#yandere rafe cameron

[necroflame]

On the Way to a Smile (Dark!Rafe Cameron x F!Reader)

Paring: Dark!Rafe Cameron x F!Reader

Summary: On the cusp of your wedding, you are haunted by a shade from your past who just can't seem to leave you alone.

Warnings: Implied non-con, drugging, loss of virginity, original characters, wedding crashing, possessive behaviour, flashbacks, bullying, substance use, cheating, implied eating + body image issue (18+)

🦇gill – "I made a story board for this on pinterest if anyone is interested, this is my first dark fic + semi smut so any feedback would be very appreciated! I also included some linked visuals but that's only how I imagined things to look, you can follow your own destiny." 🌬 17k (buckle up ya'll)

i.

"What's all this?"  

Strewn across the Cameron's dining table was an array of objects that could only be described as a mixed blessing. Multiple binders containing silk swatches protruding from the edges, sticky notes with potential dietary requirements, and different flora species – planning a wedding was less of a journey and more of a ride. 

Averting your burning eyes from your laptop screen, you acknowledged Rafe with a cordial smile, lazily gesturing to the conglomeration of wedding itinerary. 

"My future." 

The blonde simply hummed, eyes narrowing as he leisurely rounded the dark oak to stand beside you. He silently lingered there for a moment, ring-clad fingers dancing across the drafted invitations with an indecipherable expression. 

"Where's Sarah? Ain't she supposed to be helping you with all this shit?" 

You refrained from rolling your eyes. Rafe was, after all, a friend of the family, and by extension earned your respect. Even If he could be a complete dick–

"I am helping, thank you very much!" 

Sarah's voice, now tinged with irritation, reverberated from the pantry before she emerged with a bag of microwave popcorn. "What do you have to offer other than giving us a headache?" A deep crease settled between her brows as she threw her flaxen locks into a low ponytail, setting the bag into the microwave. 

"Well you see, Sarah, I'm a man with a fine eye for detail." He prodded his haughtily puffed chest which Sarah scoffed at, glancing towards you with disbelief. 

"Says the boy who'd be leaving the house with his shoelaces undone were it not for Wheezie." 

"Now you're just making shit up–"

"Both of you, please!" With an exasperated sigh, you cradled your throbbing temples in the seat of your palms. "If you're going to argue, do it somewhere else."

Ding!

A much-needed reprieve from the stifling tension in the room, the microwave beeped, signalling that the popcorn was ready. However, the pause was short-lived. As soon as the timer stopped, the silence was disrupted by Rafe's voice. His tone mocking and derisive.

"Ordering me around in my own house, hm?" His short, dirty blonde locks cascaded over his eyes as he shook his head, failing to conceal his lour. "Nah, that's not how it works sweetheart. Maybe I'd allow it if you were marrying me."

"Rafe." Sarah hissed. "Shut up and get out."

In the typical fashion of the first-born Cameron, Rafe disregarded his sister's command, instead opting to leer down at you like some voracious beast reading to trap you in its gaping maw. 

"So where's the lucky man? He got to stake his claim, now he's leaving all the work for you?" 

You ignored his taunts, for that was what they were. He fed off reactions like a leech. You had come to realise this over the years as he evolved into an obnoxious variant of the boy you once admired. Rather than giving him the attention he craved so dearly, you turned your focus to Sarah as she came to sit beside you. 

"If you must know, he's working to pay off his student loans," You fought the urge to bite back at his spiteful remarks, ultimately losing when you added; "Maybe one day when you take care of your responsibilities, you will understand."

Sarah suppressed her snot beneath a mouthful of popcorn. As you reached for a handful of your own, a hand slid in between, suddenly pushing the bowl out of reach. 

"Careful." Rafe drawled warningly, pointing to a trumpet silhouette dress advertised in a women's magazine you had circled with a red marker. "That dress is real pretty, it would be a shame if you outgrew it."

ii.

It was winter, 2006. 

You were five, perched on your mother's lap in the front seat of your father's Chrysler 300C as she consoled you through hiccuping sobs. This Christmas, the esteemed Camerons were your family's special holiday destination; a far cry from the usual dinner and movie at your grandparents.

Numerous road signs were posted throughout Figure 8, warning drivers to approach the winding roads with caution due to the unusually high levels of sleet. Despite the treacherous conditions, your father traversed along as he usually would. You whimpered and pawed at your mother's blouse in a bid to be reassured, but she merely shushed you.

"Don't worry, baby. You're safe."

As you pulled up along a circular drive encompassed by large plains of neatly trimmed verdure, a house came into view… if you could even call it that.

 A quadruple frontage acting as a supporting beam for the large balcony above donned with red, white and blue flags and multiple seating arrangements. On the right side of the glass entry doors was a metal plaque spelling 'Tannyhill' 

You beamed up at the place in awe. "Is this a castle?" 

Your father chuckled, ruffling your loose hair. 

"Something like that."

A man emerged from the double doors, dressed in the typical 'low-key' Figure 8 attire: white slacks, a chequered shirt, and leather loafers. He was a splitting image of your father and all the other men on the island, carrying an aura of confidence in every sedate step.

You were urged out of the car with a gentle but firm push. The strange man’s beady eyes— like two pale corks screwed into his head— landed on you disconcertingly, as though you were a microorganism being inspected beneath a scope. 

"Hello, little one." His eyes crinkled as he smiled, bending down to your level. "What's your name?"

Your young mind could not fathom why he frightened you like the animated villain in your favourite TV show. When he extended his hand to you, you instinctively retreated into your mother's skirt.

"Don't mind her, Ward." Your father emerged from the driver’s side of the vehicle. "She'll warm up real fast if you offer her something sweet."

"A sweet tooth?" The man, Ward, mused. His voice mild-mannered and pleasant to the ear. "My son is the same, I'm sure you'll get along just fine."

Inside, the house was even more impressive. Tannyhill had been the proud ancestral home of the Cameron family for generations and their wealth and prestige were evident in the sheer opulence of its interior. The walls of the hallway were draped in thick upholstery, varying in shades of crimson, indigo and gold. An ornate floral pattern embroidered in gold thread was meticulously sewn onto the walls. 

Adorning the hallway to the kitchen were multiple picture frames. One in particular caught your interest; a young boy sat on Ward's lap in a velvet-lined chair, smiling and well-groomed with golden locks and a well-pressed collar. 

You wondered if this was the aforementioned son.

Ward's explanation of the Plantation's historical significance fell on deaf ears as you gaped up at the towering ceilings. Your mother attempted to conceptualise it for you through the metaphor of an onion; Tannyhill was composed of multiple layers of history, each integrating to create the rich heritage value of the place. 

"You came here once when you were just a little bean in my belly."

"I don't remember that."

She pulled you into her side by the shoulder as she laughed. "Of course you don't, darling." 

Ward came to a halt at the staircase, raising a finger to his lips.

"Sarah's nursery is upstairs. We just got her down before you arrived but I'll let you have a peek."

 "Oh, that’s alright, Ward. We wouldn't want to disturb her." Your father interjected, mirroring Ward’s hushed tone.

"That won't be an issue, my angel is a heavy sleeper," he whispered, motioning for you to follow him with a reassuring wave of his hand.

“Rafe's up there at the moment,” Confusion enveloped you as a frown settled in place of his previous jovial demeanour. When his stiffened gaze met yours, heat bloomed beneath your cheeks and you perked up. “Maybe you can keep him company, little one." 

The first door on the right was painted a light, dusty rose. Above the door frame were little wooden letters decorated by fairies and flowers spelling out ‘Sarah’. The dry hinges screeched as Ward opened the door.

“Rafe, come meet our guests.” 

The boy from the picture emerged, older now and taller than expected. Unlike the bright smile he wore in the photograph, there was not a trace of joy on his face. But despite his gloomy demeanour, there was a certain charm about him that you couldn't help but notice.

Beautiful, he’s beautiful. 

“Hello.” He said robotically, as though the syllables were being tugged out of his mouth by an invisible wire. 

Ward glared disapprovingly at his son. There was a silent exchange between the two before Rafe finally sighed as if submitting to some sort of inevitable conclusion.

“Merry Christmas, it’s nice to meet you all.” 

His eyes met yours. Crystal orbs of cerulean, framed by a dark outer ring… you were transfixed by his beauty. 

You sat mutely at dinner, only answering direct questions with the bare minimum of words. Mrs Cameron was a lovely and welcoming woman who did her best to include you in the conversation despite your reluctance to participate. Rafe's occasional snarky remarks seemed to anger Ward. His face would darken each time and he would glare in his son's direction with a look of disapproval. The tension between the two was thick, oozing onto you from across the table. You made eye contact with Rafe a few times. He held it with no indication of discomfort whilst you were always the one to eventually flit your attention elsewhere, unable to withstand the strange intensity. 

As the maids began to clear the table, Ward suggested to both you and Rafe, “Go and play while us adults have our talk.”

With the sun making a hasty departure below the treeline in the distance, It had cooled off exponentially outside. You trailed behind Rafe as he led you to a small shed next to the pool, struggling to tug your gloves over trembling fingers. 

You waited outside as Rafe disappeared beyond the frame, returning a few moments later with a black and white ball.

“Do you know how to play?”

The ball was familiar but you shook your head, unsure of the rules. 

“Don’t touch the ball with your hands or make contact with me.” 

“Make contact?” You tilted your head in confusion. 

“You can’t kick your enemy on purpose, got it?”

You gave a nod– still unsure about why you’d want to kick anyone on purpose– and Rafe tossed the ball at you. The ground was partially frozen beneath your feet and you stumbled backwards with the sudden force of the ball, nearly toppling over. 

“Good, let's play.” 

At first, it felt hopeless as your feet slipped on the icy ground cartoonishly. Rafe’s size, strength and experience did not deter him from going full pelt, and it quickly became apparent that the only way you could gain any leverage over him was if you were to be sneaky– which of course, was easier said than done. 

Every pivot of your foot he anticipated. His agile movements made it nearly impossible to bypass him and you found yourself huffing in frustration as he swiftly confiscated the ball from your weak stance. 

“This is not fair!” You cried exasperatedly, ego depleted after numerous failures.

“You’ve got to try harder if you want to beat me.” 

Rafe’s arrogant tone only stoked the flames of your wrath. Slowing down, you realised that your frantic footwork before an attack left your defences vulnerable. Watching Rafe’s strategy, you could see that he was coming head-on, anticipating that you would focus your resources on an attack. 

This time rather than barreling towards him head-on, you hunkered down into a low stance, turning slightly and awaiting his arrival. Once within range, you swiftly kicked your right foot out, connecting with the ball. It shot through his legs, the suddenness of your attack delaying his reaction ever so slightly, allowing you ample opportunity to rush past him and possess the ball. 

After the shock wore off and Rafe turned to face you, his face was adorned by a countenance of surprise. “Wow, not bad.” 

“Got you!” You giggled, spinning around in glee. 

“You’re more fun than Sarah.” Rafe earnestly remarked. “She never wants to play. All she does is sleep and cry.”  

“I like playing with you.” 

The corners of his lips tugged upwards, his dour demeanour melting away into a softer grin. 

“Let’s try something different.” He suggested, your stomach clenching in apprehension at the mischievous glint in his eyes.

“...Ok.” 

“You stand over there,” He pointed to a small clearing between two trees, “That is the goal. You have to try and protect it.” 

“Ok.” You giggled, heart thumping in rhythm with your hasty steps. 

“Ready?”

You gave a thumbs up and he backed up. Once he was pleased, he took an initial calculative step before thundering towards the ball, sending it soaring through the air. You were sure that it would not make contact with you as it was well above your head. However, after it had risen, it quickly descended back down with the speed and precision of a hunting eagle. It slammed into the edge of your brow, making contact with a surprising amount of force. Your legs gave way under the pressure as you clutched the spot where the ball hit, eyes tearing up from the impact.

“Ow.” Your voice wobbled as you cradled your head. 

“Oh, oops.” Rafe rushed to kneel beside you, gingerly lifting your chin to inspect your face. “Are you ok?” 

You didn’t respond, and when he noticed the tears welling up in your eyes, his entire body stiffened. 

“Hey, hey, hey. Don’t cry, you’re ok.” 

Blinking furiously, you managed to keep it together, but your voice came out as a dry croak. “Am I bleeding?”

“Nah, it’ll just be a little bruise. Nothing to worry about.” 

His assurance dampened your concern, and you nodded. “Even though that really hurt, I still won. The ball didn’t pass the trees!” 

Rafe began to chuckle but was abruptly disturbed by the click of the back door. Your mother called your name into the still air. Sniffling, you brushed your hair back into place when his tight grip clasped onto your shoulders, stilling your frantic movements. 

“I was saving this for later,” His voice was hushed now as he removed a lollipop from his back pocket. “But it’s yours if you promise not to tell.” 

Wiping the corner of your eyes, you smiled, “Alright.”

iii.

You froze in front of the mirror.

Floor length, delicately laid seams stretching taut against soft curves, the colour perfectly harmonious with your undertones– The dress was a beautiful testament to how far you've come, like a chain binding the past and the present together.

There was just one issue…it wouldn’t zip up the whole way. 

You urged the seamstress to keep trying, tugging the resistant zip until it eventually gave way. It didn't, and on one particularly harsh tug, the zip got caught and pinched your flesh. You hissed, and she apologised before releasing it down and backing off. 

“Your wedding is in a week?” She inquired, glancing over your frame insouciantly.

“Yes, Saturday week.”

“I should be able to add some alterations to the back in that time.” 

Her attempt at assuaging you was futile – your mind could only focus on the wheel of possibilities, endlessly spinning. “What if there’s nothing you can do? Or the alteration destroys the style of the dress? Is there another alternative?” 

Her smile was solemn as she met your frantic gaze in the reflection. “Well, I suppose the only other suggestion I can make is to move more and eat less.”

You pressed your lips together before stepping out of the changing room into the harshly lit waiting space. Your mother’s eyes immediately widened as she shot off the couch with a mixture of admiration and concern concocting within her irises.  

“Oh, Darling. The dress is beautiful, but you don’t look happy. What’s the matter?”

“There is a slight issue…with the back.” The seamstress sighed, urging you to turn. 

Your mother attempted to stifle her gasp beneath a freshly manicured hand. She skittered forward brushing delicate fingers over the fabric, prodding and pushing at the broad opening. 

“Mum,” You groaned. “Just be honest with me, how bad is it?” 

“Well, it’s about two inches so it’s not unnoticeable.” A crease formed in her brow as she inspected you, momentarily stuck in thought. “Have you considered styling your hair down?” 

“Yes, but that's not going to fix the issue.” 

She nodded, turning her attention to the seamstress, “Ma’am, I am willing to pay the price to have my daughter's dress prioritised.” 

Before she could even consider the request, the familiar chime of your phone rang out, breaking your dazed stupor. As you peered at the screen, the name vibrantly lighting it up like a lighthouse beacon made you deeply exhale. 

“Sorry, I’ll just answer this.”  

“Is it Thomas?” Your mother’s ears piqued up in interest as you shuffled back to the changing room, her thin lips stretching into a downward crescent.

“Don’t sound more excited than me, mum.”

You swiped the accept button on the call after clicking the lock shut. “Hey sweetheart, how’s it going at the shop?” 

A pit swelled within your stomach. “Things could be better.”

“Is there an issue? Last time you couldn’t have sounded happier.” Thomas’s voice was laced with concern, the image of his deep-set frown and fidgeting fingers flashing into your mind.

“I mean, it’s nothing that can’t be fixed. Just a minor issue with the beading.”

“Alright then, so it could be worse? Regardless, I’m certain you look beautiful.”

“You’re kind of required to say that, y’know, as my fiance.” You whispered timorously.

“Required or not doesn’t make a difference if I mean it all the same.”

The impressive weight of the dress’s train dragged the bodice down with it as it cascaded into a pile of limbs on the floor. A chuffed smile melded onto your face. “Was there any real purpose to this call?” 

“Depends on what you count as purposeful. I wanted to hear my beautiful fiancé’s voice…and ask what other plans she has for the day?”

This time you snorted. Thomas was always vying for your attention. “I’m supposed to be meeting Edie at the club for lunch. She’s afraid you’ll hog up all my attention after the wedding and plans to get me drunk so she can find out all your dirty secrets.” 

“Well she’s not wrong about the first part,” He heartily chuckled. “But try not to reveal too much, I think we’ve had enough rumours spread about us for a lifetime.”

“I’ll do my best. Anyway, I probably should get going, I’m already running late.”

“Alright, I’ll see you later then. I love you.”

“Love you too.”

Your mother resumed her position on the plush white couch while she waited for you, snapping up as you beckoned for her towards the entrance. She stalked closely behind your tail, approaching warily as you headed to your car. 

“We discussed options on how the dress could be altered. It seems like the quickest solution will be to make it backless.”

“Honestly at this point, I don’t really care,” A heavy and tired sigh escaped your lips as you unlocked your car. “As long as it fits, that's all that matters to me.” 

