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#dark! rafe cameron x pogue! reader
d0llfaac3 · 6 months
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OBX P!LINKS
Warning: mdni, porn, just full 18+ warning if any of the links don’t work tell me!!
Rafe Cameron
Tatted!rafe fucking you over a counter
Cute morning sex with Rafe
Rafe eating you out
Backshots
Hospital sex 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️
JJ maybank
JJ taking a video of ur ass
Giving JJ a Blowjob
JJ after Rafe flirted with you
Overnight at the beach
Giving him a handjob at the beach
Potentially a part 2 coming soon 😔😔
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perlelune · 5 months
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All Too Well | Rafe Cameron
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A tragedy in your family forces you to return to the one place you fled from years ago. Your hometown of Outer Banks.
Warnings: NON-CON, Mom Reader, Pogue! Reader, Mentions of Abuse, Blackmail, Threats, Child Abduction, Gun Use
This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.
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You sigh as you pass the familiar town sign. Welcome to the Outer Banks. Paradise on earth.
Right, paradise on earth. Until it became hell for you.
You let your gaze wander across the coastline, soaking in the crashing waves and glittering sand. The fresh sea breeze whisks inside the car, its soft, familiar flutter over your face bringing bittersweet memories alongside it. As you take in your surroundings, you’re struck with the realization of how little has changed over the years. Same houses. Same trees. And perhaps, you ponder wistfully, even the same people…
A mix of confusing emotion flows through you at that prospect.
Most of your life was spent here, precious memories having taken place on that very beach you just passed. Lazy days hanging out with your friends, doing whatever it is you wished. Hanging out, goofing off, getting high and enjoying endless summers.
Before mesmerizing blue eyes found yours at a beach party. It’s when your downward spiral began. How sweetly things started. How sourly they turned.
You can still feel the ghost sensation of his fingers around your neck, pressing until you could hardly breathe. Yet another fit of anger. Brushed off like so many until you couldn’t bear it anymore.
Eventually you grew tired of the whirlwind of emotions, of how he always had an excuse, some sort of twisted justification for his horrible actions. How somehow nothing was ever his fault. But yours. Always yours.
And once you found out that you had more than your own well-being to worry about…the decision was made for you. Of course, you needed to run like hell and never look back. It wasn’t just about you anymore. You had someone else to protect, from his mood swings and temper, but most importantly…from becoming just like him.
A heavy breath drops from your mouth as you clutch the steering wheel. The unpleasant flashes are chased away with a sharp shake of your head. You steady your rising pulse. You promised yourself not to not sink into that hole again. That hopeless, desolate place where you’re trapped in the dark and no one can hear you screaming. You’re stronger now. He can’t hurt you anymore.
This was four years ago. All that stuff is in the past. Buried and forgotten. Thankfully.
Your son’s hitch-pitched voice tugs your focus from the backseat.
“Can we go to the beach, mom?” he says, bouncing in excitement. “Please, please, please.”
You swipe a glimpse of him in the rearview mirror. Here he is. Your entire life, on the cusp of throwing a tantrum in the backseat of your car. Your three year-old son, Parker.
Your focus shifts back to the road.
“We have to go visit some friends first, sweetie.”
“Okay…” he pouts dejectedly.
“Once we’re settled in, we can go.”
He beams at that. A smile creeps upon your lips. While raising Parker on your own has been a challenge, you wouldn't change a thing. Seeing his bright, gummy smile everyday makes it all worth it.
You make a few more turns before finally reaching your destination. You soak in the striking sight of the house as you climb out of your car. It’s a lot bigger and nicer than the ones surrounding it, an uncanny sight in the Cut. It still surprises you that JJ didn’t move to Figure Eight. With his flourishing boat renting business, he can basically do anything he wants now. And you know he’d likely get a kick out of pissing off the 
Kooks by moving to their side of the island. So you’re a bit shocked that he chose to keep roots there. 
You suppose, in the end, he will always be a Pogue at heart. 
You pick up your son from the back seat. A yawn escapes from his mouth before he wraps his arms around your neck and begins to doze off. You can’t blame him. This was his longest trip since he was born. He clings to you as you make your way to the front door. 
The door opens, a familiar blond welcoming you with a bright smile.
“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” he drawls. 
“Are you sure it’s okay if we stay? We can go to a motel.”
JJ huffs his disapproval before ushering you inside. 
“Nonsense. Why stay in a motel when we have plenty of room here?”
Your eyes dart about the place. It’s clean and though the decor screams ‘bachelor’, homey vibes ooze from the space. Memorabilia from JJ’s travels are littered across the shelves as well as pictures of him and the Pogues beneath his surfing board. Melancholy hits you again. You’ve missed so much.
You shoot him a teasing grin.
“Plenty of room, huh? Sounds like someone’s gone full Kook.”
JJ rolls his eyes at your playful taunt. “Do you have any bags?” he asks.
“In the trunk,” you reply, handing him your keys. “I didn’t pack much since we won’t be staying long.”
He takes your keys, concern flashing in his blue eyes. “Which I still don’t get. I could kick his ass for you, so you don’t have to leave again.”
“It’s fine, JJ. Parker and I have a great life in Florida. I just got promoted. I’m saving up so we can move to a bigger place in a few months. Things are good. Really good.”
“I still think you should be here with us.” You supply no answer as he strolls to your car to get your things. You know JJ would tussle with him if you let him, has tried to in the past. He’s your best friend and has always been overly protective of you. It’s exactly why you need to leave once everything is handled. You refuse to let him get tangled up in your mess. It was never his to fix. 
You pad further inside JJ’s home. Astonishment flutters through you as you find another familiar face by the kitchen counter. 
Her long blonde mane swings at her back as she rushes to you. 
“Is that my nephew?” she whispers in an attempt not to wake up your toddler.
“Sarah,” you greet cheerfully.
She bends to get a better look at him. Her expression lights up.
“He’s gotten so big since the last time.”
The sound of Sarah’s voice tears Parker from his slumber.
He rubs his eyes, a broad grin appearing on his little face when he recognizes her.
“Auntie Sarah…”
“Hey buddy,” she chimes.
He jumps into her arms and the two of them giggle as she hugs him.
“I wish I could visit more often,” she says.
You nod in agreement. Sarah used to visit the two of you in Florida on a semi-regular basis, but she had to stop once a certain somebody became a bit too curious about the impromptu trips she was taking several times a year.
“Me too, but we both know it’s not possible.”
The two of you share a knowing look.
JJ reappears with your two bags in his hands.
“Shall I show you and your offspring to your chambers, m’lady?” he says, mimicking a horrible British accent. 
You shake your head at his antics. Though you’d never admit it aloud, you kind of missed them. A lot.
“You’re an idiot, you know that?” 
He flashes you a broad grin.
“Hm, I think the word you’re looking for is wickedly handsome.”
“That is more than one word,” you deadpan.
He shrugs. “Just handsome then.”
You sigh as you follow him upstairs. Pleasant surprise courses through you at what you witness when he opens the door to the guest room. 
The interior is warm and welcoming. The blankets have rockets, moons and stars on them. There’s even a nightlight and a few toys lying in a corner. It’s a lot more than you expected and a swell of emotions mounts inside you at the sight. 
“You just had to go overboard, huh?”
His shoulders heave and fall in nonchalance.
“Only the best for my best girl.”
You plop down on the bed, drinking in the animal paintings on the walls. 
“Did you paint that yourself?”
He sits next to you, leaning back in a relaxed stance.
“I did. Mostly. Though Sarah, Kie and the others insisted on helping.”
“You know we’re not staying.”
He studies you, a small smile tugging his lips.
“A guy can hope.” JJ licks his lips, fingers dragging over the colorful blanket. “I just want you to know you have a home here if you ever decide to come back.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
Blue eyes lock with yours, silence stretching between the two of you before he speaks again. 
“I really missed you.”
“Me too,” you say. “Are you and Kie still…?”
“We broke it off a few years ago.”
Your eyes round. They seemed so into each other at the time. Though you surmise, people can change over the years. You aren’t teenagers anymore after all.
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m not. We’re better off as friends,” he states casually. He holds your gaze and smiles. “Some things just aren’t meant to be.”
“Alright Master Yoda, when did you get so wise?” you quip.
He joins his hands, his expression solemn.
“A stupid kid, I am not anymore.” You laugh and his smile widens. “Believe it or not.” He pauses, appearing lost in thought. He then offers, “You should come to the Bonfire celebration tonight.”
“I don’t know…”
Your brows knit. You returned out of necessity. Hanging out isn’t exactly at the top of your list of priorities. 
JJ gives your shoulder a light shove.
“Come on. It’s at the Boneyard, just like old times.” His expression turns serious. “Everyone’s really missed you. It’s not the same without you around.”
He gets to his feet. Your stomach knots when he retrieves an urn from under the night table and hands it to you.
Your chest tightens.
“Are those her…”
“Yeah. Her last wish was to be at sea. Maybe you could do it tonight?”
Your fingers press firmly around the curved edges of the urn, tears welling up in your eyes.
“I should have been there, JJ,” you mumble.
“It’s not your fault.”
“But if I-”
“No, you can’t blame yourself for every little thing. I won’t let you.” Noting your trembling fingers, he takes the urn from you, placing it over the night table. He cradles your face and wipes the tears spilling down your face. “She knows how much you loved her. That's all that matters.” He wraps his arms around you and you sink into his embrace, soaking his familiar sea-salt smell. It’s somehow barely changed since you last saw him. “It was an accident. No one could have done anything. Especially not you.”
You sniffle, swallowing a fresh surge of tears. You may not have been close to your sister, but you still resent that you couldn’t be together before she passed. She barely got to know her own nephew. 
She deserved a lot more from you. A lot more that you weren’t able to give, which you hate yourself for.
You just couldn’t risk it. Not when one look at him would suffice for most people to guess who Parker’s father is. Starting with those piercing blue eyes. The same as his father’s. 
Accidents are accidents. But you can’t help but wonder if being with her would have made a difference. No one even really knows what happened. Just that she was in her house - you parents’ house - and fell. Then she stopped breathing. By the time she was rushed to the hospital it was too late.
Your sister was gone. Ally is gone.
A harsh truth your mind is still wrangling with.
“I don’t know if I can come. Parker’s still so small-”
“I’ll watch him.”
Your head snaps up. You find Sarah in the doorway, your son in her arms. As soon as he enters the room, the little boy gets excited. He starts running around and grabs a toy from the pile to play with.
“Are you sure?” you ask.
“Are you kidding?” Sarah exclaims. Her gaze softens as she looks at your son. “I missed the little guy so much. We’ll have a ton of fun.”
You peer at Parker. He’s found a dinosaur and a soldier and decided to have the two apparently fight in space. You have to admit, JJ’s house is much more kid-friendly than you expected. Perhaps, you can probably release him into his aunt’s care for a few hours. You have no desire to turn into one of those helicopter moms who need their children under perpetual supervision. Parker too, may benefit from some time with Sarah. He never gets to see her after all.
“Well, I guess if you don’t mind,” you say. 
Sarah perks up at your response. 
“See? Everything’s sorted out,” JJ says brightly.
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The moment they see you, Kie, John B and Pope hurtle a ceaseless string of questions your way. Your life in Florida. Your job. Your dating life. The weather. How the beaches are there. No inquiry’s off-limits, too strange or personal. They constantly speak over each other, their excitement at seeing you again clear as day. You try to answer everything in between your laughs. JJ was right. It’s good that you came. 
You needed to see them. It doesn’t hit you until you listen to Kie’s bubbly, passionate rant about the foundation she created to clean up the ocean floors. You missed the Pogues. Deeply. You were so absorbed in being a mom that you never took the time to ponder that loss. 
“Guys, you have to give her time to actually answer,” Sarah jests. 
“It’s okay,” you say, waving your hand in nonchalance. Your handle on the urn between your arms tightens. “There’s something I need to do anyway.”
Quiet falls over the group, their lively chatter instantly dying. You see it in the Pogues’ eyes. All your friends are acutely aware how it guts you to do this. 
Kie takes a step forward. She hasn’t changed a bit. Brown curls cascade at her back. Her pretty face is scrunched in concern. 
“Do you want me to come with you?”
You shake your head. This isn’t something the Pogues can help you with. You glance at JJ who stands a few feet behind her. His expression mirrors hers. You’ve used him as a crutch enough times. Too many times. 
You give a tremulous smile.
“No I…I need to do it alone.”
She nods as you stroll towards the rolling waves. Your slow steps trail prints into the sand as you soak in the flaming sun spilling over the horizon. Diamonds sparkle above the mesmerizing water, lights dancing over the infinite stretch of blue. 
You open the urn. Water licks your toes as you move forward. 
As you watch her ashes swirl to the bottom of the ocean, a strange emptiness fills your chest. None of it feels right. She should be here laughing. Or doing something stupid with the Pogues. Doing stupid shit was her specialty. 
Her sunny smile flickers in your mind. 
You don’t notice the tears until their salty taste slips past your lips. You quickly wipe them as soon as you do. You can’t let Parker see you cry. He would ask why, in that sweet little voice of his. “Why are you crying, mommy?”
And you’d be stumped, incapable of producing a suitable answer for him. 
“Princess?”
You freeze. The deep voice feels snatched right out of your worst nightmares. You turn slowly, denial still keeping you mute. 
Your heart drops. 
It really is him, you realize, dumbfounded. He looks the same as the last time you saw him, dizzyingly tall and wickedly handsome in khaki shorts and a seersucker buttondown. A very Kook getup. Not that you’d expect anything less from Rafe Cameron. 
He chuckles at your reaction.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” His smile widens. You feel sick. He points at his chest. “Shit, am I…the ghost?”
Ignoring the rising tide of panic overflowing your insides, you brush past him. 
He follows you, his long legs easily keeping up with your hasty strides. 
“I was gonna offer my condolences but…Really? You don’t even say ‘hi’ anymore?”
“Hi, Rafe.”
Your stomps are halted when he stands in your path.
He bends so the two of you are at eye level. Your breath catches beneath his stare. You somehow forgot. How blue his eyes are. And something else strikes you as you look at him. 
Those are your son’s eyes. 
“There. Did you lose your manners in…Where do you live now anyways?” He snorts but there isn’t a hint of mirth in his tone. “It’s not like I’d know since you changed your number on me.”
Your stomach flips. “It’s good to see you, Rafe. But I was just leaving.”
When you try to get past him again, he grabs your arm to keep you from leaving. 
“Wait, wait, wait. Why the cold shoulder? After all these years…this is what I get from you, princess?”
A lump forms in your throat. 
“Let go of me, Rafe,” you say. 
You try to shake out of his grasp but his grip on you tightens. 
He gets in your face, his gaze narrowing. 
“I haven’t seen you in four years. And this is how you treat me? W-What did I do to deserve that?” You turn your head, tears gathering in your eyes. His fingers latch around your jaw, digging painfully into your cheeks. “Look at me when I’m talking to you.”
Someone pulls you back from Rafe, sliding between the two of you. 
You gasp as you stumble back. 
“Leave her alone, Rafe,” JJ grits out, standing in front of you protectively. 
A derisive snicker bursts through Rafe’s lips. He glares up and down at your friend, disdain burning in his eyes.
“Still hanging out with those Pogues, I see.” He laughs as JJ crowds his space, his jaw clenching. “You tryin’ to get into something, Maybank?”
“Maybe I am,” JJ replies.
One could cut a knife through the thick layer of tension coating the air between the two men.
You wedge yourself between them. None of them looks away from the other, a nonverbal duel still occurring right before your eyes. 
You heave out a long sigh.
“Guys. We aren’t kids anymore. That’s enough,” you say. You unleash an annoyed sigh when they don’t move and grab JJ’s hand. “JJ, let’s go.”
“Still her little puppy dog, I see,” Rafe sneers. “Too bad she never gave you any treats like you wanted, huh Maybank?”
He blows JJ a mocking kiss, wiggling his fingers and openly taunting him. 
Sensing his urge to pounce on Rafe when he tenses near you, you tug JJ further away. 
“He’s not worth it,” you whisper.
“Good night, princess. I guess I’ll see you around,” Rafe yells from afar. 
“No, you won’t,” you respond, shooting daggers at him with your eyes. “Goodbye, Rafe.”
The events of the evening leave you rattled. For the entire night, you toss and turn in bed, the sound of Rafe’s voice, even deeper after all these years, invading your every thought. You thought you were safe. Freed. But frankly, one look from him had you feeling weak. Defenseless. It yanked you right back to four years ago. Back when you still hung to his every word and thought he held the moon. When you thought that, perhaps, Rafe Cameron was just misunderstood. And you, the only one capable of solving the riddle he offered. You truly were a naive teenager then. 
Guys like Rafe never change. It took you entirely too long to accept that fact. You'll never make such a mistake ever again.
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In the morning, JJ leaves to run some errands, leaving you alone with Parker. You plant a kiss atop his head and stroke his blond curls. His tiny fists are curled against the pillow, his lids twitching while he lightly snores. It soothes you, the sight of him soundly sleeping. He’s innocent and happy. You would do anything to keep him that way for as long as possible.
You climb out of bed and make your way downstairs. You get started on breakfast for your son, mashing ripe bananas and oats as you follow along a tutorial online. It’s where you learnt everything when it came to caring for Parker. The internet has been a life-saver in more ways than one. 
You pause your whisking when the doorbell chimes. 
Your brows knit. You’re not expecting anyone. Neither is JJ. A delivery, perhaps? But he didn’t say there would be one today.
You flinch as the sound erupts again. 
Your heart starts to race. Something isn’t right. You can feel it. 
At first, you elect to ignore whoever’s on the other side. You’re alone with your son. You won’t let some stranger who can’t catch a hint inside the house.
But it doesn’t matter. 
The bell rings again. You’re paralyzed. You take tremulous steps to the entrance. Whoever it is, you plan on telling them to kick rocks. You suck in a wide lungful and nudge the door open by a tiny crack. Your eyes fly open in shock at who’s on the doorstep.
Immediately, you try to slam the door closed. He doesn’t let you, placing his foot against the doorjamb as his large hand curls around the wooden edge of the door to keep it open. Fear seizes your throat as he looms over you.
“Rafe? What are you doing here?” you say, trying your best to quell the tremor in your voice. 
He licks his lips and drinks you in.
“Well, we didn't get to finish our talk last night-”
Of course, this is the moment your son chooses to groggily drag his feet down the stairs. 
“Mommy, I’m hungry…” he complains while rubbing his face. 
Your heart drops to your feet. 
Rafe’s eyes grow wide. For a minute, he’s too stunned to utter a word, a million thoughts seeming to go through his mind. You use his surprise to nudge him outside. He doesn’t resist, shock still written on his handsome face. 
You close the door and slump against the wood. 
“Who’s that?” Rafe blurts out once he finds his ability to speak again. He’s pointing at the door as his breaths grow heavier. It doesn’t matter that your son is now out of view. Some doors can never be shut again once they’ve been opened. This is one of them.
Your shoulders heave and fall in feigned nonchalance.
“Nobody.”
His jaw clenches. “Don’t fuck with me, okay?”
You nod and show him the front yard.
“Let’s talk over there.”
He won’t let it go. Just like he never did with anything when you were together. You watch him pace across the yard as he grips his head. It almost seems like you’re not here, a spiral of emotions clearly sucking him in. You stand back warily. You remember those spirals, how destructive they could turn. 
“Fuck, Fuck…” he mumbles under his breath. He takes a deep breath and whirls to you. “You know what I’m gonna ask.”
You cross your arms, pulling the cardigan closer to your shivering frame.
“Rafe. I need you to calm down…”
He slaps your hand away when you try to touch his arm. 
“No you…Y-You don’t get to tell me to calm down, okay? Because it’s fucked. Fucked.” You jump as he gets louder, uncaring about anyone hearing him.  “How old is he? Three? Four? Is he my-”
“His father’s in Florida,” you blurt out. As soon as the words roll off your tongue, you curse inwards, your mistake dawning on you. Why did you say Florida instead of some other random state like Missouri or Massachusetts? You’re gonna have to move. Again.
Rafe’s jaw flexes before a chuckle of disbelief leaves him. 
“Really? You expect me to believe this load of crap? That kid in there looks just like me.”
“It was a one-night stand.”
He squints at you.
“I know you. You don’t do one-night stands. You’re not that kind of girl.”
“Well maybe you don’t know me as well as you think. Maybe I’ve changed.”
That mere suggestion seems to have his blood boiling. 
“I want a paternity test.”
Your stomach plummets.
“No.”
He gives a slow nod, a smirk blooming on his lips.
“Then I’ll court-order it, sue you for custody and make sure you never see our son again.” 
A chill creeps up your spine. Your voice quakes with fear.
“You wouldn’t.”
His face breaks out into a broad grin. 
“Try me, princess.”
You look at him. Really look at him. A determination is etched in his steely glare. One you haven’t seen in years. Not since he relentlessly pursued you until you yielded to his advances. It flattered you then. It terrifies you now.
“I’ll come back tomorrow,” he announces. “And don’t try to run away from me again, you understand? You won’t like what happens if you do.”
Your throat goes dry. When you don’t answer, Rafe’s hand shoots up and latches around your throat.
You whimper as he seethes, “Do you understand?”
“I-I understand, Rafe,” you stutter, your body shaking in his grasp.
He pats your cheek, seemingly satisfied. 
“Good. See you tomorrow, princess.”
Even as he releases you, your chest is tight with dread.
He starts walking to his Jeep. You remain glued to your spot, feeling as if a hole just opened in the ground and you were being swallowed in its depths. 
Rafe’s gaze rakes across your shuddering frame as he starts his car.
He bends over the window and smirks.
 “Oh by the way, you still look good…Didn’t get to say that last night,” he tosses flirtatiously before driving away. 
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When night comes, JJ scowls at you while you’re frantically packing. Since he came back, he has tried to convince you to stay. 
But your mind is made up. You refuse to wait for him to have the confirmation he needs to force his way into your life again. You know exactly what the test will say. There’s been no guy other than Rafe. No one before or after.
He left you so bruised, so riddled with wounds that never closed, that you never opened your heart to anyone else again. And definitely not your legs. 
“You should have called me when it happened,” JJ says.
“Call you for what? So the two of you can swing on each other?”
You glance at your son, napping across the large bed. He has no idea what’s going on. No idea his father was here just a few hours ago. A silver lining amidst the dusky clouds threatening to rain hell upon your life. A life you cherish. A life you worked so hard to build. 
