sophie | 23 | she/her | TW: NONCON FICS | Inbox open if you just wanna chat about fics or anything. Anon is always on. Requests are now OPEN!
Don't wanna be here? Send us removal request.
Text
“i always gotta fucking take care of you sweetheart, it’s sad,” and then “it’s like my fucking job now”
Patrick is so mean, I think i’m gonna faint
oct. 18th - hostility maintenance
Patrick Zweig x Female!Reader
mdni!!! wc; 1k cw; p in v, slapping
kinktober 2024 masterlist
a/n; twas difficult to write this one cause i had to scrap what i originally had but😭it's finished and it's patrick so enjoy🫶
You’re going to kill him.
You won’t. But you will.
That Zweig motherfucker was going to make you commit a heinous crime and there may be no going back.
How can Art befriend a guy like this, you don’t know. And you love Art. He’s attentive. Sweet to you. He shares his snacks when you stay over. Tashi…you could understand why she liked Patrick, but it still irked you. Patrick? Who rubs his sweaty face on your clean towels and does not throw them in the hamper. He’ll hang them right back up like they haven’t been used.
And he’d have a dangerous smirk when he catches you using said towel. Patrick. Who comments on every little thing about you or what you’re doing? Did you wear a new bracelet? He’s asking what brand. You’re eating something? Well, can he have some too? He’s starved.
Patrick Zweig was a tried and true asshole and you wanted his head on a spike. Is that too far?
Probably.
Tashi let him stay over and housesit, is what she called it. But you’re home now. Back from a work trip before Tashi would be home. Hours before she would be home.
Zweig has you pinned on the floor of your hallway, his sweaty hair to his forehead, his hand stroking at his cock, making sure his tip is touching your clit, a breathy laugh leaving his lips when you tug harshly at his hair, like you wanted to rip it out. In spirit of course.
“Sweetheart, slow your roll, I’m not even in you,” he mumbles, his free hand pushing on your thigh to hook your leg up high on his hip.
Your eyes are squeezed shut to avoid ever seeing his smug face, but your body aches for him to fill it. You want with all your might to tell him you don’t actually want this, that this is too wrong, that you should at least go into your room and not fuck on the hallway floor but you can’t say any of that. Because that is not what you truly want. Patrick knows that.
He knows you so well. He knows you watch when he adjusts himself in his shorts, when he’s got his towel low on his hips after a shower with or without Tashi. Hell, last time his cock filled you up, he insinuated that he was sure you get yourself off while listening to his and Tashi’s moans in her room.
You might, but that’s besides the point.
“Then get yourself in me, Zweig, we can’t be fucking slow, Tashi will-”
“Shh, shhh, shh, why’re you mentioning her?”
You don’t need to look at him to know he’s smirking, a low groan leaving his lips as he teases the head of himself at your hole, easing it in, only to move it away completely.
You huff through a whine, “You know why I’m mentioning her, don’t be like that.”
“Mm, yeah, I know, you got the hots for her, but let me fuck you in peace.”
“Patrick I-”
You cut yourself off with a moan as Patrick pushes his cock into you, burying his face into your neck and pulling at both of your legs to wrap tightly around him. He wants you deep. That much is certain.
Taking the opportunity, you hold to the back of his head and let your nails dig to him, not caring if it hurts him. It might. But he likes it.
It’s clear because he laughs at the feeling and thrusts his hips harder, claiming every part of your body with his own. Your back is uncomfortable on the floor but the ripples of pleasure swarming your body make up for it.
“Now think about Tashi coming home, walking across this floor right here,” he grunts to your neck, nipping at the skin enough to make you moan, but not enough to leave a mark. If he did leave one, you’d know it was on purpose. He never truly cared if Tashi saw. But neither did Tashi.
“She’s gonna walk across right where we fucked, sweetheart,” he laughs again, reaching his hand to your ass and pushing you up to fuck you at a better angle.
“And?” You take a deep inhale, your thighs squeezing to his hips to keep him as locked into you as he can be, though the other side of your brain with more sense wants to slap his face.
“And, maybe we should leave a small mess. See if she sees,” he grins against your neck, splotching messy kisses up to your jaw and biting at you. When you whine, he nods his head, “Yeah? Oh you’re too desperate.”
“Fuck off, Patrick,” you mumble, tilting your head back to the floor, moving a hand to his shoulder and digging to the skin there.
He hums at the sensation and gives a few rather sharp thrusts into you, “You’re annoying. But then it wouldn’t be fun to fuck you, would it?”
This time you do actually slap him. Your hand collides to his cheek without thinking it through. Patrick grunts and his pace quickens, “Oh, there you go, where the fuck’s that been?”
You’re going to kill him. Of course he’s amused. Patrick twitches inside of you and grunts with every forward movement, his teeth biting under your jaw without a care in the world, your hands back to digging into his shoulders, leaving reddened marks in their wake.
You think he’s gonna beg you to slap him again when you don’t respond, only moans tumbling out of your mouth, but he doesn’t. Patrick focuses on fucking his cock into you, muttering, "I always gotta take fucking care of you sweetheart, it's sad," and then, "it's like my fucking job now," until your thighs feel shaky and you finish with a loud moan.
You don’t think about how hard you’re holding onto him, only the shattery feeling exploding inside of you and the warm pump of his release as he buries his cock into you. Patrick chuckles through his groans as he finishes and he waits until he’s completely spent, completely sure he’s emptied himself into you before he pulls out.
He taps your thigh, “better get to your room, my phone buzzed.”
You barely register his words until you hear the sound of keys at the front door and in a second, you’re on your feet, going quickly into your bedroom.
111 notes
·
View notes
Text
perv!bsf!rafe … who’s a total loser, and soooo icky.
warnings: noncon, dubcon, that’s it i think …
he’s shameless about it too. will text you late at night about something normal, eventually coercing you into sending a picture of your face. ‘just miss my best friend, that’s all’ …. then he’s asking what necklace you have on, wanting a pic of your tank top … ‘what? i can’t wonder what you’re wearing now?’. until eventually he’s got you tilting the camera down to show off your whole body.
and he’s fisting his cock the entire time, bottom lip tucked between his teeth, eyes transfixed on the picture of you laying against your pretty sheets ... little pyjama shorts riding up your plush thighs, hard nipples poking through the thin material of your cami.
he’s coming against his stomach with an almost whimper … grabbing whatever discarded item of clothing is closest to wipe it off.
the next time you see him, you’re headed to a party. he’s pumping gas into his truck, hand on the top of the car as he looks down at you … his little passenger, through the open window. and when he pulls his wallet out to pay at the pump, you catch a glimpse of yourself. a little crinkled picture of your body tucked behind the clear panel in the leather.
‘rafe!’ you’re gasping, ‘why would you print that out?!’
and he’s laughing all sleazy, telling you you’re overreacting with a shrug … ‘s’not that serious doll, you sent the pic, can do whatever i want with it’
when you inevitably drink too much and he has to drive you home, placing you in bed like a baby, he tells you you’re ‘far too drunk to get changed yourself’ and that he’ll ‘just have to do it for you’. cock discreetly in his right hand, thumbing himself over lazily as he leans over you … left hand taking it’s sweet time pulling down your little dress.
you’re incoherently mumbling something about ‘hurrying up’ because you’re ‘tired and wanna go to bed’ and he’s smirking, swallowing back a moan as he reassures that he’s ‘going as quick as i can, doll’
it’s a shame you’re far too drunk to notice the way he’s panting … to notice the feeling of your panties being pulled down your mid thighs … don’t notice when he cums into them with a groan either, sticky white seed painting the gusset as he catches his breath and pulls them back up your hips with a hum of approval.
you’ll wake up hungover and a little confused at the way your panties stick to you, gasping when you tug them to the side and see the cum that’s been smushed up against your cunt all night.
he’s a forward thinker though, stole all your clean panties before he left … guess you’ll just have to stay in the seed stained ones.