“Darling,” Her cold grasp caught your arm, forcing you to face her. “I know how you get. Your mind is all over the place, I can see it in your eyes.”

“It’s fine mum. I gave up on perfection a long time ago.” 

“Either way, this is your big day and I want you to enjoy it. Don’t let this small mishap ruin it for you, alright?” She sagely advised, soothingly rubbing your shoulders. 

“Ok, I won’t. Promise.” Though the smile was forced, you didn’t have it in you to counter her pleading eyes. She hugged you firmly, planting a kiss on your cheek as you parted ways. 

The country club was brimming with familiar faces, each passing by with a nod of the head. In all honesty, you couldn’t remember half of their names, only being acquainted through your parents. Etiquette was an expected part of the club, though, so you returned their superficial pleasantries with an equally superficial smile. 

The dining hall was occupied by an elderly couple sharing hushed whispers beside the far right window and a group of young men ravenously devouring their meals after an afternoon playing golf. 

However, there was no sign of Edie. 

Allowing your intuition to guide you through the hive-like hallways of the facility, you eventually ended up at the outdoor bar overlooking the course green. That was where you found her; firey tresses flowing loosely over her shoulders, hunched over the bartop as she swirled a glass of glistening rosè. 

“I see you started without me.” 

Without having to turn she squealed as the sound of your voice carried over to her, attracting the attention of curious onlookers. “You made it! I was starting to think you’d bailed on me…again.”

“Ed, that was months ago. I think it’s time we move on.”

She hummed and with a light giggle tapped the stool beside her. “Only if you let me buy you a drink and promise not to complain about the heat.”

“Deal.” 

Nothing ever changed with Edie. Some people would describe her as immature, solidly stuck in the same old adolescent patterns of staying out late, drinking to the point of blacking out and entertaining unsuitable partners based on her attraction to them. But despite the opinion of others, her consistency came as a comfort to you. She knew how to have fun, and this energy never ceased to rub off on you.

“Now I know you’re probably sick of hearing it,” Already knowing where this was going, you rolled your eyes to emphasise how you felt about this turn in the conversation. Her voice was slightly slurred at this point, having gone through half a bottle of prosecco together. If you didn’t keep your wits about you, your tongue would soon become looser than you wished. 

 “But I have to ask–”

“Ed.” Your tone was firm. 

“Are you sure about this?” 

You sighed, leaning back in the stool like a beleaguered outpost, utterly surrendered and defenceless against her heavy onslaught. 

“The amount of times you’ve asked me this is making me think you just don’t like him.”

“Babe, you know it’s more complicated than that.” She gently clasped your hand. “If you’re happy, I’m happy, promise…even with his track record.” 

Your muscles stiffened, weighing you down like a heavy stone in your seat. “We put that behind us many years ago.”

“Well yeah,” She reticently continued. “I guess I’m still in the process of forgiving him, though.”

“If I can then I’m sure you have it in you.”

Her viridian eyes continued to pierce into you as she tilted her glass up to glossed lips. Sensing the finality in your tone, she nodded. 

“So, are you?”

“Am I what?” You chortled incredulously. 

“Happy!”

“Yes! Trust me if I wasn’t you’d be the first one to hear about it.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” She shimmied her shoulders with a giggle, the previously heavy aura dissipating and being charioted away by the breeze. 

The debate over your love life has been a perpetual thorn in your side for many years. People liked to voice their opinions as though your life was paltry gossip they could pass on to their hairdresser. But not many took the time to consider your perspective, your feelings, your anguish. 

Edie geared the topic of discussion to her latest rendezvous. A welcome change. Her sporadic lifestyle always kept you on your toes, considering there had been no major updates in your life for some time now... well, aside from the engagement of course. With the warm buzz pulsating through your veins, nothing could disturb the serene ambience of the club.

Almost nothing. 

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t the two finest women on this island.” Kelce, and that could only mean–

“And if it isn’t our favourite troublesome trio. What brings y'all here this evening?”

Rafe lingered behind his posse like a shadow, his feathery locks tucked beneath a dull grey cap. Though his eyes were shielded by black-out shades, you could sense the burning heat of his gaze from a mile away– your body well attuned to it. 

“Only the same as you two of course. Mind if we join you?”

“Sorry boys, but it’s kind of a girl’s night.” You quickly interjected, masking the unease in your tone with a fleeting smile. 

Edie groaned your name, “Come on, the more the merrier.”

“Yeah come on,” Rafe echoed petulantly. “It’s been a while since we last hung out.” And you got the feeling he wasn’t talking about the rest of them.

Kelce and Topper occupied the two stools adjacent to Edie, leaving the last available seat directly beside you. Rafe was entirely isolated from the group, nursing a bitterly scented beer, and you had become his sole companion.

His stool made an awful scraping sound as he encroached on your personal space. The thick, solid weight of his thigh nudging into yours caused you to flinch and you could have sworn he smirked at the. 

“So, how’ve you been?” He lazily drawled and you didn’t miss the way he blatantly zeroed in on your ring. 

“The same as always Rafe, but I can’t say that bothers me.”

“No? Y’know that surprises me, you were always so…adventurous. Didn’t think you’d settle for the housewife lifestyle so soon.” 

“You of all people should know that others can change.” You argued with a morose huff.

“Yeah, but not you.” His chuckle was merely a blank imitation of humour, shamelessly inauthentic.  

“This is kind of unfair. You seem to know my whole life story while I can barely piece yours together these days.” 

“You wanna know what I’ve been doing?” You nodded and he slouched back against the bar stool, taking a hefty swig of his beer and removing his shades with a flick of the wrist. 

“I was at the shops recently, saw your mum,”

“...Ok?” You scoffed, struggling to see the relevance. 

“She says you’ve been acting strange lately, distant, that true?” 

“She always thinks I’m acting strangely.” She also apparently likes to gossip about my personal life.

“Thing is,” He paused for a moment, grimacing as if struggling to formulate the proper words. You knew better. Nothing Rafe did was without reason. “She’s under the impression it’s got something to do with the big day.”

“The big day, are you kidding me?” 

Your heart synchronised with the beat of the music, drowning out all other immaterial noise as it pounded slow and steady in your ears. For the first time that evening, you dared a glimpse into Rafe’s eyes, immediately noticing his pupils dilated to the size of pennies.

“Jesus– Rafe,” You hissed, snatching his chin between your fingers. “I thought you gave up on that shit.”

“Always worryin’ about me.” A humourless laugh floated from his hollow chest. Cool silver dug into the supple flesh of your wrist as he gently pried your hand away. With a bated breath, you snatched the limb from his grasp. 

“Yeah, well someone has to.” You scoffed. Remanence of snow dusted his collar and without thinking you brushed it away, watching as it fluttered into small clouds before dispersing. 

“I did give up on it, by the way,” You frowned as your eyes flitted back up to him, brow raising in disbelief considering the blaring evidence that suggested otherwise. “But something’s been bothering me recently. You know what that is?” 

“No.”

His grin was so juvenile you struggled to fathom how this man-child before you was in actuality a twenty-two-year-old well on the way to developing his frontal lobe. 

He leant forward, resting the weight of his upper body on those muscly thighs, shallow breaths puffing hot and dewy onto your neck. There was no subtlety to his show of bravado. No attempt to hide his objective as the invisible string urged him forward, enabling his crude behaviour. 

He wanted to make you suffer. 

“The fact that I may have been the first man to have you, but in a week… I might not be the last.” 

iv.

Brighton Grammar wasn’t any ordinary school, and it certainly wasn’t for the weak.

On your first day, you witnessed a scrawny boy with haphazard streaks of green throughout his locks get tripped in the hallway and laughed at. The next day, he returned with a full head of brown hair. 

His conformity was duller, sure, but it removed a target off his back. The positive side to being different was that you stood out and the negative was that you stood out. 

It was a lose-lose situation. 

“I don’t see why you bother with all those clubs and shit.” Rafe dallied beside you with his hands stuffed in his pockets. He took it upon himself to chauffeur you between classes, and you didn’t miss the way the crowds parted for him like a proverbial red sea. 

A sense of discomfort washed over you as Rafe’s hallowed presence had both girls and boys alike turning their heads. Then there was just you. Plain old you. It was unfair, like pitting a stone against a diamond– ultimately you stood no chance.  

“I’m trying to find my passion and form connections. You should try it sometime, then maybe you won't be such a grouch.” He snarled and swerved to the side when you reached to pinch his arm. His reaction stirred a playful snicker from your lips. 

“Uh-huh. You talk like my fuckin’ grandma, y’know that?” 

“I guess that means, unlike some people I have manners.” He glared at you again, a growing grin nearly breaking his unbothered countenance. “Anyway, I am very capable of making my own decisions and I didn’t ask for your opinion.”

“You, capable? That’s not something I ever thought I’d hear.”

“Oh screw you! Starting today I am an independent woman.”

This time he barked out a laugh. “Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

You came to a halt outside the locked classroom, leaning against the bulletin board frame and waving at your classmates as they mingled amongst each other. Rafe snatched the scheduling paper from your hands, snorting when you cursed him for it. 

“General maths with Mr Dubra? Damn, all I can say is good luck.” 

His words registered someplace in your mind, but your attention had ventured elsewhere. Rafe followed your transfixed gaze to the bulletin board; a bright-coloured poster with cursive font drew you in like a moth to a flame. In the centre of the A4 page was a picture of a small collective of students, the boy at the front particularly capturing your attention as his pointed finger directed at you. 

Auditions for Brighton Grammar’s Hamlet are to be held in the auditorium during lunchtime this Thursday! Do you have what it takes thou thespian?

“I think I’ll join the theatre club.” 

Rafe’s expression could only be described as utterly mortified. “Hey if you want to be labelled a fucking loser, be my guest,” He raised his hands in surrender. “I ain't gonna stop you since you’re an ‘independent woman’ now.”

Your attempt to swing at him failed miserably as he dodged your attack with ease. 

Ironically enough, you had been joking. The spotlight never called to you the thought of that much attention made your skin crawl. What you were drawn to on the other hand was the underappreciated art of stage crew, the glue that binds a production together. 

But the ironic part of it all was that you did end up joining. For one, pathetic and degrading reason:

Thomas Hughes. The boy on the poster.

While you would describe Rafe as universally attractive, Thomas was the kind of handsome that not everyone could appreciate; a somewhat lanky build, eyes deep set into his skull as though he were eternally sleep deprived and unkempt hair tied into a loose bun. 

But most notable was his aura, one of complete self-assurance and radiating warmth. He was also in Rafe’s year level– the grade above you –and you were certain the blonde would not approve, which made it all the more thrilling. 

And for the sole reason of your silly little schoolgirl crush, you found yourself itching to get out of class after fourth period on Thursday. Unbeknownst to the pack of hounds you liked to call friends. 

“You coming to lunch?” Topper asked as you passed him in the hallway, heading in the opposite direction of the cafeteria. 

You shook your head with an affable grin. “I’ll catch up with you guys later.”

“Rafe won’t be happy.” 

“Remind me to give a fuck.” 

The auditorium was located on the west wing of the school, an old block that had been neglected by the school's previous funding. The heavy double doors creaked as you pushed through them, eyes momentarily adjusting to the dim lighting. 

At the front of the stage sat a panel. Some students, some older, presumably teachers. You took a seat a few rows behind them, intent on simply observing. 

There were six others in the crowd, bouncing their knees and fidgeting with their jewellery anxiously. All apart from one girl who sat up straight, clad in a stained white gown. She caught your intrigued gaze and softly beamed in return, offering you a wave. 

Thomas emerged from the right wing clasping a manila folder. “What a turnout, huh? Now as you probably all know, I will be starring as Hamlet–” The audience erupted in a fit of claps and he bent over into a small bow.

“Thank you, thank you, I am honoured. But more importantly, we are in desperate need of an Ophelia, Gertrude and a Polonius. The show can not go on without them! So I invite you all today to give it your best shot.” 

He gave a cue to someone in the light box and the overhead fresnels were adjusted to a neutral glow. “Well then, I don’t see any point in keeping you all waiting. Who would like to go first?”

The girl in the white gown sprung her hand up with little hesitation. “Alright, thank you, Cindy. The stage is all yours.” 

Cindy, as you now came to know her, strode up the steps, hips swaying confidently like a lioness on the prowl. She was offered a script but turned it down, “I’ve memorised this act.” Another girl in the crowd scoffed, shaking her head. 

As she began, you took note of the dip in her cadence as it transitioned from her naturally firm voice to something delicate and wispy. She had an interesting way of manoeuvring across the stage, light-footed movements carrying her graciously on the wooden surface akin to a small cloud conquering the great big sky. As her performance came to an end, the panel of judges clapped and hooted, and she hid her face in the palms of her hands as it turned notably red.  

Thomas offered his hand to help her off the stage, “Great job Cindy! Although I would add for you to maybe tone down on the crazy. It is only the beginning of the play, Ophelia is still fairly sane.” 

The gleam in her eyes faltered slightly. “Oh–uh…ok. I’ll remember that for next time.”

“If there is a next time, don’t get too cocky,” Thomas spoke without looking up from his notes, missing the way her jaw fell open in surprise. 

“Who’s next?”

The room was swept into silence, everyone glancing around with hesitation. 

“You in the back!” Your head snapped upwards, heart dropping instantly, and you awkwardly gestured to confirm that he was indeed referring to you despite the burning of eyes trained on you like being under a spotlight. “Yes, you. Since no one else was brave enough to volunteer, I nominate you.”

“Oh, well I wasn’t actually going to audition. I was just interested in seeing how this all…works.” You chuckled nervously. 

“Nonsense! We don’t bite, do we?” A chorus of ‘no we don'ts’’ echoed in the large space. “Besides, it’s worth a shot. Some people are naturals and you will never know if you don’t give it a go.” 

It wasn’t like you couldn’t refuse. These were theatre kids not abductors with a gun held to your head. But there was an indescribable intensity radiating off of them as if they could sense the refusal on the tip of your tongue, and for the first time, you felt the agonising weight of what your mother would call peer pressure.

 “Alright, why not.”

“That’s the spirit!” You were ushered up to the stage before you had the chance to reconsider, face burning and legs trembling. Thomas’s fingers scraped against yours as he handed over the script. Your breath momentarily hitched and you flinched as though a spark of electricity had been transferred between you. 

“Just read what’s been highlighted, the other shit isn’t necessary.” 

You nodded, mumbling in recognition as you noticed that at least two-quarters of the page had been highlighted in yellow. 

Inhaling deeply, you centred your focus on the script, attempting to block out the sets of eyes trained on you. You opened your mouth…and laughed. A painstakingly timorous noise that could only be controlled by slapping a hand over your traitorous lips. 

 “I’m sorry, this feels so unnatural to me.” 

“No need to apologise, we’ve all been there,” Thomas’s tone was earnest, void of any judgement and this quelled the pin-pricking sensation circulating through your extremities slightly. “How ‘bout we read through the scene first so you have a better understanding of it. Shakespearean language can be a real bastard if you’re not used to it.”

You giggled at his jocose attitude, relief washing over you like a damp cloth. “I think that would help, thank you.”

From what you gathered the scene went as follows: Ophelia's father Polonius and her brother Laertes say their good-byes, consecutively warning her not to trust Hamlet’s promises of love as well as ordering her not to see Hamlet again. 

Although you still admired her performance, Thomas’s criticism of Cindy’s portrayal made much more sense now. Though Ophelia is famously driven to madness later on in the play– accumulating in her untimely and equally ambiguous end– at this stage of the story, she is merely a heartstruck girl observing the world through rose-tinted lenses. 

“Good to go?”  

“I think so.”

“Alright, everyone! Give it up for…sorry, what’s your name?”

Your voice echoed with a newfound confidence and the crowd repeated it in a cheer. Perhaps you had been wrong, maybe you did like the spotlight, only you’d never given it the proper chance. 

Mimicking Cindy, you adopted a higher pitch. Not shrill like the birds that resided outside your window each morning, but a pleasant touch of feminine; soft and delicate. You ambled across the stage, not in the same floaty manner she had employed but instead surefooted, conveying Ophelia’s clear-mindedness at this stage of the play. Unlike Cindy, however, you did not have the lines down, forcing you to take a slower approach. But this seemed to work in your favour, your slowed speech giving you plenty of opportunity to focus on your facial expressions, ensuring that they matched what was being described in the cues. 

As your performance wrapped up and the adrenaline steadily receded, you couldn’t resist fixating on Thomas in the crowd who gazed up at you as though you hung the moon and stars in the sky. 

And for the first time at your godforsaken school, you felt seen.

v.

The hum of silence echoed in the Cameron’s dining room, encompassing the yellow walls in a damp sheen that refused to dry. Silver cutlery clinked against delicate porcelain, and as you picked away at your food, Rose smiled at you from across the table. 

