴛ 1, ᴘᴀʀᴛ 2, ᴘᴀʀᴛ 3, ᴘᴀʀᴛ 4 ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: Rafe Cameron finds out that his sweet stepsister needs a date for the debutant ball - he is happy to offer his brotherly services. ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: purity culture, virgin reader, smut, dubcon, overstimulation, fingering ᴡᴏʀᴅᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 2.2K
❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀
The silk glides down your form as if it belongs there, to be always wrapped around your figure. As if you were sculpted for finery, for luxury–for things only he could give you. And to be grateful for each and every one. Which is why Rafe Cameron is sitting with his legs spread and a cigarette between his fingers and mouth as he watches his sweet step-sister flick between dresses. His lip twitches upward as a mellifluous little tune threads from your mouth. He had been watching the Cinderella live action movie just minutes ago while you awaited the dresses’ arrival. God was he glad your mother wasn’t here to see. He is almost disappointed when the white fabric is hiked up over your hips. Your brows furrow as you look in the mirror and pull up the sleeves. A whine escapes you when your fingers reach your back and squirm with the ties. Rafe stifles a moan by biting into his cigarette at the sight of you wriggling in that little corset. It had to be his favourite by far and not just because it made you look like a princess…but because you needed help. More specifically his help. And he’d be damned if his little princess didn’t get what she oh so desired. “Here.” he grunts, slugging himself up and dragging his heavy steps toward you. You turn your head to look back at him but his hand is quick to shove it forward again. He tuts lightly as he pushes you to bend over your desk as if you are his very own little doll. Each summer was spent in the Cameron Household - it doesn’t matter that every other day of the year (aside holidays) is spent with your father because the summer is what you live for - away from the cold city of Williston. And yes, you love the summer heat but you’re lying to yourself when you think it is solely the whether which has you begging to meet your mom in the Outer Banks. 
Rafe’s wide hands pull the white ribbon around themselves until you let out a short squeak. He huffs as his cigarette threatens to fall out his mouth. “Get this for me, darling.” And there’s that reason. Your dangerous, sweet reason to keep crawling there. Rafe Cameron. Your Stepbrother. You don’t even hesitate to know what he means. You lean back to let him aim it between your fingers and just as quickly, you dab it out. “Good girl.” He purrs and presses a kiss into your curled hair. He pushes you back over again as he finishes the bow. Rafe’s eyes roam over your back, over the hip padding and slivers of flesh. One hand settles on your hip and the other on your shoulder. He squeezes before nestling himself a spot against your neck. His sights rise to the mirror in front of you, he nearly melts at the sight of you both in the long mirror. You have this bright shining grin as always against your plump lips. “There we go.” “Thank you, Rafe!” You beam, almost sparkling with glee. “What do you think?” You twist left and right for a moment so the dress flutters around you but he is still suffocatingly up against your back so you only succeed in pressing against his stiff hardness. His lips open sharply at the sensation, driving his teeth to nip at your neck. You jump with a gasp. “Sorry, princess.” He murmurs. “I think you look perfect, babydoll.” He drops a kiss to your shoulder and wraps his arms around your middle. Your head tilts to the side in contemplation. Then, you lower your eyes in discomfort and what he assumes to be a bashful edge. “It’s not too much is it?”
Rafe drags his fingers up and down your side and shakes his head. His eyes roll back as he inhales deeply; your scent wafting into his nose, filling his breath until he can almost taste your perfume. A grunt burrows in his tongue as the smell swirls and sinks and heavies. Christ almighty, how has nobody fucked you yet? His nails part into the waist of your pure dress like claws. Pure, white, virginal. Oh his sweet virgin little sister, he cannot let anyone have you, how irresponsible would that be? No, no, he can’t just let any old pogue plunge his thick cock into those plush, hot walls. He can’t let just any pretentious kook kiss along your sweat-slick thighs. Not just any tongue to collect those pretty little tears you’d make…He knows you’re a crier, you’ve always been so easy to tease…to weaken…to mould. Rafe takes another breath. This one will last. 
He needs it to last. 
He craves it.
“Rafe?”
Like his newest and own brand of cocaine. 
His eyes snap open and he presses one final sloppy kiss to your neck, he knows you deserve more than that - you are his good girl afterall but he hasn’t the strength right now. Not until he can properly claim you as his own. Not until he can coat his dick between those fluttering pussy lips. He bites back a moan as he pulls back and wraps his fingers in your hair. He brushes it back and looks back up to that pretty angel face blinking back at him. That doe eyed expression that just stops him short from devouring you. 
“You look perfect.” The admission strikes both pride and insecurity through your chest. “Then why doesn’t anybody want me?” The whine is rapid and effortless as it slips by those soft lips. “Sure they do, baby.” He purrs and squeezes you gently. He twirls you around to face him. He revels at those gentle, watery, big eyes. At the little twitches of that pout. At you. You shake your head like a trembling lamb, like his favourite meal. Rafe swallows to keep the thoughts at bay. “No, no they don’t I–” A sniffle blooms and so do the waterfalls. “Aw, baby, take your time,” He coos. “Shush, shush now.” He presses a palm against the back of your head, bringing your face into his chest. It is making your heart frizzle and burst while you squirm against him. The whimpers do not simmer. “But it’s true!” You continue to fight, your pathetic little fists winding against his shirt. “No one even…No one said yes to me, not even JJ!” Rafe’s jaw clicks in a single second. Not at the spew of rejections, oh no that had been planned for a very very long time and no amount of tears were going to make him surrender his prize for it. Oh no, it was one name, two letters. JJ Maybank had been sticking his nose in your business for far too long but hearing that you would ask him before Rafe? Him before your very own guardian protector? Oh no, he can’t have that. You seem to notice your mistake once his grip tightens. 