#recrecrec#soo s1!pervy!rafe#omggg 😵💫#him cumming in her fucking panties??? jail rn#when is it my turn 🫣
772 notes
·
View notes
Text
bsf!rafe helping reader have her first orgasm with someone
warnings: smut (mdni)in the bsf!rafe headcanon post, i mentioned that what lead to their little thing was because reader told rafe that she had never had an orgasm with a partner, and i decided to write a little blurb about that
you and rafe were laid down on the floor of his living room, the rug tickling the back of your neck the room littered with red solo cups, empty bottles of booze, several of vases belonging to his stepmother in pieces around the room, music still playing faintly in the distance, but the only thing you could focus on was rafe's laughter as he laid on the floor next to yours.
"hey, it's not funny!" you exclaim, but the boy simply raised his brows amusedly, making you roll your eyes, "alright, it's a little bit funny."
"thirty seconds? seriously?" rafe laughs, and you smack him gently in his chest. "next you're gonna tell me he could never even make you come."
it was just a joke, but when he looked at you and saw the aloof look on your face as you stared at the ceiling, your bottom lip between your teeth, clearly avoiding looking at your best friend, rafe gasped, knowing that he just hit the nail on the head. "really? he never made you come?"
you sighed, and turned to your best friend, a teasing expression on your face, and you just knew you'd never hear the end of this. "alright, he never made me come. are you happy?" you scoffed, hoping he'd drop it, making rafe burst out in laughter, the pout on your face becoming more and more visible, "it's not funny..."
"okay, okay, i'll stop laughing." rafe said, and like he said, the laughter in his throat slowly dying down, "only if you answer one question." he said, his head now leaning against the palm of his hand as he watched you with interest.
"alright, what is it?" you asked exasperatedly, desperately wanting out of this situation.
"how many guys have been able to do that?"
you hid your face in your hands, but rafe simply took hold of your wrists, and pulled them away from your face, forcing you to look at him in the eyes as you bit down on your lower lip, not knowing if you should lie to him or just come out and tell him the truth.
"come on, i'm your best friend, you can tell me anything."
but when you quietly whispered the word "none," and stutteringly explained that you'd only been able to do it yourself, you could see a grin take over his lips, the one you'd known for the entirety of your life, the one that told you that rafe found something interesting, challenging, something to achieve, to conquer.
rafe swore it was just something that'd happen just once, that it wouldn't change your friendship, that it was normal. still, as his fingers slid in and out of you with ease due to the arousal gushing out of you, moans slipping out of your lips while your manicured fingers were holding onto his hair, it was feeling less and less like friendship, like the closer you got to your orgasm, the more intense it got.
"rafe..." you moaned when his soft lips wrapped around your clit, drawing sensations out of you that no other guy had before, ones you'd only managed to get yourself to feel, now much more electrified by the fact that it was him touching you.
"i'm just helping my best friend..." rafe said quietly against your clit, the vibrations of his words against the sensitive spot, causing you to throw your head back as you enjoyed every sensation his mouth and hands were giving you.
and when the electric feeling inside of your stomach finally spread throughout your body as if it had been set free, you were too naive to know just how much this would change your friendship, your moans far too loud for you to hear the little mumbles of "mine..." that your best friend was whispering against your cunt.
#bsf!rafe cameron#recrecrec#oooh the ending 👀#hottt#just helping his best friend 😇 such a good guy 😵💫
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
Death Grips. II - R.C
Dark!Frat!Rafe Cameron x f!reader
Warnings: Dv( physical abuse),NONCON, Mentions of Dv, Cheating, mentions of cheating, abusive relationship, gaslighting, manipulation, frat!rafe, blackmail, emotional abuse, underage drinking, he’s an asshole guys
Summary: inspired by ‘death grips’ by Etta Marcus/ After a messy break up with Rafe Cameron your freshman year of college, he can’t seem to leave you alone. Whether you’re awake or asleep
Series masterlist 
A/n: hey guys, I’m currently out of the country so this took me a little longer than I wanted it to but hope u enjoy and pls leave feedback and lmk how u like it!
Part: II
………
As you stormed to your dorm, the only thoughts in your head were, What was the point of all of this? And Why was he doing all of this? He had already taken so much from you; why wasn't it enough? You thought you had been going crazy. First, it was the kiss at the party; now, this. I mean, did he still want power over you that bad?
~~~~
The sound of Rafe's engine created a soft hum behind the blaring sound of his music as he used one hand to steer through the night and the other to turn the volume up slightly before resting it comfortably on your thigh. Raindrops smacked hard against The windshield to be quickly whipped away the second they did.
You hadn't felt like yourself in a while. I mean, of course, you felt like yourself, but you felt like a shell, a casing of what you used to be. Your friends had noticed it too, and the abuse you had been enduring daily was getting harder to hide, not just the bruises but your overall mood; whenever you were happy, it didn't seem as big.
Whenever you were sad, it seemed like the end of the world. You constantly felt anxious, wondering if you would say the wrong thing to Rafe; honestly, it made you want to stay completely silent around him.
You were pulled out of your thoughts by your phone buzzing. It wasn't that important; it was just one of your classmates texting you about a project the two of you were working on together. What you hadn't noticed was Rafe peaking at your phone, too.
"Who's that?" Rafe questioned almost instantly, moving his eyes back and forth between you and the road.
"It's just Cam from my research class," you replied nonchalantly, scrunching your eyebrows as you tried to focus on reading the text.
"Didn't I tell you to block him?" Your boyfriend reminded you more than he asked, and his tone hit a dangerous edge.
"Yeah, but—"you try to backtrack and defend yourself before being cut off by the sound of your boyfriend hitting the steering wheel hard, making you flinch, almost as if he was trying to warn you to shut up.
"There is no, but if I tell you to do something... " he took a long breath, shaking his head. You should respect me enough to do it." When you didn't respond, Rafe took that as a sign to do something to make you respond.
This happened very often. When it came to Rafe, you would tend to shut down, too scared to say the wrong thing.
As you stared out the window, not wanting to argue anymore, arms crossed over your chest, you noticed that the nearby scenery started to drift by faster than it should. Rafe's engine grew louder as his truck moved quicker, and when you looked at him, it all clicked. His knuckles were nearly white from gripping the steering wheel so tight, his eyes shifting back and forth from the road, and you in his face hard as a rock.
"R-Rafe?" You stuttered as the speed of his truck continued to grow, the speedometer moving further and further to the right. But he didn't say anything, and now he wasn't even looking at you, his eyes glued to the road as he continued to push the gas.
"Slow down." Your voice shakes as you try to speak calmly through your growing anxiety, your head whipping back and forth between the road and him. When he still didn't respond, you started to lose it.
"RAFE, SLOW THE FUCK DOWN!" You were now screaming through tears; this wasn't fucking funny at all. He was playing with your life, and if this wasn't a joke and he was seriously going to crash the car and kill you both over a text message, it made you feel even more stupid. Rafe had done more than enough for you to leave him, yet you were stupid because you still loved him and couldn't imagine yourself without him.
Instead of slowing down as you asked, Rafe hit the brakes forcefully, causing you to fly forward in your seat and slam your head hard against the dashboard.
"Fuck.." you mumbled under your breath, holding your now-pounding forehead.