“So…Rafe tells us that you’re going to be in the school’s performance, what was the name–” 

“Hamlet.” The blonde blankly interrupted, and you were surprised that he even knew that. “She’s playing the girl who kills herself.” 

Ward hummed in interest, passing you the salad bowl. “That's excellent news. Theatre was a thriving business in my generation but it seems to have become somewhat of a dying art. Good on you for keeping it alive.” 

“Well I didn’t exactly plan on joining, it just kind of happened–”

“She’s got a thing for the main guy, Tobias or some shit, that’s why she auditioned.”

“Rafe!” He grunted as you nudged his shin, lips peeling into a provoking smirk at your scolding. 

“You gonna tell me I’m wrong?” He teased with a venomous undertone only you seemed to register, and your eyes narrowed at him.

“I want to see, I want to see, who’s this guy?” Sarah wheedled with her big brown eyes. 

“Shut up, Sarah–” 

“Rafe! Do not speak to your sister that way.” Ward’s voice boomed like a deafening clap of thunder, and once his pulsating anger settled, a small cry erupted from Wheezie who tried to conceal her tears beneath a dotted napkin. Rose was quick to placate the young girl with promises of dessert, whisking her off into the kitchen but not before refilling her glass of chardonnay. 

Once they were out of sight, Ward beckoned Sarah to clamber onto his lap, folding her small face into his broad neck before regarding his son with a scalding glare. “Look at what you’ve done.”

The interaction was unsettling, to say the least, but not uncommon. Rafe’s lips pinched shut, suppressing a whimper. In the face of his father’s wrath, he would always detract from his usual tough persona, retreating into the shell of a wounded puppy. You didn’t blame him. Ward could be cruel with no regard for the effect his words had on his son, and you loathed him for his blatant favouritism. 

You reached for his hand underneath the table, intertwining the cold extremity with your own. He flinched at first, aggressively flicking his head toward you. But as you gave it a gentle squeeze he seemed to catch on to your intention and his body fell back into a relaxed state. 

You tried to be there for Rafe as much as you could, but despite your efforts, the void left by an absent father was irreplaceable. You could only try your best, but sometimes you had to put yourself first, even if that meant neglecting the needs of those closest to you. 

The production was a much bigger commitment than you initially thought. Rehearsals pulled you from classes multiple times a week and you began to worry that it could potentially detract from your other subjects. But as a young woman, the possibility of it reeling you from your scholarly responsibilities was not quite as concerning as it was that you felt you were failing at your duties as a friend. 

It had been raining consistently for the past five days. Endless bouts of downpours during spring thickened the soil and left the air with an unpleasantly muggy tinge. You and Rafe slouched against the linoleum floors of the school gymnasium, slightly obscured from view by the red curtains of the wall-length window. He shut your concerns of being caught down by offering you a swig of whatever concoction he’d brought onto school premises.

“How about instead of getting your tits in a twist about it, you have some.”

Classic Rafe. 

But you did end up having some because as soon as he began ranting you knew it was necessary for your own mental wellbeing. 

“You better fucking be there ‘cause there’s no way I can deal with all those old farts on my own.”  

“Am I even invited?” You grimaced as the bitter taste invaded your tastebuds, eagerly handing the flask back, to which he condescendingly snorted. 

A gathering with Ward and his highly esteemed guests could only entail boredom to a deadly degree. Even thinking about it made you yawn, but on the other hand, you would feel bad if Rafe had to endure it on his own.  

“Dad says you're more than welcome, he likes having you around,” He let out a small chuckle, ruffling his short bangs. “He says you keep me sane like we’re an old married couple or some shit.”

At that, you couldn’t help but barked out in laughter. “Yeah right. Say we ever did hypothetically get married, one of us would probably end up killing the other.”

“Yeahhh, probably.”

 He drank again, eyeing you scrupulously, and in that moment you wished you could climb into his brain to know what he was thinking. There was a brief awkward pause before you cleared your throat and asked, “Wait, when did you say this was again?” 

“Friday, afterschool��why?”

“Shit, Rafe��”

“Nah. You gotta be fucking kiddin’ me, again. They can’t keep you after school on a Friday! That’s criminal.”

“I know, trust me I agree.”

“Don’t go then.” He countered with a raised brow, testing you. 

“I would If I could, you know that. But there’s two weeks till the show, there’s just too much to do.” 

“Sure, whatever you say.” He lifted the silver cylinder back up to his lips, taking a long swig. 

“Rafe,” You sighed, trying to reason with him. “Please don’t be mad at me, I’m sorry–”

You were cut off as the doors to the gym groaned, opening to reveal the last person you expected to see.

Thomas. 

“Oh, hey. What’s up?” He seemed surprised to see you, but even more surprised to see you with Rafe, eyes flickering between you with confusion. 

“Hi Thomas, we were just,” His attention flitted down to the flask, incriminating evidence that you quickly swept beneath Rafe’s folded leg, “Uh, what are you doing here? Never took you as the sporting kind of lad.”

Shit, that was bad. As if Rafe was thinking the same thing, he snorted into his fist. You wanted to crumble right then and there.

Thomas seemed to find your comment amusing, however, bowing his head as he chortled. “Damn, it’s that obvious, huh? But nah, I’m just tryna help Cindy find her phone. I would ask what you guys are up to, but…well, I don’t really wanna know.” 

“Ah, well I hope she finds it. We didn’t see anything, did we, Rafe?”

“Nope.” He popped his ‘p’ when answering, and you frowned, unimpressed by his cavalier attitude. “Hey man, why don’t you join us?” 

Rafe tilted his head at Thomas in what would appear to the average eye as a friendly gesture but you knew better; he was up to no good. 

“I would. But as I said, I gotta–”

“Oh c'mon, I’m sure she could do with the detox.”

“Uh…”

“Is that a yes?” He gestured toward you, “She won’t mind. In fact, I think she’d much prefer to hang out with you than me–”

Classic Rafe. You desperately waved your hands at Thomas, attempting to damage control before he had the opportunity to make the situation even more awkward. “Don’t listen to him, he’s way too used to getting his way. Go if you need to.”

A brief glint of relief flashed across Thomas’s features, and like a rabbit caught in a tiff, he seized the opportunity you provided to flee. “You’re right, I really ought to go. Thanks for the offer though, man. See you both around.” 

As soon as the doors clicked shut again, you wasted no time. Rafe didn’t even attempt to defend himself against your slew of attacks, simply taking your weak hits for what they were.

“What the fuck was that?” You finally hissed out once you’d calmed down. 

“What was what?”

“Don’t be a moron, are you trying to embarrass me?” 

“Oh, sorry for being a good wingman.” His shrug was insouciant, further frustrating you. 

“What you’re being is a pain in my ass.” 

He didn’t react to that in the way you expected. Generally, he found the humour in your insults, but this time a coldness you weren’t accustomed to receiving glazed over his eyes.

“You really like this guy, huh?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Cut the shit. You’ve only ever acted like this with that kid who proposed to you in the sandpit.” As you stood he sighed, realising you were refusing to engage in this conversation. “So will I see you on Friday or not?”

“Probably not.”

“See! I knew you’d rather hang out with him than me!” He shouted after you as you stormed off to your next class, gait regretfully swaying as the effects of Rafe’s concoction set in.

In the weeks leading up to the performance, things only became more hectic. If you were to get your cortisol levels tested the results would likely conclude abnormally high. To make matters worse, Rafe was mad at you. Topper and Kelce tried to assure you that he wasn’t, but you knew better. He didn’t respond to your texts, barely acknowledged your presence at school and hadn’t invited you over in a week. All very abnormal behaviours as, while yes, he was an inherit dickhead, you were usually exempt from this. 

So naturally, you did what any normal person in such circumstances would do; gave him the same treatment in return. Only acknowledging the damage his behaviour was inflicting upon you in furious scribbles in your lavender spiral diary. 

You were having your costume fitted in the small dressing room adjacent to the auditorium. Cindy was booked for her appointment afterwards and in the meantime she lazed on the tattered purple couch in the corner of the room, scrolling through her phone. 

A girl from the costume department examined the logistical functioning of your costume as there were a few instances in the performance where a quick change was necessary. Her vivacious red curls bounced as she turned the room upside down in search of her pins. 

“Ok then, you’re pretty much done. I’ll just have to hem the base so we adhere to theatre-safe practices and all that stupid shit they assess…” She paused and eyed you over, tugging at the loose sleeve of your dress with a hum. “You look so pretty, like a fairy.”

“Thank you.” You bashfully smiled. She returned it before turning to the other girl in the room.

“Cindy.” 

“Hm?”

“Cindy.” 

“What?” She snapped, tearing her gaze from her phone. 

“What do you think?”

“I mean it’s alright” She shrugged, face peeling into a saccharine grin. “Not really your colour but you definitely suit rags.”

 You would’ve burst out into laughter had you not been so shocked.

“Now I remember why I don’t ask for your opinion,” The redhead rolled her eyes, shoving Cindy’s garment bag into her lap. “Be useful and get changed into this. I’ll get started on you in a moment.”

Once Cindy had left the room, she bowed her head apologising. 

“I’m guessing you’re not her biggest fan?” 

“Not a fan, period.” She sullenly snorted. “She’s a sanctimonious bitch who can’t keep her nose out of other peoples’ business.”

“She’s pretty at least.” You tried to see the best in people, despite how difficult they made it for you. 

“Well, that’s about all she has to offer. I’m Edie, by the way.”

And the rest was history. 

Similarly to the majority of the cast and crew, Edie was in Rafe’s grade. And when she discovered (during your break on Friday rehearsals) that you knew the infamous blonde personally, you did not hear the end of it.

“You’re friends with Rafe Cameron?” Her jaw fell open so quickly that you worried it would pop out of alignment. 

“Yeah, I mean we practically grew up together. I’ve spent half my life at his house.”

“You go to his house?! Holy fuck, you’ve been living my dream life like it’s nothing to you.”

“Trust me it’s not as good as you might think. He can be a real ass–”

“Hope you’re not talkin’ about me?” An arm suddenly snaked over your shoulder. The limb was heavy but warm– comforting –and emanated a pleasant aroma. Thomas let his hair hang loose today, long ebony strands pirouetting over the surface of your skin when you glanced up at him.

“Ah-ha not specifically, but I don’t know, maybe it applies to you too.”

In true theatrical style, he sputtered out a choking noise, clasping onto his chest to imitate immense pain. “Ouch. I think you just broke my heart.”

“Oh really? I didn’t realise Martians could feel pain.”

He gasped, and Edie chuckled at the interaction from beside you, shaking her head at your antics. “O-kay as cute as that was, can we please get back to the topic of Rafe.”

Thomas’s expression pinched in discomfort at the mention of the blonde and you recalled your last interaction with them both, inwardly cringing. “Does he have a problem with me or something? I feel like he does.”

“Wouldn’t be surprising. He’s always looking to have a problem with someone.”

“Seems to tolerate you though.”

“Barely,” He opened his mouth to respond but was beaten to it by a loud screech sounding out the syllables of his name. Cindy stood atop the stage, tapping her foot rhythmically against the solid wood with her arms crossed over her chest, not bothering to contain her lour. 

“Thomas!” her voice pierced across the auditorium again like one of those pesky drillers going off on a Sunday morning. “I want to go over the cues for this scene, c’mon.”

“Hey,” Edie halted him as he begrudgingly moved to acquiesce to her demand, “Just remember you have free will.”

“Well look how far that’s gotten me.” 

You weren’t sure what he meant by that, as though it were some cryptic message you’d been tasked to decode. He smiled, bidding you both goodbye with a simple wave and you paused for a moment, observing as he trudged away. 

Edie cleared her throat and you were snapped out of your daze, returning to the present only to realise– with much dismay –that your face had been donned with a damning grin. Her brow quirked and you knew what was coming. 

“What’s that look for?” 

“Something you wanna tell me?”

“Um… I don’t think so?” Your voice came out in a pathetic squeak and you cleared it, although the damage had already been done. 

“Oh come on,” She scoffed with an omniscient smirk, “You’re about as transparent as my gran’s panties…You like him.”

“Not you too.” You groaned, pivoting on your heels to take a seat in one of the rows of chairs furthest away from anyone else. If she wanted to have this conversation it was going to be out of earshot. Lest someone else managed to uncover your secret it would soon spread like wildfire. Her girlish giggle followed, and she saddled up beside you. 

“There’s no shame in it, babe. Tom’s a good guy, and you seem to get along…but–”

“But what?” 

Her expression soured, as though the words on the tip of her tongue were full of bile. “One thing you should know about Tom is that for many years, he had a thing for Cindy,” Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, “She rejected and rejected him, and eventually he moved on…but she didn’t like that. Not one bit. But now it seems the tables have turned. Did you know she fucking hates theatre?”

“Doesn’t seem that way to me.” You were prompted to glance up onto the stage where the two were currently rehearsing; she made it seem so effortless. How could she hate the things she was good at?

“Exactly. That’s why she’s so dangerous, she can keep up a good act.”

“I see…” This information shouldn’t have unsettled you. The past was set in stone for a reason and it was only possible for it to be resurfaced if you allowed it to. But it did unsettle you. Cindy possessed a classic kind of beauty you weren’t sure you could compete with. “So do you think if she were to ever bring it up, he would go for her again?”

“Hard to tell, with both of them. I’m pretty sure it’s just a game to her, she likes the attention. But as for Thomas, I think he’s beginning to see things clearer now.”

You tilted your head, unsure of what she meant by that.

“He’s not thinking with his dick.” She clarified bluntly, the crass wording making you gasp and then chuckle.

“Right. Good to know.”

Your phone vibrated from within your jeans pocket and you were surprised to see that it was Rafe calling you, considering you’d essentially gone with no contact for days. Assuming the worst, you excused yourself.

As you placed the phone to your ear you could only manage to make out a whooshing sound as though he were standing atop a viciously windy mountain. Then it stopped in tandem with what sounded to be like a string of expletives before he finally spoke.

“Yooo, what’s up? You coming?” Your brows furrowed at his elated tone. Last you’d checked, he was ignoring you. 

“Rafe, I already told you I can't–”

“Chill, it's fine. Got dumb and dumber to come over, keep me entertained”

“The fuck you just call us?” Topper and Kelce both shouted in unison somewhere in the background. Aside from their outburst, you couldn’t make out any other noise so you imagined they’d locked themselves away from all the action with Ward and his friends. Rafe detested hanging out with the oldies.

“OK, good. Saves me from feeling bad. But are you alright, you sound a bit…” Happy. The word you were grasping for was happy because you couldn’t remember the last time he’d sounded so carefree. 

“Better than ever!” 

“And are we ok?” 

“Yeahhh, you’re too cute to stay mad at for long.”

His response stifled you for a moment. “That’s real funny, Rafe.”

But in the coming days, something told you this may not be the case. 

Instead of avoiding you, Rafe wasn’t even showing up to school anymore. You were worried he was still clinging onto the remnants of his unjust anger until you received another phone call at 2:30 am, the night before your performance.

“Rafe…” You rubbed the sleep from your eyes, voice groggy and disoriented as you checked the glaring red lines on your digital clock. “What’s wrong? Do you even know what time it is?”

“Yeah, uh I’m sorry…” He sniffed. “I’m outside, can I come– ah actually y’know what just come out front, will you?” 

You paused. On any ordinary occasion, you’d have told him to piss off, too tired and frustrated to entertain his larks. But a stab of concern reared its ugly head at his shakey tone– this was very out of character.   

“Yeah, yeah of course. I’ll be out in a minute.”

It was a blisteringly cold night so you shrugged on a coat before trekking downstairs quietly, praying your parents weren’t lying awake to witness you sneaking out of the house in the wee hours. 

The front door scraped against the doormat as it opened. Rafe remained slumped against one of the white veranda pillars, motionless, as though he hadn’t heard you. His breaths were heavy, and upon assessing him you frowned at the fact that he was merely clad in a thin polo shirt and khaki shorts. 

“...Rafe?” You brushed your fingers gingerly across the wide expanse of his shoulders. He violently flinched, whipping around as though your touch was a burning affliction upon his supple skin. But his harsh reaction quickly softened when he saw it was just you.

 “Shit, don’t do that.”

“Sorry.” You whispered, dragging your eyes from his head down to his toes, assessing for any injuries. His unmarred skin left you stumped and it was only when you honed in on his frantic gaze did the issue finally dawned on you.

“Are you high?” 

Your question seemed to strike a nerve. He scrunched his face within his hands, as though he were in pain.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I-it’s like I’m seeing shit and hearing shit and my head hurts so fucking bad.” He was reacting badly. “And all I could think about was seeing you.”

“Did you fight with Ward?” This time he didn’t flinch as you grabbed onto his bicep, hoping to ground him. 

“Yeah, uh, yeah he’s just–”

“It’s alright, you don’t have to explain that right now. I’m here.” His burly arms engulfed you as he accepted your hug. You entangled yourself within his embrace, understanding that right now, all he desired was some comfort. 

“Thanks.” 