A life you just lost. Coming back here was a mistake. You knew it from the beginning. Had that sinking feeling all along. But you were so chock full of guilt about your sister that you didn’t have it in you not to fulfill her last wish. She deserved that at least.
…And now, you’re fucked.
“This doesn’t change anything. We can’t stay.”
“But…”
You whip your head up and whisper to not wake Parker.
“It’s his kid. You know how much sway he has now. How much he could fuck up our lives. Not just mine. But everyone else’s…including you, JJ.”
Annoyance flares in his eyes. You can tell he doesn’t like to be reminded of that. 
“But you don’t have to do this alone. I can-”
You clutch his arm and shake your head.
“No, I already involved you enough. If we go now, he won’t be able to find us, ever again. I’ll make sure of it.”
His frown accentuates. Unsaid words crowd the air. You feel their weight in his silence. Still, none leave his mouth. He heaves out a deep resigned breath instead.
“Just text me when you’ve crossed state lines, okay?”
“Of course. Tell Sarah and the Pogues I’m sorry. I’ll call her once Parker and I are safe.”
He wraps his arms around you. You sink into the embrace, committing that comforting warmth to memory. 
“I can’t believe you’re already leaving,” he says. 
You swallow the onset of tears tickling the back of your eyes. 
“Yeah…Me too.”
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When you’re slinking down the road in your hatchback as stars twinkle above you, you genuinely believe you are out of trouble. You didn’t even wake Parker, just lifted him from bed and gingerly placed him in the backseat. Heavy sleeper as he is, your son did not stir. You believe the two of you are safe, sound and on your way back to Florida. That for once, you bested him. All's well that ends well, as they say.
But perhaps you escaped the frying pan to jump right into a blazing inferno. 
It is what occurs to you as you’re hailed by a cop car on your way out of town. The moment you get a glimpse of the sirens, the blood drains from your head. You can never catch a break, it seems. At first, you ponder if you should ignore it, keep on driving. You almost do it. But as the vehicle cuts right across your path, you’re left with no other option. Your nerves flare at the sight of the blue and red lights glaring in the pitch blackness, illuminating the large trees flanking the road.
As Officer Shoupe steps outside the car, your gut wrenches. He chased you and your friends across the island so many times when you were a teenager. You weren’t the most fond of him back then. Now you’re downright on the verge of soiling your car seat as he takes long, threatening strides towards your car.
He knocks on your window. You sigh and lower the glass. You place a hand in front of your face as he blinds you with his flashlight.
“Ma’am. Get out of the car,” he orders.
“I don’t understand. I wasn’t speeding-”
His hand ghosts over the holster of his gun. Your pulse quickens. The clear threat hangs in the night air, stifling your breath.
“I won’t say it again. Get out.”
You take shaky steps outside of the car, raising your hands the entire time. Your son’s in the backseat. You find yourself praying, hoping that he doesn’t wake up and see you like this.
Unspilled tears collect in your eyes.
As he speaks into his walkie-talkie, your heart stops. 
“I’ve got her, sir. You were right. She was trying to leave.”
It doesn’t even surprise you when you see a familiar Jeep arrive on the scene some time later. Of course it was all him. Of course he anticipated you running away, again.
A surge of queasiness mounts within you as his towering frame leaps out of the drivers’ seat and he stomps in your direction. You feel the bear trap closing in on you, the claws sinking deep. Inescapable.
He opens the door where your son is having an oblivious nap and barks at you, “Get Parker and come with me.”
When you refuse to move, he seizes the back of your neck and slams your face against your car window. You squeak as the coolness of the glass seeps into your cheek.
“I said…Get him,” he hisses, pressing something cold against the base of your spine. You go still. You never had one pointed at you before but you’re fairly sure you know what object is kissing your back right now.
As the muffled metallic click of the weapon ripples through the night, a stray tear skips down your cheek.
A gun. Rafe has a fucking gun. Disbelief floods your chest.
Not even your worst nightmares could you have conjured something this sick and evil.
His lips drag along your earshell as you sob. “Get our son,” he articulates. “I won’t repeat myself, princess.” As soon as he allows you some space, you rush to pick up your son from the backseat. He’s thankfully still asleep. You adjust him in your arms as you gulp down a sob, reluctantly making your way to Rafe’s Jeep. He instructs you to put him in the backseat. He then nudges the gun against your hip, quietly heeding you to climb into the passenger seat of his car. 
Your heart shrivels inside your chest as he hops into the car too and slams the door shut.
“All these years and you still haven’t learnt to listen,” he scoffs, irritation bleeding through his tone. His wrath is palpable. Sizzling, red, hot fury you feel all the way to your bones.
He hates you. Who knows what he’ll do if you provoke him any further?
Terror makes your voice slip out hoarse, hardly more than a whisper.
“W-Where are you taking us Rafe?”
The gun - the goddamn gun - is still in his hand as he pinches the bridge of his nose and slaps the steering wheel. 
“I should kill you for this, you know?” he hisses, turning the key in the ignition with his other hand. The engine revs as he turns the car around. He dives onto the road. Any fickle hope you harbored dwindles into the night. 
You lick your dry lips.
“Rafe,” you try again.
His eyes flare dangerously, the gun twitching in his hand.
“Don’t interrupt me when I’m speaking.” A mirthless chuckle bursts through his lips. “S-So what now? You take my son from me, for four fucking years…and I’m the bad guy? I-It’s somehow my fault?”
You swallow past the thick lump in your throat. Tears flow down your face as shaky words bounce off your tongue. “You scared me, Rafe…sometimes.” You glance at the gun and sniffle. “You’re scaring me now. Please just…p-put away the gun.”
He slams his hand into the steering wheel as you gasp.
“Don’t fucking try telling me what to do,” he warns. He draws a long inhale, squeezing his eyes shut. When he opens them again, there’s a peculiar determination burning in his gaze. “Here’s what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna drop off our son.” The corners of his lips curl upward. “Then Mommy and Daddy are gonna go home and have a little grown-up talk.”
A chill shoots through you.
“Rafe, please. Don’t do this. I’m sorry. O-Okay, I admit it. I lied. But please, don’t-”
“Shut up!” he roars, causing you to fall quiet. “You’ve lied to me enough. I don’t want to hear another word coming out of your lying whore mouth until we get home.”
The commotion nudges your son awake.
“Mommy…”
Your nerves thrum in panic. You bend over the backseat and cradle his face, slotting a false smile onto your lips. “Go back to sleep, sweetie,” you urge. 
“Yes, Parker, go back to sleep,” Rafe repeats, his tone veering on sarcastic. 
“Who’s that, mommy?” your toddler inquires, tilting his head.
“Just go back to sleep,” you say, singing a tremulous lullaby to lull him back into slumber. Relief sits inside your chest when his eyes close.
He makes a first stop at his friends’ house. Your heart is ripped outside your chest as you watch Rafe’s friend - Topper or something you believe his name is - take your son away. They exchange words in the dark as you gawk in horror. You only have vague memories of Topper and now he has your son. A scream scalds the back of your throat, one you’re too terrified to let loose.
When Rafe returns inside the car, he is eerily quiet. You nearly find yourself wishing he’d talk, even if it’s to yell at you again. The silence is so unlike him, so profoundly unnerving.
But not another word escapes the confines of his tight lips as he drives.
Tannyhill comes into view and your heart sinks.
The persistent threat of the gun is the only reason you follow him inside. Whenever you drag your feet, he shoves the barrel into your back even more, reminding you what you’re risking if you don’t do as he says. You’re a sobbing, weeping mess by the time you’re in the Camerons’ lobby.
He places the gun on a nearby table and removes his belt.
“So, w-what was the plan exactly? Did you plan on never telling me?” You tense as he loops the belt around his knuckles, prowling forward. 
The golden ring on his finger glints in the low light of the lobby. 
“Did you plan on having that Pogue raise my son?”
“I…”
A sinister smile spreads over his face.
“You know what? I think we’ve been apart too long. I think I gotta remind you who the fuck I am, princess.” Your blood curdles at his words. You dart across the lobby but Rafe catches you, hauling you off the ground before slamming your body across the marble tiles without ceremony. Pain explodes through your limbs. He drags your limp frame to the railings. Your insides lurch as you feel leather bite into your flesh when he ties the belt around your wrists. He attaches the belt to the railings, restricting your arms’ range of motion.
Helplessness skyrockets inside you. A fresh wave of tears rolls down your cheeks.
“Rafe, please…”
Rafe pulls his zipper down. Impatience grunts leave him as he wriggles out of his pants and boxers, freeing his already rock-hard cock. He yanks your shorts and panties down until the bottom of your body is completely bare to him. 
His pupils swell at the sight of your bare cunt, leaving only a thin ring of blue in his dark gaze. 
He lines himself with your entrance, pressing his wet tip against your dry lips. He breaches past the tight ring of muscles as you stiffen. An immediate burst of pain scatters through you. Tears dot your lashes as heavy breaths rush from your chest. 
It’s clear it’s taking tremendous effort for Rafe to force himself inside your unprepared core. Sweat collects on his brow as he pins you with his broad frame. 
When he pushes more of himself inside you, your eyes roll back. You don’t think the agony could worsen but somehow it does. 
Your bound hands clench into fists, your nails sinking into your palms. 
“Rafe, please, it hurts,” you whimper. His fingers cinch around your throat in response. Your core burns, your lips parting in a soundless scream as Rafe bottoms out inside you. Your vision blurs with tears. Pure hatred oozes off his husky tone as he starts moving inside you. “You don’t get to complain. I don’t want to hear another fucking word from your mouth, do you hear me?” He drags his cock out and slams it inside your aching walls again. “This is what you deserve so you’re gonna fucking take it. Take my cock until I’m done with you.”
You’re in hell as Rafe grunts like an animal in rut above you, uncaring of the strangled sobs leaving your throat. 
The expression on his face is downright terrifying, empty of anything but burning rage. In every single thrust, you feel the intensity of his loathing for you. How much he craves to punish you for everything. 
To your utter disgust, your cunt grows slick around him, easing his crude assault. 
As he notes your arousal coating his length, he lets out a bone-chilling laugh. “So wet already, huh?” Hand still wrapped around your throat, he bends to whisper into your ear. “I always knew you were a slut.” Your breath hitches as he buries himself even deeper, touching a sensitive spot that sends a fresh wave of pain through you. “That’s why I had to keep you in line.” He drops a soft kiss on your cheek as you tremble beneath him. “Sluts like you need a firm hand.”
You’re nothing but a ragdoll under Rafe as he uses you as a vessel for his pent-up anger and frustration. Every time you graze your peak, your body jolting uncontrollably, he pulls out of you out of the blue, pinching your swollen clit until you cry out and reminding you that you’re not allowed to come, that you don’t deserve even a sliver of release.
You’ve always known Rafe was capable of terrible things. But this…This is worse than anything he’s ever done to you. This is the point of no return.
Every time Rafe ruthlessly pounds into you, a bullet-like sensation rips through your flesh, tearing apart any semblance of normalcy, safety that you had. Hot tears skip down your cheeks. You will never feel safe or normal again. 
“Did you fuck that Pogue?” he snarls, his warmth breath flowing over your face. You’re so dazed and fucked out, on the cusp of passing out, you can barely keep your thoughts coherent, let alone speak. 
“Don’t tell me I already fucked you dumb, princess?” he sneers, annoyance and a sick dose of mirth mingling in his hoarse timbre.
When you fail to provide an answer, he bangs your head against the railings. Pins and needles drill into your skull. He wrenches your head back, pulling on a fistful of your hair until your scalp stings.
“When I ask you a fucking question, you answer,” he seethes. His voice lowers as his eyes dive into yours. “Did you fuck that Pogue?”
“N-No, Rafe,” you wheeze out, your voice weak and defeated.
The marbled floor chafes your back as he steadily ruts into you again, grabbing under your thighs to fuck you even deeper as you weep in silence beneath him. 
“Good. You’re mine and no one else’s. Do you understand? That fucking pussy was always mine…and still is.” He unleashes a drawn-out purr, lips parting as you clench around him. “Fuck you’re tight. How the hell are you so tight?” he rasps, his Adam’s apple bobbing. He lets go of your neck to focus on your hips, corralling them firmly in his large hands so he can fuck you with abandon. “God, I missed this,” he moans. His gaze narrows. “Don’t think you’re off the hook just cause you’ve got a tight pussy.” 
His thrusts grow sloppier over time. Rafe chases his high while you pant helplessly beneath him. When his warmth spills inside you, a shuddered exhale leaves you. He remains nestled between your bruised walls, his heavy body covering yours as his spent leaks between your ass cheeks, pooling beneath you. He plants a slow, soft kiss on your lips, a disturbing contrast to what he just did to you. 
He cups your cheek and strokes the side of your head. 
“You took four years from me. And I intend to make up for lost time.” A devilish grin splits across his face. Dread fills you as he adds, “Maybe I’ll even put another one in you, make sure not to miss anything this time.”
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“Mommy, mommy! Look at me,” Parker shouts from astride the majestic pure breed pony his father appointed for his fourth birthday. 
He waves at you and you return the gesture with a hollow smile. 
“I’m watching you, sweetie,” you reply from your lounge chair by the pool. 
Above the Cameron mansion, the sun shines bright, the sky a dizzying shade of blue. There’s not a cloud in sight, almost as if Rafe paid them off to steer clear on his son’s special day.
Parker trots around the yard with a big, ecstatic smile on his face, his dad cheering him on nearby. The little boy requested a pony ride for his birthday so, of course, Rafe Cameron made it happen.
There aren’t many things Cameron money cannot buy. A fact he loves taunting you with every chance he gets. 
Just like the ridiculous, over the top birthday party he put together, Rafe never misses an occasion to spoil his son rotten since they reunited. Almost as if to show you what you’ve been depriving him of all these years, rub his money in your face and make you feel like a terrible mom. 
You can’t deny that it works. Every time Rafe gives Parker something you never could have provided on your own, guilt chews at you. And it’s clear that he knows it, that smug grin always dancing on his face when he catches you looking dejected. 
One of the moms in the lounge chair near yours lets out a dreamy sigh as she devours Rafe with her eyes. 
“You’re a lucky bitch, you know that? Cute son. Hot husband. What I wouldn’t give to have your life.”
Your teeth clench as you bite down every hateful word searing your tongue. From across the yard, Rafe’s icy blue eyes find yours. He beams at you. A chill travels up your spine. You look away.
“Hm…yeah. I guess I am,” you answer, casting a sour glance at the diamond ring on your finger. The gigantic rock’s shimmer is blinding as it catches the sunlight. To everyone else on Figure Eight, the fancy silver ring is a display of Rafe Cameron’s boundless love and devotion for you. It makes women green with envy. It bruises men’s egos. But you see the exorbitant blood diamond for what it is…An expensive shackle binding you to your gilded cage. A reminder that you’re trapped and there is no safe haven away from him anymore.
Rafe hasn’t failed to find little ways to make you pay since that day. Treating you like an object to satisfy his needs behind closed doors while forcing you to maintain the act of the perfect family in public. Every day you awake dreading he found another way to torment you, some fresh hell to rain upon you.
He never runs out of ways to twist the knife he buried deep within you. Again and again.
When the evening reaches its end, all the guests having vacated the house, Rafe slips behind you as you’re cleaning dishes. 
His large hands sweep over your hips and you recoil.
“Rafe…I’m…Can’t we give it a rest, just for today? I’m still sore from the other night,” you plead, desperation making your voice quake.
Before he can answer, Parker interrupts, trailing down the stairs as he yawns. 
“Daddy?” he utters drowsily. 
The little boy is sporting a brand new pajama his father got him, as he didn’t allow you to keep any of the clothes you got him over the years, calling them low quality and cheap.
He approaches your son at the bottom of the stairs and holds his shoulders, giving him a bright grin. His expression turns fond and prideful as he considers his son. The way Rafe is with his son is a sharp contrast to the way he is with everyone else. The toddler’s become the center of his universe. It nearly makes you feel guilty for hiding him. Nearly. The bruises tattooed all over your skin are a wicked reminder of who Rafe truly is.
“Daddy’s coming soon to tuck you in, okay, P?” He kisses the top of his head. “So go back to your room.”
Parker nods as he lets out another yawn. “Okay.”
“That’s my boy,” he chimes, ruffling his honey blonde curls. 
Parker hops up the stairs. When Rafe turns to you, the smile on his face vanishes.
He rushes to you, his hand shooting up to latch around your throat. His deathly grip on your neck crushes your windpipe. You look at him with wide, terrified eyes, your mouth wobbling. An expression edging on murderous decorates his handsome face. 
He snickers. “You’re sore? You think I give a fuck? I’m putting Parker to bed, then I want you waiting for me upstairs in that red lingerie set I just bought you.” He leans over you, mumbling in a low, threatening tone. “I meant what I said. You owe me four years, princess.” He licks the errant tear sliding down your cheek. “And I plan on getting every single second back.”
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amandabbbbb · 2 months
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poor baby is fully talking to no one…. he needs me
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 5 months
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it’s the way i know rafe actually gets off on you being jealous and honestly vice versa. maybe it’s bad that your foreplay is either of you fake flirting with someone at a party just to have rafe pull you into a bathroom and bend you over the counter and fuck you hard against the porcelain while the poor victims of your little game listen on the other side of the door.
a/n: we all know he lives for the drama, he lives for the toxic games
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
masterlist | join my taglist
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“Occupied!” Rafe yelled when a loud knock boomed at the bathroom door. 
The interruption though didn’t cause him to slow down at all as he fucked you, rather it egged him on as he snapped his hips hard enough for your palm to soar up to your mouth, muffling the whine he withdrew from you.
As his grasp slid up from your tits, threatening to escape your sundress, up to your throat, his fingertips stretched up to your jaw as he leaned down close and found your gaze in the mirror.
“Maybe it’s your new boyfriend out there being a little perv and listening in,” the sink dug into your lower stomach at every one of his ruthless thrusts, “why don’t you moan real pretty for him, give him a little taste of what he’ll never have?” his fingers flexed around your neck, “or maybe I should just unlock the door since you enjoy so much being such a little slut and flirting with everyone even though you belong to me. Because you do, you know you do. It doesn’t matter how many people you wink at, you’ll always be mine… maybe he needs to see it in person to understand, see how well you take my cock to realise that mine is the only one that’ll ever get to stretch this little pussy out. You think that would clear it up for him?”
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© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 
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fallrafwe · 2 months
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,,DON’T BE DIFFICULT”
a/n: feel free to request things of rafe or jj, or anybody else! pt is right here
warnings: dark!rafe, no protection (WRAP IT), NONCON/DUBCON, humiliation, threats are made, lying, choking, piv, strong language
summary: rafe is horny at midsummers and he needs somebody to help him, and he finds you, a pogue
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Getting out of the boat, you were just silently following John B and JJ’s lead, hearing them argue about how John B might be messing with Sarah Cameron. You laughed to yourself a bit, then staring at John B crouching down to a bag JJ was carrying, pulling out a gun. Your mouth dropped in surprise, “What the fuck, JJ?”
He stared at you and John B, “Yeah, well, if I get jumped, it’s on you guys,” he said, putting his hands up in the air. You and the brunette looked at each other and sighed, he put the gun back in the bag and carried it. You guys made it up to the party, JJ dressed up as a waiter, you’re dressed up as a Kook, even though it’s obvious you aren’t, and John B dressed like himself, waiting for Sarah at some place.
You were too busy thinking, and eventually lost JJ, having no idea where he was. Panic set in, because you didn’t wanna be left alone since Rafe and his goons were probably out for you guys. Getting picked on by them is not a good thing, at all. They’re so ruthless. You started looking around for anybody who was in your group, but finding nobody.
Nobody except Rafe Cameron, he started approaching you. “Oh, shit,” you muttered under your breath as you started backing away. He called your name and you just pretended you didn’t hear him, trying to get yourself lost into a crowd. All of a sudden, somebody creeped up behind you, and it was Rafe.
“I don’t remember you belonging here, Pogue.” He said, his hands on your waist, you immediately tried to pull off of him, just to be met with a stronger grip on your waist, and all of a sudden, you felt a bulge press against your lower back. You were disgusted, “Rafe, get the fuck off of me.”
He chuckled as he just kept gripping harder and harder, his fingernails digging deep into your skin. You winced in pain, making little ah noises every time he dug deeper. “Rafe, please.” You put your hands on top of his and made a weak but desperate attempt to get them off you. “Don’t be difficult,” he commanded.
You groaned painfully as he spoke, “Help me with my problem, and I’ll leave you alone, yeah?” Rafe loosened his grip and you sighed in relief, looking back at him, “I’m not your personal fucking prostitute, get the hell away from me,” you yelled, being rewarded with a few weird looks from people around you.
When you tried to storm off, he gripped your wrist as tight as he could, “Ow, ow, Rafe, stop!” Rafe then dragged you inside, making his way to the men’s locker room. He opened the door, looking around and finding no one, he loosened his grip, still holding on. You both made your way over to a stall, and he shoved you into it.
Rafe turned to you, “Told you to not be difficult, didn’t I?” he stated sternly. You then made a dumb decision, trying to scream. However, it was quickly cut off with a hand squeezing your airways tightly. You were caught off guard and just stared at him as you put both your hands on his, “R..afe,” you said, it came out as a whisper basically.
“If I let go, you’re not gonna fucking scream, and you’re not gonna fucking talk. Got it?” You nodded the best you could as he let go, you inhaled the deepest breath you felt you ever took in your entire life, as it basically flashed before your eyes. You don’t even know why he was doing this, out of pure horniness? Tears filled your eyes as you looked at him, “Rafe, please, I don’t wanna-“ he quickly cut you off with a slap and turned you around, your back facing him and your face being squished against the wall from his hand.
“God, you.. you just don’t fucking listen, do you?” He said sucking in air as he narrowed his eyes at you, you were just sobbing as you dealt with this whole interaction. Quickly, he took your dress off with ease, leaving it resting at your ankles. Your back was forcefully being arched after your dress was taken off, he slapped your ass, making you wince.
You stayed silent as you took everything he was giving to you, Rafe then slowly slid your panties down to your shins, taking two digits and sliding them up and down your folds, collecting the involuntary wetness. He laughed darkly, “Oh, I thought you didn’t like this? You’re so fuckin’ wet f’me.”