Relief washed over you as you looked out the window to see your boyfriend had stopped the truck entirely, but that relief was short-lived when you turned to look at him and were met with cold, calculated blue eyes.
"Get out of my car." Rafe leaned closer, his voice low and dripping with a sinister calm. "I'm not playing around. Get out." The way he said it, flat and final, sent a chill down your spine.
You hesitated, trying to search his expression for any hint of remorse or softness, anything that could explain why he was acting this way. But his face was stone, unfeeling and unmoved by the terror and confusion that must have been clear in your eyes.
"Get out of my car," he repeated, his tone colder, firmer. But you just sat there, clutching your bag and staring at the windshield, hoping that if you didn't move, he'd realize how irrational he was being and calm down.
"Rafe, please… it's pouring out, and it's late. Just take me back to campus, and we can talk about this later," you pleaded, your voice shaking but determined not to show how scared you really felt.
But instead of softening, Rafe's expression hardened, and he leaned over, his hand reaching across to unlatch your seatbelt with a rough pull. "I told you to get out, and I'm not repeating myself again."
You flinched, holding onto the edge of the seat as if it would anchor you there. "No, You're not leaving me out here in the middle of nowhere. I'm not getting out," you replied, your voice firm despite the tremor behind it.
Without another word, Rafe climbed out of the driver's side and rounded the car to your door. The sound of the rain pounding on the roof intensified as he pulled your door open. In one swift motion, he reached in, grabbing your arm tightly, making you wince in pain. You tried to pull back, but his grip was too firm.
"Rafe, stop! Please!" you cried, your voice desperate as you clutched at the car door, digging your fingers into the edges, trying to hold on.
Ignoring your pleas, Rafe yanked harder, digging his nails into your skin as he pulled you from the seat until your feet hit the wet pavement. You stumbled, nearly slipping as he let go, and you could only stand there, drenched and shivering, watching him with wide eyes.
"Maybe you should ask Cam to come pick you up." he sneered before slamming the door shut and stepping hard on the gas. The tires spun momentarily, spraying water in your direction as he sped off into the night, leaving you alone on the empty road.
The silence that followed was thick and pressing; the only sound was the faint drumming of raindrops against the pavement. You felt as if you were standing outside of yourself, staring at this girl who looked so broken and small.
With a shaky breath, you fished your phone out of your pocket, fingers trembling as you scrolled to Cam's number. You hesitated for a second, feeling a strange, bitter sense of defeat. Rafe had already stripped so much of your self-worth; even calling Cam felt like another small submission to Rafe's control. But you couldn't stay here.
The phone rang twice before Cam's voice filled the line, warm and slightly sleepy. "Hey y/n?"
You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out at first. The sob you'd been holding back escaped, the weight of the night pressing down on you all at once.
"Hey, are you alright?" Cam's tone shifted instantly, concern flooding his voice.
You took a deep breath, fighting to keep your voice steady. "Can you… can you come get me?"
~~~~~
As you woke up, your heart continued pounding from your dream. It felt so real, and it was for you at one point, and it felt like torture to keep having to relive it again.
~~~~~
You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself as you looked out over the crowd. The night air was crisp, the stadium lights casting everything in a golden glow. You hadn't been to a football game in ages, and even though the noise and energy of the crowd were overwhelming, you were glad you'd let your friends drag you out here.
Your friend Bella leaned over, nudging you with a grin. "Isn't this so much better than moping in your dorm all night?"
You forced a smile, trying to match her enthusiasm. "Yeah, I'm glad I came." You meant it, or at least part of you did. They'd insisted you join them tonight, hoping to pull you out of the isolation you'd slipped into over the past few months. For a second, you almost didn't come, thinking of all the excuses you could make. But here you were, dressed in your school colors, surrounded by people who cared, trying to be normal again.
Yet, as you watched the players run across the field, your thoughts drifted to how much had changed. How you used to feel comfortable in crowds like these, carefree and loud. Now, it felt like a thin layer of normalcy you were trying to wear, hoping it would eventually fit.
As the game broke for halftime, you stood up. "I'm gonna grab some snacks. Anyone want anything?"
They all jumped at the offer. Mia gave you a list with a smirk. "Just think of it as your penalty for making us drag you out here."
Rolling your eyes, you headed for the concession stand, weaving through the crowd until you finally reached the line. It felt oddly peaceful to be alone, a chance to catch your breath from the excitement of the game and the effort of trying to act carefree.
But then, just as you stepped forward in line, a familiar voice behind you made your heart stop.
"Hey," Rafe murmured, his voice low and uncharacteristically soft.
You froze, debating whether to even turn around. You hadn't spoken to him since he ruined your breakfast last week, and you'd been determined to keep it that way. But something in his tone caught you off guard, and reluctantly, you glanced back at him.
"Can we talk?" he asked, hands shoved in his pockets. He looked almost contrite, but his eyes still held that edge, the exact look you'd seen too many times.
You crossed your arms, already feeling your walls go up. "What is there to talk about?"
He sighed, glancing away for a second before looking back at you. "I just think… we should put everything behind us. I mean, we're bound to see each other, and now that Topper and Mia are getting closer, it would be better if we could just… let it go."
Your jaw tightened. "Let it go? You mean forget everything you put me through?"
He shrugged as if that should be easy. "Look, that's just how I am, you know? You could never handle me—"
"You're right," you interrupted, your voice stronger than expected. "I couldn't handle the lying. I couldn't handle being with someone who hurt me just because that's who they are. I couldn't handle seeing you fuck another girl."
He barely flinched, his expression annoyingly indifferent. "You think you saw something. We were going through a rough patch anyway, and you know it."
Your hands shook as you clenched your fists, trying to keep your voice steady. "No, I saw it. You lied over and over and then acted like I was the crazy one for not believing you."
Rafe rolled his eyes as if he'd heard it all before. "Look, we don't have to keep going back and forth about this. I'm here trying to make things easier. If you want to keep holding on to some old grudge, that's on you."
You took a breath, forcing yourself to keep your composure. "Rafe, it's not a grudge—it's knowing who you are. I know you're never going to admit it, but I'm done pretending like you didn't ruin us."
He shrugged, dismissing your words with a half-smirk. "Fine, whatever you say."
Before you could respond, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing there, feeling both angry and strangely free. You'd finally confronted him, and he'd shown you exactly who he was—again.
When you returned to your friends, arms full of snacks, Mia looked at you curiously. " Is everything okay?"
You forced a smile. "Yeah. Better than it's been in a while."
When the game reached its conclusion, as you walked towards the stadium's exit, a familiar voice caught your ear.
"hey, y/n!" The tall brunette man called out to you.
It was Cam. The two of you had become friends since he picked you up after Rafe left you on the street. Well, a little bit more than friends. You wouldn't say the two of you were dating because you'd never put a label on it. Still, you had been ‘talking’ to him since the beginning of the year and sleeping in his room occasionally.
You stopped in your tracks, asking your friends to wait for you before approaching him. He was leaning against a wall by himself, smirking at you as you walked over. It felt good to feel wanted, but part of you knew anything with Cam would never work because you couldn't even picture yourself being in another relationship after Rafe.
"I fancy seeing you here," Cam joked in a mock British accent, making you both cringe and slightly giggle.
You rolled your eyes, but a grin tugged at your lips. “Nice accent, really nailed it.”
Cam chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “What can I say? I aim to impress.” He leaned closer, his gaze settling on you with that familiar warmth. “So, you’re actually out tonight. Didn’t expect to see you at a game.”
“Yeah, it’s… been a while,” you admitted, shifting slightly as his hand found your arm, his fingers lingering just a bit longer than necessary. A warmth spread from where he touched, and you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of something deeper than friendship.