His voice was muffled by the position with his head stuffed into your shoulder. You gently tighten your hold in response, focusing on the rapid stuttering of his heartbeat which gradually slowed and levelled out into a calmer rhythm.    

What came next was like an inevitable chain of events: both of you pulled back at the same time and a frisson of confusion swept over you as he remained there, content with your noses practically intertwining. Although you weren’t confused. No. You were evading the truth. The truth that had become crystallised at this moment, glistening so bright you could hardly ignore it. 

One moment you were pinned to the spot by his sodden gaze, sporadically alternating between each region of your face. Mapping out each detail but notably lingering on your lips. Emotions raged within those viridian orbs like a violent coastal storm, threatening to destroy whatever stability you had left. 

Then, as though it were natural to him, he met you in the middle. 

You’d never experienced anything like it, and any story you’d been told was not comparable. His lips were firm and demanding in a way that surprised you and there was not a single trace of hesitation in his movement, as though he’d been waiting for this moment for a long time. 

Reality came crashing into you like a truck; you were kissing your best friend. The boy you bathed with as a child, who allowed you to snot into his sleeve as you wept and who vowed to protect you from the plight of men; It felt nice, but this sentiment was so heavily outweighed by the fact that it felt wrong. 

This revelation ignited your dormant reflexes. As he began to paw at your lower back, you realised this had gone too far. 

The rate at which you pushed him away stunned even you, and a wave of guilt ebbed through your system as his back collided with the pillar; you didn’t mean to be so harsh, after all, he was already in a vulnerable state. He remained crumpled in that position, fingers ghosting over his lips as if he were attempting to savour the taste of your own. 

“Shit, I-I’m always fucking up, I’m sorry,” He cupped your chin, the action causing you to jerk. “Sorry.” 

It unnerved how contrived his apology sounded, and you wondered if he could hear it too. 

“Uh-no no it’s ok,” Your body was frozen in a state of shock. “You're all over the place,” Surely he’d brush this off as a mistake by morning. “let's get you inside, yeah?”

His eyes glazed over your face once again, scrupulously this time, as though he were searching for something. He nodded when he didn’t find it, seemingly wanting to say more as he brushed the back of his neck but he chose to remain silent as you led him inside. 

It wasn’t unusual for you to share a bed; you’d done so numerous times in the past. But it felt different now, like an invitation you were reluctant to hand out. You wanted to be there for Rafe, but you couldn’t let him get confused.

So you lay there, keeping an appropriate amount of distance from the snoring blonde. If you acted normal, things would remain as they always had, right? Would it be swiped under the rug? Deep down you realised the implications of what had just occurred, and the potential for your…brief mistake to alter both of your futures. It was a classic tale, one you’d heard so many times (both in reality and fiction) it had burned deep into your psyche. A slow evolution between boy and girl, from friendship to beyond. But that didn’t mean you'd end like that, you repeated it over and over again like a mantra. 

You just couldn’t.

So you lay there, deciding to enjoy this peaceful moment. Naturally, your mind drifts over it all: the play, Thomas, and Rafe beside you. All share a common denominator– pumping your life full of both excitement and stress. 

But as the saying goes; all good things must come to an end. 

vi.

Rafe experienced what you liked to call a reverse metamorphosis during your senior year. 

Why reverse? Well, instead of transforming from a raggedy moth, expanding his wings to flourish as a butterfly, he took a drastic turn for the worse; as though he’d retreated into a slimy cocoon. 

Not that he’d ever been exceptionally well-behaved throughout his schooling years– busted for truancy more times than you could count, dabbling in all sorts of allusive substances among other nefarious things that you try not to dwell on –but as a recent graduate privileged with all the resources needed to pave a bright future, you had at least expected he’d try.

Unfortunately, things didn’t always pan out as you imagined they would. 

If he wasn’t drunk, or at least on the brink of it, then he was under the influence of some other powdery or herbal substance. Wasting his days away under the soft confinements of his bedding, recovering from late nights and remaining slumped against the toilet for the better half of his waking hours. Then he’d repeat the cycle, with absolutely no lessons learnt. 

Sometimes you’d receive a call. Incoherent slurs that reminded you of that fateful night months ago, where lines were blurred and boundaries crossed. His drunken words held no meaning, right? That’s what you would tell yourself, like a mantra, over and over until your mind believed what it heard the most. 

Nonetheless, you couldn’t spend your whole life worrying about Rafe. Not when you had other, more imperative issues at hand. 

Or… between your legs. 

The nonsensical droning emitted from the food network on your TV fell on deaf ears as you sat perched on Thomas's lap. The weight of your knees was supported by cherry sheets and pink frilly pillows as your lips moved against his at a languid pace. It was soft, sensual…tame, but at the same time exhilarating, and you trusted Thomas to guide you through it.

He let out a low groan as your fingers absentmindedly tugged on his shiny locks. Much to your dismay, he recently cut his hair shorter than it's ever been; his new look attracted attention from those who previously dismissed him, and this stoked the flames of unease within you.

You lowered your position, leaning impossibly closer until your chest brushed against the flimsy cotton of his t-shirt. A jolt of electricity transmitted up your spine as his hands found purchase on your lower back, traversing dangerously low, and a soft whimper floated from your chest.

But as you were still discovering, the art of intimacy was much more complex than you initially believed, and you hadn’t quite learnt how to toe the line.

Without thinking, your thumbs dipped into the waistline of his pants. Just barely tickling the surface, but enough to make Thomas jerk his head back, the hasty action subsequently halting your heated movements. 

 “What’re you doing?” His voice was outlandishly thick as his breaths came out in heavy puffs, scented in confusion. 

“I-i just thought…” You sat back, feeling suddenly unmoored. “Sorry, am I doing something wrong?”

“Of course not, just not right now, ok?” His deft fingers kneaded into your side, but their intended comforting effect did nothing to quell the pang of his rejection. 

“Sure.” You halfheartedly smiled, slipping off of his warm body to settle by his side. 

Had you been as stiff as a board this entire time? And why was your bedroom becoming increasingly suffocating? As though the walls unanimously decided to close in and focus every second of awkwardness into one concentrated area. 

“Wanna watch a movie?” Thomas eventually broke the heavy silence, refusing to broach the elephant in the room– which you were thankful for.

Clearing your throat, you rolled out of your bed, pulling on a pair of fuzzy socks. “Yeah, I’ll-uh get us something to eat. You choose the movie.”

Your relationship with Thomas had been smooth sailing…until it wasn't. 

As you busied yourself slicing up a platter of fruit in the kitchen, you couldn’t resist analysing each possibility as to why. Thomas was acting strangely. This wasn’t an assumption, and it couldn’t have been a coincidence that his change in demeanour always seemed to occur in your presence. So then what were you doing wrong? And why did he insist on keeping you in the dark?

Your train of thought came to an abrupt halt as you noticed an onslaught of notifications popping up on your phone. With an exasperated groan, you leaned over the bench to see who dared to disrupt your moment's peace.

Rafe. Could you get a break?

To: Princess Rafe 🙄👑  Piss off I’m busy.

You left it there, praying to any deity willing to lend you an ear that that would suffice. But clearly, you’d also managed to vex the higher beings, as his response was immediate:

From: Princess Rafe 🙄👑 I’m going 74 mph yet I take the time to talk to you 🖕

Yep. No break for you. 

To: Princess Rafe 🙄👑  ???? Dude get off your fucking phone. 

From: Princess Rafe 🙄👑 Since you asked so nicely.

And if his cavalier regard for the law wasn’t bad enough, his next message sent your jaw straight to the floor.

“Nope. Not dealing with this.” You shoved your phone into your pocket, ignoring the buzz of a new notification, both for your sanity and Rafe’s safety. 

When you returned to your room, Thomas had migrated to the carpet, perched atop a pile of decorative pillows you’d previously discarded onto the floor as he flicked through the pages of a familiar lavender spiral notebook. 

You gasped, the realisation of what he was rifling through and slapping you right across the face. 

“Oh, hey.” He smirked– that sick, condescending bastard!

“STOP!” You screeched, and his laughter verged on hysterical. “Put. That. Down.”

He swiftly dogged the stuffed animals you pelted in his direction, pouting derisively as you proceeded to storm towards him. “Aw, why would I do that? I was just getting to the part where you’ve described my scent. Lemon myrtle? That’s pretty specific, it’s actually musk–”

“Thomas.” Your tone acquired a sharp edge, but clearly, he hadn’t tortured you enough as he teasingly flicked to the newer entries.  

“Oh, and what’s this…” His posture went lax, abruptly pausing. His wide eyes darted in between the lines as though the words were a mirage he was reluctant to put his trust in. Then his lips pulled down into a small frown, and your stomach clenched. 

“What? Where the hell are you up to?” Your attempt to snatch at the book was fruitless as he kept it raised well above your reach. “Wha–”   

 “Alright, I’ve had enough of this game for one night. Let’s watch the movie.” You stumbled to catch the book as he carelessly discarded it, pivoting around you as he flopped back onto the bed.

“Okay…but don’t make a habit of breaching my privacy.” Your laugh was intended to lighten the mood, but it seemed to have the opposite effect. 

“Why, got something to hide?” He sullenly spoke, staring at the ceiling. Again, the inexplicable tension had wormed its back into your room. It was like a stubborn parasite that adapted to its surroundings, never completely disappearing. 

“Nothing too damning I’d imagine.”

The movie Thomas chose was a 20th-century romantic tragedy featuring many themes typical of that era such as misogyny and class which made your eyes roll. Your attention to the plot was continually hijacked as Rafe continued to flood your phone with messages, making it difficult to follow along with the plot. You’d been in the middle of responding to one of his many texts (complaining about how some guy at a party was getting on his nerves) when the movie suddenly paused.

“Mm, why'd you pause it?” You peeled your eyes from the screen to be met by Thomas’s blank ones.

“Can I ask you something? And I want you to just be honest with me, don’t tell me what I want to hear.”

“Uh, sure.” His quick transition into seriousness caught you by surprise, and your body tensed like a coiled spring. 

“Alright look, I hate to be this guy,” His face scrunched into a grimace as he glanced anywhere but your eyes. “But you’d tell me if there was someone else, wouldn’t you?”

“Someone else? What do you mean?”

He sighed, clearly frustrated. “Let me be more clear then. If you liked someone else, would you string me along…or would you break things off?”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing, now twisting your body to face him with a scoff. “Who do you think I am, Thomas? I was the one who asked you out, remember? That wasn’t on a whim, I did that because I liked you.”

“Liked?”

You groaned. Why was he making this so complicated?

 “Liked, like. What difference does it make? To me, this seems like you are trying to come to the conclusion you want to hear?”

“I’m not jumping to conclusions, just tryna test my hypothesis.”

“Okay, and what’s that?” Probing information out of him was like bribing a kid with vegetables; fucking tedious. 

“That you care about Rafe more than you’re letting on, maybe more than you even realise.”

“What?” You almost laughed in disbelief. Where was this even coming from? “He’s one of my best friends, wouldn’t it be more concerning if I didn’t care for him?”

“I never said you couldn’t care about him to a normal degree, but he may as well be in the room with us! It’s never just me and you, he’s always occupying your mind. Do you not stop to think about how that makes me feel?” 

He did have a point. Rafe was like a dog, constantly demanding your attention, and it had been that way since the day you met him. Still, you sat there in shock, realising he must’ve been bottling this up for some time now. 

“I didn’t mean- well alright if we’re suddenly being honest, half the time I’m with you it feels like you don’t even want me there.”

“What does that mean?” Now it was his turn to sound confused, offended even.

“You confuse me! One moment you’re all over me and the next you’re pushing me away as though I make your skin crawl.” 

He paused, contemplatively digesting your words before his pretty features twisted into an indignant scowl. “So does that excuse what you did? Because I don’t show you enough attention?”

“What did I do?” You were at your wit’s end.

“Oh stop pretending like you don’t know what I’m talking about. I saw it, written in your pretty fucking handwritten; you kissed him.”

Oh. Shit. Of all entries, it was that one he had to have read; which did not paint the clearest picture of that night. You got halfway through documenting what had happened before stopping right at the point when you realised it was wrong, no longer feeling in the mood to relive the moment…no wonder he was furious. 

“It’s not what you think.” You internally cursed yourself for how cliche that sounded. 

“No? Enlighten me then.” He sat up straight like a judge awaiting your testimony from a convicted criminal. 

“Rafe has issues…okay. Stuff at home, and he’s never known how to cope on his own–”

“Oh right, so that’s where you come into play. Are your lips like some magical cure for interpersonal issues?” He queried cynically. 

“Would you shut up and listen!” This time, he reared back at your outburst, “That night he was really out of it. I’m talking delirious, like some rabid dog. He kissed me, not the other way round, and I stopped it because it didn't feel right… and because I liked you.”

You could see the cogs churning in Thomas's mind as he absorbed your words, taking the time to process each one. With a gentle gaze, he met your eyes, his expression softening into an apologetic smile.

 “I see. This all happened before we got together?” 

“Yes, of course it was before. I would never do something like that to you,” His drop in hostility spurred you to lean forward, dragging his warm limbs into your embrace, “I promise.” 

Surely this would be the end of it. It had to be. Everything was out in the open, and miscommunications cleared. But when you pulled back, his guilty grimace told you otherwise. 

“There’s something else I have to tell you.”

vii.

Ring. 

Ring. 

Ring. 

Ring. 

Another fervid sob was ripped from your maw. You burned from within, rife with malice clawing up your raw oesophagus till it was raw and prying through your lips in ugly bated breaths. You allowed a moment to pass before trying again. 

Ring. 

Ring. 

Ring. 

…

“You ignore my fuckin’ texts and now you wanna talk.”

“Rafe,” Your cracked voice butchered the syllables of his name, sounding almost unrecognisable. Pathetic. “Can I see you?”

Not even 10 seconds later a notification appeared on your phone. He’d shared his location, some vaguely familiar residence on the outskirts of your neighbourhood. 

“What–”

“I’ll see you soon.”

Being vulnerable wasn’t your forte, nor was it Rafe’s, and there was no doubt he was currently perplexed by your sudden change of heart. But tonight, you needed someone. And that’s how you found yourself stepping into a stranger's house at 12:45 am, scouring the misty rooms in search of a familiar burly figure. 

A low whistle piqued your attention. Topper emerged from the kitchen as you were passing by, two red solo cups in his possession. “Didn’t expect to see you here, not that I’m complaining.”

His eyes quickly swept over your frame, the respectful gentleman he was. You couldn’t contain your scoff. Even in black track pants and a muted pink top… guys really could be attracted to anything as long as it walked on two hind legs. 

“Bit cliche, don’t you think, Top.” You retorted with a halfhearted snort, gesturing to the cups. What was this, a freshman's first house party?

He rolled his eyes, extending one to you. The nefarious liquid sloshed over the rim and you shook your head. “Uh, no I’m good, thanks.”

He fixed you with a pointed look. “It looks like you could use it.”

With a huff, you snatched the cup from him, to which he chuckled. “I hate how you’re always right.”

He began to ferry you toward Kelce and their gaggle of friends who huddled around a small coffee table in the living room, passing a clumsily rolled joint between them. When Kelce’s wide-set brown eyes landed on you, he abruptly stood, knocking the table's contents in doing so as he manhandled you into his side. 

“How’s my favourite girl doing?”

He balanced the joint between two fingers, residual smoke clung to his body in a damp sheen. Your eyes watered as you suppressed a cough, “Fine, until I caught a whiff of you.”

“C’mon, nothing takes the edge off like a good toke.” He waved it in front of your face, an offer, snorting as your face contorted into a grimace. 

“As great as that sounds,” You pushed his arm off its perch on your shoulder with a bitter smile. “Is Rafe here?”

“Yeah, pretty sure he went upstairs.” His hand absentmindedly flicked toward the staircase and you quickly excused yourself before they could become too attached to your presence.

The ambience upstairs was much more quaint than below, mainly consisting of couples who split off from their respective groups. A few were making out, some others collapsed asleep on the furnished floorboards; typical party antics reminding you as to why you generally avoided these places. 

The walk from your house had cooled your system, remedying your flighty instincts ever so slightly. This you were thankful for, as upon opening the final door along the lengthy hallway, you were met with Rafe’s determined gaze, and you knew he would demand answers.

“Been messaging you.” The mattress creaked as he lifted his weight off its surface. His gait was straight and steady, and this was perhaps the closest to sober you’d seen him in a long time.

“I know, I just wanted to see you in person.” Despite your best efforts, the burning of your eyes became so overbearing and you fought to hold back the overwhelming emotions coursing through your veins. It was like the moment someone asks if you're okay when it's obvious you're not, the floodgates open and emotions come crashing down around you in an unrelenting wave.

“Hey hey hey, what the fuck happened to you?” He rushed over, forcing you to face him with a firm grip on your shoulders. 

“It doesn’t matter.” 