Shaking your head in denial, you knew you didn’t want this, but your body did. You have no idea why you’re so wet, and you just cried in silence as you heard Rafe unbuckling his belt, it was painfully fast, you heard the fabric of his boxers and trousers slide down, and you knew he was ready to take you.
He pushed his tip into your entrance, making you moan in surprise, jolting forward, but Rafe quickly stopped you from moving by placing his hands on your hips. “Don’t move, ‘cause I know for a fact a poor slut like you can’t afford birth control, so it would be a shame if I came in you, huh?” He said, but he said it so normally, you actually wouldn’t be surprised if he’s done this before, but you obeyed what he said, hoping he wouldn’t follow through with what he said if you actually moved.
Rafe moved so swiftly and harshly, thrusting into you like it would be the last thing he would ever do. You moaned loudly, breathing heavily throughout thrusts, he moved his hips so good, and you don’t know why, but you loved this. “Yeah, taking my fuckin’ cock. This is where a filthy Pogue like you belongs, you know it’s right. Let me hear you say it.”
You felt a knot in your stomach about to burst and you knew you were close, “Y..yes, fuck. I belong under you, R..afe.”
He just smiled and laughed quietly, barely audible. “You were just begging and crying for me to stop, what happened to that, hm? Just so desperate for my cock, huh?” You nodded in desperation, about to cum, he just made sloppier thrusts, harder as well. He was hitting every spot you needed him to hit, and you finally felt that knot unravel, your pussy now pulsating around Rafe’s cock as you came.
“Just like that, cum around my cock, like the fuckin’ whore you are, what would your Pogue friends say if they saw you taking my dick like this, huh?” He chuckled at the thought of that, the thought of you crying and wanting him to get off of you.
You felt humiliated by the fact you were taking him so well after begging him to stop. His thrusts got slower and harder, a sign that he was close to his climax, after longer thrusts, he came in you.
Your heart dropped at the feeling of him filling you up, tears filling your waterline, “Rafe, what the fuck did you just do?”
After pulling out, he slapped your pussy, “What? Just did what to your pussy wanted me to do.” he smirked after replying to you. You didn’t dare face him though, but you stopped arching, straightening your back, your body trembled. “Rafe, you have to buy me birth control, I can’t afford it.”
Rafe just looked you up and down, looking at your shaking legs as his cum dripped down them, “Maybe, I’ll have to think about it.” he smirked as he ran his hand through his hair, so it stayed gelled back. You pulled up your panties and dress in silence as he opened the stall door and left, you just hoped he would buy it for you, or you would have to find some way to get it.
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cleoluvrr · 11 months
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strawberry shortcake (rafe cameron x reader)
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got sent home to change 'cause my skirt is too short.
WARNINGS: mature content; dark!rafe, non!con, dub!con, spanking, use of belt, victim-blaming, manipulation, degradation, explicit language, depiction of explicit sexual acts
word count: 9.1k
masterlist
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you and rafe were…complicated. you’d known him just as long as you’ve known his sister, and yet, you’d never had a particularly great relationship.
your father worked closely with the cameron family. he and ward met each other in college, but went their separate ways after graduation. ward returned to the outer banks after a few years of living on the mainland, slowly making a name for himself as a real estate developer. your own parents moved back to charlotte after graduating, meeting at school and getting married in their hometown. raised in the city, all of your family was there, and all your friends were there. 
one fated day, your parents decided that your entire family was going to pack up and move to the outer banks. you were eight years old at the time, so of course it felt like your entire life was falling apart. everything you ever knew was going to be miles and miles away just because your parents said so. 
it felt so sudden, so unexpected. as far as you were aware, there was no one you knew in the outer banks. your family had a beach house there that you would visit every other summer, but that was all. to you, they might as well have said that you were moving to a deserted island with zero human interaction.
the moment you arrived the summer before you started third grade, it was a complete culture shock. you were used to living in the city; busy streets, skyscrapers that kissed the clouds and lit up with the colors of the rainbow, and so many people that you’d never see them more than twice. kildare was the complete opposite. you could drive across the entire town and back in under two hours and the tallest building in town was a church. everybody knew everybody, and every person had their place.
you only found that after your parents were pulled over by a police officer while driving around figure-eight. it wasn’t too often people that looked like you drove around the “nice” side of town in a shiny, new car. not that they’d never seen it, but they knew all the people that did, and nobody in your family was one of them. you couldn’t count the number of times someone had asked if you were lost or ‘supposed to be here’ when playing around your front yard, taking a walk, or existing in any public place on figure-eight.
your parents allowed you a week to adjust before they threw you into the merciless waters of small town social politics. 
the first time you were properly introduced to the cameron family was during sunday service. you didn’t grow up going to church despite being from the bible belt, mostly because big city life didn’t revolve around it as much as it did in kildare. your parents forced you out of bed early in the morning to get ready, your mother all but stuffing you into the best sunday dress you owned. like any eight-year-old, you complained about it. you hated blue, but your parents insisted on all of your outfits being color-coordinated. the mary janes and frilly socks made you feel like a little kid, but your mom wouldn’t budge on it.
begrudgingly, you sat through an hour long sermon in a church filled with flamboyantly dressed rich people. and then you sat through another hour of brunch with the camerons and their friends, even more annoyed than you were sitting through service in the hot, old chapel.
ward and your father had kept in contact over the years, and it was a couple years before the move that the two of them became business partners. your dad became the cameron family’s lawyer, and it was easier to actually be in the same place as them rather than hundreds of miles away. your mother didn’t mind the move; in fact, she was excited. she worked as an oncologist back home, and the lack of them on the island meant there was great demand for her work.
it was there where you met sarah cameron, the girl that became your friend at first sight. she was younger than you, but at that age it really made no difference. the little blonde girl was excited to meet someone new and declared that you two would be ���best friends forever just like your dads. though it took some warming up on your part, ever since that day, the pair of you have been attached by the hip.
rafe, however, not so much. 
“hey, sarah?” you called out to the girl standing across from you, her surprised eyes wide as they snapped towards yours after being pulled out of the conversation with her boyfriend. 
“yeah?”
“could you tell your brother to fuck off?” a smile lit up your face as the question slipped from your gloss-covered lips. “please?”
you had come over to sarah’s house a few hours ago, the girl inviting you to attend a large party that her parents planned every summer for the fourth of july. at first, you weren’t too keen on coming, but the two of you hadn’t spent much time together this summer and you felt too guilty to turn her down. this was the summer before you left her for nine months to attend college, and  even though you didn’t want to come, you did it to make her happy.
the moment you stepped foot onto the property, rafe buzzed around your ear like a common house fly with comment after comment on your appearance. 
“what’s the matter, princess?” rafe speaks up from his spot just a few feet away. his head quirks to the side, a look of faux-concern covering his face. “stick up your ass a little too big today?”
topper and kelce chuckle at the comment, attempting to hide the sound by clearing their throats when they catch the dangerous cut of your eyes. your gaze meet rafe’s again and you watch as he raises the whiteclaw to his lips, the white can covering the smirk on his face as he takes a sip.
when you first met rafe, he was nice enough–very cordial. the boy was only older than you by a a year, but he acted as if the difference was so significant that he couldn’t be seen around you. he wasn’t necessarily shy, but every boy that age was concerned with catching cooties. it was impossible to keep his distance, though, especially since your dads worked together and you were constantly over their house. you and rafe maintained a somewhat friendly relationship with each other for years–never getting as close as you and sarah, but it was amiable. 
that all changed when you got to the eighth grade.
the older boy had started his first year of high school, while you and sarah were still in middle school together. 
the difference in maturity was beginning to have an affect on your relationship with both of them. you were turning fourteen and sarah was turning twelve; it felt like you were in totally different worlds. she was starting to become more of a little sister to you than a friend, but you loved her no less than before.
rafe was only fifteen, but he was in high school now. he hung out with guys older than him, and that meant doing whatever to impress them. he had completely brushed you off as a ‘little girl,’ and acted like you were a burden to have around if you were at tannyhill while his friends were there. 
it hurt you at first. you knew the two of you weren’t close, but to be completely disregarded for people he barely knew didn’t make you feel great about yourself. 
you were naive to believe it’d be any other way.
when it was your turn to enter high school, you felt alone. sarah was still in middle school, and rafe treated you like dirt on the bottom of his shoe. it was like you had to start all over now that you didn’t have either of them to cling onto. it wasn’t hard for you to make friends, but you still felt alone without your best friend–and betrayed by her brother.
“rafe, stop! you’re being an ass.” sarah shoves her brother, eyebrows furrowed as she scolds her older silbing.
“what? it’s a joke, chill out.” rafe barely stumbles from the shove. his eyes remain on you, not even sparing his sister more than a second of a glance. “she can take a joke. right, y/n?”
“of course i can take a joke, rafe!” you tilted your head in the same manner as he did just a few moments ago. “remember that time you asked me out senior year? that was really funny.” 
a smile grazed your lips softly as you watched him freeze in place for the briefest second before regaining composure. both his friends and sarah snorted at the quip, catching onto the implication. nobody noticed the look shared between you and the oldest cameron, nor the rise in tension.
it was the summer before your junior year and rafe’s senior–two weeks before midsummers, to be exact. rafe hadn’t let up on what was the borderline bullying he’d been subjecting you to since you started high school; in fact, it had only increased that summer. you were at the cameron’s house almost everyday with sarah, and her brother didn’t spare you a moment of peace when you happened to come across each other on the property–or off of it.
rafe spotted you alone by the dock, tossing rocks into the water as you stared into the dimming light of the july sky. you knew it was him approaching because his feet were heavy against the twigs lining the ground, not light and nimble like sarah’s. 
“y/n,” he called out from behind you, towering presence warm at your back. he sounded nervous, which struck you as odd. when he spoke to you, his voice carried the weight of condescension or irritation–never the champagne bubbles of anxiety. it was obvious he was trying to disguise it, but you knew him too well for it to work. “can we talk?” 
you responded with a disinterested hum, throwing the last rock into the water before turning to face him. you expected him to say something stupid, the sole purpose of him catching you there alone to bother you until you went back to your own house.
what you were not expecting, however, was for him to confess his feelings–feelings for you. you could hear your ears ringing when he asked if you would go with him to midsummers, brain sparking up with disbelief and agitation at the sound of the words leaving his mouth.
there were no second thoughts when he was met with firm rejection. 
you weren’t sure why it caught him by surprise considering he’d been treating you like shit for three years, but he acted as if you shot him at point blank. though you never told anyone, you had a crush on him at one point as well. it began to feel more like hopeless pining after he began to treat you like an incessant fruit fly, which is why you got over it–for the most part, at least.
that’s when the mistreatment from him became a feud on both ends. you felt justified in your feelings towards him, and rafe having the audacity to be mad at you for turning him down only fueled the fire. 
the oldest cameron sibling had his own issues, ones that made him quick to anger towards everything and everyone for no reason, especially you.
“you think you’re funny, huh?” the blonde looks displeased by his friends’ reactions, jaw clenching in annoyance. he could dish it, but he couldn’t take it.
“as if you know what that is.” you raised your brows at him, a smile still covering your face. you reached out a hand towards him, palm landing gently on his broad chest in a false gesture of comfort. “its okay, rafey, not everyone is made for being funny. stick to being useless, okay? you’re amazing at that!”
shoving past the blonde, you walked in the direction of the house after telling sarah you were going to sit inside for a moment to hide from the heat. the coastal carolina humidity was taking a toll on you, and rafe’s presence was only adding to the irritation. 
you took your time walking around the house, the massive interior surrounding you on all sides. the sound of your shoes softly tapping against the ground was the only sound filling the air, the commotion of the party outside left behind the further you ventured. your feet carried you up the grand staircase gracefully, hips swaying with each step until you reached the top.
the mansion was not unfamiliar. you and sarah had run these halls together countless times over the years, no room left unexplored by the two of you–including rafe’s. 
out of curiosity, your eyes drifted in the direction of the boy’s bedroom. the door had been left wide open for anyone to walk in, and there was an invisible force pushing you to enter. it’s been years since you’ve explored it, the last time resulting in being caught by its inhabitant. memories of you and sarah snooping around his drawers flashed through your mind, rafe coming in and cursing the two of you with colorful words you’d never heard in-person before.
this time, rafe wasn’t here to stop you. he was far too occupied outside with his friends to interrupt your impulsive decision to explore his room once more.
you shuffled towards the open door of his room, head peeking into the empty space before stepping inside. the room hadn’t changed much from the last time you saw it; it was still reminiscent of a teenage boy, just much cleaner. your feet softly padded across the floor to the window on the opposite side, staring out of the window at the crowd below. 
the music was just barely audible through the thick glass, the little ants of people wandering around with cups in hand as they interacted with each other. eyes scanning the crowd, your brows furrowed together in confusion. kelce, sarah, and topper were right where you left them, but rafe was nowhere to be found the longer you searched over the attendees.
“maybe he left…” you said to yourself, shoulders raising in a weak shrugging motion.
“who?”
you nearly jumped out of your skin at the sound of the voice appearing in the background so suddenly, a scream bubbling in your throat before you turned around to meet it’s owner. the sight of rafe cameron standing in the doorway barely did anything to calm your nerves, his stern face and crossed arms only making you anxious.
“y’know–i could’ve sworn i told you to stay out of my room?” his blue eyes bored into yours, gaze unrelenting and intense as they awaited an answer for your presence. 
“what are you doing in here?” you were tempted to pinch yourself as the question slipped from between your lips. 
“this is my room,” he said pointedly. “what are you doing in here?”
you shrugged again, the nervousness that filled you moments ago dissipating the longer you faced him. the worst thing he could do is tell you to get out, there was no reason to feel anxious about his appearance. you pushed yourself off the window frame you were resting against to walk towards the door, ready to make your exit now that you’ve been caught.
“not going through your shit, if that’s what you’re worried about. i was bored–now i’m leaving.” you were at the halfway point of his room, eyes rolling nonchalantly as you brushed him off. “what are you doing?”
rafe entered the room fully, a look of mischief shining brightly from behind his eyes as your own flickered to the door that shut behind him with a soft ‘thud’. you could feel your brows pinch together ever so slightly at the sight before you met his face again.
you didn’t flinch when he began to approach you with slow, rhythmic steps. his legs were long and he could have easily made it to you in just a few but he deliberately took his time walking in your direction, each soft noise of his shoe hitting the ground spaced a second apart. 
“what for? not like you have anywhere to be,” his hands were stuffed into the pockets of his shorts and his head tilted to the side in a feigned curiosity that was clearly heard through his voice. “actually–i think we need to talk…”
the blonde stopped barely a foot in front of you. he wasn’t quite invading your personal space, just pushing against the boundary lines of it. your eye twitches involuntarily, but you say nothing.
pushing the boundaries was something rafe had been doing for a while. mentally and physically. it was part of what further pulled the string of tension between you two.
maybe it’s because he’s a guy, but there wasn’t a day you could go seeing rafe without him making comments on your body or touching you without permission. your chest, your backside, your lips, your eyes–there was nothing spared from his overtly sexual thoughts. you weren’t sure if he was doing it solely to piss you off or make you uncomfortable, but being either one did nothing to discourage him. 
in fact, it only served as motivation for him to continue.
it had been more times than you could count that rafe had groped you and claimed that his hand slipped–that you were overreacting. sometimes he wouldn’t even deny it; he’d blame you for wearing a too-short skirt or a top so small that ‘you had to have been wanting the attention or you wouldn’t have left the house like that.’ he had a habit of standing uncomfortably close to you, so close that you could feel the rise and fall of his chest against your back or the hair on his arms tickling your own.
you just brushed it off as him being obnoxious, slapping away wandering hands and giving quick-witted responses to the suggestive remarks. guys his age were assholes and because of how long you’d known him, you never let it bother you too much. or at least, you refused to let him know that it bothered you.
“i don’t think so, rafe.“ you eyed him suspiciously. “what could we possibly have to talk about?” your arms raised to fold across your chest, fingertips cold from the air-conditioning as they rested against your bare skin. 
if it weren’t so hot and sticky outside you would have worn pants, but the frilly, pink skirt adorning your bottom half was far too tempting to pass up in this weather. you could feel the goosebumps rising over your entire body from the coolness of the house.
rafe just stared for a moment. you could see the synapses firing behind the blue of his irises, and the sight unsettled you. the feeling of his eyes raking over your frame did nothing to shake the discomfort either.
“your attention-seeking behavior. your disrespectful attitude.” his gaze flittered back up to meet yours and you could make out the ghost of a smirk wash over his features. “it's becoming a problem, don’t ya’ think?”
“what?” that was not on the list of things you were expecting him to say. you couldn’t help the amused laugh that escaped your lips in a breath. “what the fuck are you talking about right now?” 
“what am i talking about?” his dark blonde brows come together in an expression of concern–one you were sure he was faking.
rafe’s tanned arm reached out towards you, long fingers grabbing a braid from your head and twirling the end around the digits. not abnormal behavior, but you still squinted at him anyway.
“you must be the stupid one if you don’t know what i’m talking about.”
a scoff left your mouth and your hand lifted to smack his away from your hair. your eyes nearly strained out of their sockets from the amount of restraint it took not to roll them, lids blinking away the urge that fought against them.
“bye, rafe.” your path was blocked when you tried to move around him, the tall man following your step before you could even finish making it. “move!”
he caught the hand raised to push him out of the way with ease, the strength in his grip restrained but still felt as it surrounded your wrist. every attempt to take it back into your possession failed, your opponent unrelenting.
startled, a gasp left your mouth when you were pulled forward roughly, rafe’s body pressed tightly against yours as he brought his free hand to rest on your lower back. the ghost on his face was now living, a grin widespread over his lips that showed off the whites of his teeth as he stared down at you. 
“stop touching me, you’re being a creep.” you didn’t raise your voice at him, but you were firm in your demand.
“oh, please,” he rolled his eyes at you, as if you were the one acting out of line. “i think you want me to touch you.”
the hand that rested on your back fell even lower, the entirety of his hand capturing your ass in its grasp. you inhale sharply, the roughness of his fingers squeezing down causing you to jerk forward in an attempt to escape. you were met with rafe’s warm chest trapping you between him and the hand gripping your backside through the fabric of the skirt keeping it covered.
“rafe!” you said loudly. “what the fuck is your problem?”
it’s not like he hadn’t touched you there before; he’d done it plenty. but those were only light brushes in passing or pinching you when you weren’t paying attention. things that he could pretend never happened, things that you could brush off as him being annoying.
this was not that.
“you walk around town in these itty, bitty skirts,” rafe’s smile was gone now, the mischief behind his eyes remained but it was mixed with something else–something you didn’t feel too keen about. “like you own the place–walking around my house like it’s yours. always acting like you’re better than everyone. like–like you’re above all of us. do you think you’re better than everyone, y/n?”
you shook your head at him, doing the best job you could muster at remaining calm despite the alarm bells ringing in your head. the free hand you were using to push his hand away from your ass was useless; he wasn’t budging. however, even with the little voice in the back of your mind telling you not to, you couldn’t help but to give a smart-assed reply.
“i don’t think i’m above everyone, rafe,” the corner of your lips twitched as you fought back the smile that wanted to appear. “just you.”
he chuckled at that, but not because he found it funny. it was obvious by the way his face darkened, which is what queued you into thinking that you should’ve just kept your mouth shut.
relief filled you when he released the clothed flesh of your behind from his vices, but only momentarily. your feet stumbled over each other clumsily as rafe walked forward with purpose, forcing you backwards until your the crease of your knees hit the bed. you remained standing, but if he were to push you again you’d certainly lose your balance.
the oldest cameron sibling was much…larger than you remembered. you saw him practically every day, but you couldn’t recall his biceps ever being this big as your hands held onto them to stabilize yourself. you’ve never felt intimidated when standing near him, but as you craned your neck upward, all you could feel was the fear bubbling in your stomach. faced with his towering height, he could easily overpower you if that’s what he wanted to do–and you had a feeling he did.
a chill ran down your spine.
“you come over here every day wearing practically nothing, swinging that pretty ass in my face like a fucking tease, and then treat me like you don’t know who you’re talking to.” he shakes his head in faux-disappointment, the sound of his tongue tutting against his teeth filling your ears. “i told you to stop doing it, but you refuse. if you weren’t begging for attention, you wouldn’t act like that.”
“are you being serious right now?” you were in complete disbelief. the fear in your stomach remained, but a pang of vexation was thrown into the mix. “the last thing i want is your attention, rafe. i already turned you down once–stop being weird about it. just ‘cause you can’t keep your dick in your pants doesn’t make me the problem.”
the tall blond’s eye twitched, lips raising like hackles as he all but snarled at you. 
both of his hands dropped suddenly, giving you zero time to react as he gripped the bottom of your skirt in his hands and yanked it upwards. a sound of surprise rolled out of your mouth and rafe took advantage of your shock to spin you around and push you face down onto the bed. your body barely bounced once before rafe was seated on the mattress next to you, strong arms reaching over to grab your legs and throw them over his lap haphazardly as he pinned your arms behind your back.
you felt him lean his upper body against you and apply force, preventing you from lifting yourself up off the bed and leaving you completely at his mercy. 
“rafe!” you scolded as he hiked up your skirt even higher and exposed you further. his position under you left you unable to lie flat, back arched uncomfortably with your pelvis resting on his muscled thighs. panic was beginning to fill you. “rafe, stop! what are you doing?”
he doesn’t respond, a bump silence filling the tense air. you could feel the heat of his scrutinizing gaze, unable to control your squirming as the warmth of his hand palmed at your barely covered skin. he massaged at the soft flesh, squeezing it between his fingers like he was being entertained by putty.
“you look so pretty in pink.”
a yelp escaped your lips when he brought his hand down against your ass with a resounding smack. he repeated the action on the other side with the same amount of force before half-assing an attempt at massaging away the sting. you hissed from the pain, his rough groping doing nothing to ease the feeling.
he hums to himself, hand pulling away to deliver another blow. you cursed at him, leg kicking up out of anger but able to do any real damage.
“y’know,” rafe says and you couldn’t help but huff in anger. “you brought this on yourself. we wouldn’t have to do this if you were just a nice girl.” you could hear the disappointment dripping from his voice and it enraged you.
“maybe i’m not nice to you because you’re a fucking dick.” he smacked you again. “fuck! stop, rafe!”