His fingers trailed down to your wrist, tracing lazy circles with his thumb. “You should come out more,” he murmured. “I miss seeing you around.” There was a glimmer of sincerity in his eyes that made you feel seen like he actually cared about you—not just as a friend, but something more.
You were about to respond when you felt an odd weight on you, as though someone was watching. You glanced over Cam’s shoulder, and your stomach twisted as you locked eyes with Rafe. He was leaning against the far wall, his expression dark and unreadable, his gaze trained on the two of you with a sharp intensity that sent a chill down your spine. But he didn’t make a move to approach. Instead, he just watched, his jaw tight and his eyes simmering between anger and resentment.
Cam must have noticed the shift in your expression because he gently cupped your face, drawing your focus back to him. “Hey, you okay?”
You blinked, forcing Rafe out of your mind as you looked back at Cam. The concern in his eyes melted away the anxiety for a second. “Yeah, sorry,” you murmured, leaning into his touch just a bit. “I’m good.”
He smiled, brushing a stray hair behind your ear. “Good. ‘Cause I’ve been wanting to ask if maybe you wanted to go out sometime, just us. You know… something different?”
The sincerity in his voice and the gentle touch of his hand on your cheek made you feel almost safe as if you could finally move forward. You smiled, nodding. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
In your peripheral vision, you could still see Rafe standing there, unmoving, his gaze locked onto you. But this time, you didn’t look back. You stayed in the moment with Cam, focusing on his warm smile and its comfort, realizing maybe it was finally time to let yourself be happy.
~~~~~
You sat cross-legged on your bed, flipping idly through a textbook, when Mia burst into the room with a huge grin, practically bouncing on her heels.
“Guess what!” she announced, eyes shining with excitement.
You looked up, arching an eyebrow. “What’s up?”
“Topper invited me to the beach tonight,” she said, drawing out the last word with a delighted sigh. “And… he told me I could bring you, too.”
At that, you felt yourself go stiff. “Topper invited me? Why would he want me there?”
Mia rolled her eyes, crossing the room to sit beside you. “He’s just being nice! He knows we’re close, and he wants me to feel comfortable. And maybe he figured you’d be the best buffer in case things got, you know, awkward.”
You stared at Mia, skepticism etched across your face. “Mia, you know Topper and Rafe are best friends, right? You really think he just invited me along for the fun of it?”
Mia waved a dismissive hand, her expression somewhere between pleading and confident. “Look, I know what you’re thinking, but Topper promised me it wouldn’t be a big deal. Besides, this is about me and him. You’re just my plus-one, so I don’t feel like I’m getting in too deep alone.”
You folded your arms, still unconvinced. “And you don’t think Rafe’s going to be there? I haven’t exactly been dying to see him.”
Mia huffed, crossing her arms to match your posture. “Okay, I get that, but you don’t have to talk to him. Just be there with me and have a good time. We can stick together, and if he even looks at you wrong, I’ll drag you out of there myself.”
You could see how badly she wanted you to say yes, and you were tired of feeling like the shadow of your past with Rafe was lurking over everything. Maybe if you went, it would feel less like he was still dictating your life from a distance. Still, the thought of facing him—even at a crowded beach with Mia by your side—made your stomach twist.
“Fine,” you finally sighed, feeling your defenses weakening. “I’ll go. But if he starts anything, we’re leaving. Promise?”
Mia grinned and crossed her fingers. “Promise. And trust me, this is going to be good for you. Just give it a shot.”
……
༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶
Enjoyed my fic? Leave feedback! Comment/reblog!
Wanna see more? Check out my fic ‘i don’t smoke’
332 notes
·
View notes
Text
bsf!rafe waking up with morning wood
warnings: smut (mdni) maybe somnophilia if you squint i guess? morning wood, me trying something new bc i came up with this random blurb i might try out writing other blurbs like this??? so if you have any ideas or pairings you want me to write for pls lmk because as much as i love writing +2k word fics it's fun to rewind by writing shorter stuff too
wherever rafe went, you followed; and even though it annoyed some of his friends, they didn't dare to say anything about it to rafe, because the one time they did, he got so angry they thought they were getting their asses kicked.
everywhere, also happened to include his bed. it had started after you had accidentally passed out on his bed from how much you drank, and he didn't care if you were there or not, he was sleeping in his own bed. now, it had gotten to the point where you couldn't sleep without him, and vice versa.
but you weren't a couple, of course not. rafe wasn't one for relationships, and you were just his friend since childhood, and even if he fucked you into the mattress a couple of times per week, or the fact that he never allowed any other girl to be in his bed, or that he thought of you whenever he hooked up with someone, it was just friendship.
"come on, wake up pretty girl..." he mumbled into your shoulder as you started stirring awake, rafe holding up one of your thighs up slightly as his hand rubbed his hard cock against your panty-clad pussy.
"come on, rafe..." you mumbled sleepily, and the blonde pressed a small, warm kiss on your shoulder over the fabric of his t-shirt. "why'd you wake me up? can't you see that 'm tired..."
"princess.. i need you..."
"rafe, we already went three rounds yesterday..."
"please, baby..." rafe mumbled, pressing soft kisses to your neck, the action causing shivers to go down your spine, and you could feel your panties starting to get wet, sticking to your puffy folds. "i'll do anything... just need you so much right now..."
you looked at him with half-lidded eyes as he pressed lazy kisses on your neck, "anything?"
"anything for you, princess. including murder."
"will you buy me those vivienne westwood earrings i want?"
"hell, i'll get a matching necklace."
and that's how you ended up with your best friend on top of you, pounding into your already sore pussy from the night before, your face pressed against the sheet as you let out moans that got muffled by the pillow, a handful of your hair around his fist as you closed your eyes in pleasure, your fists gripping the sheets to try and anchor yourself as he spoke in a low tone with every thrust "such a good girl for me... you're mine... this pussy's all mine... no one's gonna fuck this pretty pussy like i do..."
yeah. just friendship.
7K notes
·
View notes
Note
one order for a vanilla birthday cake pleaseee!
kook!reader texting rafe “what position have you got her in?” when he takes too long to respond to a text
happy birthday, angel 💓
BSF!RAFE + KOOK!READER ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚
manicured pink nails tapped impatiently on the restaurant table. eyes glued to the bedazzled device with a glittery pout adorning her lips. this was so unfair. rafe would have a fucking conniption if she even thought about not texting him back. and now it’s been… seven fucking minutes? yeah, right.
the last time she left him on delivered for two minutes he was blowing her phone up and all grumbly the rest of the week, pounding her into oblivion for playing games. dont get her wrong; she loved it. being fucked within an inch of her life was her favorite pastime.
but now? rafe cameron was like the worst hypocrite known to man.
‘what position u got her in?’
‘Be so fr’
it brought a smile to her pretty face seeing his sassy reply. with a satisfied huff, she set her phone face down on the table. why not make him sweat? picking up her long island iced tea with a devious grin, she was right back into the conversation with her girls.
the table was alight with giggles and gossip — the pack of kook girls enjoying lunch together after before hitting the beach.
it was supposed to be an easy day, a break from all the confusion and feelings still swirling around princess and her tall, handsome “best friend”. and she desperately needed that. needed some semblance of normalcy before shit took off and everything on the island changed when the two most hated and loved rich kids finally get together.
so she didn’t even flinch when her phone vibrated once, twice, thrice. she only excused herself from the conversation with a smile when her phone buzzed in a rhythmic pattern — a phone call. bubbles of giddy excitement filling her tummy as ‘rafey’ showed on the screen with a point five angled photo of him looking pissed.