“The fuck it does,” His hands rubbed over his face exasperatedly as though he were controlling the urge to be rougher with you and extract an answer forcefully. “You can’t call me all hysterically crying and shit then give me nothing. Did someone hurt you? Did Thomas do something?”

The mere mention of his name sent you spiralling even further. “Alright, come on, sit down.” Rafe didn’t give you much of an option, dragging you to the bed in an iron grip and then forcing you onto the black sheets as he sat beside you. 

“What happened?” 

“It’s Thomas.” You affirmed solemnly. 

 “I’ll kill him.” He seethed through his teeth and your head violently shook. 

“No, no I won’t tell you if that’s how you’re gonna respond.” He went to ark up but you interrupted him before he had the chance. “Rafe, I'm serious.”

“I’ll decide for myself once you tell me.”

With a heavy sigh, you finally conceded. “Do you remember that one girl from my theatre club? The diva one?”

“Who?” 

“Cindy! Blonde hair, beautiful. She was in your year level.”

Rafe’s brows furrowed in confusion. “I seriously don’t know who the fuck that is.”

“Whatever, it doesn’t matter. Anyway, before me and Thomas started…dating, I found out he had a thing for her for quite some time.”

“So?”

“Jesus- just let me finish!” He reluctantly relented, nodding for you to continue. “Since you’re so impatient, I’ll tell you the short version: Thomas stopped liking her then me and him started dating. He thought we had something going on secretly and confided in Cindy…then he used that to justify sleeping with her.”

The silence that followed was like dust settling back onto the road; static but still very much disturbed. 

“What.” 

“There’s nothing else to say.” You croaked, dabbing your sodden eyes on your sleeve.

Not a moment later he shot up, pacing back and forth a few times before submitting to the battle raging in his head and storming toward the door. “Rafe, no you promised me–”

“I didn’t promise you shit!” He whipped back around to face you, face wild with fury. “That motherfucker is gonna get what’s coming for him!”

“RAFE.” His cheeks were ablaze as you cupped them in your hands, eyes darting around sporadically as though he were high on adrenaline. “Please, I need you right now. What happens next is for another time. Let it rest.”

His nostrils flared as he finally met your eyes. You pulled him closer, sensing your words were having an effect, softly whispering another plea– and it was like deja vu when his lips met yours for the second time. Only it wasn’t. As he pressed himself firmly against you, unyielding in his advance, you realised this was truly happening again… and to your horror, it felt nice. 

In fact, you didn’t want it to stop. 

In the time you’d been together with…Thomas…the intimate experiences you shared allowed you to act with heightened confidence, no longer feeling the need to skittishly paw at his chest like a bunny caught by the big bad wolf. Now you moved with your own validity, placing your hands upon his taut chest and following the pace he set. 

His palm suddenly clamped down on your ass and you gasped into his mouth, surprised. Thomas was a respectful lover, never so daring, but Rafe’s impulsivity stirred a concoction of excitement and nervousness within your belly. 

He took this window of opportunity to dip the tip of his tongue into your mouth. Testing the waters at first, and when you showed no signs of disapproval, delving full throttle. “Shit,” He groaned, using his grip on your lower half as leverage to guide you backwards. 

Your libidinous scrambled brain only registered his intention when the backs of your knees came into contact with the bed, instigating your loss of balance. A pathetic squeak floated from your throat as you fell onto the soft confinements of whoever's sheets these were. 

Rafe didn’t hesitate to slot himself between your parted knees, crawling over your limp body like a predator readying itself to ravage a meal. His head dipped into the crevice of your neck, planting strategically placed kisses and sucking on the tender flesh, subsequently sowing the seeds of your growing excitement. 

But as he remained in that position– feverish palms exploring your clothed body, hot enough to burn through the fabric –your heart began to race. Why did you feel a shudder of anticipation run down your spine? What if he were to stop and really look at you? Why were you scared?

It wasn't until he gained the confidence to explore the curve of your body beneath the fabric that you jolted back into reality, your heart racing and breath catching in your throat.

“Wait!” He peeled himself off of you with an expectant look, blown pupils peeved by your interruption. “I’ve, uh-... never done this before.”

You whispered it, timorously, ashamed even. 

You were expecting rejection, after all, that was the only response you ever received from Thomas. What you weren’t expecting, however, was his lips to twitch up in a haughty smirk, his desire for you not faltering whatsoever. You would even go as far as to say that the gleam that appeared in his eyes indicated that he found this revelation rather pleasing. 

“You trust me?” 

Your nod was automatic like a reflex, saving you from mulling over the question too deeply. In response he sat back on his thighs, swatting away your hands which had fallen to your stomach (perhaps subconsciously attempting to create a separation between the two of you) allowing him to slide your loose shirt above your navel and then over your chest, the material bunching around your neck. He marvelled at the exposed skin, tentatively brushing over your stomach causing you to squirm at the new sensation. 

“Then lay back and relax, sweetheart.” 

From then on, the sequence of events was a blur; a tangle of limbs and a symphony of noises all coming together to form an incoherent memory. 

Your shirt was the first to come off, followed shortly by his. Rafe’s bare chest was nothing you hadn’t seen before, but in this context, your vision was obscured by a rose tint. His sculpted biceps flexed as he worked on tugging your pants down and you couldn’t help but notice the way he tucked his lower lip between his teeth in concentration or the dewy sheen covering his skin. 

It was akin to looking into a kaleidoscope for the first time and not knowing where to cast your gaze.

“If he thinks he can hurt you like this,” His firm lips danced across your throat.“Then he’s got another thing coming.” 

He spoke in a harsh growl, hooking his fingers beneath the straps of your bra and dragging them down in one sweeping motion. 

You squeaked in shock, heat blossoming beneath your cheeks at the abrupt exposure of your tits. Your tingling nipples quickly began to harden, and you weren’t sure if this was due to the draft slipping through the slightly ajar window or the firm attention Rafe was paying to your flesh. 

Nonetheless, your arms instinctively twitched upwards, preparing to cover yourself from his prying eyes. He anticipated this, however, promptly collecting your wrists and pinning them beside your head. 

“Don’t, don’t do that.” His voice exploded into a vehement tone. “I don’t even remember who that bitch is, let alone what she looks like…think that’s saying something.” 

Before your short-circuiting brain could formulate a response, his lips descended upon your chest, laving at one of the sensitive buds before sucking on it harshly. Your body reacted viscerally, flailing at the newfound stimulation. You mewled, squirming, as he pulled away with a breathless chuckle.

“See what a girl like you does to a man.” He forced one of your hands down to his boxers. Your eyes widened as you felt how hard he was, and you let out a soft gasp as he throbbed around your palm.

“Feel that? Yeah, that’s all you baby.”

“Rafe, ple–” Your breath hitched as his knee drove forward, the delicious pressure nudging into your clothed core. 

“Go on, I want to hear you say it.” 

“Please…”

“Already speechless? That’s cute.” His words had you shrinking in on yourself, trying to flee from the heat radiating off his body. “It’s alright, I know what you need.”

While your racing thoughts kept you occupied (as well as demanding lips), you were oblivious to the fact that Rafe had removed his knee from between your legs, opting to slink his deft fingers inside the flimsy cotton of your underwear. That was, of course, until you felt something foreign swiping against your most sensitive area, teasingly prodding at the tight entrance. You flinched, shuddering beneath the unfamiliarity of his touch.

“I’m gonna fuck you now, is that okay?”

Your head bobbed up and down ardently, voice tiny and breathless and he grinned. “Ok.”

“Okay then.” 

Your body fell in and out of consciousness, wrecked from a night filled with both pleasure and anguish. When you finally woke up, it was well into the night. The heavy breaths falling onto you from behind drowned out the eerie silence of the house. A gust of wind howled through the night sky, and your naked form shivered as the cold managed to slither beneath the sheets.

Rafe’s arm laid heavy across your waist. Anchoring you down as though— even in sleep —he was paranoid you’d slip away. You carefully lifted his arm, halting as his breathing accelerated before replacing your warmth with a pillow.

The first step went surprisingly smoothly… but that must’ve been a fluke as what came next was nearly debilitating. 

An aching pang shot up between your legs, sharp and sudden. You gasped, clutching onto the bed frame for support. The sensation wasn’t extremely painful, rather unpleasant and even worse it acted as a punishing reminder of the choices you’d made tonight. 

What you just did.  

Fumbling around the floor on all fours was equally deplorable and you now understood what others meant when they described the after-fact as a ‘walk of shame.’ 

You eventually located your pants, desperately patting them down to find your phone. The screen flashed on when you pulled it out of the pocket and you hissed as the harsh light penetrated your retinas, a dull throb settling between your eyes.

There was a flurry of texts from Thomas. Apologies, explanations, and pleas for a response. He’d left your house without much resistance earlier in the evening as you cried for him to do so, but it seemed he wasn’t giving up on you so easily. 

Your heart clenched painfully, and it was as though all of the synapses in your brain fired at once; What have you done?

A pool of saliva formed within your mouth, stomach suddenly churned. You stumbled across the floor, making a beeline for the ensuite as your throat heaved. In a matter of seconds after collapsing on the floor before the toilet, you were vomiting into the bowl. Violent hurls that only subsided once you were completely empty. 

Could you be any more putrid? 

The facet rasped as you turned it, a steady flow of water filling the bathtub as you rinsed out the vile taste in your mouth. It was bitingly cold as you slowly lowered each aching limb into the water, sighing in relief as your body acclimatised and began to relax. 

When you were on the cusp of sleep once again, you started cleaning yourself. Scrubbing your skin raw with soapy suds until the water turned a sickening pink and you felt sick for the second time that night. 

You dipped below the water and watched as bubbles rose to the surface.

viii.

Everything was becoming surreal. 

In half an hour your given moniker would be permanently altered. It was the ‘essence of your identity’ your mother would say, but you’d never been particularly sentimental about it. This likely stemmed from your childhood, as in the mind of a little girl, it was only a means to an end. You used to long for a prince mounted upon a dark stallion to come and sweep you off your feet with promises of a perfect future; all that was required in exchange was a simple change of your name. 

Of course, reality hit like a truck when you learnt that there weren’t enough princes around for each little girl in the world. But still, perhaps your expectations had been too high. 

Mrs. Hughes.

Mrs. Hughes.

Mrs. Hughes. 

There was a certain ring to it that you couldn’t quite pinpoint, similar to when you found a puzzle piece that looks right, but it isn’t the exact fit.   

After kicking everyone out of the room, you’d spent the last fifteen minutes distracting yourself by mulling over your appearance. The seamstress did everything she could to preserve the original cut of the dress but was ultimately forced to make it backless due to the inflexible time constraint.

Despite the reassuring gushes you’d received from the bridesmaids, you couldn’t help but feel exposed. The material that once clung taut against your curves now flowed freely in all its feathered glory, displaying the tender expanse of your back to all those who cared to witness. 

A firm knock reverberated off the oak door and your lips pinched down in a small frown; you’d been explicit in your desire to be alone.

You cracked the door ajar, bewildered to be met with the familiar blue orbs of the eldest Cameron upon peeking out into the hallway. His pale blue suit was neatly pressed and tailored to his body, a black bow tie complimenting the look, making him appear youthful.

“...What are you doing?” You whispered incredulously, glancing to each side of the empty corridor.

He flashed you a grin, holding up a long-neck bottle with a pretty red ribbon wrapped around it like a noose. “Wanted to say my congratulations. I’m guessing you’ll be a bit tied up later on.”

“You’re not supposed to be here,” His head tilted to the left in confusion and you sighed, “It’s bad luck.”

He hummed, smirk grew patronising as he deadpanned; “I thought that rule only applied to the groom?” 

“Is this for me?” You chose to ignore his previous remark, gesturing to the bottle he still held in his possession. 

“Yeah. Rose wanted to give it to you herself but she was more than happy to let me do so when I offered.” You knew what he was hinting at; she missed having you around to keep her stepson in line. You didn’t know why you were surprised, it was in the Cameron's DNA to stoop to sly tactics.

"Mind if I come in?" Your reluctance must’ve been evident by your unwavering grip on the door. He rolled his eyes, voice now tinged with a touch of condescension. "C’mon. One last hurrah, that’s all I ask for."

What can five minutes hurt? Then hopefully he’ll leave you alone for the rest of the night. “Alright, fine, but make it quick.” 

You clicked the door shut, aimlessly lingering by the window as he lined up two of the clean champagne glasses left over from the earlier celebrations. The side seams of his suit tapered around his shoulders, extenuating the strain of his muscles and they rippled beneath the fabric. You averted your gaze, choosing to fix it on a lone swan floating out on the lake instead. 

“Thought I should say,” He turned to face you as he removed the cork with surprising ease, the stopper not even popping as it was released. “You look beautiful.” 

You snorted, brushing over a crease in the thick curtain. “That’s just custom speaking.”

He seemed genuinely miffed by your comment, mouth hanging open with a small huff. “That right there is proof that no one takes me seriously, I mean it.”

“Well thanks, I appreciate it. I did end up fitting into the dress so, guess I proved you wrong.”

His brows furrowed as the cardinal liquid poured into the glass. “Don’t tell me you took that to heart? I was just fuckin’ with you.”

“Yeahhhh, I know.”

He brought the two glasses over by the stem, passing the one which was filled exceptionally fuller to you. 

“Going easy?” 

“Designated driver.” He affirmed, leaning against the opposite side of the window frame. 

Your mouth opened, a soft ‘ah’ flicking off your tongue. “I must say I’m surprised and impressed.”

With a humoured scoff, his eyes rolled to the back of his head. “Alright, it’s your special day, what are we toasting to?”

You stilled for a moment, scouring your mind for something appropriate to say. When it came to you, you grinned: “May you be in heaven a full half-hour before the devil knows you’re dead.”

He hummed in approval before extending his arm to meet your glass somewhere in the middle.

“Cheers to that.” You said in unison, falling silent as you downed the entirety of your drink– it was your day after all, so fuck it, you were going to need some liquid courage to make it through the coming hours. 

The drink was shockingly sweet, oozing down your throat like a hot teaspoon of honey and you grimaced. “What is this?” 

Rafe shrugged, placing his untouched glass down. “Some guy who distils it himself. Disgusting, right?”

“That’s an understatement.”           

Words died in the air between you, lost and forgotten as a thick silence surrounded you both. The energy within the room grew dense, tensions steadily simmering and only increasing in intensity. You squirmed in your position, noticing as Rafe grew fidgety; something was dancing on the tip of his tongue, ready to be released. 

“Remember when I told you that your mum was worried ‘bout you?”

“...Yeah.” How could you forget, his drunken induced admission which soon followed still haunted your psyche. 

“Was-uh…was any of that true about you acting strangely?”

“Your timing is truly impeccable.” Any of the previous lightness was sponged from your tone, replaced by defensive shrill which was painful to your own ears. 

“I’m just sayin’, it’s good to get this shit out in the open before everything is finalised, don’t you think?” He began to gesticulate with his hands, flapping motions which were distracting. 

“There’s nothing to ‘get out.’ I’ve had my doubts, but that’s normal. My mind is clear now.” You stated firmly, struggling to believe that he would have the audacity to question your decision just as it was about to come to fruition. 

“Is it?” His words carried a soft almost sympathetic note, as though you were a child and he was trying not to upset you. 

“Is it what?” 

“Is it normal to have doubts? I mean that reaction before didn’t seem very convincing to me.”He let his breath out in a soft sigh as your gaze remained defensive, backed into a corner like pitiful prey. “You see what this is telling me? That you don’t know how to make a decision that’s good for you.”

Your head was reeling, throbbing as the lights intensified, the artificial brightness causing you to squint. You were struggling to think, let alone formulate a sentence. All you could conjure up was a childish response: “Shut up, shut up.”

The room tilted as you abruptly stood, staggering forward like a limp doll. You were on a rollercoaster, extremities weighed down by the impressive force of gravity. Rafe caught you before you could collapse, supporting your nape against his chest. Confusion ebbed through your veins as you clung to him, a delicate whimper falling from your lips.

“Steady now.”

“Wha…” Your heart thumped realising how slurred your speech had become. 

His hand drummed along the exposed skin, shushing your protests. “It's okay,” a soft and hungry whisper. He drew the zipper down. An expanse of naked, supple skin awaited. A fresh carcass, ready for the taking. 

“I'm prepared to make that decision for you.”