“and you’re a loud-mouthed bitch who needs to learn that actions have consequences.” 
if you thought he wasn’t holding back before, you were proven wrong. 
he spared you no second to recover from the barrage of smacks that he bestowed upon you. each time his hand raised, it reconnected just as mercilessly as it did before. all you could hear was the sound of skin on skin echoing throughout the bedroom, mind completely encompassed by the fiery heat produced by his palm against your ass. 
you wanted to scream out, cry for help from anyone that happened to be wandering the halls of the old manor. you didn’t though. not because you couldn’t, but because you were scared. scared that if someone did come to help, they would see you bent over rafe’s lap like a misbehaving child. scared that the someone who came to your rescue would be sarah–or ward.
the humiliation would kill you.
instead, you settled on continuing with your demands to stop. you swore at him, threatened him, kicked at him as hard as you could. you tried everything to get him to let up, but he refused. the sound of your voice was nearly drowned out by the deafening sound of your backside being brutalized.
you were sure if someone were to walk past, it could be heard on the other side.
“i’m going to fucking kill you, rafe!” you gritted out through teeth clenched so tight that you could pop a blood vessel. “you’re disgusting!”
the blue-eyed man tutted from above you, abruptly pausing his assault. unexpectedly he pushed your legs off his lap and rose to his feet, leaving you in a heap on the bed. you almost sung out a praise to whatever angel had been keeping an eye on you, finally taking pity on your bruised behind. it felt like you were on fire; face hot, skin sticky with the sweat from putting up a fight, and the site of rafe’s abuse burning from the phantom of his hand.
your eyes snapped in rafe’s direction, pulled out of your thoughts by the sound of metal. he’d taken off his expensive leather belt when he stood up, the accessory folded in half between his hands as his hardened, amused eyes stared down at you. your eyes flitted between his face and the belt in his hand nervously, throat bobbing as you swallowed dryly.
he predicted your movement before you could even make it, moving so fast that you thought he was transported to you. rafe caught your legs as you attempted to crawl away and pulled you back over the edge. your feet landed on the floor but your top half remained pinned to the mattress, a strong hand keeping you in place as you struggled against it.
“change of plans,” he whispered against your ear. you were sure he felt you shiver against his hold from the breath on your skin. “i tried being gentle–well, as gentle as i can be with you. clearly, that’s not teaching you anything. “
“haven’t you heard? corporal punishment is outdated and ineffective.” it was in your nature to argue with him, even when he had you pinned beneath him like a wolf would a rabbit. “i’m not learning anything except for how much of a pervert you really are–not that i didn't already know.”
rafe chuckled at this, very darkly. he pulled away from your ear and positioned himself behind you, the heat of his presence radiating in a way that was almost suffocating. the silence was so loud that you could barely hear the sound of the party outside, blood rushing past your ears thunderously.
you braced yourself, unsure of what his next move would be. however, he made no moves. the blond just stood there behind you ominously, keeping your hands pinned to your back as he watched you noiselessly. the temptation to look behind you was overwhelming, and it was then when he decided to act.
the belt made fierce contact with your sensitive skin the moment your head twitched, the stillness between you no longer. 
it took all of your strength to contain the scream that itched to leave your throat, a pained groan coming out from your gritted teeth. this was worse than his bare hand by miles, the fury of the leather leaving you thrashing with a single lick.
“i think,” he landed another strike to your ass after he spoke. “corporal punishment is very effective. it just takes a little…more to break through girls like you. it’s okay, though, you’ll learn.”
the belt comes down again and you couldn’t hold back the scream this time. 
he gave no time for you to recover, the viciousness of each swat intensifying each time it landed. it was loud, much louder than his hands and in your foggy mind you worried endlessly about what would happen if someone else were to hear.
you don’t move when he lets go of your wrists, body paralyzed from pain and fear. rafe takes hold of your barely there underwear and yanks them down, the fabric pooling around your ankles leaving you fully exposed and hot with embarrassment. he takes no time to look between your legs and quickly returns to delivering your punishment.
the comforter beneath you fell victim to the deathly grip of your now free hands, talon-like fingers digging into the fabric as you used it to brace yourself. tears ran down your face uncontrollably and every muscle in your body was tense from the torment.
“rafe, please!” you cried out, hardly able to form a complete sentence. “ow! stop, stop! i’m sorry!”
you weren’t even sure what you were apologizing for, but you couldn’t take the torture for much longer. you’d fix your mouth to say whatever it takes to get him off of you.
“how many times have i told you to stop dressing like a slut? huh?” you responded with a pained screech. he paired the question with another lashing, your cries for mercy doing nothing to garner any of his sympathy. “and yet, you still do what you please. so i’m going to do what ever the fuck pleases me.”
it felt like you’d been here for an eternity, but it’d probably been maybe twenty minutes. twenty minutes since you walked into his room like a dumbass instead of going to sarah’s like you planned on doing in the first place. twenty minutes wasn’t a long time, and nobody would come looking for you any time soon.
a sob racked through your body at that. your hands reached back to grab at his weapon of choice in a desperate effort to stop the battery, and in response rafe put them right back where they were against your spine.
“you want everyone to see your ass so badly,” the leather slashed through the air and landed on you with a crack. “so i’m gonna give you something to show ‘em.” 
you had been reduced to a pile of tears and tender flesh. rafe’s hands holding you down against the bed were hardly necessary; the both of you knew that you didn’t have the energy to fight back anymore. all you could do was scream, cry, and beg for him to end the attack against your poor ass. the welts on your flesh were beginning to form, you could feel it.
“stop crying.” he says from above you. you could practically hear the sound of his eyes rolling, but he paused the lashings anyways. “begging me to stop but–” he cuts himself off, his silence falling loudly on your ears.
the sound of the belt falling to the floor as he threw it into a random corner didn’t even register to you, the metal buckle thumping against the wall. all you could focus on was the hand between your quivering legs, and the throbbing sensation that you hadn’t noticed before. rafe’s fingers gliding against the wetness of your core made you flinch from being unprepared for his touch.
“you're leaking all over yourself…” shame washed over you in a tsunami-like wave, the feeling amplified by the wet sounds coming from where rafe’s hand meets the junction of your thighs. “i don’t think you want me to stop.”
“no!” you shouted. rafe let out a breathy chuckle as he watched you shake your head desperately against the mattress. “no more! please, i don’t want it...”
he hummed in response, fingers still toying with your dripping heat. they were just barely brushing over your clit, the bud swollen with need and twitching with every ghost-like touch. if you could scream, you would, but all you had the energy to do was whimper pathetically as he held you in place.
“hm, alright.” rafe’s agreeance made you release a shaky breath you hadn’t even realized you were holding. “i know what you do want, though.”
you felt his thick fingers grazing your entrance; just the pads of them. he was being a tease, letting you soak in the humiliation of being so adamant on him leaving you alone but having your body betray you. 
he leaned down once again, the softness of his lips tickling the shell of your ear. you swallowed dryly as you struggled to focus on anything other than his torturous fingers sitting idly between your puffy lips. 
“you want me to fuck this little hole open with my fingers,” he hummed again, the vibration of it sending a shockwave through your body. “wanna drool all over my hand with that messy cunt.”
you shook your head, squirming against his hold once again in an attempt to escape his curious fingers. 
“no?” he asked and you shook your head again. “i don’t believe that.”
he only removed his hand from your long enough to flip you onto your back, barely exerting any strength to do so. instead of holding you down by your wrists, you were planted against the mattress by your neck with a firm hand. your own fingers moved to wrap around his arm while his returned to the heat building between your legs. 
you gasped at the feeling of a long, thick digit pushing against the tight resistance as it coaxed you open enough to slip inside. with him between your legs you couldn’t close them–all you could do was lie there pathetically as he did what he wanted. 
“aw, you feel that?” he cooed at you, eyes flickering up at your face briefly before dropping back to his hand. “it slipped right in…i think you can take two, don’t you?”
a whine slipped out at the feeling of a second finger slipping past the barrier of your hole to join the first one. his fingers were way bigger than yours, fitting inside of you more snugly than you were used to. he pulled them out at a snail’s pace, purposefully dragging against your spasming walls before pushing them right back in.
“yeah, you take it real good.” he grinned smugly, clearly enjoying the juxtaposition of the pained look on your face and the way you desperately latched onto his two fingers. “don’t want it, but your pussy’s sucking me in…why’s that?”
you couldn’t answer–not when you were panting like a bitch in heat, trying and failing at catching your breath as rafe stole it away from you. your arousal leaked out over his fingers and there was nothing you could do to stop it. his fingers felt too good, even if you didn’t want to admit it.
he continued with the bare minimum for what felt like forever, probably waiting on you to give in and beg him to fuck you. unfortunately for him, you would never do that. your will was much too strong to do something as desperate as that, and you were basking in enough humiliation as is; you’d never give up the single sliver of pride you had left.
it was rafe who broke first. he said nothing as the speed of his fingers increased, eyes focused on every scrunch of your nose and the whines that forced their way past your bitten lips. the heel of his hand kept making contact with your clit and it made you want to start crying again.
“such a pretty girl,” his eyes raked over your clothed body in satisfaction. something about you having to walk around in the same clothes that he turned you out in got him off, while it made you think about throwing them into a bonfire or burying them in the deepest part of your closet. “getting so wet and needy from me welting up her ass. i think you’re the pervert here, not me.”
“uh-uhn.” you protested the accusation immediately, reaching down the push rafe’s hand away weakly. he looked amused. 
“you’re not?” the blonde moved back to stare at your cunt grooling all over his hand, fingers fucking the mess back inside over and over. “why are you so wet then?”
you didn’t have an answer to that. his fingers pulled out of you completely, using the wetness as more lubrication to spread over your swollen clit. the bucket of sparks in your stomach had long turned into a bubbling cauldron, and the attention to the needy button did nothing but make it burn hotter.
his fingers dipped back inside with much ease this time and you nearly died from the embarrassment. your brain was foggy yet defiant, but your body worked against you by welcoming everything rafe had to offer. 
“no normal girl would get wet from shit like that. screaming and crying, beggin’ me to stop–but look,” rafe shook his head at you, eyes hot as he watched your frame twitch beneath his hands. “you’re squeezing down on my fingers like you want ‘em in there forever.“
he was right. you were screaming, you were crying, you were begging him to stop. now you’re letting him spread you open and getting wet when you should be screaming for him to get off of you. 
what was wrong with you?
you had no time to think about that, not when he added a third finger without warning. a cry filled the air–yours–from the stretch. you were so full. he sped up again, too, treating you with little compassion as he watched ruined your sopping pussy with the thick appendages.
“so pathetic to be this wet for me,” he shook his head at you, lips pulled together in a pout. “you know it too. you should be ashamed.”
you were.
“you’re not even gonna stop me, look at your legs shaking.” he pointed out the way you couldn’t keep still.
he was right; you weren’t gonna stop him. you couldn’t.
the veins in his arms strained with each pump of his fingers, biceps bulging against the tight sleeves of his shirt. you could feel your juices dripping down your ass, your other hole fluttering in sync with the one being stuffed with three fingers. every part of your body was tingling and desperate to be touched, and you were rapidly losing control of yourself the closer rafe brought you to the edge.
he noticed it, too. the way you couldn’t stop clamping down around him, how you unconsciously ground into his palm, the dazed look in your eyes and the desperation in your voice as you lost the ability to hold back.
“look at you,” he said. his eyes were filled with lust, dark and glossed over as he observed your behavior. “ready to cum after putting up all that fight. dressed up in this tiny, little skirt; you were practically asking for this. so disgusting.”
your breath was uneven and you felt like you were going to pass out, mind dizzy and drunk with the forced pleasure. he showed no signs of letting up, digging you out with a fervor that you’d never experienced. the sound of your whining became higher pitched, tears pouring from your eyes as you tip-toed the cliff ahead of you. 
“you’re about to cum, huh?” you nodded your head at him, eyes wide and wet with the lubrication. “yeah? you wanna cum?”
you screamed, but not for the reason you wanted to. 
“no.” rafe pulled his fingers away right before you fell off the edge, leaving your hips bucking against the air as you were denied the release he was forcing upon you in the first place. “you’re not gonna cum unless i tell you to.”
you would have rolled your eyes and protested, but the feeling of his hand coming down against your bare pussy made you yelp. your clit jumped and your nipples were begging to be released from the constraints of your shirt, the pain giving you a kind of pleasure that you weren’t equipped to handle. he did it again, and again. he did it until you were fighting to push him away and close your legs.
“aw, does that hurt?” he pouted at you when you whimpered out some semblance of a ‘yes,’ which was rewarded with another slap. “good.”
it was agonizing; how deliciously painful it was. it was so much–too much. you were becoming dumb, all brain function replaced with the pulsing of your abused cunt. he continued to slap your clit, entranced by the way it twitched and your hole clenched around nothing.
“you want me to stop?” you couldn’t answer; you were too stunned to form a coherent sentence and it made you feel like an idiot. rafe took pleasure in that. “stupid girl, you can’t even say anything. so fucked out and easy for me.” 
you were tempted to push him away and get yourself off, but even through your foggy brain you knew he’d never let you get the chance.
“need to taste this pussy…” he mumbled to himself, not caring if you heard or not.
he dropped to his knees with eyes still focused on you as he blew against your exposed clit, both thumbs spreading your lips open. he wasn’t worried about you trying to escape anymore; not really. it was clear you were too dazed to do much of anything but pant like a dog and take his abuse. 
he finally gave you his tongue after waiting for you to whine for it, the wet muscle flattening against the whole of your sensitive core. the texture of the appendage on your clit had you writhing, legs trapped in his hold and prevented from clamping down around his head.
you trembled as he lapped up your wetness, grinding against his face as he buried himself deep into your wetness. he was like a man starved, licking up your arousal as it spilled out of you in an endless fountain. the plush pillows of his lips encapsulated your clit, sucking on it roughly as he brought his fingers back down to fuck you open. 
your head fell back from the intensity, cries tumbling out of your mouth clumsily as he laved against your rosy bud.
everything was so wet.
“don’t you dare fucking cum.” rafe growled, pulling away from your pussy. his fingers kept going, but he kept his eyes on you now. it was impossible to ignore the way you pulsed around him. “i’m not gonna stop, so you better hold it.”
a broken wail left you and you wanted to curl into a ball. this was just as much of a punishment as being beaten with the belt in the corner, you were now discovering.
“please…” the rope in your stomach was being sawed in half by the second and you weren’t going to last much longer. “i can’t…”
he rose to his full height, staring down at your messy for; thighs covered in sticky precum with your skirt crumpled up at your waist. your skin was hot to the touch and covered in a thin layer of sweat, face wet with tears stains and eyes filled with lust fueled desperation. his fingers worked purposefully in the deepest parts of your pussy that you’d never been able to explore yourself. 
“taking me so fuckin’ deep, princess.” he teased you with his words, his voice only adding difficulty to holding back from cumming all over his merciless fingers.
“rafe…” you couldn’t tell him off; not when you were getting so close, so fast.
“‘rafe…’” he mocked the pleading tone in your voice. ocean blue eyes flickered up towards your own, dark with arousal as he watched you squirm. “you sound so pathetic.”
you could feel your thighs tensing as you tried your best to hold back. you didn’t know what he would do if you came without permission, but it was getting hard to care. his fingers were hitting repeatedly against a spot that had you seeing white and holding your breath. 
rafe let you stay like that for a while, desperately hanging on by a thread as he watched. 
“okay,“ he said, head tilted to the side. “you can cum–but i’m not gonna give it to you.”
“rafe!” you yelped. he pulled his fingers out and delivered a final smack to your already abused clit, smirking at your reaction. 
reaching up towards your face, rafe squished your cheeks together until your mouth was forced open. you audibly protested when he brought his wet fingers to your lips, the smell of your arousal invading all of your senses. your noises of defiance were ignored as he shoved the digits into your mouth. he coated your tongue with the wetness covering his fingers, fucking your mouth in the same way he used your other hole.
you couldn’t stop the saliva that fell from your mouth; it leaked down the sides of your face uncomfortably and you wanted to wipe it away. 
“you can go home later, and rub that dirty little cunt to the memory of this.” you stared up at him wide-eyed, mouth stuffed and clit pulsating at the wanton actions being performed on you. “every time you pick out a skirt to wear, you’re gonna sit on that welted up ass and you’re gonna think about how wet you got from my belt tearing you up.”
he watched you shift uncomfortably on your bare, bruised behind, but showed you no pity. 
the sting of it brought you back to reality, the weight of what just occurred finally coming to your clearer mind. rafe’s hand gripped your jaw and tilted it upwards to bring your attention back to him. the fear that you felt earlier bubbled back up. 
your mouth was relieved from the violating digits grazing the back of your throat. wet fingers slapped against your cheek twice, not hard enough to leave a mark but enough to make you wince from the sting.
“still think you’re above me?” rafe asked, face lowering to just mere inches away from yours. you shook your head the best you could, jaw still under the steel grip of his hand. “you–you should be thanking me, really…i’m older than you, remember? your job is to respect your elders, and my job is to correct you.”
you say nothing; not that you could anyway. he lowered his hand, pulling it away from your jaw and resting it on the circumference of your exposed neck. the tall man hummed at you, head tilting to the side like a puppy as he observed your disheveled form beneath him.
“i did it so that nobody else has to, y/n. jus’ looking out for you like i’m supposed to–even though you don’t deserve it.“ you blinked at him, prompting the fingers lying limply at your neck to squeeze as a warning. “say ‘thank you, rafe.’ you can do that right? ‘thank you for looking out for stupid little girls like me.’” 
you gulped away the part of you that wanted to spit out a curse at rafe, resistance vibrating deep in your bones. this had to be more humiliating than being spread out over his fingers, you thought.
“thank you, rafe.” the voice that came out sounded pained, and rafe could tell. he tutted at you, clearly dissatisfied.
“i don’t think you mean that…do you want the belt on your pussy this time?” his eyebrow quirked up at you, amused clear in his eyes as he watched your own widen in panic.
“no! no, i really mean it!”
his free hand landed between your legs again as it delivered the stinging punishment of his palm once more. 
“then fucking act like it.” rafe snarled at you, the heat of your center against his taunting hand. “‘thank you for looking out for me, rafe. you’re so good to me.’ and you better fucking mean it.” 
“thank you for looking out for me, rafe. you’re s’good to me!” you cried out weakly. rafe continued to slap at your achy clit with his flattened fingers, wordlessly telling you he wasn’t satisfied with your response. “i’m stupid ‘nd i don’t deserve–ah! i don’t deserve it. i’ll be nice, i promise!”
happy enough with your gratitude, he relented. he pulled his hand away from your quivering lower lips and stepped back, allowing your legs to fall shut and guard your crying, battered cunt from the cool air blowing against it from the ac.
“you’re welcome.”
you watch from your spot on the bed as rafe picks up your discarded underwear from the floor. he shoves the item in his pocket, leaving you bare with nothing to protect yourself. standing from your position on the mattress, your legs wobbled like a young doe before straightening themselves to their full length. 
you’d never felt so violated, so defeated. what made it even worse was the way your body still tingled with need. the feeling was deep inside you, walls clamping down on the phantom of rafe’s manly fingers. he was right, and it brought a cloud of shame that rained down on you. the first thing you’d do when you got home is stuff yourself with your own and pretend they were his. every time you sat down and felt the sting of his punishment, you knew you’d leak just like you were right now.
how could you call him a creep, a pervert? how could you call him disgusting when you were the one making a mess all over him after being held down and beaten?
feelings of guilt weighed heavy on your chest. you could pretend that none of this ever happened, but rafe would never let you forget; there’s no way he’d ever let it go.
shaking away the thoughts plaguing your mind, you pulled yourself together the best you could. a hiss sounded out through the room as you pulled the skirt down from around your waist.
the last thing you wanted to know was how bad your ass and thighs looked, the raised skin evidence enough as it painfully rubbed against the fabric of your skirt. rafe opened the door of his bedroom in a swift motion to reveal an empty hallway, eyes staring pointedly at you. the sound of your swift feet echoed off the floor, legs carrying you the fastest that they possibly could without tripping over each other.
before you made it past the threshold, rafe snatched your arm up into his grip. he leaned down to meet you at eye level, closely examining the way your breathing hitched.
“and stay the fuck out of my room."
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cameronsprincess · 7 months
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— summary: Rafe Cameron. Your toxic ex boyfriend who can’t seem to let you go. Even your best attempt at fighting him off, telling him no, he comes back. He won’t let you go.
— CW: 18+ only! toxic!ex bf!rafe, dark!rafe, violence, kidnapping, strong language, cocaine use, fingering, choking, marking, unprotected sex, breeding kink.
— a/n: this is a work of fiction. i do not condone anything written. this will all be in rafe’s pov. enjoy🖤
likes, comments and reblogs aren’t expected but are very appreciated <3
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❥ toxic — r.c
I always knew something was wrong with me. It started when my mom died. My mind just went… Dark.
My life had started taking a really dark turn. And for a while, I could control my dark tendencies, I could control the darkness that ate away at my mind. But, the older I got, the harder it became to control that darkness inside me.
For as long as I could remember, my dad always hated me. He fucking hated me, and there was nothing I could do to change that. He only cared about Sarah, my younger sister. From the moment she was born, all of his love and attention went to her. Like she was something fucking special, like she hung the fucking moon. I was left to care for myself, pick myself back up when I fell. My dad still financially supported me, — even though he wished he didn’t have too — so at least I still had that going for me.
But he didn’t love me. No, he wished I had been a stain on the bedsheets, wished I had been wiped away with a fucking warm washcloth after the deed was done. But that wasn’t the case, obviously. I was born. And I was here. And he fucking hated that.
I stopped believing in love at a very young age. Fucked up, right? What kid doesn’t believe in love? What kid doesn’t believe that someone is capable of loving him? If you didn’t already know the answer to that, it’s me. At least, it was me.
The idea of loving someone and being loved crept back into my life when I was eighteen. When she came into my life. I loved her the best I knew how, which, wasn’t really saying anything. I didn’t know how to fucking love someone, so… I hurt her. I hurt her in every way possible…
… And when she finally walked away from me, telling me that she “deserved better”, I fucking lost it. I lost the only fucking person in this world who mattered to me. The only person who tried to love even the darkest parts of me. I fucking lost her.
But her walking away from me. From us. Wasn’t going to stop me. No, she was fucking mine. And I was going to get her back, even if I had to force my way back into her life, she would come back to me.
“Rafe, are you sure about this?” Topper asks, pulling me from my own mind.