“‘kay— be right back, girls!” she sang, already standing with her phone in hand.
“he finally called you, huh?” melodie, a beautiful brunette in a lilac bikini top teased. the table giggled, all looking at princess and feeling a rush of girlish excitement.
“get your man, baby!” another girl, aliyah, borderline squealed.
princess flushed, feeling her body heat up at the prospect of rafe being ‘her man’. god, imagine! she waved them off embarrassedly, teetering away on her platform flip flops, pleasantly tipsy as she leans against the outside wall of the restaurant.
“hellooooo?”
her voice was sugary sweet into the phone, looking down at her nails and checking the polish for any chips. the warm timbre of rafe cameron’s voice rumbled through the speaker, directly pressed into her ear. she found herself wishing to feel his lips moving around the words and against the shell of her ear.
“you’re somethin’ else, dollface.” he mumbled and she could hear the smirk on his lips.
“aw, you didn’t say ‘hi’, rafe…” she pouted, biting back a laugh at the sound of his heavy sigh on the other end.
“hi. you’re somethin’ else.”
“hiii. why’s that?”
his laugh came through the speaker, all deep and settling into her bones like it always does. she hears the tick, tick of his blinker, meaning he’s driving somewhere in that big truck of his.
princess looks around at the marina, taking the sight of obx residents enjoying the still warm, early fall weather. hot enough to take a dip without the water being freezing yet. rafe continued on as she flitted her gaze around the area.
he ignored her question, instead asking his own.
“checked your location. you tipsy right now?”
a giggle escaped her glossy lips, head lolling slightly, “mmm, maybe… why?”
“go back in and pay. sent you one fifty.”
she froze, pulling the phone from her ear and seeing an apple pay notification. he always did this. not like she could just use her dad’s card or anything.
“rafe cameron—“
he cut her off, hanging up after and not letting her protest, “hey— pay and then come back out. know i’ll let ‘chu make it up to me, a’ight?”
it was like a reverse walk of shame — explaining to her friends why she was leaving early and why she was covering the whole tab. walking back out with her purse on her arm as the familiar rumble of his truck approached, petulant in the way her arms were crossed. he pulled up right before her, rolling down the passenger window and smiling in that frustratingly charming way. dickhead.
she hung up with a guffaw, not believing he actually showed up when she was hanging with her friends. the possessive gesture makes her heart jump then fall. very boyfriend of him.
“what the fuck are you doing here?”
“oh, that’s how you talk to someone who just paid for your lunch? get in.”
she scoffed, amused at his gall. even more so at the fact she listened — shoes clacking against the pavement. rafe leaned over the console, opening the door for her. he looks good and smells better. that cologne she bought him for his birthday last year that he seems to be wearing a lot recently. an intoxicating smell that makes her feel drunker.
a plaid button up, rolled up to the elbow and exposing strong, veiny arms causes her mind to wander as he leans closer to her.
“hey, gorgeous,” that low drawl sends goosebumps over her body, paired with a half smile that’s so pretty.
comfortable in the seat she’s become so familiar with, he closes the gap between them. giving her a kiss so casual and natural, it makes her fluffy lashes flutter rapidly. sticky gloss transfered on his mouth that he doesn’t even wipe away.
she’s even more confused when flowers are thrusted into her arms. princess blinks at him like a fish — feeling a warmth settle in her chest at the sight of her favorite blooms wrapped haphazardly in brown paper.
“they, uh— they were in this ugly fuckin’ plastic. know you hate that so… yeah,” rafe shrugs it off as he pulls out of the parking lot.
princess decides this is technically a kidnapping. especially because she’s never been more confused and lost in her life.
he leans back in the seat, driving with one hand lazily, confidently. a glimpse of blue eyes at her and she’s smiling wildly, bringing the flowers to her nose to smell them. princess leans over and kisses his cheek, feeling drunker on the moment and smell of his skin.
“i— thank you, rafey…”
rafe takes notice of how small her voice is, how vulnerable. he nods, switching hands to rest one on her leg. large, warm palm soothing her and pulling her out of her mind before she can even begin to cause herself to spiral.
he clears his throat, squeezing the plush, smooth skin of her thigh, “cowgirl.”
her furrowed brow is adorable. looking up from the bouquet in her lap and over at him in question. there’s a drunken slowness to her, a haze. he hums and pushes his hand higher — marking a mental note of how easily her legs spread to make room for him.
“that’s what position imma have you in.”
#rafe cameron#recrecrec#GAHD THIS WAS GOOD#when he’s possessive 😵💫🥰#and then the last two lines???#insane#anyways giddyup 🤠
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
i have so many things to say about this
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
He definitely talks you through it
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
Crying in the Country Club ch. VI
dark!dbf!Rafe Cameron x dark!f!Reader
Warnings: dubcon if you squint, oral (f!recieving), implied p in v sex, implied unprotected sex, drug use, abusive relationship, manipulative behavior, physical abuse, aggressive behavior, mention of previous attempted assault, ptsd symptoms, infidelity, age gap relationship, secret relationship, love bombing, mentions of baby trapping, reader calls Rafe ‘daddy’
You glanced down at your outfit one last time before steeling yourself to go inside. You knew that Rafe would like the short skirt you had picked.
After spending more time with him recently you had gotten a sense of the types of clothes he liked you to wear around him. Skirts and dresses were his favorites, along with any tight, low cut shirts.
Rebecca had never worn those types of clothes as long as you had known her and you knew that was part of the reason why Rafe loved seeing you walk around his house in your tiny skirts, paired with revealing blouses that left little to the imagination.
Luckily for you and Rafe, Rebecca’s therapist had recommended she attend late night group sessions a couple times a week, giving you the perfect window to sneak over and see Mr. Cameron.
It had become a routine for you at this point. You told your parents that you were hanging out with Charlie, and they never asked any questions. They didn’t realize that Charlie had been spending most of her nights at her boyfriend’s house.
Entering the code that Rafe had given you, you unlocked the door and the pulled it open, letting yourself inside as you looked around.
There was no sight of Rafe, and for a moment you worried that maybe you had been wrong about the day Rebecca had therapy until you heard the muffled sound of music coming from down the hall.
You quietly closed the door behind you before nervously reaching up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
Usually he would have been waiting for you in the living room with two glasses of wine and his charming smile that made you melt into his arms. The two of you would hang out and talk about your day for about half an hour before you would inevitably follow him into his bedroom.
Over the several weeks that you had been sneaking over, he’d never not met you at the door. Maybe he got caught up doing work?
You set your purse down on the couch, walking towards the source of the pulsing music. When you found yourself in front of Rafe’s office, his door slightly ajar, you couldn’t help but pause for a moment, not sure what to expect on the other side.
When you swung the door open, you froze in surprise, and your sharp inhale alerted Rafe to your presence.
He was sitting at his desk, which was clean and tidy, save for the several white, powdery lines that he was crouched over.
He dropped the rolled up hundred onto his desk, sniffing once before wiping his knuckle against his nostril as he stood up, never .
“Y/N…” he began, walking towards you as he took in the shocked look of betrayal on your face.
You couldn’t find the words that you wanted to say. For reasons you couldn’t really explain, your heart was pounding faster as Mr. Cameron got closer.
“Why are you..?” The rest of the question died on your tongue and you couldn’t bring yourself to say it.
Rafe took another step towards you and the chill that passed through your body reminded you of the horrible night at the party weeks ago, only this time Rafe was the one scaring you.
“Just- just calm down, okay, sweetheart?” His tone was even, kind perhaps, but the way that his fingers were twitching and balling into fists at his side and the jumpy look in his eyes made you feel nervous.