[prettybabybaby]

tw: noncon (drunk reader). i'm rusty so if this is horrible i'm sorry.

being best friends with rafe and going partying with him. he always promises that he'll watch over you, and he does. he'd never let anyone but him get close to you while drunk. rafe loves how the drunker you get, the more you hang onto him, the more you sleepily burying yourself against him, and the less you notice his wandering hands.

you curl up on his lap, trying to tell him a story but rarely making sense. as his hands slide up your skirt, pinching at your thighs and brushing up against your panties as you laugh at the feeling. once you get so drunk that your fully his. he takes your pliant body somewhere private, usually in his cars, and pushes up your skimpy dress and starts fucking you. still tenderly holding you despite his rough thrust. he loves the little gurgles and moans the come out of your hazy self.

his favorite times is when you're just out of it enough not to fully know whats happening. still aware enough to know it's rafey. he loves hearing you slur his name against his neck while you hug onto him, telling him how much you love him. as he slowly grinds your hips against him, pushing his cock deeper into you.

afterward, he cleans you up. you wake up sometimes asking him what he's doing, and he assures you that you dropped your drink on yourself. silly little drunk girl! and you always believe him. letting him wipe away the cum that you think is alcohol. then he takes you home, and continues to let his hands wander if your out of it enough, while others he holds back your hair while throwing up in the toilet. always ready to tell people the next day how sweet rafe is to take care of his friend like that.

<3

rafe giving you more and more drinks to make sure he gets you where he wants you.

"c'mon it's one night. you know you want to..." he says, holding the drink close to your lips. "i won't let anyone touch you. just me."

[aphroditelovesu]

HOLY ANGEL, I NEED SOMETHING FOR OUTER BANKS. What would it be like if JJ had a sister, and on top of that, that sister fell in love with Rafe Cameron? What if that love was reciprocated? the lion falls in love by the lamb! Can you imagine what it would be like if Rafe didn't follow his father's plans, and for love he dropped everything and followed like a Pogue?? Maybe I need headcanons for that.

''For you I'd go to the ends of the earth.'' - Rafe Cameron.

❝ 💰 — lady l: I absolutely loved this idea and finally found your request after finding this headcanon in my notebook lol. I hope you like it and forgive me any mistakes! ❤️

❝tw: obsessive and possessive behavior, slight mention of strangling someone in their sleep, underage drinking.

❝💰pairing: yandere!rafe cameron x jj maybank!sister.

From the beginning, before you met the rest of the group, it's always been you and him. It was always you and JJ against the world. And the world against you. Nothing and no one was more important than the bond you shared with your big brother.

You were everything to each other. Having been abandoned by your mother and your father being an asshole and a violent alcoholic, JJ has always been your safe haven and he will always be there for you, come what may. It had always been the two of you and he hoped it would stay that way.

You were introduced to his friends and it wasn't long before they became your friends too, all just as nice and protective as your brother. They soon became your and JJ's family, although he resented this at first as he feared losing you, he soon warmed to the idea of you all being family.

Everything was perfect. You didn't have much but you were happy with the pogues, you all had fun and loved each other that it seemed like nothing could interfere. JJ being protective and impulsive as always, John B the fearless and sometimes a stupid leader, Pope being the most altruistic and intelligent of the group, Kiara being the kindest and most supportive and Sarah being the messiest but loyal to her friends. Everything was perfect until you met Rafe Cameron.

You had only seen him from a distance, you had never approached him on your brother's orders and you never dared to disobey him, especially when you learned that he had tried to murder his own sister and that was enough to make you want to stay away from him. Except you didn't. During the bonfire party, you had drunk more than you should have and ended up getting lost from your friends, also drunk and stoned, you ended up getting away from the noise a little and that's where you finally met the infamous Rafe Cameron.

At first, you didn't recognize him and just kept quiet while he talked to you. You just agreed with what he said, completely inconsequential of what he said and that was the opening he needed to kiss you. Rafe's lips against yours were soft and gentle, he pulled you closer and caressed your waist possessively. Needless to say, he didn't stop at just one kiss.

Rafe has become even more obsessed with you than he already was. He already knew you from a distance but he never dared get too close, not with your brother watching you constantly and he knew that Sarah had said things about him to you, although it infuriated him, he didn't want to risk scaring you so he remained watching from a distance, waiting for the right moment to strike, and that moment finally arrived at the bonfire party. Though simply dressed, you still looked stunning to him and Rafe felt maddeningly jealous every time another man approached you, only to be pushed away by JJ. It was the first and last time he thanked JJ for being so protective of you. And when you finally broke away from your group of friends, he had his chance and when you kissed, it was like something snapped inside Rafe and he knew, in that very moment, that you were his.

He found himself more and more enchanted by you and soon you began a hidden relationship after some post-bonfire dates. But it wasn't enough for him, he wanted more, he wanted all of you and not having to hide your love from the others. The warm, hidden nights weren't enough for him. Rafe needed, he wanted and he would make you official. All chaos erupted one night when you were out with your friends drinking and talking, when Rafe showed up, alerting everyone. No wonder Rafe Cameron always meant trouble.

When he announced you two were dating, silence fell over the group. That is, until JJ got up and started fighting with Rafe. Your brother was furious, furious that he, this kook, dared to blatantly lie about you. As if you, his little sister, could get involved with a preppy guy like him. He only stopped fighting Rafe when Pope and John B's efforts were successful and horror settled on JJ's face when you took it and touched Rafe and told him it was true. JJ almost broke down right there.

Your brother freaked out for good, he yelled at you, for the first time in his life, he fought with you. Yelling things like how stupid you were for getting involved with Rafe and threatening to kill your boyfriend. You cringed at the screaming and Rafe, bruised and bleeding, pulled you into a hug, while trying to control himself not to kill your brother right then and there. He could kill JJ, but that would be too much trouble and there's you. Rafe isn't delusional enough to think that if he murder your brother, you'll stay with him. So Rafe kept himself in check, protecting you and when JJ finally stopped screaming, Rafe started talking and left everyone stunned and scared with his words.

That he loved you, he loved you more than he could put into words and he wanted to be with you. Make you happy, be yours forever. That he wanted to become a pogue to be with you. Even you couldn't believe his words, but Rafe was serious, too serious to be joking. He had argued with his father a few hours earlier, Ward didn't approve of your relationship, and Rafe freaked out at his father. The problem, for Ward, wasn't that you were a pogue but whose sister you were, who your friends were. Rafe didn't accept Ward's words and threatened his own father, he wanted you, he didn't care about the bloody Royal Merchant gold or the Cross anymore, all Rafe wanted was you, something so simple but unacceptable for his father . So Rafe, against everything he'd ever wanted, rebelled against his father for good, he disowned himself and decided that if, to have you, he had to become a miserable pogue, as his sister did, he would.

Your family did not accept this at first. They all didn't trust or like Rafe, understandable considering everything he'd done for them, but Rafe was willing to try to fit in with the group, for you. It wasn't the kind of life he was used to, but just having you in it made him feel a little more comfortable. It was hard for them to fully accept him into the group and even after a while the others still didn't trust him, but they were trying for you. It took JJ a long time to get close to Rafe without feeling like strangling him in his sleep, but eventually and after much prodding from you, JJ gave Rafe a chance, although he kept an eye on him and made it very clear that if Rafe hurt you somehow, Rafe will be a dead man. Adjusting hasn't been easy and yet Rafe has a hard time dealing with everything, but for you, he's willing to go to the ends of the earth.

[amber-michaelson]

Behind Their Backs

Yandere Rafe Cameron x JJ's pregnant older sister x Yandere Topper Thornton

Summary: after ignoring them for months they've finally found you

Read at own risk

Warning: kidnapping

3rd person pov

It was a mistake it never should have happened now you have to lie to everyone you care about because you made a mistake

You had to take extra hours working the Kiara's restaurants having to take up cleaning up some kooks houses while having to hide from the prowling boys you hated most it was so hard to ignore but what could you do you just have to get through this.

▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎Flash back (your pov)▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎

"Rafe please" I moaned as he and topper thrusted into me rafe was stroking and pinching my clit so I couldn't cum "you know what you have to say babe" topper chuckled and squeezed my breast "oh god" I cried pushing more into them I wanted them so bad even if it's wrong "come on say it" rafe growled and pinched harder "ok I'm your little Pogue whore ok" I yelled throwing my head against topper shoulder breathing heavily "that's our girl".

And a few weeks later I got a pregnancy test and it came back positive "shit".

▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎Present▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎

"Hey sis can I borrow some money" jj smiled as he came to me as soon as I walked inside "jj I'm soo tired what for" I muttered putting my stuff down and the groceries in the kitchen "I just need to get a little something for someone" he winked "jj I've been working all day and all week this money's supposed help my child" I said pointing at my growing belly "well its the least you can do since I'm also going to have to deal with it" he murmured leaning onto the counter he was getting on my last nerves "do you think I wanted this to happen no I di-" "when then you shouldn't have been such a whore" he muttered running his hands through his hair "out" I muttered "yn i-" "I said get out" I shouted and pointed towards the door, he sighed and left quietly leaving me to myself it was my little house and he can not speak to me like that "your already causing shit you little devil" I murmured rubbing my belly I could never really hate my child it wasn't their fault and I always wanted children but not right now and not their fathers I walked into the little nursery I made for them and sat in the rocking chair in the corner and took out my phone 'should at least tell Sarah' she was my best friend and the only kook I actually get along with even tho my brother kinda despises her I phoned her but it went to voice mail "hey Sarah um I know it's late or your busy but please come over I need to speak with you really bad" my voice was becoming a bit shakey I can't keep this to myself anymore I leaned my head against the chair and decided to take a small nap.

Rafe's pov

I walked round the house and noticed Sarah's phone 'don't mind if I do' I unlocked her phone with ease and saw a missed call "now who would be needing you Sarah" I clicked on it and the voice note started playing "hey Sarah" my throat hitched hearing her voice "I know it's late and your busy but please come over" she sounded scared 'was she in danger' millions of thoughts were running through my head "I need to speak with you really bad" I threw the phone down as soon as it ended and ran to my car dialing topper as I got in "be ready I'm coming to pick you up" I muttered and hung up I sped off, we've been trying to get to her but it's like she disappeared off the face of the earth and now we've finally found her.

yn pov

i sighed stretching out my arms as i sleepily stood up  I slowly wondered into the kitchen but stopped dead in my tracks "we finally got you" rafe growled as someone came up behind me and covered my mouth with a clothe which made me ever sleepy "your ours" was the last thing I heard before blacking out.

Rafe pov

I cooed at her sleeping figure as we layed her in the back of my car "where are we taking her" topper asked "somewhere far away where no one can disturb our new family" I chuckled kissing her cheek one last time before shutting the boot

My Other Outer Banks Works

Check Out My Other Works

[sharararararara]

Sick.

Pairing: Dark Rafe Cameron x sick reader.

Warnings: Dark Rafe, manipulation, Rafe kinda scolding you, fluff(sorta), drugging.( If you see wrong grammar ignore it)

"I told you that you were gonna get sick, but of course, you didn't listen to me." Said Rafe, putting a wet towel on your forehead.

"It's not that bad," you replied, trying to hold in your cough. Rafe sighed, rubbing his temple. "I told you not to go swimming at the beach with those Pogues," said Rafe, grumbling after mentioning the word "Pogues." "It was only for a few hours Rafe," you replied, pulling the blanket to cover your chest. Rolling his eyes, he stood up and exited your room, leaving you with yourself.

You coughed, covering your mouth with your hand as you silently prayed that Rafe did not hear it or else he would make it a reason why you should not "leave his side."

Rafe opened the door with a tray in hand. "Here, I made this," said Rafe, putting the tray on the table next to your bed.

"I don't want to eat right now," you said making him sigh. "You do know that I can't give you medicine if you don't eat right? The Doctor said it himself, said Rafe, making you remember the Doctors words saying "Not to take the medicine with an empty stomach."

You sighed, "fine," you said, grabbing the tray from the table and placing it on your lap. It was soup, it had spring onions, bits of chicken, and vegetables.

You took a small sip of the soup, analysing the taste. "Why is it bitter?" you asked, turning your head to Rafe. "Must be the vegetables," Said Rafe, as he shrugged. You sighed, took your spoon again, and continued to eat your bitter soup.

Even though the soup was somehow bitter, you were grateful that Rafe took the time and effort to actually make food. You don't even remember the last time he made something, or if he even made anything.

"You know we could have been on our date right now if you weren't sick," started Rafe, making eye contact with you. You looked down, slightly embrasured that you were the reason that the date was cancceled.

"Sorry," you softly said, slowly chewing the chicken bits. "It's fine baby, just listen to me next time and maybe this won't happen again," said Rafe as he tucked a hair behind your ear.

You felt a bad feeling about what Rafe said, but you simply ignore that feeling.

Suddenly you felt sleepy, "Rafe I'm kinda sleepy," you said, yawning. "Really? You did not even finish your soup yet," said Rafe.

His words did not reach your ears, your eyes already closing as sleep consumes you.

Rafe sighed, "I guess Barry wasn't lying about the drugs being strong," said Rafe as he smirked.

Rafe leaned forward, placing a kiss on your forehead. "I won't let you go out ever again, you will stay beside me forever," whispered Rafe, stroking your head gently.

Now you knew why the soup was bitter.

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

Permission

Pairing: Dark Rafe Cameron x (female) Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

SUMMARY: If Rafe doesn’t want you to go somewhere, that’s what you should do. Except you don’t. 

WARNINGS: Toxic Relation; Domestic Violence/Abuse

Please, reblog and give me feedback.

--

“She’s not going.” 

You and Sarah groan at the same time, eyes flicking to the door where Rafe stands. 

“Stop snooping, Rafe! And get out of my room.” Sarah throws a pillow at her brother but he barely pays attention to her, his stare directed at you. 

You cross your arms, annoyed. 

“What?” 

His eyebrows raise at your snappy reaction and he puts his hands on the pockets, his hair messy. 

“I said that you are not going.” he repeats, voice layed with determination.

Giving Sarah a small apologetic smile, you leave her room, not bothering to look at Rafe as you head for his room. Plopping onto his bed, you reach for your phone but as soon as you touch it, Rafe snatches it. 

“Can you stop being so annoying?” you glare at your boyfriend, but he only smirks. 

You curse as Rafe takes the phone away from your reach. 

“Say you’re not going.” he insists. “Say it and I’ll give it back.” 

You throw your hands in the air.

“Why are you being so pushy about it? What’s wrong with going to a party?” 

He squints his eyes at you and you can already guess what’s coming.

“It’s not just some party, is it? It’s a fucking Pogue party, filled with them.” you can almost taste the disgust in Rafe’s words, his lips curling downwards. 

“...and I don’t want you near Sarah’s friends. They’re bad news. Especially that John B guy … and JJ.” 

“Well, that’s not your decision to make, babe.” You push yourself off the bed, but he grabs your arm, swirling you towards the bed. You squeal, falling down and you’re about to yell at him when his hand wraps around your neck. 

Your hand instantly claws at it, the increasing pressure making you feel uncomfortable. Rafe’s lips only curl into a half-smile, dodging your attempts to knee him. 

“Don’t make me repeat myself, yeah, baby?” his tone darkens as he looms over you “You’re not going to that stupid party. Understood?” 

You feel the tears burning in your eyes as you frantically nod, a shaken breath escaping your lips when Rafe releases your throat. 

Touching the sensitive skin, you look up at Rafe, an unbothered expression glued to his face as he looks at you. He throws your phone to the bed, winking at you.

“See? It wasn’t that hard, was it?”

"Oh shit.” 

You follow Pope’s eyes and turn around. Your body freezes on the spot, eyes rounding up as you catch the sight of Rafe exiting his truck, his head moving as he looks around, a pissed off look plastered on his face. 

You’re screwed. 

“Isn’t that your boy, Rafe? What the hell is he doing here?” Pope asks and you dive, hiding behind his figure. Rafe was starting to create a ruckus shouting your name, Topper and Kelce with him.

Their presence makes you nervous and you decide it’s time to skip the party before anything more dramatic happens. 

“You know what, I think I’m just gonna head home and-” you yelp as your arm is roughly pulled.

You barely have time to say anything before you’re being dragged away and you wouldn’t even have to look to know that it’s Rafe. 

“Rafe, stop! You’re hurting me!” your pleas don’t stop Rafe, all the bystanders shocked yet no one daring to intervene, moving away from you. 

You trip on your own feet and end up colliding against Rafe’s body. You whine, pleading with him to slow down but your boyfriend seems to have gone mad. 

He pushes you inside his truck without a word and as he walks to the drivers side, you look through the window, catching Sarah and JJ heading your way. You shake your head at them, they’re too far and you doubt that Rafe would enjoy them interfering. 

The truck starts and soon you’re on the road, small sniffles from you filling the space. 

“You didn’t have to do that.” 

Rafe’s fingers tighten around the wheel, turning white. 

“I told you not to go to the party, didn’t I?” he starts “If you fucking listened to me, then this wouldn’t have happened. You only have yourself to blame.” 

You bury your nails in your bare thigh, despair starting to hit you. Without a second thought, you grab the handle, forgetting about the moving car. 

It doesn’t work, Rafe quickly grabbing your hair, aggressively tugging you back inside. Both of you fight and you scratch his hand, crying out. 

“Fucking hell, Y/N.” 

The car stops, and you barely have time to process what was going on before your cheek implodes with pain, your face turned to the side with the impact. The bruising grip hurting your scalp as he uses it to recline your face. 