I shake my head, dragging my eyes up to find Topper’s intense stare. His eyes narrow into small slits, eyebrows raising as he tries to read my face. I blink. Once. Twice. “What?” I ask, completely confused.
“Are you sure you wanna do this shit, man? Y/N will never fucking forgive you, and you know…”
“I don’t fucking care, Top! She’s mine, and she needs to be fucking reminded of that!” I snap. My fists are now balled up at my sides, chest heaving up and down and nostrils flared as thoughts of her begin to fill my mind.
Topper throws his hands up in surrender. “Whatever, bro. Not my problem.”
I smile, but it holds no amusement. No happiness. It’s a cold smile. “Exactly. Not your problem. Now cut that shit up, I need one more line before I head out.”
Topper sighs, but does as I ask. He leans forward, grabbing my black Amex off the glass table and begins cutting a new set of lines for the two of us. I chew at the skin around my thumb nail as I watch him create four perfectly straight lines out of the white powdery substance.
Once he finishes, I shove his shoulder to the side, allowing me access to the table. I snatch the already rolled hundred dollar bill off of the glass, rolling it a little tighter and placing one end to my right nostril. I lean forward, sticking the other end of the bill onto one of the four lines and snort the powder up into my nose. I quickly do my second line before tossing the bill back onto the table and falling back into the couch, squeezing my eyes shut and letting out a loud sigh. The drug burns my nose and throat, but the numbing sensation that comes from the cocaine quickly replaces that burn. My nose, throat, and tongue are numb, but my entire body feels like it’s on fire, a new surge of adrenaline pumping into my veins and making me ready to do what I must do tonight.
I stand from my spot on the couch, glancing down at Topper once more before heading for the door. His concerned voice stops me in my tracks. “I really hope you know what you’re doing, man. She’s going to hate you after tonight”
I snort. I don’t give a fuck if she hates me. She’s mine, and she needs to be reminded of that. She can’t hate me more than she already does. Or maybe she can, I don’t know. If I have anything to say about it though, she won’t hate me. No, she’ll love me again. I’ll make sure she loves me.
“Maybe. But she can’t hate me forever. She will love me again.”
I walk out the door, slamming it shut behind me before Topper can even open his mouth to ramble off anymore bullshit. I didn’t care to hear it. I didn’t care about his opinion. I was doing this.
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I sit outside of her work. Watching. Waiting. I know she’ll be off any minute now, I used to pick her up every night when we were together. My girl doesn’t have a car, so I already know she’ll probably be leaving with one of her coworkers, but that won’t stray my plan. It’ll only make it more interesting. More fun.
My phone goes off in my pocket, letting me know I have a text. Pulling it out, I glare down at the words on the screen.
Ward: Where the fuck are you Rafe? Tonight was fucking important and you’re fucking everything up. I don’t even know why i’m surprised, you’re nothing but a walking fuck up.
I growl, angrily tossing my phone into the passenger side floorboard. Fuck my dad. And fuck the business deal that he so badly needed me at tonight. He doesn’t give a fuck about anything other than money and Sarah. So naturally, I’m putting what I want first. And what I want is Y/N. I don’t give a fuck about anything else.
The sound of her laughter filters in through my cracked window, making me sit up straight in my seat. One glance out the windshield and I see her. She looks as gorgeous as I remember. And her laugh, fuck, it has my cock growing in my pants, straining against the harsh fabric of my boxers and jeans. I adjust myself, and shake my head a few times. I need to focus. My eyes travel to the left of her. My fists automatically ball themselves by my sides when I see her walking and talking with Pope. I fucking hate that pogue. I hate all pogues. Except for her. She will always be the exception.
He stands too close to her for my liking, and it makes my blood boil. Tossing a part of my plan out the window, I shove my door open and march my way toward them. She’s in the middle of talking when Pope’s wide eyes have her audibly clamping her mouth shut.
“Pope, what is- Rafe.” She says softly, her breathing picking up now that I’m right in front of her.
“Baby girl.” I reply, a slow smile spreading across my face.
“Don’t- Don’t call me that, Rafe. We’re not together anymore.”
My jaw tightens at her words, nostrils flaring as I try and keep my composure. I don’t need to lash out just yet. I need to keep my calm, for now.
I ignore her and turn my attention toward Pope. “Heyward. Get the fuck out of here.” I say simply. It’s as simple as that. He can leave, or I can beat the shit out of him. The choice is his.
He glares at me, his eyes narrowed into slits and his breathing calm. Seems like the kid grew a pair of balls in the last thirty seconds. He opens his mouth to speak, but my fist connecting with his nose cuts off whatever bullshit he was about to say.
“Rafe! What the fuck?!” Y/N shouts, dropping to her knees and checking on the boy that’s now laid out on the ground, blood pouring from his probably broken nose.
“Get up, Y/N. We’re leaving”
Her neck snaps in my direction so fast, eyes narrowed. “I’m not fucking going anywhere with you! Fucking leave me alone, Rafe!”
I roll my neck from side to side before taking a step toward her. “You can either come with me willingly, or I can make you come with me. Your call, baby girl.”
The look in her eyes has me straining in my jeans. She’s so fucking sexy when she’s mad. She looks down at Pope, he’s groaning and holding his nose as blood continues to pour from it.
“Y/N! Now!” I shout. My patience is growing thin. And she’s not going to like it if I have to force her to come with me. I want her to make at least one choice on her own tonight.
She slowly stands, but Pope grabbing at her hand has her stopping halfway up. I fist my hands, ready to fucking hit him again if needed.
“Y/N… Don’t go with him…” Pope says softly. I chuckle at that. He thinks she has a choice in the matter. The only choice she has is to willingly come. And even now, I have a feeling she’s going to opt out of that choice.
She glances between him and me, and I can see the gears turning in her head. She’s thinking of running. Go for it, baby. I’ve planned for her running. As if she can read my thoughts, she yanks her hand from his grip and turns as fast as she can. She takes off running down the empty street, but I’m right on her heels.
“Keep running baby, you know I love it when you run!”
She looks behind her shoulder, a look of pure fear in her eyes. When she puts her focus back on what’s in front of her I pick up my speed. Once I’m directly behind her, I wrap my right arm around her waist and yank her back into my front. She begins kicking and screaming, her nails clawing into my arm. “Rafe! Put me down!” She shouts, and I just laugh.
“Baby girl, you know I can’t do that.”
I carry her back to my truck, opening the back door and tossing her inside. I jog around to the driver side, glancing over to where she and Pope walked out of and noticing he’s gone. Oh well. Not my problem. My dad will get me out of whatever he tries to throw my way. I climb inside the truck, locking the doors and bringing the engine to life. I glance into the back seat to find her sitting up right, and she’s seething. Anger flashes through her beautiful eyes, her chest is heaving up and down and nostrils flaring as she glares at me.
“Fuck you, Rafe! What the fuck do you want?!”
I smirk. “You.” I answer simply, and her eyes go wide.
It’s as simple as that. I want her. And she is going to want me again, even if it takes days, months, years. She will want me again.
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“Rafe, put me the fuck down! I can fucking walk!” She shouts. Her small fists are pounding into my back. I have her tossed over my shoulder, walking up the stairs of the porch and into the front door of Tannyhill.
Once inside, I finally set her down on her feet and she scrambles away from me. I laugh, she thinks she can escape me, but she can’t. She never will. She’s mine to own. To fuck. To control. She’s mine.
“You know, it hurts my feelings how scared of me you are, baby girl.”
Her eyes narrow. “Are you fucking serious? You just basically kidnapped me, Rafe! You’re fucking insane!”
I let out a breathy laugh. “I am insane. But only for you. Because of you. I fucking love you, Y/N. Why can’t you see that?”
She scoffs. “You don’t love me. You want to fucking own me, like I’m your fucking property or some shit. I’m not! I’m a human fucking being, Rafe!”
I love the fight she has in her. I always have. Just not when she’s fighting me. Against me. She’ll learn soon enough that I am the scariest part of her life. I’m her biggest threat. But I will also protect her. She needs to be protected from everyone but me. She fucking needs me.
“This can go one of two ways, sweetheart. One. You can willingly come upstairs with me, and let me fuck that attitude out of you, let me remind you who the fuck you belong to. Or two. I can drag your ass up those stairs by your hair and remind you who the fuck you belong to. Either way, you’re going to be begging for my cock by the end of the night.”
I don’t miss how her nipples harden at my words. She still wants me. When she notices my eyes on her now hard nipples she rolls her eyes and crosses her arms across her chest, causing me to smirk in amusement and arch a brow.
“I don’t fucking belong to you, Rafe! God, you’re fucking crazy! Go to hell!”
A smile spreads across my face at her words. “Sweetheart, I am hell.”
Her breath hitches in her throat and her arms drop to her sides. I take a step toward her, causing her to take one back. I roll my eyes, taking one long step toward her and closing the distance between us. I wrap my right arm around her waist, pulling her flush into my body. I lean my head down, breathing in her intoxicating scent before my lips brush against the shell of her ear, I whisper, “You wanna do things my way? I’ll take you right here. Right now. Don’t tempt me, sweetheart. I’m not against letting anyone see me claim what’s mine.”
I feel her body tense in my hold, and it only makes my smile grow. She’s scared of me. But that’s expected. For now. After I’m done with her, she’ll be begging for more. She won’t want to let me go. She’ll be mine, just like I am hers.
“Rafe-” She breathes out, but I cut her off. I smash my lips against hers in a breathtaking, aggressive kiss. She involuntarily moans against my mouth, allowing me to force my tongue into her mouth. She melts into me, her body going slack in my hold as she allows my tongue to explore her mouth, brushing against hers. God I fucking missed her. The taste of her.
She snaps her eyes open, pushing me back, and I’m so fucking weak from the kiss that I don’t fight it. I stumble back a little before straightening myself. She has her eyes narrowed and her tiny fists balled at her sides.
“Fuck you, Rafe! Stop trying to get into my head! I- I fucking can’t keep doing this with you!”
She tries to make her way past me, but I grip the back of her neck. I pull her backward, angling her head up so her eyes are on mine. She tries to pull herself from my grip, but I tighten my hand on her neck, making her whine out in pain.
“Is my soul too dark for you, baby girl? What is it? Can you not love me for who I am?”
She opens her mouth to speak, but I release her neck, tossing her onto the ground in the process. She lands on her ass, her hands flying behind her to keep her upright. I slowly make my way toward her, letting out a deep exhale.
“You see, I tried to be better for you. But I can’t change who I am. Not for you. Not for anyone. But, one thing did change. You wanna know what that is?”
Her eyes begin to fill with tears, one slipping past her lower lashes. “W-What?”
“I learned how to love. How to accept love into my life. I love you, Y/N. And you left me. Left me like I didn’t mean anything to you. That should have been enough for me to let you go. You know? I’ve always been rejected. My own dad fucking hates me. I’ve never known love. But you. You came into my fucking life and wrecked everything. I fell in love with you, and I know you loved me. So I can’t just let that go. I fucking need you. And you need me. Even if you don’t want to admit it.”
I kneel in front of her, reaching my right hand out and running it down the side of her pretty face. She flinches back and I grip her cheeks between my fingers, squeezing tightly. “Now. Let me remind you of who the fuck you belong to.”
She whimpers, more tears spilling past her lower lashes. I lay her onto her back, crawling on top of her and caging her in with my arms. She doesn’t fight. Sobs rack her chest, and she rolls her head to the side, trying to avoid my stare. I press my hips into hers, groaning when my hard dick presses against her clothed pussy.
“You feel that, Y/N? That’s what you do to me. You own me. Are you going to let me own you?”
She rolls her head back toward me. Her bloodshot eyes and mascara stained cheeks make me groan. Fuck, I’m in love with this girl. Even if she’s terrified of me right now, I fucking need her.
I chuckle at her silence. My hands go to the hem of her work shirt, sliding it up and exposing her smooth stomach. I take my left hand and run my fingers over the expanse of her skin, pulling a shudder from her. “You’re so fucking beautiful, sweetheart. And you’re all mine.”
She chokes out a sob, squeezing her eyes shut as my fingers trail up her stomach and to the underside of her bra. I cup one of her breasts in my hand, firmly squeezing at it. She whimpers, bringing her bottom lip between her teeth to try and silence her cries of pleasure.
I slip her shirt up and over her head, leaving her in her pink lace bra. I snake my hand underneath her back, finding the clasps that hold the bra in place and pop them. My fingers find the straps, slowly sliding them down her arms and exposing her chest to me. Her nipples are hard, perfectly pointed peaks. My mouth waters, wanting to suck on them. I lean my head down, wrapping my lips around one of her nipples and sucking at it lightly before bringing it between my teeth and lightly biting. She moans loudly when I pull back with her nipple in my teeth. I let the pebbled bud fall from my mouth and smirk down at her.
“Are you wet f’me, sweetheart?”
She rolls her eyes. “No”
I chuckle. She’s lying. I know her better than she thinks I do. And I know she’s fucking lying. She’s ashamed. She doesn’t want to be wet for me, but she is.
I run my fingers down to the waistband of her jeans, popping the button on them and slowly pulling the zipper down. She squirms underneath my touch, trying to get away but I press my weight into her, keeping her pressed onto the cold tile of the entryway of Tannyhill.
I slide the rough fabric down her legs just enough to expose her matching pink thong. I bought her this set. And fuck, she looks good wearing it. I slide my hand between us again, running my hand up her inner thighs until I reach her clothed center. Even from here, I can feel how soaked she is. I slide her panties to the side, baring her cunt and running my index finger through her arousal slick folds.
“You’re right, you’re not wet. You’re fucking soaked, princess. Your body misses me.”
I shove my index finger inside of her soaked pussy, pulling a moan from her. I add another, curling them slightly and working them in and out of her slowly. I press my palm firmly against her clit as I continue to fuck my fingers in and out of her. The sounds her pussy makes while my fingers are buried inside her have me straining harshly against my jeans. She begins to roll her hips, fucking herself against my hand.
I bury my face into her neck, sinking my teeth into her flesh and sucking a bruise into her otherwise flawless skin. I release her skin, looking at the deep purple bruise that adorns her neck before I lick the bruise and up to her ear. I nip at the lobe of her ear before whispering, “That’s it baby, ride my hand. Good fucking girl”
She whimpers, her hips picking up the pace as she rides my fingers and hand. Her pussy clenches around my fingers, letting me know she’s close to her release. I quickly pull my fingers from her, and she whines at the loss.
“Don’t worry baby, you’ll cum. But it’ll be all over my cock. I can’t wait any longer. I’m going to fuck this pretty pussy, and you’re going to love it”
I push myself off of her and quickly kick my shoes off before pulling my shirt over my head. I work on my jeans next, pulling them and my boxers down in one swift motion. Her eyes go wide when she sees my throbbing cock, precum already leaking from the tip. I drop to my knees and pull her jeans down the rest of the way. I rip her thong from her hips, making her gasp in surprise. “Rafe, I liked those!” I smirk. I can buy her a thousand more where that came from.
Ignoring her anger over the flimsy fabric I ripped from her body, I place my left hand on the ground, baring my weight while grasping my hard cock in my right hand and line it with her weeping entrance. My blue eyes find hers. “Tell me to stop. Tell me you don’t fucking want this, because if you don’t, I’m not sorry for what’s to come. I will fucking hurt you. I will not be gentle.”
She doesnt respond, and I take her silence as my okay. I shove myself inside her in one harsh push. I groan when my swollen head hits that spongey sweet spot inside of her and she gasps loudly. Her hands fly around my neck, nails digging into my shoulders. I stay still for a minute, needing to focus on not busting inside of her right now. I want to enjoy this. I want to fucking feel her wrapped around me for longer than a few fucking minutes, but she feels so fucking good. I feel like a teenage boy discovering women for the first time all over again.
“Fuck baby girl, so fucking right and wet. And all for me.” I rasp.
“Rafe… Please?” She begs.
“Please what, baby girl. Tell me what you want”
She whimpers and it makes my dick jerk inside her. “Please… Fuck me Rafe. I- I need you.”
I smirk. She admitted that she needs me. She fucking needs me.
I ignore the small victory for now and slowly pull myself from inside her, slamming myself back inside her warm cunt before she can even think of saying anything.
My hips find a pace, quick and harsh. I slam myself in and out of her. Her sweat slick body slides on the tile, and I wrap and arm around her waist, keeping her in place. I still myself inside her, quickly grabbing her right leg and placing it around my hips, allowing me better access to her pussy. I begin pounding my hips into hers again, pulling the sweetest moans from her lips.
“Tell me you’re fucking mine. Tell me you won’t ever fucking leave me again.”
She opens her mouth to speak, but nothing but whines and moans come out. I slow my hips, completely stilling myself inside her once more. My right hand wraps around her throat, squeezing and cutting off her air. Her wide, tear filled eyes stare up at me. “Fucking say it! Tell me you fucking need me! Tell me you fucking love me!”
She tries to speak, but my grip on her throat tightened, making her beautiful face turn a bright shade of red. Her lips begin to turn blue and I release her neck. She sucks in a deep breath of air, gasping as tears pour from her eyes.
“Tell me baby. Tell me you’re mine.”
“I-I’m yours, Rafe. Only yours. I need you. I love you. I’ll never leave you again.”
I smile at her words. They make a warmth flood through my body. A warmth i’ve only ever felt with her. She may be lying for her own pleasure right now, but she will love me again, and she will mean it.
Satisfied with her answer I begin thrusting into her again, slow and sensual thrusts that have her softly moaning. I dip my head down, burying it into her neck again. I sink my teeth into her shoulder, biting on the skin harshly before moving to the other side and repeating the action. She will be completely marked by me by the end of the night. Reminders of this night, reminders of who she belongs to marked into her skin.
Her pussy clenches around me, tightly gripping at my cock and sucking me in deeper. I groan, my lips kissing over all the bruises and teeth marks i’ve left on her skin. “Come f’me, princess. Come all over my cock, s’kay. Let me have it”
She whimpers, her pussy pulsing and body stiffening as her release rushes through her. Her body shakes, tears spill from her eyes as she screams my name. I smash my lips with hers, silencing her cries. Our tongues clash together, heavy breathing and the sounds of our skin slapping bounce off the walls. I break the kiss, my eyes finding hers. “I’m gonna cum inside this pretty pussy baby. I wanna see you swollen with my child. Do you want that? You can’t escape me if you’re pregnant with my child.”
She whines, squeezing her eyes shut as she nears another orgasm. I feel her pussy clench around me again, squeezing me tightly like it’s trying to milk me for every last drop of my cum.
My hips stutter, dick twitching inside her warm and wet cunt as I explode deep inside her pussy. “That’s it baby, take it all. I wanna see you pregnant with my baby. You’re mine. Forever”
I push deep inside her one more time, shoving my cum deep into her abused cunt before I slowly pull myself out. I fall to the floor beside her, rolling onto my side and kissing her sweat slick forehead. “All mine baby. You’re never leaving me again.”
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rafe cameron masterlist | taglist form
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rafeysbafey · 7 months
Note
Can you do something off of this https://www.tumblr.com/maybankslover/742448271241461760/so-fucking-rafe-cameron-coded-id-absolutely-tell
based off this request
possessive!rafe, brief breeding kink, MDNI
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your hips moved up and down at a rapid pace, tits bouncing in rafe’s face as he greedily grabbed and squeezed them, fingers pinching at your nipples causing a whine to fall from your lips.
rafe never let you top, he never let you dominate him— but tonight was a special night, your anniversary.
and with the constant begging and pleading, he finally gave in and let you ride him.
“fuck you feel so good,” he commented, large hands finding rest on your hips as he helped you bounce on his length.
“you make me feel so good,” you whined, your thighs starting to burn as you leaned forward to rest your head on his shoulder, bouncing slowly to try and ease the pain in your legs.
“you’re so good to me, rafe,” you cooed in his ear, his fingers digging into the fat of your ass as you pulled away slightly to view him better.
“always in charge, no matter what.”
his eyes darkened at your words, cock twitching inside your walls as he started to move you up and down, a small whine leaving your lips at the feeling.
“im in charge,” he grunted, hand coming down to slap your ass hard, causing you to jolt against him with a whimper.
“you’re in charge, rafe,” you mumbled, eyes locking with his, “you own me—everything i do, what i wear, what i eat, who i talk to-”
he suddenly snapped his hips up into your dripping heat, a moan leaving your lips as he started to drill up into you.
“gonna fuck a baby into you,” he groaned, wrapping his arms around your waist to hold you in place, “gonna keep you here with me forever.”
“my obedient girl, all for me.”
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rafeyswrd · 3 months
Text
a quiet place au, series one
. . . from my pogue!reader x rafe cameron universe.
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SUMMARY. all you wanted was to spend a day work free. a tragic expectation really, when the screeching and dreadful screams sounded through the island. and after painful trudges and sour wounds, it didn’t take long to figure out that all you needed to do was stay quiet — and simultaneously take care of a terrified and overly scared cameron.
day one. chapter one.
CONTENT WARNINGS. gore. blood. violence. death. wounds. vile monsters (?). starvation ( not an ed ). puking. false methods of healing. overuse of medication. drug addiction & withdrawal ( rafe ). diseases. implication of mental health disorders ( depression, anxiety ). attachment issues. mention of parental abuse. sexual relationships ( smut ). bad friendships. romance through horror ✍🏽
PLEASE READ AUTHOR’S NOTE. despite the content warnings, rafe and reader’s relationship is actually the healthiest thing amongst all of this. tooth rotting yearning, fluff and longing is present through and through. ———— rafe is not fully ooc (?). it’s just this is set in season 1 right before he killed peterkin, and i truly believe he’s very fragile through that time period due to his father’s abuse and drug usage. — so this is just how i *honestly* imagine he’ll behave.
tag list still open ! . . .
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janicekao · 5 months
Text
Kookville
Pairing: Rafe Cameron x stepsis reader(dark smut) Summary: Rafe Cameron and his step sister secretly have been hooking up and he is extremely possessive over her. She's a plus size black goddess and he wants her all to himself, although they often quarrel and bicker, she is his and only his. (reader may use Y/N or choose any name of your liking for the fem character)
Warnings: stepcest, dark romance, smut, hate s3x, rough s3x, cr3ampie, violence, br33ding kink, possessive, d0m&femsub, dub!con, etc.
3890 words
Wattpad link:
Enjoy my babies <3 -------------------------------------
The house quiets down just the way that you like it. Each of your family members have their own plans as they do everyday in the beautiful OBX.