But all you knew was that even your friend was rejecting you. JJ Maybank was arguably your best friend - outside of your family - when you stay in the Outer Banks and to know that even he wouldn’t take you? It crushes your heart. It confirmed the one thing that always scared you - that you’re an outsider.  “I-I know you don’t like him, Rafey, but he’s supposed to be my friend and I–” You blubber but it does nothing to soothe him and the clench of his fist. “And look what he did.” Rafe spits back with raised brows. “I told you that no good pogue was gonna hurt you one day and here we are.” A flinch ripples through you, your jaw lacks. “R-Rafe–!” This only spurs chuckles to bully through his mouth. “I told you he would get you in trouble.” He grips the flesh of your arm now. His eyes narrow. “Imagine if I told daddio that his precious little stepdaughter, the dream child he didn’t have, had decided to go running around pogues like Sarah, how do you think he would like that, huh?” The chuckles grow malicious quickly, pacing up and down his throat as fear floods your irises. It’s only when the first tear falls that the hand around your arm cups your face roughly instead. He rubs the tear away and presses a firm, hard kiss to your forehead. Almost as if he is trying to sear it into your head. As if he wants to brand it there. He tuts carelessly. “Now, don’t cry like you didn’t do this yourself, you could have any pretty boy you want and you want that screwbag fuck.” He hates how his dick stiffens at the shiny new tears in your eyes. “I-I–no! I didn’t–I’m not-!” Your defence is weak, fuck he was going to treasure this memory. “I never knew you were such a brat.” He raises a brow as you try to save yourself with pathetic babbles. 
“I-I asked the nice boys, I did, I swear! B-B-But they…” The blubbering continues. It almost makes him feel bad. Almost. This whole night was a big bag of almosts but stifling his wanton desires was worth it if you would start being his sweet doll again. “But they already had someone! Or they thought it was lame.” Good puppy. He has to battle to keep the smirk off his lips. “You didn’t ask me.” He retorts gruffly, defensively even. “So clearly not.” You blink in surprise and he takes a step back, delighting in the sudden burst of action as you follow him just as planned. Glee threads through his veins. “But Rafe, that’s different, you’re my stepbrother!” That girlish, squeamish little tone stirs his stomach. He couldn’t wait to make that same very voice scream. And he would. “So? What’s a little shared lineage? Are you not proud of that? Are you not proud to be an integral part of this family?” He knows the words are mean as he hisses them at you. He doesn’t care. “Don’t you want us to be a real family?”“What would people think?” Bursts through you first and it is at that very moment that he knows he has caught you. Because you haven’t pushed him. You haven’t scolded him. You haven’t even argued that it would be wrong. He could work with a lot less than that. 
In one swift motion, he squeezes your cheek and pulls you even closer. “You want me, I can see it so stop denying me. We both know you wanna be my baby. I don’t need you to admit it, I just need you to show me.” He presses his forehead to yours and lets the breath fan over your face. “Huh? You think you can do that?” His words are like the slow purring of an engine. It is with heavy reluctance that you nod, slowly and reluctant but you do. The corner of his lip twitches up. “That’s my good girl.” His lips press to your cheek with a looseness. “Now, show your good stepbro that pretty pussy.” Your fingers hesitate before he delivers a quick slap to them. It jumps you into action, breath hitches. But just as your hands reach the bottom of your puffy white dress– 
His hand slips inside and curls through your thighs. You tighten them shut to no release - it only has him more determined to peel back your frilly white panties. And so he does, prying apart your trembling legs. A whimper escapes you but he is quick to smother your mouth with his, kissing you with an unknown cruelty. He swallows down your surprised yelp and nibbles at your lip when his fingers dive into your pussy. He snickers against you. “Wet little girl.” He says, groan reverberating against your skin. A shudder ripples over your spine as his fingers thrust roughly. You had always imagined that he would be gentler but years of pent up need festers in his gut. Growls tease at his voice as he pushes you against the window. A moan pushes out of you as easily as if he had pushed against your stomach. It entices him. 
“What are you doing?” Your mother’s familiar voice hums. A gasp falls from your lips before you can stop it and Rafe has his eyes still stuck on you. His hand drops from your heat. It doesn’t make you any less dizzy. He blinks once, then twice and on the third… “Y/n was just showing me her dress for the debutante ball.” He slowly moves back, with enough ease that it just about looks natural. Your mother is not convinced however and you can see it in her cautious eyes. You gulp. 
Though, she reluctantly nods with her arms folded. “Right well, it’s time for your dancing lessons, darling.” You nod quickly, eyes still averted as both your mother and Rafe’s own burn holes into you. You scramble to her side but just for a moment, Rafe squeezes your arm and linger. It is just long enough for you to meet his gaze. That is when he drops it. When he knows he has your attention. You gulp as you glance behind him to find him sucking at his index finger. He smirks and you know that his summer is about to get a lot more interesting. 
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