He closes in, his features molding a scowl. 

“I don’t think you fucking understand. I say, you obey. As simple as that.” he tugs on your hair, a reminder of his power over you and a tear slips from your eye. 

“And I swear to god that if you push it one more time, baby, I’m gonna fucking destroy this pretty face of yours.”

[faetreides]

summary: situationship!rafe cameron x afab nerd!reader

cw: angst undertones w/ a hopeful ending, black cat!coded reader x whatever rafe would be, suggestive action in the shower & mentions of off screen nsfw (cum and thigh fucking but the latter is a bit more graphic lol) , class differences, rafe is pathetic and weird, implied drug use, rafe beats a man but you can decide if he killed him, reader has implied mental health issues and low self esteem, ambiguous feelings on rafe’s part (he said ily but he could be lying), dark content themes, rafe calls reader kitty in both a mean way and a pet name way, if the thing with reader’s first crush sounds too real that’s cause it is 🤫, started my period while i was formatting this (i just thought y’all should know)

wc: 1.9k+

block & move on if uncomfortable !!!

consider commissioning me 🫀

“Hey, babe, would you be a good kitty and let me in?” Is what you’re greeted with when you swing open your screen door. Rafe Cameron looks pleased as punch, all things considered, soaking wet due to the pouring rain and no doubt high as a kite.

The slurred speech doesn’t alarm you as much as the river of blood flowing from his mouth.

“Jesus Christ, Rafe, what the fuck?” You try to sound harsh but the fuck is noticably softer than your other words and Rafe smiles, more blood drips down his chin.

You look over his shoulder to see his bike on its side in the dirt, it’s raining and you just know he’ll be pissed to see the mus clinging to it tomorrow. But for right now, you have an injured situationship to patch up.

He stumbles as you struggle to yank him aside, and he sways but collapses on your couch. You pinch the bridge of your nose, trying not to lose your shit immediately. The audacity of this man to waltz in on you barely alive and expect some twisted kind of comfort, after everything.

“I was studying you know, textbooks are expensive so don’t start getting your blood on them.”

“Don’t get your panties in a twist, I know.”

Rafe grunts but keeps his body away from your books. That’s the least he can do, the bare minimum. You sigh and walk over him, kneeling in front of the couch. His eyes are dazed and unfocused as you brush the hair away from his forehead, but his fingers twitch.

“Why did you come here, Rafe? To me?” You whisper, tired and unamused.

You’re startled by his harsh cough, his fingers twitch in your direction again, “ ‘Was nowhere else, wanted you.”

Isn’t that good enough?

You blink dumbly at that, but you have no answer for his crazed ramblings so you slap your knees and make your way to the bathroom. You procure a wet washcloth and some measly bandages, he would just have to deal with it. Rafe’s eyes drag towards you when you kneel back in front of him and bring the cloth to his mouth.

You avoid his stare as you sop up the copious amounts of blood, praying that this wouldn’t need a visit to the hospital. In some ways, you’ve seen too much blood since Rafe Cameron decided to make a mockery of your existence. The gaggle of rich girls he used to have on each arm disappeared but he excused it by detailing his plans to lead you on in front of his friends, checking to see if you were in ear shot.

There’s nothing you did, in your mind. You stuck to yourself and somehow invited the attention of some psycho. That’s the hardest part of the situation, you can’t pinpoint a true beginning. You can only remember being in this murky middle, devoid of an ending. Rafe does have a pretty face though, unfortunately, the water from cloth making his skin glisten. You’ll throw the rag out after this, there’s no point trying to get the stain of blood out of anything.

Eventually, you’re done with the first part and have an excuse to turn away from him. You get back on your feet to reach for the bandages but a groan coming from behind stops you. You turn around and freeze when Rafe buries his nose into your lower stomach, barely brushing the top of your mound over your pajama shorts. He hisses through his teeth in pain as he pushes your shirt up with his bloodied knuckles.

“Rafe Cameron, what the hell are you-“

“ ‘Smells good as fuck, love you.”

You refuse to admit that you love him too, you can’t give him that. Okay, now shit’s really getting out of hand. He dips his head to get closer to your pussy but the second you see the tip of his tongue touch your shorts, you direct his face back to your stomach. You’ve never gone further than ‘will they-won’t they’ type touches with Rafe, but you just can’t give in no matter how much you lie awake at night thinking about it.

“All this is because of you, you know that? You fucked me up and made pummel the crap outta that guy.” The vibrations his clumsy words send through you gives you a serious case of the shivers, so you distract yourself by running your fingers through his matted hair. Because of course there’s blood on his head too. You’d usually chalk what he’s saying up to drugs and insanity, but with Rafe you just never know.

“What?”

“He said maybe I should lay off you so he could have a piece instead, and I just…. lost it. Why should some chump get a part of what’s all mine?” He says with a startling amount of clarity, voice flat and low.

You don’t designate him with a response, and truth be told he doesn’t want you too. You stretch for what in actuality is a $3 dollar package of hello kitty bandaids and rip the white coverings off a few of them. He makes god awful sounds as you apply them to his mouth, head, and hands. The mess in his hair probably isn't his but your conscience won't let you leave it alone. Something foreign to your head and your heart won’t let you leave him alone.

You decide to put the knife in your back all on your own and look up into his eyes. They’re too half lidded to get a clear reading on them but you’re afraid to rely on the emotions underneath the surface. You used to be scared that he couldn’t feel anything. Now, the idea of Rafe Cameron believing he’s in love is far more terrifying.

He’s a bit ridiculous with My Melody, Kuromi, and Keroppi all over himself, you can’t help the small smile that comes over you. You quickly flatten it before he can get too pleased with himself but the fingers curled against your tummy spasm as they spread out to caress your skin. Rafe has an unreadable look on his face as he smears blood over your womb, but you think if you step away he’ll lunge at you.

“I can help you wash the blood off in the shower.” Saying that is in no way a promise of commitment or change, but it might be the closest you ever get.

You’re used to scraps, scraps are fine.

And well, for much you pride yourself on being perfectly fine being alone, it’s achingly human to crave being loved more than anything else. You wander aimlessly because you won’t go where you’re not wanted, and for the longest you’ve been wanted nowhere. But here you are, obsessed over by someone who everyone wants.

Maybe you’re sick of trying to make all the right decisions if this is where it gets you, cold and alone. Is it so bad to not care anymore? It couldn’t be worse than when your first crush told you he loved you and then had a baby with your bully, you reason. Or when he dated one of your friends and she would “joke” about marrying you when you were alone.

The short trip to the shower is awkwardly silent, you have to lead Rafe and make sure he doesn’t trip. You stare more than any Twilight character as you help each other strip. You try to avoid the bruises on Rafe’s torso, but he chuckles about how “You should see the other guy, kitty.”

So you don’t back away when he slows the trajectory of your calloused hands and drags them up his body. Your nails are bitten unevenly, some leave scratches on his abs and some don’t. It’s exhilarating to see Rafe Caneron’s thread come undone, to watch as he tilts his head back and sighs. You rest your hands on his pecs and kiss the hollow of his throat before you can stop yourself.

You won’t mention the squeak he tries to stifle with the back of his balled up fist.

You step away from him to be vulnerable in return, his satisfaction is much more evident this time around. He rips your camisole in two and unhooks your bra too well, clearly having had practice. He cups your breasts in his hands with tenderness that you’d think is out of character for him. Rafe doesn’t even honk them in the dude bro way that you’d always assumed he would. No, he… massages the flesh in his palms between slow squeezes.

“Don’t see why you’re so insecure about these, I like them just fine.” He huffs, bending down to motorboat you before pulling you in the shower through his grunts of pain and exertion.

You notice that he doesn’t steal a glance at your pussy, almost like he’s scared of seeing it bare and puffy… and wet.

You like to feel like a boiling lobster in the shower, so you turn the dial the same direction as always. You’re worried that Rafe will hate the sting but when the water hits, he moans with an open mouth, eyes shut tight. Before your next breath, you’re pushed against the wall and now the blood’s in your mouth as you're taken into a french kiss right out the gate.

You go with it against your better judgment, until Rafe pulls away to pant against your collarbone. His next kiss is softer, shy like it’s an unknown thing to the two of you. His lips glide and mesh with yours as the water trails down in between your slick bodies. You feel like you’re going to pass out but you couldn’t care less at the moment.

You open your eyes to see the water at the base of the shower run red, and you lose yourself in the swirling motion until the pop of your honey scented shampoo bottle lid snaps you out of it.

“Turn around kitty, ‘said I'd help you scrub down.”

He’d be embarrassed if you said it, but it’s obvious he’s never done this before. He’s like a bull in a china shop gathering you up in a loose bundle and sloppily spreading the soap throughout it. You stay silent, preferring to bask in the absurdity of it all.

Washing Rafe’s hair takes less time, but like he did when you were cleaning him up earlier, he chooses to stare at you the entire time. You scratch his head to really work the shampoo in there and get the dried blood out, he latches onto your wrists and lets his eyes drift shut. He makes it inconvenient to help him when he kisses your jawline, but you allow it.

“Thanks, you’re pretty good with your hands.” Rafe whispers with a wry grin, pecking your mouth and dropping to his knees. Your pomegranate body wash in his uninjured hand. The amount he squirts onto the dollar store loofah on his other hand is a touch too generous.

You have to replace the hello kitty bandaids when the originals fall off after Rafe steps out of the shower minutes later, he insists on it. You make him lean against the bathroom counter and watch as you take a second shower to clean out the cum, he wears a petulant frown the whole time.

You’re bent over that same counter when you’re back in his orbit, teary eyes wide as he fucks your plush thighs.

The rain turns into a thunderstorm outside.

[psychwxrdd]

cat and mouse

🎀 note: not me thinking about rafe dressed as michael myers for a future blurb...

you end things with rafe due to his obsessive and controlling behaviour.

dark! rafe, obsessive! rafe, stalker! rafe, dark rafe x reader, jj x reader, possessive/toxic relationship.

It all started when you showed up at Sarah's house, your very first week in Outer Banks. You moved to figure 8 with your family and she was the first person you talked to, asking you to hang out with her and her friends any of these days and get to know the place. When Rafe first saw you, he immediately approached you, told you he was Sarah's brother and that he would be more than happy to show you around.

You thought he was just being genuinely nice, and you liked him. But as the weeks go by, you realized he had other intentions, as you started seeing him everywhere... Gifts and flowers showing up at your house, whenever you were walking by yourself he would always be there to give you a ride. Or when you were at a store staring at a skirt you really liked and next day, your mother said "a friend brought you something". The same skirt you wanted so bad, with a small note besides it.

"I saw how you stared at this skirt. And i can't stop thinking about how gorgeous it you would look on you... Go on a date with me and use it :)"

You didn't even had to think, you knew it was Rafe. It was pretty obvious. But even as you felt something a bit off about him, he was a handsome, charming guy. It could be just a crush, nothing else, so why not? Life was boring lately.

And how bad you wish things stayed boring, now looking back.

You two started dating after about a month, mostly because he pressured you into it. You thought things were surely going too fast, but he insisted that he wanted to have you as his official girlfriend and that he didn't wanted anyone thinking they would have a chance with you. So you said yes.

Things only got worse since. Rafe clearly liked you more than you liked him, and everyone could notice that... But he did not mind at all. As long as you were his, however it was, he wouldn't care about anything else. He slowly took all the control over your life without you noticing.

Whenever you wanted to leave in the morning to work, he would ask you to stay with him for a bit more.

"You know i can't be late, babe" you said with a soft smile as he pouted.

"You don't need that lame job, sweetheart. Why you even work? You're a kook. And i take care of you" As he kisses your neck and you chuckle. "Please, i hate being without you, just a few more minutes..."

And you couldn't say no, not at all. He was sweet, but something about him was so intimidating and scary, you couldn't exactly put your finger on what was it. But you knew that saying no to Rafe wasn't a good idea.

Then a few weeks later, you were eventually fired.

Rafe didn't wanted you to go out with your friends anymore, not his sisters, even worse if it was one of the pogues.

"You think i don't know that Maybank guy has some desperated puppy crush on you?" He asked, tapping his hands on his head.

"Rafe, he is a friend! They are all my friends!" You were exhausted of this conversation, almost screaming at him.

"You see...I don't want you being friends with them anymore. So..." He smiled, but nothing about that smile was happy or calmed you in the slightest. It was a weird smile. "You won't hang out with them anymore, you're better than that. And you're my girl. Right? My girl won't disobey me, huh?"

Or when you guys were watching a movie, a drama maybe, and you would make a silly comment like "If we broke up one day i'm moving to Italy", completely innocent, and his mood would be ruined.

"That won't fucking happen. Ever."

"I was just kidding." You spoke softly. "Don't take it seriously babe"

"Yeah...You know better than that. I'm sorry. Can't even stand the mere thought of losing you."

Why did you knew better than that?

Or when he started complaining about how much the condoms were uncomfortable, and how he wanted to feel you entirely. You wasn't ready for that, as much as you were horny, you weren't ok with the idea of end up pregnant. That was your answer, no.

But Rafe was a master at gaslighting. He wouldn't stop trying to convince you untill you made your mind, and when you didn't, he simply started taking off while you were too fucked out to notice.

Everyone was worried, even Ward realized how sick was this love his son had towards you. It was like he needed you to breath, in the worst way possible.

You broke up with him after almost a year together, and he obviously didn't took it well. He cried, punched walls, screamed, broke things, acted like a total psycho and you left scared for your life, trully. For your luck, Sarah and Rose were around and they helped you, cause Rafe wouldn't let you even get out of his room for sure.

2 weeks passed since that day and needless to say, Rafe made your life a hell. Blowing your phone with infinite texts and calls, showing up at your house, calling you through your parents phone, absolutely acting like a fucking freak. You started hanging out with your friends again, and that helped you a lot to go through it, it was nice to have people to trust, especially with all that was happening.

You were at The Cut with JJ, it was night and you two stared at the sea while laughing about some stupid thing he said. You decided to check your phone to see the time, and realized there was a text from an unknown number.

the fuck you're doing at the cut?

who is with you rn?

i'm serious y/n

don't fuck with me

answer me or i'll look for you myself

You frozed while reading that. Why he couldn't just leave you alone? Why the fuck he still had your location on his phone?

You cursed yourself for ever giving it to him at first. If you only knew who you were dealing with.

please babe i need to see you

i'm going crazy

i'm doing coke again

i need you right fucking now or i'll blow my brains out

i'm serious

you think i'm not serious?

i'll fucking film then

rafe PLEASE stop

lets talk ok

but please stop

i'll pick you up

"JJ... You need to leave now, Rafe wants to talk to me and i don't even wanna think about what he would do if he saw you with me"

The blonde stared at you in disbelief.

"Are you fucking him again?"

"NO! But he wants to talk, and if thats what it takes for him to leave me alone, then i'll do it!" You said, almost yelling. "And i don't want you to be involved"

"You're my friend Y/n for fuck's sake, you think i'll let you be alone with that psychopath?"

"JJ-"

"No Y/n, you don't deserve this shit!"

Your eyes were full of tears at this point, and you felt your body weak. It was like you were sick with so much sadness and anxiety. JJ was quick to hug you tightly, and thats when you allowed yourself to cry.

"You got this, we got this, right?" He caressed you hair "I'm here sweet thing."

You heard the sound of a familiar truck, and your heart stopped beating for a second. Your ex boyfriend stepped out from his side, clearly out of his mind.

"Rafe, let's talk!"

"YOU BITCH! I KNEW IT, I FUCKING KNEW IT!" He shouted, his face looking red and if stares could kill you would surely be dead by now.

"Chill out dude" JJ said way too calm, and that gave you more panic. He should never play with Rafe, he should never speak to him in that tone.

The last thing you remember from that night was Rafe punching JJ's face so bad he passed out on the floor. And you couldn't do nothing, as the much taller and stronger guy carried you on his shoulders and threw you on his truck. It was all too overwhelming, too fast, painfull, you were dissociating.

"Had to take back whats mine, love" He said in a stern tone, while focused on the road "I thought you knew better, huh? Now the fucker might be dead and it's your fault. But i don't care, i love you too much princess. I hated that dirty pogue...Always thinking he could have a piece of you" Rafe inhaled sharply, his jaw giving you a glimpse of how much rage he felt. "Hear this, i'll tell you just once: The only way you ever will get rid of me is when you die, honey. And if you ever consider trying to leave me again, i'll kill you and i'll kill myself right after. You got that?"