You enjoy the beach, but what you enjoy the most is the new mansion you and your mom just moved into when it's nice and empty.
It's only been you and your mother for as long as you have known it, but just last year, she married the millionaire real estate developer, Ward Cameron.
Not only did you have to get used to having a stepfather, but now you have three step-siblings. Two sisters, Sarah and Wheezie Cameron, and a brother, Rafe Cameron.
You enjoy Sarah and Wheezie's company. Sarah is a year or two younger than you, but she's really down to Earth. Wheezie is the baby, she's much younger than the entire house and seriously looks up to her big sister Sarah.
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The girls are nothing like Rafe and Ward...
Rafe and Ward are two of the same kind. Arrogant, selfish, spoiled, and most of all pure evil. Labeling themselves as "Kooks" they believe that they are better than the lower class people on this island who are known as the "Pogues."
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You're not sure what your mother saw in Ward Cameron, but you have no right to say anything being that for the last few months, you've been fucking Rafe behind everyone's back.
Started as a drunken mistake, now it has become a necessity to you both.
He needs you so badly, that if he weren't as stuck up as he is, he'd worship the ground you walk on... But then again, maybe he wouldn't with the amount of hate you both have for each other.
You see him as a cruel, rich, arrogant, asshole... And he sees you as a boring, loser, with a bad attitude. So why put up with each other?
Because the sex is fucking incredible.
Incredible to the point that he spoils you with skimpy lingerie and has put you on a birth control regiment.
Each time you do it, you promise yourself it's the last... Hating the fact that you and Rafe were supposed to become family, and now embarrassing enough, you two can't stop boning.
Maybe it is a kink that you both share together... An exhilarating fear of getting caught and the excitement of doing something so extremely wrong...
Whatever it is, you just can't stop.
—————
Lounging in a pair of black shorts, you enjoy the quaintness of your room as you flip through a magazine on the bed.
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Sarah and Wheezie are out for ice cream, Mom and Ward are out shopping and spending alone time together, and Rafe is out on the town being devious as always... so you thought.
Bursting through your bedroom door, Rafe comes inside as he searches your purse for money...
You sigh, here we go again.
"What is it this time?" You continue to read as you ask in sarcasm. "For coke, or molly?"
"Shut up, y/n." He takes the only money you have, quickly storing it in the pockets of his pants. "It's my Dad's money anyways. If you need more, just go ask your slutty mother."
"What did you just say?" Hearing the insult about your mother makes your blood boil.
You leave your bed to quickly check him, however he only finds your short and innocently chubby stature amusing. You're far from threatening, voice too sweet to strike fear into anybody.
Staring down at you he chuckles deviously. "You heard me right. Every single night, they keep me up as she loudly fucks my dad out of all of his money."
Rafe caresses your full bottom lip as he gently pulls it down. "Like mother, like daughter, huh?"
You slap Rafe clean across his face.
He takes it like it's nothing.
A low toned growl heats his throat. "Do it again."
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You do.
Face hot and red from the second slap, he absolutely loves it.
Rafe tightens his grip around your wrists pulling you up against him. His face should be stinging with pain but instead you feel his hardened cock poke against your bellybutton.
"When was the last time we—"
"Fuck off." You immediately interrupt his lewd intentions as you find yourself back onto your bed and reading your magazine.
Rafe gently lays next to you. He's quiet, too quiet as his intense blue eyes watch you.
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Rolling your eyes you immediately turn your back on him. You try and hide the fact that his cologne from after his fresh shower has you almost dizzy with arousal, but he knows.
He watches the goosebumps fill the skin of your arms and begins to smirk.
"What is it this time?" He gently taunts. "Was it my presence? Maybe lying beside you? Or was it the cologne?"
Rafe chuckles as he watches your body tense up. "My cologne. It's always my smell isn't it, y/n?"
"I'm in a rush." He snaps.
Rafe pulls the tiny shorts off of your hips and down your legs before he tosses them to the floor. "I have places to be, not time to waste here with you. Lay on your back."
"You came in here to bother me, remember?" You play hard to get as you bark, knowing that your panties are soaked for him. "Go fuck yourself Rafe."
"Yeah?" He questions. "Well I can do that too."
As you ignore him, you hear his khakis suddenly unzip and the sounds of lewd fapping.
You peel your eyes from the magazine and notice Rafe stroking himself at the sight of you in your underwear and T-shirt.
His mouth hangs agape as he whispers your name. You continue to peek and your mouth begins to water for his handsomely long cock.
His large hand seems to swallow yours up as he takes your attention from your magazine and places your digits over his shaft for you to continue the hand job.
You sigh. "Rafe, what do you want from me?"
"You know what I want." He groans lightly. "I'm going to give you this cock and then I have to go and meet up with Barry."
Rolling your eyes at the thought of Rafe's friend Barry, you know for sure that the money he stole from you is to party. Barry is the worst company to keep... OBX's drug dealer.
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Taking your hand away from him as he nears his cum immediately aggravates him.
Rafe takes your magazine and throws it out of your bedroom's opened window, vexed from the aching blue balls you've now given him.
"I was reading that!?" You whine as you watch the pages of your favorite magazine soar through the wind and out of your window.
Rafe puts himself away as he scoffs and begins to leave your room. "You're just a fucking tease."
You hate being called a tease.
You aren't a tease, you two just... hate each other.
Sitting up from your comfortable position, you begin to demand an exchange. "What's in it for me?"
Rafe hardly hears you as he becomes nearly hypnotized by the way your thighs expand as you sit on the edge of the bed.
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"Rafe!?" You complain.
"Whatever you want." He can't pull his eyes from you as he licks the drool from his lips in temptation.
You begin to ponder over what it could be that you want in return... You are having a bit of trouble making friends in this new state, maybe getting out more could help. As much as Rafe parties, you are sure that tagging along will help you meet new people.
"Let me come with you to the beach party this Friday!" You finally decide.
"The beach party?" He frowns. "No fucking way. I know you too well, y/n. You'll do something stupid like wear that black string bikini I bought you... That's only for me to see."
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You laugh. "Rafe, I'm fully grown, you forget that you're my stepbrother... not my dad."
He gags. "Trust me, I remember quite well."
You reach to aggravate him further. "You're just afraid you'll see me flirting, having fun, and ready to fuck someone else, huh?"
His sarcastic grin fades until his eyes darken. He hates when you push him there, and somehow you're the only one who knows how to do it.
"Do you remember the last time you tried to make me jealous?" Rafe begins to threat.
You reminisce on the red and blue lights that approached the fist fight that nearly knocked you to the ground as you tried to step in between Rafe and your potential one night stand. The evening at a local bar that you wished you never had visited... The evening when you realized how possessive Rafe was truly over you.
You gulp, "I try not to actually."
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"Good." He fumes. "Now take off your panties, you're wasting my time."
Tempted to watch the spoiled rich boy plead for something that only you have control over, you begin to toy with his patience.
"Hmm?" You taunt. "Beg for it."
"What? Beg? You?" He laughs in a way that most would see as him bullying you.. Laughter that seems like you're not shit to him, but you know that you are. Your confidence has always been your most powerful trait, also what drives Rafe mad the most. "I can get pussy somewhere else."
He gulps as your cold siren eyes wait for his childish laughter to end. "So do it."
Rafe's jaw clinches. He's terribly angry that the only sex that he actually wants, is yours.
His skin begins to redden as you break the arrogant spirit of the powerful six-foot-two-inch man of pure muscle. "Please, y/n?"
You ignore him... it inflames him.
"You fucking want it too!" He scoffs. "Stop playing so hard to get!"
"So what? I also want a million dollars Rafe." You argue. "I want to hear you beg or you're not getting a fucking thing."
You gently part your plush thighs apart to drive him a bit more crazy... It's nearly comical the way you can melt him. Far from his usual type, however you have just what he needs.
"Yeah, fine. Whatever, fuck you— fine." He struggles with his thoughts and words, wanting you so bad that he nearly stutters words of hatred. It's hilarious.
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Eyes of hunger, he finally submits to you. Rafe sits at the edge of your bed, tossing you into his lap as if you were weightless.
He wants you to feel his heated gaze as he does what you ask him to do. He begins to beg for you.
"Y/n, please let me eat your pussy and fuck you until your flesh is raw and you finally shut the fuck up." His erection prodding against you out of his tight khakis nearly takes your breath away.
"Nicer." You whisper quietly.
....
His voice shudders. "Please baby.." Rafe is finally the begging puppy that he deserves to be brought down to. "Let me fuck you so good."
A smirk creeps across your face. "Baby?" You coo. "You must really want it, seeing that you've already gone to pet names."
"Shut up."His kiss takes your breath away, thirsty for your essence, Rafe chokes you with his tongue.
He strips you out of your clothes, letting your T-shirt and panties hit the floor as he stands over your completely bare body.
The way he watches makes you redden with shame. You're nude and he's fully dressed as you become more vulnerable by the second.
"At least undress Rafe!" You frown as you go to stand.
Your breath is sharply taken from you as he pushes you roughly back onto the bed. "Shut up, let me look at you." He demands.
Your goosebumps are back and at full force.
"Oh god.." You become embarrassed as the glistening waterfall between your legs begins to reveal your arousal. Tightening your knees together was a bad move... All Rafe does is pry them apart to watch the slickness even closer.
Enticed and licking his lips, his shirt finally comes off. He enjoys watching the gripped indents around your thighs, so soft and malleable like two pillows as he pulls you further down to the edge of the bed.
Rafe doesn't hesitate any longer. His mouth begins to swallow you up causing you to gasp from how sensitive you are down there.
Your back begins to arch as he devours your pussy and the flicking of his tongue on your clit makes you squeal uncomfortably.
You can't take it.
Your hand presses against his head, fingers through his buzzcut as you shove him away.
Rafe growls. Eyes of pure evil watch up at you as he pins your wrists to the bed. He doesn't stop.Slurping, nibbling, and tongue fucking you as he wants badly to see you cry from his pleasurable torture.
Adding his long digits into your tight cunt, Rafe curls a singular finger at your g-spot.
"Fuck! Rafe please—" Your begging is pathetic.
"Shhh." He coos gently. "You can take it, I need to work you open for me a bit."
You hate how at times he can be almost gentle and romantic... It gets to be so confusing, and in this case, it doesn't help the orgasm tightening in the midst of your stomach.
His indecent finger-fucking has your brain a puddle of dumb mush, not being able to take the precious tongue flicks and kisses on your clit along with the rough thrusts inside of you A second long and strong finger takes you to the moon. Pussy too full of his tanned digits and melting down his wrists, you sinfully cum and lay tiredly into the mattress.
He comes up for air, panting lightly as the alluring muscles in his chest writhes with each breath.
His smile melts you, wet and devious as he presses his lips to yours. "Taste that?" He taunts breathlessly, "Pussy too good for someone so fucking annoying."
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Stripping out of his pants, you watch Rafe's weighty erection near his bellybutton as it stands at attention.
He strokes himself softly, making his skin slick with the drop of wet precum that's already beaded out of his needy tip. "Turn around."
He tosses you onto your stomach without much of a warning. You still can hardly think for yourself since your last cum, so Rafe does the thinking for you.
Putting you onto your knees, he arches your back and smooths his fingers through your curls as he presses your face into the mattress for the coming back-shots.
Sliding through your slickness a few times, he lubes himself enough to fuck into you. The tip of his cock plunges through your already sensitive cunt, forcing you to take a gasp of air as you fist the sheets under you.
You hear a gulp that chokes his throat as Rafe continues to push his cock forward. "Fuck, you feel so good baby."
Clinching your eyes shut, you feel his swollen bulbous tip kiss at your cervix. It makes your body shudder. He's so far deep in you, you almost feel sick.
His balls slap against your cunt as he bottoms out into you. Your pussy feels so tight around him that you're sure you can feel his every vein probing out of his hardened flesh.
Rafe follows his own speed, paying most of his attention towards his needy want to reach his own finish. Fucking power drives into you because he knows that you can take it.
His groans are music to your ears, but you can hardly hear them over your own weeping and curses.
"Stay just like that, y/n." He nearly pleads. "You're so tight for me baby, whose pussy is this?"
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Although clearly fucked to a pulp and pussy clearly belonging to him, you'd rather die than to let him know it. Eyes half-lidded and drooling onto your sheets, you refuse to let him have it.
"Mine." You pant.
Rafe laughs, plummeting his broad thumb into your tight asshole. "You're so fucking hardheaded, that's okay, you'll learn."
"Rafe! St-Stop!" Your fist tighten the sheets further until your knuckles turn white.
"Next time it'll be my cock.." He threatens you to behave as he forces his thumb in deeper and suddenly snatches it out. "Keep playing with me."
Your body lewdy continues to slap against his. Rafe is so obsessed with it, loving your extremely thick figure and knowing just how to handle it.
He slaps your ass. "Fuck me back."
You do. You throw your ass back in away that has Rafe biting at his lip, trying to hold back from cumming his load too soon.
His strong fingertips seep into the plushed flesh of your waist as he hammers his last strokes into you. Chain dangling against your skin with each thrust.
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He groans, deeply growling out his words as he tries to help his own anticipation. "The other day when you babysat for our neighbors, I watched you bounce that baby on your hip and all I could think of was breeding you. Wanting so badly to take the pills from you and pump you with my seed."
"M-fuckkk." You mewl, pussy numb, obliterated, and needing a break.
Rafe chuckles. "The family knows how reckless I am, but what will Mommy and Daddy think of their precious-America's Sweetheart daughter when they find out she's a slut who fucks her stepbrother? A dumb slut who loves her stepbrother's cum so much that she let him fill her until she grew his baby?"
He snatches a handful of your hair, making you yelp and drop tears as he continues to tear you apart. "You deserve the hate that I get it..." His jealousy has his jaws tightened, and gritting his words. "They should know you aren't as innocent as you act."
Rafe harshly slaps your ass, you can feel the handprint swelling into a stinging welt on your flesh.
You can't help but to moan. The sex is so good but the embarrassment of loving it causes you to cry.
"Fuck you." You manage to speak through your wet lips and trembling breaths..
"Anytime you want, sis." His laugh is pure mockery.
"Fuck."Rafe fawns over your body, his hand reaches beneath you, cupping your large breasts and slowly choking your air away.
With a grip on your chin he forces your head around to watch his final act.
Deviously impaling your insides as he sputters his hot cum inside of you. "You're so pretty with a cock in you.Stop acting like we're going to stop, you know that we never will."
"Mmm."His muscles tighten as his many inches still inside of you, jolting as he spills his milky seed. "Tell me how much you love to be fucked by me..."
You feel shame as the hot nut causes you a second climax. Biting the sheets, you can't answer anything as your eyes cross and roll to the back of your skull.
"I swear to god, y/n, answer me." Rafe impales you further making your tummy ache and your cunt nearly tear against him.
"I love it." You weep a final act of submission. "I love to be fucked by you Rafe, my god, just don't go any harder."
Spreading your cheeks apart, he grins at the masterpiece of mess he's made on your swollen flesh. "I won't baby, you did good."
Melting into the mattress, you flatten out of your arched back.
Rafe checks his watch... he's extremely late to meeting up with his drug dealer.
He redresses, grinning as he watches you ache from his ruthless fucking.
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"Ice it." He cruelly demands. "I'll be back again when the house falls asleep."
You roll your eyes, reaching for your clean beach towel to wipe his cum from dripping down your thighs.
A phone begins to ring as you redress. You think that it's probably Barry calling Rafe's phone to see where he's been so held up at...
But it's not Rafe's phone, it's yours.
Rafe immediately beats you to the ringing iPhone. "Ohhhh?" He taunts. "An unsaved number? What are you being sneaky about?"
You snatch for your phone, angry that he keeps it high out of your reach. As he answers he tightly wraps his arm around your waist to keep you from fighting it.
Rafe answers your phone quietly, waiting for the caller to speak first.
"Hello?" The voice asks. "Y/n? Where are you? I thought you wanted me to come meet you halfway? Anyways, you know where we are! Bonfire at John B's baby! I already got the beer."
...
Rafe's blood boils.
Hearing a Pogue's voice has him heated. But hearing that out of all people, the voice belongs to JJ Maybank? It makes him furious.
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He hangs up. "Getting drunk at John B's house, huh? My sister Sarah has you hanging with those fucking Pogues?"
"Give me my phone back!" You argue. "It isn't like that.."
"So then what is it like?" Rafe frowns. "You're fucking JJ Maybank?"
You scoff. "What is wrong with you? He's the only friend I've made here in Outerbanks. He waits tables with me at the Waterside restaurant."
"Oh does he now?" He taunts.
Rafe begins to laugh sarcastically. He suddenly snatches your arm into both of your views, forcing you to see how your skin is again riddled with goosebumps.
The same goosebumps that you get when indecent thoughts make you horny.
Fuck... He knows you better than you thought.
"Look at you." His jaw tightens. "You might not be fucking him, but you want too."
Your eyes widen and your large guilty irises give you away.
You are smitten with JJ, and you can't help it. He's the opposite of Rafe... He's kind, gentle, and extremely sweet to you.
You love his innocently dimpled smile. He's the largest crush you've had since you were in middle school and watched your first Justin Timberlake video.
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"I guess I have to stop by John B's house tonight, huh? Pay a visit to JJ?" You're able to feel the heat raging off of Rafe's body.
You grab his arms, pleading for him not to make a scene. "No don't! Please, Rafe! What do you want? Aren't I giving you enough?"
"No." Rafe firmly grasps your wrists, flinging them away from touching him. "Block JJ's number, and stop talking to the fucking Pogues."
You agree, nodding as tears swell in your eyes.
"You live in this house, you're a fucking Kook!" His raised voice rains frightening screams upon you. "...Better yet, you're not even a Kook, you're mine.You're Rafe's, and if you continue to be hard headed and act like a fucking child, I'll release hell on Earth... you know that I can, and that I fucking will."
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"Tell me you understand y/n, before I make you hate me even more." His voice lowers into a final threat.
You've seen him get rough with people, better yet, you've seen him already kick JJ's ass once for something that had nothing to do with you... doing it again would only make his day.
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You gulp. "I get it Rafe, I understand."
...
Silence fills the room as he continues to gawk deviously over what is his, you.
Rafe wipes a fallen tear from your face. "Kiss me."
He tilts your chin to reach his lips and places the most tender kiss he has ever given you.
Rafe claims you as his as he grabs a handful of your ass, prying your sweetly soft lips apart as his tongue locks with yours. Rafe Cameron's tongue kiss is the only thing that has ever made your knees weak. Sadly, you can't decide if you still hate him or if his need to be possessive over you is actually causing you to love him.
194 notes · View notes
Text
Shackled (Chapter 18)
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Dark! Rafe Cameron x Pogue! Reader
Warning: There are some intense, dubiously consenting and nonconsensual sexual themes in this series, MATURE AUDIENCES ONLY. MINORS DNI.
Summary: You hate Outer Banks with a passion and are working hard to get out despite all the obstacles in your way. Rafe himself eventually becomes one of those obstacles after a night of low impulse control. Will you be able to overcome him or with you have no choice but to submit.
Slow Burn
Series Masterlist
Tag list:
@sophiexoxo-lol @magnificantmermaid
You didn't know what game Rafe was playing at, but you knew you wouldn't like it once it was revealed. 
It had been a week and a half since Annie Rose gave you the ok to participate in more 'strenuous' activities, a question she'd answered due to Rafe's inquisition. Yet he continued on with life as if she hadn't said anything. 
At this point, you could care for yourself, Rafe still made sure you took your pills in the morning and provided you with your daily meals, but outside of that, you mostly did everything else yourself. 
Since your last attempt to escape, he always kept you nearby. He didn't trust you on your own, so he dragged you along with him whenever he had to go somewhere. Whether it be to client meetings or a run to the store. 
Wheezie once commented on his strange obsession with having you around all the time and simply shrugged his shoulders. She really didn't understand how close she was to the truth. 
Despite the lack of sex, he still made sure to express his affections toward you through touches and kisses, and you would occasionally lean in towards him. It would take you a moment to snap out of the trance, but by then, he'd already notice and have a smirk of triumph adorning his face. 
You could feel yourself giving in to him. The longer you stayed with Rafe, the more you wanted to be around him. You were finding comfort in his touch, smell, and kisses. How you loved his kisses, and how he loved giving them away to you. You were desperate now, fighting the desire to surrender to Rafe and his whims. You honestly didn't understand it. 
Part of you was glad he hadn't taken you because at least you had that going for you, but the other part was impatient, frustrated that he hadn't made do with his promise to fuck you. 
You were in his bed, trying to read some random book you found in Ward's library, when Rafe stepped out of the shower. He hadn't bothered covering himself up as he dried his body. You watched as his manhood swung side to side with every movement before he found a pair of shorts and pulled them up. 
"Did you enjoy the show?" you looked up to find his deep blues staring back at you, a fierce intensity crackling deep within them.
"What?" you responded, pretending not to understand what he meant.
"You know what," he chuckles, closing out the bedroom lights before climbing onto the bed towards you. Using the moon's luster to help him see.
He grabs the book in your hand and places it on the nightstand before kissing you. Deepening it as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you toward the middle of the bed on top of him. You always show a bit of resistance at first before giving in. Lately, it has become less challenging to submit. 
You engaged in more heavy petting before he pulled away and wrapped you both in his comforter.
"Goodnight," he says, kissing the top of your head and laying to rest.
***
You didn't know how or why you did it, but you did.
You were walking toward the Outer Banks bridge that separated Figure 8 from the cut. You didn't know where you were going, but you let your legs lead. 
While trekking, you heard a vehicle approach and slow down behind you. Pausing, you take a breath preparing to face Rafe's wrath, but to your surprise, it was Ether. 
"Hey, hun, do you need a ride?"
Stunned at how things turned out, you immediately climbed into the car before she started driving away. 
"How are you feeling? She asked. 
"Better than before," you shrugged. 
She nods 
"I visited you at the hospital a couple of times, you know." her voice cracks, "I felt so terrible,"
"Why?" you asked. "You didn't do anything wrong."
"I left you there with that man. I didn't even stay to make sure everything was safe,"
"You had no way of knowing. No one expects a father to do what he did to me." you glance over to catch her sniffle. "You didn't do anything wrong," you reassured her. 
She nodded, trying to accept your consolation, but you could tell she was having difficulty through the cloudiness in her eyes. 