“Is that coke?” You asked again, cringing internally when your voice cracked with emotion.
Rafe stared down at you with an unidentifiable expression. His jaw clenched and you took another step back when he drew closer to you.
When your back hit the wall of his study, you wanted to cry, fear clenching your gut so hard you thought you might be sick.
You made a move to side step him and walk towards the door to his study, but Rafe’s fingers tightened around your wrist, forcefully pulling you away from your escape and roughly pushing you against the wall of his study.
“Wait, Y/N-”
Yelping in pain, you froze, tears springing to your wide eyes as you were transported back in time to the house party with Mason.
“C’mon Y/N,” he chuckled, slurring his words. “We both know you’re looking for attention.”
Your chest felt tight, anxiety beginning to pool in your gut. “I’m not-” you tried to get past Mason again only for him to shove you backwards a second time, this time much harder.
You couldn’t catch your breath, and your heart was racing so fast you felt dizzy.
Rafe’s hard grip on your wrist loosened and he released you, face falling as he took in your panicked state.
“Fuck- I’m so sorry, Y/N, I didn’t mean to do that.” He sounded so different than he had just a moment before and his demeanor changed so quickly you didn’t have time to question it. “Are you okay?”
He gently grabbed your arm, examining the red, irritated skin he had wrapped his fingers around. You whimpered when he ran his fingers over the spot and he immediately withdrew his hand.
“I’m-” you began before your throat closed up with emotion. The injury likely wasn’t that bad, but that didn’t change the feelings that accompanied it. You felt startled, hurt, and betrayed, but most of all you felt scared; scared of the man you had know your entire life who had shown you an unforeseen side tonight.
“I’m okay,” you finally forced out, feeling guilty as the words left your mouth, and you couldn’t stop the tears that had started sliding down your cheeks.
“I’m so sorry baby,” he repeated again, and the pain in his voice made your heart hurt. “Shit, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
“A buddy of mine gave me some of his stash to try for the first time,” Rafe rambled, reaching into his pocket to pause the music. “I didn’t think it was going to make me act like this.”
“Oh,” you paused and sniffled, wiping away some of your tears.
“S-so this isn’t something you do regularly?” Your voice was quiet and timid, but your heart was still thumping in your chest.
“No, no. Absolutely not. Just a one time thing because Topper kept talking it up.” He reached out a hand to brush your tear stained cheek and this time you didn’t flinch away.
“Y-you promise?”
“Yes Y/N/N, I promise. And I’m so sorry I grabbed you. Turns out coke makes me a bit…” he sighed, “aggressive, and I just got scared that you would get the wrong idea about this. About me.”
You swallowed, trying to catch your breath as you calmed yourself down.
“You’re the best thing that’s happened to me in years, Y/N.”
Your breath caught in your throat at that and you looked up at him with shiny eyes.
“I mean it, the last month has been amazing. And you’re on my mind more often than not, which drives me kind of crazy at times,” he chuckled at that and you joined him, completely understanding how he was feeling.
“You’re intelligent, funny, and so sweet at times it hurts. Not to mention how beautiful you are,” he added the last part with a wink, finally taking in the outfit that you had chosen to wear.
You blushed as he looked you up and down.
“I mean, fuck, you look gorgeous right now. I feel so damn lucky.”
Your stomach flipped at that, and you were secretly thrilled to be hearing him say all of the things you’d always wanted him to.
“I just, I dont want this one stupid mistake to ruin what we have.” You could feel the regret in his voice chipping away at your fear.
Rafe’s eyes flicked from your eyes to your lips, and when he met your gaze again you gave him a slight nod.
He closed the distance between you, one of his large hands tangling into your hair as your lips met.
It felt gentler and more tender than usual, and you couldn’t help but melt into his arms when he deepened the kiss. His other hand hand found your back, pressing you closer to him when you moaned against his lips.
When he finally pulled away, you let out a soft, disappointed whine. You opened your eyes to see him looking down at you almost dreamily. Up close, you realized how big his pupils were right now.
“Y/N?” Rafe’s arm was still wrapped around your back protectively. The rest of the house was quiet and you shivered in his arms at the intensity of his stare.
“I love you.”
You blinked in surprised silence, shocked to hear the words that you had wished to hear for so long whispered by him.
Before you could reply, his lips were on yours again, stealing your breath with another passionate kiss. With one hand on the small of your back to steady you, he slowly walked you towards his desk, only pulling away from you to sweep the contents on top of the desk onto the floor.
Rafe easily lifted you onto the desk, pressing kisses to your lips and cheek before trailing to your neck. You whined when he nipped at a sensitive spot, squeezing your legs around his waist as he sucked at your tender skin.
“I love you,” he groaned into your neck in between sloppy kisses. When he rolled his hips, pressing his clothed hard on to your core, you gasped, grinding your hips against him.
“I love y-you too,” you stuttered, finding speaking difficult as his scent clouded your thoughts. His large hands roamed down from your waist and under your mini skirt, squeezing your ass and pulling you in closer to him.
You could feel your panties growing slicker as Rafe kissed your neck, and you were almost sure he could feel it too as you greedily bucked your hips against him.
Rafe broke away, panting as he took in your flushed face for a moment before lowering himself to his knees in front of you.
His fingers brushed against your thighs before hooking around your panties and you lifted your hips to help him pull them down your legs. He splayed his hand across your stomach, lightly pressing and you laid back against the desk, heart racing as he pushed your skirt up.
Rafe spread your legs, lifting them to rest on his shoulders. The blond leaned closer and you shivered as he trailed gentle kisses down your inner thigh, stopping before he reached your core only to do the same to your other leg.
You were practically quaking with anticipation by the time he finally tasted you, and you whined his name as his tongue teased your clit.
His warm tongue slid up and down your slick folds and Rafe groaned at your sweet taste, one arm wrapping around your thighs to bury his face deeper.
He lapped at your clit hungrily, eyes rolling in the back of his head as he devoured your soaked cunt.
“Mm, y’taste so good,” he mumbled, and you arched your back off the desk when he slid his middle finger into you.
You whimpered as you squeezed around him, and Rafe held you in place as he curled the thick digit inside of you. His tongue never stopped flicking against your tender bud and the vibrations of his moans sent waves of pleasure through your entire body.
He slowly began thrusting his finger inside of you, and you rolled your hips to meet his pace, whining and squeezing your eyes shut when he circled your clit with his tongue.
The sounds of him groaning as he sucked on your clit made you gush around his finger. You cursed softly between gasps when he pushed his ring finger in, stretching you out before he even reached his knuckles
Rafe pushed his fingers deeper, holding your thighs in place as you squirmed on the desk. You tensed when you felt a new sensation, something hard and cool dragging inside you, but when you realized it was Mr. Cameron’s ring —his wedding ring— you bit back a moan, tilting your hips into his touch.
He curled his fingers as he thrusted them into you, the pace building as your cunt grew slicker and his tongue swirled around your clit.
Your hand came to his shoulder, digging your nails into his tanned skin as his skilled fingers massaged your walls. Each stroke made the pleasure between your legs build, and you felt embarrassingly needy even as Rafe fervently lapped up your juices.
“Daddy-” you whimpered, your nails clutching at his shoulders and leaving red marks on his back.
Rafe pulled away, replacing his mouth with his thumb, which circled your clit as he pumped his fingers in and out of you.
He could help but watch your face as he fucked you with his fingers, his pants getting tighter as your mouth fell open and your pretty eyes met his.
“Yeah? You gonna cum all over daddy’s fingers?” He growled. “Making a mess all over my desk.”
You moaned loudly when his tongue found your clit again, and you arched your back off the hard wood when his fingers curled deep inside you, hitting a spot that made you clench around him.