[emsgoodthinkin]

Yandere Rafe Cameron headcanons

Gets up an hour earlier than you to sit in his car and watch your house

Knows you order extra carmel in your coffee, so he does the same with his

Makes friends with your brother to get closer to you

Sneaks into your bedroom window while you’re in the shower to bag some off the stray hairs from your brush

Pockets your chapstick

Takes professional photos of you when you jog in the park, after class when you’re in your local library

Comes into your room at night while you’re sleeping to cuddle you.. and to maybe knead your thighs

Rubs his red tip on your on the soft bristles of your tooth brush

Compliments your outfits everyday

You start to notice his presence more and more, you like it

hugs you often to get a good feel of your body, and smell your hair

You both start making excuses to see each other

He’s already been through your phone to track you

Steals your warm and over-worn biker shorts

whispers how you’ll be his forever when he fucks and makes love to you

Has succeeded to be your fathers favorite

Steals small trinkets from your childhood bedroom at your family gathers

Has physically threatened all of your past love interests

Forced submission, easier to breed you as many times as he wants

Gets you aphrodisiac chocolates when your on your cycle, but you never need to know that;

records you everytime you’re desperate to bounce on his cock..threatens to blackmail you with every video when you don’t come home on time to cook for him

Texts you every hour, calls 3 times a day

Gifts you something pretty every weekend

Studies all of your collage courses so the only person who can tutor you, is him

[0xstarzx0]

LOVE ME LIKE I DO | ONE SHOT|

Rafe S3 x Yandere reader

{OPEN COMMAND (please l’m bored)}

[English is not my native language ❗️❗️]

synopsis: If he doesn’t love you as you love him, just give him a little reminder, maybe he’ll understand who he belongs to this time.

Ok then, it’s really creepy to read, it’s the first time I write this kind of thing and it’s probably the last time. It’s really weird and not suitable for an uninformed public, so if you’re sensitive please don’t read this, I’m fucking serious. Don’t.

tw: murder, stalking, mental issues , weirdos, mentions of sex , mentions of murder , insults, violent, non-con, kidnapping, yandere.

______________________________________________

Rafe knew he had a problem, but you. You were crazy. You proved it to him several times, instead of scaring him, it turned him on.

You were also very jealous, so much so that once you tried to fight with a girl who watched Rafe for too long.

Simply put, Rafe wasn’t the only one who was crazy, you were a crazy couple. Who could kill to protect each other and vice versa.

But Rafe wasn’t as in love as you were, he was definitely possessive and strongly attached to you but he wasn’t obsessed with you. On the other hand, you were.

To say that you didn’t want to cover up several times without him noticing, or even spy, would be a lie.

You had the location of his phone, put a camera in his room with a microphone.

You were a psychopath. Rafe compared to you was a little gambler.

You could only take it out on your mother, the only memories you have of her are all the times she keeps telling you not to give up when you loved someone.

If it took 20 years, then it would take 20 fucking years.

When you lost access to Rafe’s location, a few things were weird. When you went to Tannyhill and the house was empty, you quickly understood what was going on.

Rafe had abandoned you, after all you had done for him. You had literally killed for him, you even had to hide a body for him.

And he to thank you was gone??? No Rafe you do not know who you belong to?

______________________________________________

Rafe had returned to Outer Banks.

As soon as he set foot on the island, he had sealed his fate.

The camera you had in his room was still working, and so was his microphone. You get up an hour instead of him every morning, just to see him get up and change.

You were just wet to see his abs or his hard dick in the morning.

Today was a day like any other, you plan to spy on him and take notes. You noticed he melted the cross you stole with him and sold it with Barry.

You followed him around the streets of Charleston. Making you as discreet as you could. You don’t understand why Rafe turned around and started looking around.

You hid as fast as you could and Rafe left.

______________________________________________

You felt your heart filled with sadness and hatred. Your whole body felt broken.

Rafe had a party to celebrate his official return to the island but, the latter was not alone.

Under his muscular arm is Sofia, a girl who worked at the Country Club that you and Rafe used to date.

She knows very well that Rafe belongs to you because, she had several times seen you slip away with him in the toilet.

That bitch knew full well she never should have done it, yet she did.

She’ll pay you, you swear.

When you got home that same night, you saw Rafe moan her name, touch her make her scream. Every second you spent watching that fucking screen disgust you.

You must have been the one he was exhausting, over-stimulating, so why were you there and she was being destroyed?

A wave of Jealousy and hatred overwhelmed you, You could not sleep. You got up, you started imagining what you would do to them and you liked the idea.

Your hand went to your panties, Rafe’s favorite. 

You touched yourself with two fingers, you’d force Sofia to look at how much Rafe would rather fuck you, kiss you and make you scream his name.

how obsessed Rafe was with you.

You started shaking feeling your orgasm coming, you felt like it was Rafe’s fingers, you closed your eyes two minutes and when you opened them, you fingers were soaking your sheets too

____________________________________________

The next day, you made sure of everything. The hammer was in your bag with the ropes and the sedative.

You waited to see Rafe’s bike go and entered Tannyhill. You made sure to be as quiet as possible and is checking the camera through your phone. Sofia go to the bathroom.

You walked into the room and heard ten minutes, until Sofia was too busy washing herself to hear anyone coming into the bathroom.

When she got out of the shower and unfortunately for her, she didn’t turn around, you strangled him with the rope.

She struggled for a while and you pressed your knee behind her back to further limit her oxygen. "You’re gonna die when Bitch!" You’re screaming.

Her suffocations were the only noises in the whole house. Suddenly she stopped moving her face was blue.

She was dead. You took her body and dragged her into the room, put her in a suitcase and went downstairs into the kitchen.

You pulled out the ingredients to prepare Rafe’s favorite dish is here.

Once finished, you put sedatives in it, then you imitated Sofia’s writing to perfection. You looked at the time and realized that Rafe was coming home soon. You went up to get Sofia’s body and took it with you from Tannyhill.

You fed it to the alligators, including in the swamp, and burned Rafe’s suitcase. You went home and prepared everything for tonight, you put on your best dress and you made the most beautiful possible, your reunion was going to be perfect.

______________________________________________

Your moans were the only thing audible in the room.

Rafe opened his eyes more and more slowly, he wanted to move his arm but he could not. The more he forced the more he felt his arm was being burned.

He also felt like a few things or rather someone was on him. He was inside a pussy?

This thought made him open his eyes, look at his beas and he was hung on either side of the bed. He looked ahead and froze on the spot.

You were on him, He was inside you and you were moving on him. You moaned his name you shoved your nails into his skin.

"Damn it, Y/N..." he moans trying to come to his senses. "Fuck Rafe!" You scream while accelerating your movements.

You moan louder and louder until you reach your peak.

You collapse on Rafe. "Fuck Y/N what are you doing here?" Rafe asks screaming.

You look Rafe in the eye. "You belong to me Rafe, I came to take back what belongs to me." You say while looking at him.

"You’re a fucking weirdo!" He starts trying to get the ropes off his wrists.

A clapping sound sounds in the room. Rafe slapped violently. You grab the back of his head violently forcing him to look at you.

"You know I’m crazy about you? You know that?" You ask Rafe about to explode. "YOU KNOW WHAT I’M CRAZY ABOUT YOU RAFE??!" You’re screaming. He’s not answering.

You close your eyes and calm down. "Everything I’ve done and what I’m going to do, I do for love you know that." You gently caress Rafe’s cheek. You stand up and get the hammer that was in your bag. You walk up to Rafe. "What are you going to do?" he asks you to panic. "Make you understand never to leave me or cheat on me again."

You hit his head violently, which just knock his out.

______________________________________________

You watch Rafe wake up, when he opens his eyes he’s panicked, he looks around him. "You’re finally awake Love?"

You lean to put your face closer to his, he instantly backs up in his chair to which he is tied. You still manage to put your lips on his.

"Let me go, I won’t tell anyone." he asks you with pity.

You put your arms and your head on his lap. "I can’t, honey." You say in a little voice. "Why?" he asks." Because you’re not in love with me, and until you feel what I feel for you, I won’t let you go. Even if it takes me twenty years or more."

______________________________________________

.

.

.

.

[necroflame]

The Shedding (Dark!Rafe Cameron x F!Reader)

Paring: Dark!Rafe x F!Reader, slight JJ x F!Reader

Summary: The rigid order of life aboard the Pyxis maintained the harmony of your contained ecosystem. Everything was predictable and uncomplicated. All you knew were the same faces, routine, and environment. But what is life without evolution? Even if it shatters everything you once knew.

Warnings: Space voyagers au, violence, possessive behaviour, dub/non-con, murder, forced pregnancy, more could be added (18+)

Main Storyline

Chapter I: Generation Novus

Chapter II: Queen of the Night

Chapter III: The Wild Swans

Chapter IV: Momento mori

Chapter V: Pack Hounds

Chapter VI: Sol Orietur 

Drabbles + Headcannons

none yet

Art

none yet

(Collage images all sourced from Pinterest)

[prettybabybaby]

Boxer!Rafe becoming obsessed with his waitress and stalking her until he gets her. (Rafe is so boxer bf)

anon wait... ring girl!reader

¡ 18+ only ! ¡ minors do not interact !

¡ outer banks masterlist !

rafe thinks you're so cute when your facial expressions shift from worried to excited as you watch the matches. when your face lights up with a toothy smile when you walks into the ring, sign held high as you parade around, relishing in the cheers.

rafe can't help but stare as he catches his breath, swallowing blood and wiping sweat from his forehead. he's had his eye on you for a while, captivated by your sweet demeanor. you're so pretty, too, with a soft skin that seems to go on for miles, displayed by your skimpy uniform and the bright lights. a glimmer bounces off your skin, a dusting of highlight on the high points of your face and the dip of your collarbones, complimented by a thin layer of shiny gloss on your smiling lips that somehow grows even bigger when you meet his eyes.

he can't focus, the weight of your eyes on him as the match picks up again distracting him. it's like he can hear the gasp that escapes you when a particularly harsh hit is thrown at him. your eyes widen and your chest puffs up, a hand moving to cover your mouth. your genuine concern is nauseating, attempting to help him stumble away into the quieter back rooms when he finds his way into your line of vision, playing up the effects of amateur punch.

you're so gentle and sweet, cleaning his wounds with tender touches and a crease between your brows. rafe breathes heavily, he isn't sure if it's because of the pain and exhaustion or your tender touches and radiating warmth. his mind is swimming as he thinks of your constant need to be reassured that he was okay, that you weren't hurting him, that you were doing a good job aiding him. the look in your sparkling eyes ignited something in him, making the urge to keep you as close to him as possible harder to ignore.

rafe keeps a close eye on you after that, following your every movement. he observes the way you rush in through the back doors, bag containing your uniform filled to the brim with miscellaneous objects you never reach for. he watches you slip into your car, a beaten down old thing that's on its last legs, probably worth less than his watch. the stressful expression that falls from your face at the sight of him, a curious glint shining beneath the surface as you observe the white powder under his nose.

his thoughts quickly turn obsessive, the desire to have you plaguing his every thought. your supple thighs and curves flashing in his mind as he waits for his mind to rest. his hand wraps around himself, squeezing and pulling, as he fantasizes about the day he makes you his.

[walalppper]

Little Game - dark! Rafe Cameron x (Y/n)

Dark Rafe Cameron x Reader (x Pope Heyward) Part I

(Reader is 19 years old) warnings/tags: 18+, obsessive!Rafe, violence, physical/verbal abuse, toxic relationship.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Little Game

Everyone in Outer Banks knew who Rafe Cameron was for obvious reasons, and everyone also knew to not mess with his girl. But in the midsummer fest (Y/n) met a wonderful person, he made her feel safe, loved, and beautiful, feelings she never experienced with Rafe. It’s not like he abused her, he just had a weird way of letting her know he loved her, and Pope was aware of that.

He just wanted to make her feel protected, and eventually, she let herself go and started a secret relationship with Pope behind Rafe’s back. At first, she didn’t think much about the consequences of her actions, but slowly with time she was starting to grow paranoid, disgusted, and awful in general. Rafe was an awful boyfriend, but he didn’t deserve this.

But here she was again, promising herself to meet up with Pope Heyward one last time and end everything.

“We can…I can take you away from here (Y/n). Just-” Pope softly spoke to her. Shaking her head as no, she gently pleads. “Pope…you don’t know what he’s capable of doing-”

“Capable of doing what?” Rafe’s voice echoed in the small cabin they were in. “Oh no…am I interrupting something?” He chuckled, slowly closing the door behind him, and glancing over at both.

“Rafe…” (Y/n) trembled with fear.

“No need for that…” he nodded. “I know exactly what’s going on here. You were about to leave me for this pogue.” He nodded, slowly reaching out to grab the crowbar that stood against the wooden wall of the cabin.

“(Y/n) get behind me…” Pope whispered, rolling his hands into firm fists. At the sight of the scene, she knew something bad was about to go down. Rafe was already swinging the crowbar in Pope’s direction. Rafe was predictable, she knew him too well, there was no way Pope could beat him alone. Running as fast as she could to the entrance door, she looked over at Pope “I’ll go get help!” and disappeared in the next second.

“Sure, you will…” Rafe whispered under his breath, glancing over at Pope with a malicious smile.

xxx

Panting, sweating dripped down her forehead as she ran as fast as possible through the woods. She had to find JJ, John b, Kiara, someone!

It was a stormy night as the wind blew violently through the tall trees ahead, it was freezing. Shivering, (Y/n) pulled her blouse tighter around her as she slowed down. Gasping for air she started looking around. Finally slowing down she felt a bit safer that the man was no longer chasing after her. Her mind was racing all over. ‘Why did I do this? Now Pope might be hurt or even-’

The sudden strange noise behind her startled her, making her wake up from the sudden memories of the events that happened she shook her head no in total disbelief at the man right in front of her. He was standing just a few meters across her, maybe she could still make a run for it and get back before him.

“I told you to stop running.”

“You’re psychotic!” She yelled in the hope someone was nearby and could come to save her.

"And you cheated on me."

"That doesn't give you the right to beat him..."

A small ‘hm’ escaped his lips as he started approaching her. “Stay away!” She yelled once more, throwing a small rock in his direction. Dodging the rock that was just thrown to his figure, he grabbed her by the back of the neck, looking her dead in the eyes. “I killed Peterskin. Did he tell you that part?” It was obvious she didn’t know by the expression of shock on her face. “Where did all that courage you had just go?” Rafe joked.

Tears were starting to form in the corner of her eyes. “You’ll be in jail for what you did…not only to Peterkin but to-” “Those pogues?” He cut immediately after her, furrowing his eyebrows he tightened his grip around her. “They got what they deserved.”

She couldn’t even look him in the eyes after everything he did. But she had the courage let people know the truth about what happened, the people he murdered, and the ones he attempted to. Chucking a bit to himself he lets go of her. “But you know what? I’m a fair man…” Beyond being high off his mind he was also loving seeing her so tense and nervous, fighting with all her strenght to get back to that Pogue. A sudden grin grew on his lips, understanding exactly what she was thinking. “You know what? Fine.” He nodded his head, “Let’s play a little game.”

Looking at him confused, (Y/n) was about to open her mouth to speak. “You run…and I try to catch you. If you get to that pogue first I’ll hand myself to the police.” She knew it was impossible to run from him, and he knew she knew it. But what choice did she have? Even if it was 1 chance in 100, she would take it.

“But-”

Locking his eyes with hers, he smirked. “But if I catch you, you’ll have to go back with me. Stay quiet about this whole situation and…” Caressing gently her cheek he spoke. “Never talk to those pogues ever again.”

Her teary (e/c) stared back at him. “You’re fucking psychotic…” “Yet you still love me, don’t you?”

Letting go of her he took his jacket off and wrapped it gently around her shoulders. “Or we can just cut the bullshit and you come home with me right now.” Pushing him away she shook her head no. “You might even be surprised by the outcome of this stupid game.”

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Part II (Available Soon)

English is not my first language but i hope you enoyed :P

[theoffice1234]

looking for fics where a bunch of people are in love with y/n/oc...

[venusonthemo0n]

ᥫ᭡ . # ۫ , ⸺ OUTER BANKS !

john b. routledge

jj maybank

kiara carrera

pope heyward

sarah cameron

rafe cameron

all outer banks content

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

Imagine...

Pairing: Dark Rafe Cameron x (female) Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

WARNINGS: Toxic Relationship.

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“Now, I trust you to make the right decision, okay, babe?” Rafe brings his face closer to you, his hand tightening around your wrist.

“Rafe…”

“Shush, just listen to me, okay? Be a good girl and just shut up.” He taps your cheek a few times, demanding for your full attention.

The past few days had been so good without Rafe bothering you. You actually believed that him going radio-silence on you meant that he finally understood that you didn’t want anything to do with him anymore.

That after the annoying calls and upsetting messages, he was finally getting the message loud and clear.

You were so wrong.

“All you have to say is that you’re sorry. That you love me and that we’re good now. You were just being a little bitch that day but you’re sorry for that. Okay?”

A mean pinch on your arm startles you and you yelp, trying to pull your arm out of Rafe’s reach.

A lazy smirk curls his lips, and he cocks his eyebrows up.

“C’mon, Y/N. I don’t think you face the consequences if you don’t stop acting like a spoiled brat.” his smirk hardens, the amusement turning into irritation in a flash.

“Cause there is no way I’m letting you leave me.”