"I heard you're staying with the Camerons now?" 
As butterflies explode through your chest, you feel a drop in your stomach. You nod, confirming her assumption. 
"Where are you headed?" she says, a valid question since we were getting close to the bridge. 
"The County detention center," you respond. It just came out with no thoughts or reason. 
"Isn't that where HE is?" she asks. 
"Yea, I have a few questions for him." 
She nods. "Does. Rafe know?" she asks. 
This has your attention. 
"Why would Rafe need to know?" you ask. 
Did she think you needed Rafe's permission to do things independently? If she did, you were insulted. 
"I just thought, with yall dating and all, he wouldn't want his girlfriend walking to the detention center, especially after her accident. 
"He'll be fine," you say, turning your head back to the road. 
The drive feels long and quiet. 
Ether offers you a ride back when you get to the Center, but you shoo her away. You might even return to the Cameron Mansion. You needed to figure out what you were planning to do afterward. 
Going inside, you put in your request to see your father. They required some ID, and seeing as you didn't have any on you, you managed to convince the lady behind the counter to let you see him anyway, saying it would be the only time you would come to visit. 
Outer banks were a small world, so she already knew who you were without needing ID. She probably thought you were saying goodbye, and she might be right. 
***
He looked terrible, eyes bloodshot, bruised face, and hair disheveled, like the devil ran him through a dryer. 
"Hi," you say. 
"What do you want?" he asked as if somehow you were a nuisance. 
"I want to know why you did it?" you asked.
"Did what?" he responds.
"Everything," 
You knew what he was trying to do but were long past humoring any of his antics.
"Your mother tried to leave me,"
"So you killed her?" you asked. "Wow, way to keep her around." 
"I didn't want to kill her, I just needed her to be quiet, and next thing I know, she stopped moving."
Tammy wasn't a good mother; you weren't very close, and she was too preoccupied with her narcissistic-driven missions to love you as a daughter. But that didn't stop your heart from breaking for her. 
"And what about me?" 
He sighs. "I had no intention of laying a finger on you," 
You squint your eyes at him, and he could tell you didn't believe him. 
"I'm serious. Ward and Rafe came over that morning and said they wanted to hang out, so we went down to the bar and had a time," he starts your breath, leaving your body at the mention of the father-son duo. 
"They had mentioned something about always wanting to have my company but never having the time to do so." he nods. "Even saying how they never would since you were leaving," 
The pieces were slowly coming together. 
"We talked a bit and snorted a few lines before going our separate ways." he put his elbows on the table before him, covering his face in shame. "I remember sitting there just stewing at the thought of you just up and leaving me." for the first time since you'd gotten there, he found the courage to look you in the eye. "Were you really gonna leave me without saying anything?"
"Yes," you answered. There was no need to sugarcoat anything with him. 
He nods as if he understands where you are coming from. "As soon as you walked through that door, that was it. It was like my body moved on its own."
Rafe and Ward had instigated the attack, but why would they go so far. 
You got up to leave, but your father grabbed your arm. 
"No touching," a security guard yelled, and he immediately let go. 
"I love you, and I am so sorry,"
You purse your lips, contemplating what to say next. "I'm sorry too," walking away and leaving him to deal with his own mess. 
"You couldn't say you felt terrible, but you didn't feel good either. It's like you were on an island of indifference, and frankly, it scared you. 
When you stepped outside, you saw Rafe leaning against his truck, arms crossed and a tense look on his face. 
When you saw Ether get on her phone during one of the stoplights, the thought of her messaging Rafe about you had crossed your mind, but you thought nothing of it.
You walk over to him and place your forehead on his chest. You could tell he was shocked by how staggered his movements were when he wrapped his arms around you. 
"He told me what you and Ward did." 
There's a long pause as he chooses his following words carefully.
"I didn't know he would hurt you the way you did, otherwise-"
"Otherwise, what?" you look up from his chest, annoyed by his words. "You would have done it yourself?" 
"I would never-" 
"BUT YOU DID!" You screamed. You take a deep breath to calm yourself. "If you hadn't met with him that day, I would have never gotten hurt. Don't you feel bad at all?"
"I'm sorry you had to get hurt, but I have no regrets because now you're here with me."
You sigh, moving away from him to climb into the truck. 
He climbs into the driver's side once he confirms you're strapped in and drives off, heading towards your own prison. 
***
That night as you're lying in his arms,  you stay awake thinking about your situation and the information you'd learned. 
You suddenly felt Rafe's fingers tracing patterns along your back, thinking nothing of it until you feel him push them under your top. 
You look up to find him staring at you, a cloudiness stuck to his eyes. 
Using his other hand, he grabs your chin and pulls you into a kiss. You expected another makeout session for the night as he pushed his tongue into your mouth, moving you onto your back before placing himself on top of you. You weren't surprised because he'd usually have several throughout the night. His hands were everywhere as he groped and fondled you, moving your clothes around so he could have better access.
Realization settled in as he pushed into you, no warning. Air pushed out of your lungs, making breathing difficult, but he kept his lips glued to yours. 
He gave you a moment, letting you get used to the stretch, but his hands still moved around, trying to touch every inch of you. 
It wasn't long before he started rocking his body back and forth, forming a rhythm of lust as he concentrated on the ensuing pleasure. Your nipples perk as he rubs his chest against them while he wraps his arms around you and holds you tight against him. 
You could fight back, but you were just too tired,
It was so much easier to just give in.
96 notes · View notes
d0llfaac3 · 5 months
Note
can u do an imagine where rafe and y/n have just started fucking and it’s been like 2 weeks in and they’ve only done backshots/doggystyle and y/n thinks it’s because he doesn’t want to see her face but he reassures her n stuff
Will do 🫡🫡
warning: MDNI 18+
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You and Rafe just the most romantic sex you think you’ve ever had, well..he was the only man you had ever been with after all..
His big hands groping your chest as he slides in and out of your pussy, the sounds that fall from your mouth only make him go faster.
One thing that you thought was a little weird was he ONLY took you from the back..it made you kind of insecure did he not want to see your face? Did he think you where ugly?..
“Rafey” You as sweetly one afternoon, his head in his phone as he lay shirtless on the couch.
“Mhm gorgeous?” He says as he sets his phone down and his hands go straight to your waist.
“How come you only take me from the back, do you not like how my face looks?” You ask innocently and he sighs and rubs your shoulders.
“Of course not sweetheart you’re the most beautiful woman ever..come on..lemme show you how much I mean that statement”
He dragged you into the bedroom and just by that, there was a pool in your underwear, waiting for rafes big fingers to be touching it..
“Now lay on your back” Rafe instructs you to do so. You do it.
“Open your legs for me” you do it.
He slid his rock hard cock out of his boxers and slid a condom onto it.
“Now baby, I’m gonna show you just how much I love that face of yours..”
****
Sorry this took ages I had completely forgot abt it and I’m so sorry if this is bad I’m half asleep it’s 6:51 am!!
2K notes · View notes
perlelune · 5 months
Text
Dollhouse | Rafe Cameron | i.
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The moment your mother marries Ward Cameron should have been the moment your life changes for the better. A fresh start out of the Cut for the both of you. And for the first seven years of living with the Camerons, everything truly is perfect.
Warnings: DUB-CON, NON-CON, Pogue!Reader, Stepcest, Secret Relationship, Manipulation, Jealousy, Drugs, Drinking
This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.
𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙
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You peek from your hiding spot, beneath the lavishly decorated long table. Mom looks pretty. She’s wearing a fancy white dress that likely costs ten times the rent you used to pay. Perhaps more. The diamond earrings she dons, a wedding gift from your new dad, (Your new dad, your mind still cannot grapple with that reality-altering piece of information. You have a dad now, a stepfather), glimmer as they catch the glow of the fairy lights overhead. 
She’s laughing. So loudly you can see all her teeth and her eyes are crinkly. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Mom laugh like that. No. You have never seen Mom laugh like that. Not ever. In the eleven years she’s raised you on her own. There have been sad times. Very sad times. Happy times too. 
Still, she’s never looked as happy as she does today. 
Like she’s on Cloud Ten. Not on Cloud Nine. Cloud Ten. Because there has to be a level above that fully captures how overjoyed Mom looks right now.
All because of this man. Your gaze swings to him. He’s wearing a suit, a white wedding suit, because Mom insisted they match and she always despised - despised not hated - bland wedding tuxedos. Bland anything really. So she picked his suit herself. Just like she did everything for the wedding. Her dream wedding. Something she’s constantly reminded you for the past month. 
That this is her moment. Her big moment. One you shouldn’t ruin. 
Which is why you’re hiding here. You can’t ruin anything from underneath a table. A silent observer. Quiet as a mouse. 
That way Mom can have her moment while you bask in the shock that she’s a Cameron now. And so are you. 
“Hey. Why are you hiding at your own mom’s wedding?”
You gasp, startled by the voice beside you. Your head turns. A blond-haired boy is crouched next to you, his neck crooked from having to fit his tall frame in the small space. His blue eyes are wide and curious as they rest on you.
“I-I’m not hiding,” you stammer, shocked that someone found your secret spot. Everyone’s focus is glued to the new Mr. And Mrs. Cameron. Even your new stepsisters are cheering from the circle around them. Sarah’s the loudest. Her thunderous clap and megawatt smile is a cheering squad all on its own. 
This is their day.
So you figured your existence must have been forgotten by now. You tossed flower petals across the aisle, just like Mom asked. You smiled for the family pictures. You hugged him, that man, your new dad.
You awkwardly greeted your new siblings. Well, mostly waved from a safe distance.
You assumed your disappearance would go unnoticed amidst the bubble of joy keeping everyone trapped in its spell. But someone slipped away from it for a little while, it seems, broke the spell. Long enough to notice your absence. 
He nods and says, “Really? Come out then, since you’re not hiding.” When you dig your pink ballet flats into the grassy dirt, refusing to move, the teenager chuckles.
He plops onto the floor. 
“Or we can stay here.”
Your brows knit. We. It sounds strange. Alien to your ears. It’s always been you and Mom. The two of you against the world, jumping over every hurdle life stuck in your path together. There’s just so many kids now. And based on Mom’s recent announcement…there’ll be another one soon. The final knot binding your two families.
Thinking about it makes your mind spin. Overnight you went from being an only child to having three siblings. Well, four in some months. 
Saying your world has been turned upside down is an understatement. Everything that used to be up is now down. And the house! Tannyhill is nothing like the tiny apartment you and Mom used to share. The one where the lights used to go out sometimes. It has all these big rooms. A gigantic yard. A pool. 
JJ even made fun of you at school because he said you’re a Kook now. 
A Kook. You wanted to punch him…and you did.
You will never be a Kook. It doesn’t matter if Mom makes you change schools, forcing you to attend the one on Figure 8, if she buys you new clothes, moves you to a new house.
You’ll always be a Pogue. A fact the kids at your new school make sure you never forget. 
You tuck your knees against your chest.
“You don’t have to.”
“I do what I want,” he replies with a shrug.
He brings out a piece of cake from behind him. 
“Do you want some?”
You make a face. 
“Not hungry.”
He laughs and takes a spoonful of the three layered chocolate cake himself. 
“What kind of kid refuses cake?” 
“Why are you here?” you retaliate, growing more annoyed. 
“Because you’re my new sister,” he states with a shrug. Your eyes round. “That’s what my dad says anyways.” He sighs. “Gotta look out for you and all that.”
“I don’t need it.”
“Well, little sisters are a pain in the ass. Didn’t ask for another one.” His brows furrow. “Didn’t ask for a new stepmom either but…here we are, princess.”
“Princess?”
“It’s what you look like, with your pink ribbons and all the bows,” he says, waving his hand in front of you. 
You open your mouth then close it. Mom did go overboard with the pink and the bows. But she wanted you to look cute in the photos. She wanted all the girls to look cute. Adorable, as she said. So you and your stepsisters ended up with those big, embarrassing, fluffy pink dresses. 
“Anyways. I’m your brother now. Deal with it, okay?” He scratches the back of his neck, placing the cake on the ground. “Pretty sure if I let anything bad happen to you my dad will kill me.”
You look ahead. Mom’s dancing with the girls now. She pauses momentarily, glancing around, but quickly returns to the dance. She, Wheezie and Sarah bounce in a circle, giggling as they tap their feet to the music. 
Your eyes swell with tears. 
This is how long it took Mom to replace you. A few seconds.
Rafe’s voice laces with irritation. 
“Are you crying?” His harsh tone only drags more sobs out of you. You grip the hem of your fluffy dress to wipe the snot pouring from your nose. 
The boy rolls his eyes. 
“Girls are so annoying, always crying for no reason.” He plucks a tissue from the back pocket of his dress pants and dabs it against your eyes. He does it rather aggressively which startles you out of your meltdown. “Here, stop.” You blink at him. “I’m sorry, okay?” His blue eyes soften. “I promise, we’re not so bad.” He scrunches his nose. “Well, except for Sarah who’s a spoiled brat…but you get used to it too.”
You sniffle and duck your head. Almost as if reading your mind, he assures softly, “Your mom will always be your mom, so stop crying, okay?”
You raise your head, gaping at him. 
“T-Thank you, Rafe,” you mumble between your abating sobs.
He shrugs. “Whatever.”
As he continues wiping your face, your tears slowly drying, you start pondering. Perhaps having a big brother won’t be so bad.
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Cheers and applause explode around you as you blow the last of the sparkler candles. It took several tries before all the flames flickered out, plunging the room in total blackness. Your sisters giggle beside you and a contagious smile creeps onto your lips.
“Make a wish, make a wish!” your family chants around you.
You shush everyone which draws more laughs, especially from Mom and Dad. “Guys, quiet. I need to focus.”
You suck in a deep breath. 
You close your eyes and make a silent wish. Your smile broadens. It’s easy. You wish for everyday moving forward to be as perfect as this one, as wonderful. A happiness untouched and crystallized like a butterfly in amber. Its paper-thin, delicate wings never shriveling. Its vibrant colors never dimming. Its beauty never waning, never yielding to the fickle whims of time. Every year onwards, you wish to be surrounded by the same love and support you’ve gotten to experience for the last eighteen years. 
You wish to always be with family. 
When your eyes open, you beam brightly. The fact that familiar faces stare back at you fills you with warmth and comfort. Sarah, your sister, offered to throw the flashiest, biggest party of the year for your birthday. She even made a vision board for it. It was quite impressive actually. She planned on making sure her little sister celebrated eighteen years on this earth with a bang. But you staunchly refused. Not only did you hope to avoid more organizing drama between Sarah and Kie, you wanted something discreet and casual this year. You had no desire to be surrounded by vague acquaintances from the Island Club or the snobbish classmates who only stopped calling you names once they realized Mom was more than Dad’s mid-life crisis. 
Despite the twenty-year age gap between them, you’ve never witnessed two people more in sync than your mom and dad. You know every woman on that side of the island has wished for their marriage to fail. You wouldn’t flinch if you learnt there was a voodoo doll of your mom in one of those women’s closets. People figured they wouldn’t last. After all, they are so different. Mom used to be a cocktail waitress at the country club Dad is still a faithful member of to this day. His wife Rose had recently died and they bonded over fishing and sports. In many Kooks’ eyes, Mom will always be beneath them. You can see it in their eyes. Their pinched smiles. Their forced pleasantries. A veil of unbelonging will always cling to you and your mother. Deep down, despite living in this big beautiful house for seven years, you’ll always be Pogues. Not that you’ll ever tell Mom. She lives in a pink-colored bubble of her own making. One you wouldn’t dare pop lest she land in a cold puddle of harsh reality.
Still, you’re happy for your parents. 
Even after all these years, they love each other deeply. They still find ways to surprise each other, to make the other feel special.
Alice and Ward Cameron are what true love looks like in your eyes. What it should look like. Unless you have what your parents have one day, you don’t see yourself tying the knot with anyone. Your dad set that standard by being the best man you’ve ever met. 
Willa bounces in front of you, displaying her gummy grin. She recently turned seven and her front teeth have yet to come out. It never stops her from smiling all day however. 
“What did you wish for?” 
You don a cryptic expression.
“It’s a secret.”
Willa pouts, folding her arms dejectedly. Dad chuckles and picks her up. He rubs her back to comfort her, explaining, “She can’t tell you her wish, sweetheart. Otherwise it won’t come true.”
Your little sister gives a reluctant nod. Willa abhors the word ‘no’. Setting limits for her is a problem as she’s so accustomed to Dad surrendering to her every whim. Ward Cameron is what some would call a ‘girl dad’ through and through. It never takes much effort from you and your sisters to convince him and whoever would dare hurt any of you should probably count their days…as your dad would likely have already picked a date and funeral plot for them.
The time for the gifts comes. You sit in a chair at the head of the dinner table as everyone gathers around you to give you their gift. 
Sarah got you a coupon for a tattoo. While Dad is livid, she winks at you. The two of you mentioned getting matching tattoos before you leave for college. You’re glad to learn that she hasn’t forgotten.
Wheezie hands you a Sephora gift card. She’s very solemn, adjusting her glasses while giving it to you, which tears a chuckle from you.
“You just always say you don’t want anything, then everyone gets you a super cool gift,” she laments. Mom squeezes her shoulder. 
“It’s an amazing gift. I love it, Wheezie.”
Her face lights up at your response.
Willa’s gift draws the biggest smile from you. It’s a handcrafted wooden box covered in seashells, glitter and sand. It has a silver lock with a little key. It’s just so cute and you already picture yourself placing it above your bed or somewhere on your desk in your college dorm. It’ll be a much-welcome reminder of home. 
Mom and Dad’s combined gift sits in a square velvet jewelry box. The breath hovers in your lungs, your fingers shaking with anticipation as you open the box.
Your jaw drops.
A gold necklace with a single diamond charm shaped like a teardrop lies on beige satin. 
Your hand flies to your mouth. This must have cost a pretty penny.
“I don’t know what to say,” you whisper.
“Do you like it, sweetheart?” Dad asks.
“I love it.”
A bright grin unfurls on his face at your swift response. He moves forward, collecting the necklace from the box. 
“Can I…”
“Of course,” you reply, shoving your hair aside so he can place the necklace on you. 
When he’s done, he takes a moment to look at you, his hands clasping your shoulders. “It suits you. Your mom and I picked it out…” His voice falters, unspilled tears filling his blue eyes. 
You wrap your arms around him. He hugs you tightly. 
“Dad, it’s okay,” you say.
He unleashes a watery laugh. “It’s just…you girls are growing up so fast.” He steps back and hastily wipes the tears in his eyes. Dad loathes crying in front of you. Well, showing any sort of emotion really. You don’t remember seeing him shed a tear since the day you called him ‘dad’. It just slipped out of your mouth one time. It just felt natural after a while. 
Ward is the only father you’ve ever known, your mother having divorced your biological father when you were just a few months old. You’ve never met this man, though you’ve heard he has another family on the mainland. You can’t deny you’ve been curious about him at times. But your mother’s lips are sealed when it comes to that man. She rarely talks about that time but you always gathered that his absence in your lives is somewhat of a blessing.
You hug Dad again.
“It’s okay. I promise to visit a lot. For every holiday. And you guys can come see me too.” You try to lighten the mood as you note the sour faces. “It’ll just be four years. Then I can come home and work on getting my real estate license while working with Dad at Cameron development.”
“That’s my girl. Eyes on the prize,” he praises. 
“Always.”
He sweeps an icy glance over Rafe.
“If only a certain someone followed your example.”
Your brother flinches. He’s been a bit more withdrawn than everyone else during the party. Besides singing ‘Happy Birthday’, he hasn’t said a word to you. You surmise he’s not too eager to see you leave either. Out of all your siblings, you are the closest to Rafe. 
While he was standoffish when you first met, he’s warmed up to you considerably over the years. He’s not just your brother. He’s also your confidant. You can count on one hand the things you don’t share with Rafe.
“Come on, dad. That’s not fair,” you say, trying your best to dissipate the tension in the air. “He’s just on his own path.” 
Rafe bolts from his seat, stomping out of the room and heading to the balcony. 
Your shoulders slump.
“Not everyone has to go to college to succeed. You know that. And so does Mom.”
“You’re right.” He heaves out a weary breath. “But I’m not mad that your brother dropped out of college. I’m mad he doesn’t care about anything he can’t shove up his nose or get high with.”
Concern scrunches your mother’s features. 
“Honey,” she says.
“Alice, he’s twenty-two years old. It’s time for him to grow up.”
Bereft of arguments to defend Rafe, and with your dad being stubborn as ever, you elect to join him on the balcony. The cool night breeze seeps through your clothes. Goosebumps break out on your skin as you shiver by Rafe’s side. 
You decide to crack his shell with a lighthearted joke. 
“So I don’t get a gift from my big brother this year?”
A smile breaks out on Rafe’s face. He turns to you.
“But you always say you don’t want anything because you already have everything.”
You give him a harmless punch in the rib. He pretends to be deeply hurt by it and bursts out in laughter.
“I’m kidding,” he admits. “I'll give it to you later this week. It’s something you’ve wanted for a long time, promise. There was just a…temporary shortage.”
You acquiesce. You let a comfortable silence hang between you and him for a while before speaking again.
You take a deep breath. 
“I’m sorry about Mom and Dad,” you blurt out.
Shrugging, he scoffs, “It’s fine. It’s not like Dad will stop riding my ass all the time. At least Alice doesn’t have her foot on my neck 24/7.”
You grip his arm.
“They’re just worried about you. About your future.” Rafe’s jaw clenches, his blue eyes set forward. “You know Dad loves you. He’s just not very good at showing it.” Hope laces your tone. “Maybe try to stop by the office more? I’m sure he’ll appreciate you showing interest in the family business.” You shift closer to him, whispering. “Even Sarah can’t be bothered, just so you know.” This makes his hard gaze fall on you. Talking about Sarah never fails to make Rafe’s blood pressure rise. Even after all that time, the two of them can’t seem to get along. “You’re always talking about being proactive and all that. Then be proactive, Rafe.”
He studies you for a while before a slow smirk unfans on his lips. 
“You know…that is actually not a bad idea, princess.”
“Of course it’s a great idea. I had it,” you jest, drawing a hearty chuckle from him.
The buzzing of your phone shatters the moment. You startle. You hastily grab it from the pocket of your cardigan. 