“Fuck I’m-” you whimpered, so lost in the rhythm of his thrusts that you couldn’t think straight.
Rafe’s thick fingers were stretching you out so deliciously, and the feeling of his tongue teasing your clit had you twitching in his arms.
You couldn’t stop the tension that had been building inside you from bubbling over and you whined as you came undone. Rafe groaned against your clit as you tightened around his fingers, pulsing with overstimulation as he continued lapping at your sensitive bud.
Light headedness flooded your brain, and you felt dizzy when he finally pulled away to kiss you. You leaned into the kiss, allowing him to messily push his tongue into your mouth as his thumb traced along your jaw. The aftershocks of euphoria made you feel almost high and you enjoyed the taste of yourself on his tongue as his lips slid against yours.
When Rafe drew back, you let out a disappointed whine, but the realization that he was unzipping his pants to free his hard cock had you eagerly lying back down against the desk as you spread your legs.
He pushed into you with one stroke, stretching your slick, sensitive cunt out around his length, his lips smothering yours to swallow your moans.
The package arrived at noon two days after Rafe had told you that he loved you for the first time.
You were sitting in your bed reading a book when your mom knocked on your door.
“One second!” You planted your hand on the bed beside you to sit up, wincing momentarily at the dull pain that pulsed in your wrist. Pulling your sleeves down to cover up the bruise, you climbed out of bed and opened your door to see your mom holding a black gift bag.
“Long sleeves in this weather?” She half joked before you could ask her what she was holding.
“It’s chilly in the house, Dad keeps it at like 60°,” you shot back, hoping your discomfort didn’t show in your voice or face.
You curiously eyed the gift bag in her hand, happy to change the subject.
“What’s that?”
“I don’t know, I just found it on the porch… but it looks like it’s addressed to you,” she winked with a joking tone. “Do you have a secret boyfriend you’re not telling us about?”
Your mom laughed and you chuckled too, but your heart skipped a beat.
If she only knew the half of it, you thought to yourself.
“I’m sure it’s just a stupid prank. Maybe some frat boy I met at a party or something,” you tried to sound nonchalant, but you eagerly took the bag from her, not wanting to give her any chance to snoop inside.
“Thanks mom,” you said, and she walked away as you shut the door behind you.
Barely able to breathe, you carried it to your bed, taking the tissue paper off the top to reveal a smaller, blue bag inside.
Your eyes nearly popped out of your head when you read the logo on the bag and you reached inside to pull out the small matching box that was tied up with a white ribbon.
No fucking way, you thought to yourself as you untied the ribbon and opened the Tiffany & Co. box.
Inside, laid out on a bed of satin, was a necklace with a small rose gold pendant that to the unsuspecting eye could have been an abstract shape, but you knew exactly what it meant.
In your excitement, you accidentally knocked the bag over on your bed and the small letter that tumbled out caught your eye.
You ran your nail under the wax seal of the envelope, pulled the letter out, and unfolded it.
Dear Y/N,
A beautiful girl like you deserves beautiful things. I hope you enjoy this gift and wearing it reminds you of me.
Love,
R.C.
You had to stop yourself from giggling with happiness as you read and reread the letter again and again.
No matter how many times you reminded yourself, you still couldn’t believe it.
Rafe loved you!
You could feel all of your dreams coming true as you remembered how those words sounded on his lips.
Setting the letter down, you picked up the box again, gently pulling the necklace out and walking over to your mirror to try it on.
After fastening the small clasp on the back, you beamed as you admired the gorgeous necklace against your skin.
As you looked at yourself in the mirror, you couldn’t help but imagine how you would look pregnant. You pictured yourself glowing, full and round with Rafe’s child, one ringed hand resting on your belly along with your husband’s as he stood behind you.
There was nothing in the world that mattered to you more than having that life and you believed more than ever before that you were going to make it happen
No matter what it took.
#dark!rafe cameron#dark!rafe cameron x reader#dark rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron smut
309 notes
·
View notes
Text
MDNI | 18+ content cw: noncon - graphic descriptions, rafe rapes reader (pls read at your own discretion), explicit sexual content - unprotected PinV, sort of a character study?
rafe was always rough. it wasn’t that he didn’t know, he knew: ugly brute force rearing its sadistic head with every tick of rafe’s shoulders and wring of his bruised hands, it was that he didn’t have a choice.
didn’t have a choice when his mother left her coddled child with an aching heart and glossy eyes, rafe’s runny snot stains sticking to the sweeping fabric of her dress as he attempted to hide his flushed face.
didn’t have a choice when his fathers own worn hand came striking down over and over and over, ward’s inscrutable eye and unachievable standards seemingly not enough to make rafe feel bad enough.
rafe didn’t have a choice when you said you’d leave him. when he pushed you against the door frame while plaster dug into your back, hands mimicking those that clung onto the fabric of his mothers dress when he grabbed at your shirt and tore at the fabric for release. you couldn’t do this to him, you couldn’t do this to him. and suddenly you weren’t asking him to stop, weren’t slapping him away in annoyance: you were fighting, clawing your nails into the veiny stents of his forearms until skin peeled, your shrill voice growing unstable while you cried for release.
“shut the fuck up, you’re doing this to me. you’re making me do this,” rafe shunned.
the words strung out like putty, oozing from one ear into your brain, coating the inside of your head until everything seemed a little fuzzy, then dribbling out of the other cavity with a painful ringing.
“rafe, please, rafe ‘m so sorry, i’m sorry.” you think you’ve subconsciously started praying, hands warped to worship in front of you— but it’s just rafe, grabbing at your wrists to throw you down onto the bed.
rafe shrugs, feigns indifference because you must know that you’re the reason he’s doing this, none of this would’ve happened if you hadn’t been so stupid. he pulls down your panties, spits in his hand— all too familiar, maybe it’ll remind you too— and lines himself up, your hole clenching tightly at the unwanted intrusion, pathetically breached by the thick head of rafe’s cock, the most concentrated form of his anger.
you shriek again, slap at his chest until the skin reddens raw. and then rafe starts thrusting, scraping at your insides in unlubricated agony, cock pummelling so deep the pain strikes up your spine and forces your arms to lay dormant by your sides.
you’re crying now, silently, meaningless tears streaming down your face and pooling on his fresh sheets, you wonder if the maid who’d change them would notice the tears, maybe the blood.
rafe watches you punishingly, he looks like he’s in pain as well, pupils screwed up cryptic emotion. “you stupid bitch,” he sniffles, “you’re making me do this.” he lets out a few stray tears, the salty tang making you flinch when they inevitably land near your mouth.
when he finishes you feel yourself uncontrollably clench around him, pushing out his release as well as his softening dick. he flops down onto the bed next to you, blowing at the sweaty strands of hair clinging to his forehead, “next time you try and pull this dumb shit i’ll kill you y’hear me. i’ll fucking get your ass if you ever try and leave me again.” he pulls you into him after that, self satisfied smirk lazily gracing his lips as he pushes against your naked, aching body, sticky with sweat.