“Just give me a minute,” you utter apologetically. You step away for a bit. Rafe’s eyes on you are sharp as you check your phone. The message you receive has you fighting a smile. You feel giddy that he remembered your birthday. You don’t even remember telling him it was today. Suppressing the goofy grin threatening to take over the bottom of your face, you return to your spot next to Rafe. 
“Who was that?” he asks.
You lie with ease. While you love Rafe, he can be so overprotective. To a suffocating degree at times. No guy will approach you because the mere knowledge that Rafe Cameron is your brother and will surely dole out a severe beating if any guy so much as stares at his sister too long makes most of them steer clear. Some of your suitors have tried, the brave, reckless ones, but Rafe would scare each of them away. 
There’s been a boy lately. One who eluded your brother’s relentless scrutiny. Familiar, but also kind of new. Rafe would blow a fuse if he knew who it was. He can’t find out. Not yet anyways. 
You slap on a mask of nonchalance. 
“No one.”
He gives a nod, licking his lips. He seems to mull over something before narrowing his eyes in suspicion. 
“Are you hiding something?”
Your stomach knots. You try to keep an even, casual tone. You fail. 
“I-I’m not. Why would you say that, Rafe?”
“I don’t know. You were acting shifty just then.”
“I’m allowed to have some privacy, Rafe. I’m not a kid anymore.”
His jaw ticks. He takes a small step back, as if your words hit him square in the face. 
“But we never had any secrets for each other, haven’t we?”
“Yeah.”
His blue eyes trap yours. 
“So who was it, princess?”
You shudder. Keeping things from him is near impossible. He knows you like a book he’s read every single page from. Again and again. 
This is how you know your subterfuge can't be a complete success. Still, you stick to your story.
“Like I said, Rafe. No one,” you maintain.
He bends over you, seizing your hand and tucking it against his chest. Your heart skips a beat. 
“You know I’m just trying to protect my little sister, right? That’s all I’ve ever tried to do, protect you.”
“I know,” you say, a small smile tugging your lips. 
He rubs his thumb across your palm, squeezing your fingers more tightly than before. You wince at the pressure. It’s on the thin edge of pain.
“So…you’d tell me if there was anything new in your life, anyone?”
Your pulse quickens. The lie aches as it rises from your throat this time. Needles of deceit. You aren’t used to lying to your brother. 
“Of course, Rafe. You’d be the first to know,” you chime, forcing a false, wobbly smile on your face.
He stares at you for so long that it grows unnerving. After an eternity, his grip on your hand slackens. You rub your pulsing fingers, a frown wrinkling your brow. 
He crosses his arms over the railing, eyes fixated on the night as he mumbles under his breath, “Good.”
You don’t know how to answer that, a wave of unease, cooler than the night chill, passing through you somehow. 
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amandabbbbb · 4 months
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summary: maybank!reader who’s a coke addict and lies to rafe about her addiction until he finds out and gets soo mad
tw: drug abuse, cocaine, rafe hits barry, rafes mean to reader
word count: 409
“baby, no, i’m not letting you fucking leave again,” rafe yelled as you yanked yourself out of his tight grip and ran out the door of tannyhill.
“i’ll be back later tonight. you can trust me. i just gotta pick up for my dad.”
you never wanted to lie to rafe or be involved in drugs, but having a father who was addicted to them didn’t help. you started picking up drugs for your father luke when you were 14, but now at 19 your addiction had spiraled into something darker, something you couldn’t control.
pedaling your bike to the other side of the island, you finally arrived at barry’s, your dealer. he always gave you the best drugs and didn’t charge you much in exchange for letting him flirt with you. “that has to be the best coke you’ve ever got, barry. shit,” you exclaimed as you finished the line of coke that he lined up for you. “you know me, sweetheart. i’d never give you bad drugs, would i, beautiful?”
as the drug rushed through your body, you thought to yourself that your boyfriend rafe would never even touch drugs. he was always just trying to please his dad. he would break up with you if he ever found out about your addiction. rafe just thought of you as the prettiest pogue, so innocent, timid, and shy. he always wanted to protect you.
a couple of hours after you left tannyhill, rafe walked in as you took that line with barry, picking up coke for himself and his friends to do at the kook party tonight. he would never let you see him do drugs; he played this character needing you to look up to him and never see him as a bad guy. but when he saw you throw your head back, wiping the white powder off your nose and hearing barry call you beautiful, he filled with rage.
“y/n, what the fuck are you doing?” rafe yelled. you stood up as fast as you could, his voice ringing in your ears. “get in the fuckin car.”
he slammed the car door and drove off at a speed you never felt his truck go before. you were shaking as you noticed blood splattered on his knuckles.
rafe’s lip curled into a sneer, his disbelief evident in the way he looked at you. “you’re pathetic,” he spat out, his words like a knife to your heart. “you’re just like him, aren’t you? your father. a worthless junkie.”
tears streamed down your cheeks as you struggled to process his words, the pain of his words cutting deeper than you thought possible.
“i gave you everything, y/n. i gave you a better life, and this is how you repay me? by throwing it all away for some fuckin drugs?” rafe screamed, his voice cracking.
“i-i’m so sorry rafe, please,” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. “i never wanted to hurt you. i just… i don’t know how to stop.”
your words made him feel guilty. as he looked at your glistening eyes and shaking hands, all he could say was, “just stop. stop doing the drugs, baby,” rafe whispered. he saw his own reflection in your tear-streaked face and realized he didn’t know how to help you, given his own struggles with drugs. all he could mutter out was, “i’m sorry.”
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 1 month
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could you do a pregnant reader x rafe
a/n: okay but that got my brain buzzing, so i simply had to get all the thoughts out in the form of headcannons (written right before i fell asleep, sorry if it shows)
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
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okay, so picture this: he's the asshole frat boy, you're the cute college chick who unlike him is actually there for the education.
also, he's your ex...
you were only together for a few months, but still, that shit was intense, the relationship nearly broke you from all of the high highs and low lows
it was exhausting being in love with an asshole, hence why you're no longer together
he was totally the type of toxic boyfriend to only wanna fuck you without a condom, either by pressuring you or just straight up lying and then rolling the rubber right off either as soon as he got you into doggystyle or like halfway through when you were too cockdrunk to notice the difference.
so that might have been why a month or so after the two of you broke up, you were late...
i'm picturing that you finally took a test at the most chaotic moment: at the beginning of a party in a bathroom, your roommate doing a quick run to a pharmacy while drunk folks try to barge down the door.
when your roomie comes back, you're totally freaking out, full-on melt-down, while she sits on the counter beside the sink and tries to calm you down, thinking up other solutions to your symptoms.
but the damn stick shows you two lines.
you were pregnant.
"so are you gonna tell him?" your roomie asks you, but you're still on a completely different planet, trying to comprehend the result.
"huh?"
"rafe. are you gonna tell him? i mean, i assume that it's him, unless there's somebody else, in which, how dare you not spill."
"what? no, there's no one else. of course it's rafe's..."
"...so? are you gonna tell him?"
but you have no idea if you want to or even should. you don't even have the slightest idea what you might wanna do about it all, if you should keep the baby or not.
but timing really is a funny funny thing, because when you then decide to go home to process everything (because damn, now you can't stay at the party and celebrate the close call), you bump into none other then the man, the myth, the whore himself: rafe fucking cameron.
now, you're straight up crying at this point, just overwhelmed as fuck, so of course he doesn't let you just slip by without figuring out what in the fuck is going on, if there is some douchebag he needs to go beat up.
"there only douchebag you need to beat up is yourself," you spit out before you can stop the phrase.
"oh, come on, baby. you can't still be mad at me? it's been like a month."
"please, rafe... just let me go home..."
"no, not until you tell me what's wrong!"
and when you actually say it out loud, it's like the awful party music fades and the buzzing crowd around you disappears.
"i'm pregnant."
at first, he just stands there stunned, staring straight through you.
if he's holding a glass, then he definitely drops and smashes it on the ground.
but then he grabs your arm and wordlessly drags you with him, all the way up to his room.
that's when, in the dull quiet of his dark dorm room, that it really sinks in.
for a while he just stares at you, letting his eyes scan down your frame, surely imagining what you'd look like in a few months.
and then, out of the blue, he whispers, "marry me..."
"...what?"
"marry me," he utters with more confidence, "i know this isn't exactly how it should go, but babe... i still love you. i never stopped... let me take care of you, let me take care of our baby, let me give you the life we deserve. so what do you say? will you marry me?"
but you just stare back at him as if he's gone mad.
"...no."
your stomach starts to flip as you then see the first signs of rage flare up on his features, "what do you mean no?"
"rafe, i'm supposed to be finishing up my degree, being young and dumb, not getting knocked up by the last man i'd ever want to be forever stuck with."
of course he then totally pops off, pushes you into a corner, yelling, screaming, all the nine yards
saying all this stuff about how you should be grateful that he ever gave you his time of day in the first place, nevertheless get you pregnant with his kid.
sooo, me thinks the next steps in their story gets pretty dark, pretty fast....
we talking him taking you with him home to tannyhill because school is simply too stressful for you and the baby (in his opinion)
mayhaps he straight up locks you in a room and acts all nice, pretends that nothing is wrong with the way he handles it all
forced marriage? yes? no? yes.
him getting fucking FERAL when you start to show?
also him getting feral long before that, taking the chance to make sure you're really, totally, 100% pregnant, if you know what i mean (in other words: all of the creampies ever, just over and over again, fucking load after load deep inside of you + so so much cumplay)
and the ending? i imagine that one day, after your kid is born, you run away, baby in your arms and not much else.
you try and create a quiet little life for you and your child somewhere far away
but eventually (of course, just for the sake of ✨drama✨) he finds you...
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© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 
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cleoluvrr · 10 months
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don't fall for monsters (rafe cameron x reader)
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it was the ultimate disguise, i really stayed with such a monster
WARNINGS: dark!rafe, mentions of drowning, mentions of past murder, coercion, domestic violence, manipulation, angst
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your eyes burned from the flashing lights of red, white, and blue. neighbors stood on their porches and peeked through the blinds to watch the commotion, nothing better to do than involve themselves in small town drama. you could feel every pair of eyes stuck on your shivering frame; wet hair and tearstained face a sight to see. 
the towel wrapped around your shoulders barely did anything to keep you warm in the cool, fall evening. it was there to keep the water from soaking through your clothes and nothing more. the smell of salt water clung to your hair and the longer you stood there, the more nauseous you felt from the scent.
seeing rafe cameron in the back of a paddy wagon did nothing to soothe your nerves, nor did the distant sound of his father speaking to shoupe just a few yards away. the two men kept sneaking glances at you from afar and made it obvious the topic of the choice happened to be you. rafe, however, never broke his gaze, even when you tore yours away. the fury in his eyes burned through you like a laser and the blowout that would take place at some point or another was inevitable.
you could be sick.
“hey, sweetheart?” a lower-ranked officer approached you cautiously, obviously not wanting to startle you. “do you mind coming with me for a little bit? just need to ask you some questions, is all.” 
the older, blonde female officer came into your view for a moment when you side-eyed her, an unwelcome hand landing on your shoulder. she slowly removed it after feeling your sharp gaze on her. 
“i have nothing to say.” you replied monotonously. your face lacked any emotion and it probably made her feel uncomfortable from the way she swallowed dryly. 
“honey, i know–”
“you don’t know anything, actually.” you cut her off before she could speak any further. “and don’t call me honey.” leaving the cop where she stood, you walked over to the steps of your house and took a seat. she was left standing there like an idiot and you would’ve laughed if you weren’t overcome with the shock of what landed you in this predicament.
rafe tried to drown you.
well, maybe he was just trying to scare you, but there was no arguing against the fact he held you head beneath the water and made sure you couldn’t breathe.
your boyfriend had been lashing out for weeks, taking all his anger and frustration out on you. the only reason you invited him over was to talk about things because you simply couldn’t take it anymore. sure, you two have had rough patches before–but this situation had gotten completely out of hand. you loved him too much to end it, though, so you thought this was the best option.
you expected to get to the bottom of things, not for rafe to confess to you a great sin. 
he told you about what happened on the tarmac, how he murdered sheriff peterkin. the weight was dragging him down and he couldn’t keep it a secret anymore–he had to tell someone. you understood, in a weird way. that wouldn’t be something you could carry around either.
you just wished that someone wasn’t you.
how could you walk around knowing the man you love is a killer? he’s the reason his sister is lost at sea, why the entire town was chasing after an innocent kid and not him. it was a mystery to you why he thought you’d take this information well, but the way he reacted when you said you were going to the cops shouldn’t have surprised you.
the moment rafe dragged you out of the back door to the water behind your house, you were sure you’d suffer the same fate as peterkin. when he threw you to your knees and dug his nails into your scalp, roots burning as he fisted the hair with all his strength. you begged him to stop, told him you loved him–anything that would snap him out of it. at some point you screamed for help, and someone had to have heard you from how loud you were. they had to have heard you because one minute you had a nose full of water, and the next you were coughing your guts out in the grass while two neighbors knocked rafe off of you and held him down.
they were the ones that called the cops, not you. your own phone was sitting upstairs in your room, shattered and unusable after being thrown against the wall by rafe.
so here you sat, a bunch of strangers watching your house as the kook king argues with the sheriff about what to do with his son. ward didn’t particularly like rafe very much, but he’d be damned if he let him go to jail over this. you knew this for a fact.
ward would burn every bridge in the country to make sure his family remained at the top. he was willing to let a teenage boy die before letting rafe take the fall for a murder he committed. ward cameron had the money and influence that most people could only dream of, and he knew how to use it to his advantage. if it meant throwing you to the wolves to save his son, he’d cover you in rabbit’s blood and send you to their den on a platter.
“y/n?” 
the sound of your name pulled you out of your dazed state, the familiar voice coming from directly in front of you. ward cameron watched you with worry from where he stood, not that you really cared. he could pretend he was worried about you all he wanted, you already knew his true colors.
“are you okay, sweetie? can you tell me what happened?” he lowered himself into a squat to meet you at eye level. his brows met in the middle and he had deep stress lines decorating his aged face. “what’s all this about?”
sniffling, you dropped your head between your shoulders for a moment. you shook it from side to side before meeting his gaze again. he looked confused by the dry chuckle that left your mouth, clearly unsure of how to interpret the reaction.
“what’s this all about…” you laughed humorlessly again, face blank and eyes cold. “your son tried to drown me, mr. cameron–i’m sure you’ve heard what this is all about.”
the silence between you and the older man was heavy with tension. he glanced back at shoupe, who was watching the conversation with scrutiny from afar, and rafe in the seat of the police car. his eyes met yours again, this time worried for a different reason.
you already knew what he was going to say. 
“i’m sure it was just a misunderstanding–”
“a misunderstanding?” you repeated in disbelief. “are you serious? look at me!”
his eyes raked over your dampened, disheveled frame. he ran a rough hand through his hair stressfully before speaking.
“look…i know you’re upset right now. i do, really.” ward's tongue pokes out to moisten his slightly chapped lips as a result of the chill wind gently blowing over the area. “but just think about what you’re going to say first.”
“i’m not gonna snitch, if that’s what you’re so concerned about.” you wave him off annoyedly. the cameron patriarch looked at you in shock, like he couldn’t believe the words that just came out of your mouth.
you were pissed. enraged. you couldn’t believe that rafe tried to drown you and it hurt to think about how he was willing to take you out just to keep a secret you never asked him to reveal in the first place. how ward was more concerned about covering his son’s ass than he was about him trying to take your life.
so many thoughts flooded your mind and you wanted nothing more than to take your brain out for a few minutes of peace. 
even with the anger and fear that consumed you, snitching on rafe was out of the question. not only because it would never go anywhere, but because deep down; you knew you could never do that to him. you loved him too much, and that truth sickened you to admit to yourself.
before he could speak again, shoupe approached the two of you faster than you could blink. his shoulders were squared and his hands rested on his belt as if he was ready for defense. the man gave ward a long, heated glare before he stared down at your seated frame with a sympathetic gaze.
“everything alright over here?” he questions, obviously accusing ward of something along the lines of witness intimidation with just four words. 
“everything is fine, shoupe.” ward doesn’t give you the chance to answer, immediately interjecting as your lips parted to speak. the sheriff cuts his eyes at him momentarily before returning to you.
“i was speaking to the young lady, ward.”
you avoided eye contact with both of the men. you were far too occupied with the chipping polish on your fingernails to bother with whatever strange tension they had between them. the feeling of everyone’s eyes on you made your skin prickle up and you wanted nothing more than to take a shower and pretend this night never happened.
“everything’s fine.” you kicked at the rocks beneath your feet, voice soft and disinterested. 
“are you sure?” shoupe did not believe a word coming out of your mouth. you didn’t either, but there was no point in telling him that. “is there a reason i have three witnesses saying they found rafe holding you under the water?”
“nothing happened, officer shoupe. i fell and rafe was helping me–i’m not the best swimmer.” 
ward maintained a tense posture as he stood beside shoupe and you wanted so badly to roll your eyes–or scream. you almost wanted to say something just to see the man go pale in the face, but you resisted. it wasn’t because you were afraid of ward; the man was the least of your worries. the idea of rafe going free even if you came clean made you sick to your stomach. that was enough to shut you up.
the two men that helped you were giving their statements to some random officer, and you prayed for the pair of them. whatever happened to them after the lights went off wasn’t your problem, but rafe would certainly handle them in whatever way he saw fit. the knot on his forehead and the dried-blood leaking from his nose would serve as a reminder to get his revenge.
“that’s not what those young men told me, y/n. they clearly saw him doing something to hurt you.”
“it’s dark, shoupe. they didn’t ‘clearly see’ anything.” your eyes snapped up to meet him. the agitation was starting to eat away at you and you just wanted everyone to get off your yard. “i just told you what happened, so what’s the issue?”
“sweetie, you don’t need to be scared of anything–”
you stood to your full height abruptly, both of the older men stepping back from the sudden movement. rafe’s staring was turning your stomach and shoupe’s accent was becoming headache inducing. 
“he’s my boyfriend, i’m not scared of him.” you cut him off mid-sentence. it was a lie and you both knew it, but his pushing was irritating you more than ward’s looming presence overseeing the interaction. “i fell, and he helped me. those guys misunderstood–what else do you want me to say? that’s all that happened.”
they watched you closely as you wrapped your arms around yourself protectively. it was getting harder to keep it all together and crying in front of the already unconvinced man isn’t going to help your case at all. 
“you guys can go.” you pulled the towel off your shoulders and folded it into a messy rectangle. the wet hair falling down your back made you cringe internally. “i’m sorry y’all came out here for nothing…i’ll try to stay away from the water at night.”
shoupe’s only response was a reluctant nod, eyes glancing over at ward before he stepped away. you watched as he stalked over to the cruiser holding rafe, releasing him after speaking to the officer keeping watch over him. those steely, blue eyes remained on you the entire time they unlocked his cuffs, jaw locked and shoulders tense with anger.
even though you just saved his ass, although it wasn’t your first choice, he was greatly displeased. if ward noticed the way his son looked at you, he didn’t say anything to make it known. the audience that had gathered looked confused at his release, the men that saved you especially so.
with each step rafe took, you could feel your heart skip a beat. dread washed over you. even though there was nothing he could do with the police watching like hawks, you knew something was coming sooner or later. he rubbed at the red marks encircling his wrists from the tight cuffs, but he was totally fixated on you.
it sent a chill down your spine but you couldn’t show that; not in front of all these people.
“baby…” you said cautiously. stopping in front of you, the heat of his body warmed you from a foot away. “are you okay? i didn’t mean for all this to happen.”
you don’t wait for him to respond. rather, you step forward with open arms and wrap them around his lean body, tightly embracing him. you were sure you heard a few gasps in the distance and ward’s breath hitched from his spot a few feet away. 
rafe doesn’t hesitate to return the gesture, arms snug atop your shoulders as he rests his chin on your still damp hair. he rocks you back and forth, the swaying motion hardly soothing when you feel the bile trying to fight its way out of your throat.
“i know, princess, it’s okay.” his voice vibrated against your scalp. “i’m sorry i hurt you...i-i wasn’t thinking.”
you nodded your head, humming in understanding. you didn’t believe it for a second, but you just wanted to pretend nothing ever happened. it was easier to live when you didn’t have to think about the love of you life trying to drown you in your own house
“rafe.” ward interrupted the reunion with a stern voice. you felt his head raise to look at his father but his arms remained tight around you. “we need to go now. give the girl some space tonight.”
rafe nodded at his father; you could tell from the way his chin brushed against your skull. his hand took your head into their hold as he tilted it up to make you look at him directly. though there was a familiar softness to his face, there was something in those pretty, blue eyes that unsettled your mind. he leaned down to place a careful peck upon your lips, so gentle that it felt like a breeze ghosted across the skin.
“i love you.” he whispered against your slightly parted mouth.
“i love you, too.” you responded just as softly.
he nodded his head, lashes brushing against the tops of his cheeks. he adjusts himself to lean in close to your ear, preparing to say something just from you to hear.
“i love you so much,” his breathe hits the shell of your ear in a way that makes you tingle. “but i will kill you if you tell anyone. i don’t wanna have to do that, but i will…so don’t put me in that position, alright baby? don’t get involved.”
you nearly froze, but with everyone watching your every move you had no choice but to react calmly and nod your head.
placing a kiss on your cheek, rafe pulls away completely. you wait for him to turn his back before you briskly walk up the steps to enter your own house. you were met with pin drop silence and dim lights when you opened the door, immediately shutting it behind you as you stepped inside.
you barely got the door locked before you fell to the floor in anguish. silent shakes racked your body as you muffled the audible cries with a hand pressed tight against your lips. the wooden frame of the front door was hard and cold against your back. you lost your breath from the strength of your heart-wrenching sobs. if someone pressed their ear to the door you were sure they’d be able to hear the pain and fear spilling out of you. everyone had invaded your privacy enough tonight to last a lifetime and you couldn’t find it in you to care.
he put his hands on you. the same hands he used to murder peterkin with. the same hands he used to hold you beneath the water while you beggar for your life. he kissed you with the mouth he used to threaten you with. used that mouth to tell he loved you before saying he’d kill you. violated wasn’t strong enough of a word to describe how you felt.
betrayed? disgusted? 
how could he live a life like this? how could he drag you into his mess and then tell you not to get involved? how could he look in the mirror and not feel like an animal? 
then again, you must ask yourself–
how could you let yourself love a monster like rafe cameron?
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