#oh my fucking god#this is CRAZYYY#psycho analysis?? in dark smut?? its more likely than you’d think!#*psychoanalysis#love love love this wow#possibly the best rafe smut i’ve read character wise#this is spot on#recrecrec
858 notes
·
View notes
Text
Death Grips - R.C
Dark!Frat!Rafe Cameron x f!reader
Warnings: Dv( physical abuse),NONCON, Mentions of Dv, Cheating, mentions of cheating, abusive relationship, gaslighting, manipulation, frat!rafe, blackmail, emotional abuse, underage drinking, he’s an asshole guys
Summary: inspired by ‘death grips’ by Etta Marcus/ After a messy break up with Rafe Cameron your freshman year of college, he can’t seem to leave you alone. Whether you’re awake or asleep
A/n: hey guys I haven’t wrote in so long but I had this idea in my head for so longgg, hope you enjoy cause this is a series!!<3
Part: I
……
It had been four months since you broke up with him, yet he still haunted every aspect of your life through your dreams. You were beyond tired of waking every morning with a pounding heart and a bed drenched in cold sweat from memories plaguing your mind. You always thought the most challenging part of a breakup would be the actual breakup, but it wasn't; no matter how hard you tried, you knew you would never forget the heartache Rafe put you through, and you had come to peace with that, what you weren't prepared for was his looming presence in your life even though he wasn't even physically present, that was the hardest part.
“You all packed up?” your mom asked, snapping you out of thought as she peeked through the crack of your door, only her eyes showing.
You had been so lost in thought that you had almost forgotten you were supposed to be finished packing up for school by now.
“Yeah...” you nodded as you quickly bagged up some remaining things that had sat on your bed.
“Well, almost,” you chuckled as your mom entered your room,folding up clothes to help you finish.
“Listen,” she said softly, placing a warm hand on your shoulder. “I know you're really stressed about going back. "
You sighed as she spoke. Part of you felt guilty for the way things went last semester. You always tried not to blame yourself, but you couldn't help but feel like you put yourself in the situation, so it was your fault.
“But this year is going to be better, okay?” You simply nodded in response as she brought you in for a hug. “Freshman years like a trial run.” she giggled warmly.
You had never been in a serious relationship before Rafe. The two of you had started dating at the beginning of your freshman year.bYou met him in your psych class, which you had been failing horribly. It's not like you were stupid. You could easily understand the material if you tried, but you were lazy and didn't feel like it. You had to guess Rafe was failing too, because when your professor partnered the two of you up for your big midterm, which was 30 percent of your grade, you got 72 percent.
Although getting 72 percent wasn't exactly a grade to be proud of, it was enough to pass, and it seemed like a victory at the time. Rafe had this way of making even the most minor victories feel significant, and it was then that you started to see him in a different light. After the project, you both started spending more time together, studying, hanging out, and gradually, what began as a partnership for class grew into something more.
Your relationship with Rafe had always been complicated, to say the least. He was a junior, part of a frat, and you were just a freshman with like two friends, and everyone knew Rafe. So when you started dating it was cool that everyone started to know you.
Rafe was the worst, something you only fully recognized in hindsight. At first, his attentiveness felt like care, and it was easy for you to fall into his traps because you had never been with anyone else. but it quickly morphed into control. He picked who you could hang out with, what you could wear, and even how you spent your free time. You knew you didn’t like that but it was your norm.
Arguments between the two of you were frequent and intense, His yelling at you to “get away from him” turned into full-fledged pushes across the room. What started as him grabbing your wrist a little roughly turned into him using that exact grip to drag you across the cold floor as you kicked your feet, trying to get away. It was a classic case of an abusive relationship. Ignoring the red flags till they hit you in the face. Literally. The breaking point was when you caught him cheating on you mid-fuck.
It was devastating, not just because of the betrayal, but because it forced you to confront the reality of your relationship with Rafe. The breakup that followed was messy and painful, with Rafe oscillating between begging for forgiveness and blaming you for his actions. Not only were you heartbroken, but the stress of your relationship caused you to fail most of your classes, forcing you to have to retake them the whole summer.
So yeah, you were stressed to go back to school, not even stressed; you were terrified; after you and Rafe broke up at the end of last semester, you didn't leave your dorm for anything other than class, so you really didn't have to see him or interact with him. This year, you couldn't do that; the self-isolation would only worsen things and make you more depressed; you wanted to have experiences, go to parties, and hang out with your friends. The only thing was Rafe was a horrible boyfriend, so he had to be an even worse ex. Even though you wished and hoped that the two of you could just ignore each other and stay cordial, you knew Rafe better than that.
-----------
You sat in your dorm, headphones on, blasting music as you focused on finishing your English paper. Looking up, you glanced at your roommate Mia, waving you down and clearly trying her best to get your attention. Slightly giggling at her efforts, you paused your music, sliding the headphones off your ears.
“Oh my god, finally!” she mocked, sighing before sitting on the foot of her bed with a playful smirk.
“I've been trying to get your attention for 20 minutes!” the curly-haired girl exaggerated as she threw her head back.
“Oh, please! I haven't even been working on this for 20 minutes!” you bantered back, throwing your pillows at her.
“Yeah, right, like I believe that. Everybody knows that all you do is work all day.” Mia giggles playfully, throwing the pillow back at you.
She wasn't wrong. You had told yourself that this semester would be different; you would go out, make friends, and party, yet you were still glued to your dorm a month into it. You tried to push yourself; you really did, but the constant dreams about Rafe didn't help you feel better about potentially running into him.
“That's not true..” you awkwardly laugh as you nervously scratch your neck.
“Yes, it is,” the brunette slowly says, looking around as if missing something.
“No, it's-” you try to get out before being cut off.
“Then prove it.” Mia cuts you off, standing off her bed to walk over to you. “Zeta’s throwing tonight, and I don't wanna go alone.”
When Mia mentioned Zeta,Aka Rafes frat, your heart sank, but you tried to stay calm. The last thing you wanted was to end up at a party where he would almost certainly be, but Mia had no idea how bad things had gotten between you. She knew you and Rafe ended on bad terms, but she didn’t know the full extent of what you’d been through.
"Zeta?" you repeated, trying to mask your anxiety. "Why do you want to go there?"
Mia gave you a knowing smile, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Because Topper's been trying to get with me for weeks now, and he invited me tonight.”
Your stomach churned at the mention of Topper. He and Rafe were close, practically best friends, which meant Rafe would definitely be at the party. The idea of seeing him again, especially in a place that held so many bad memories, made you feel sick. But Mia had no idea how deep your anxiety ran, and to her, this was just about a fun night out and a cute guy.
"Mia, you know Rafe’s going to be there," you said carefully. "I just… I don’t know if I’m ready for that."
Mia’s face softened, and she shifted, leaning forward. "I know things didn’t end well, but you can’t let him keep you from living your life, right? You deserve to have fun, meet new people, and not let some jerk control how you feel."
You bit your lip, staring at the floor. She was right, in a way. You couldn’t hide forever. But the thought of being in the same room as Rafe, of possibly having to interact with him, made your chest tighten with fear. Mia had no idea just how bad things had been between the two of you. To her, Rafe was just a messy breakup, not a nightmare that still haunted your every step.
"I know, it’s just…" you trailed off, unsure of how to explain the weight of it all without giving too much away.
"Look, if it gets weird or if you feel uncomfortable, we’ll leave. I promise. But maybe this is your chance to show him that you’ve moved on, that he doesn’t have power over you anymore."
Her words hit you, and for a moment, you considered it. Maybe going to the party was a chance to reclaim something, to face Rafe without fear, and show him—and yourself—that he no longer had a hold on you. But a part of you still hesitated, the fear gnawing at your resolve.
"Okay," you said after a long pause, your voice barely above a whisper. "I’ll go. But if things get too much, we leave, no questions asked."
Mia’s face lit up, and she pulled you into a hug. "Yes! Don’t worry, we’ll have fun. We’ll stick together, and it’ll be fine. I promise.”
You forced a smile, trying to ignore the knot in your stomach as Mia rushed over to her closet to pick out outfits. You hoped she was right, that tonight could be a fresh start, but deep down, you couldn’t shake the feeling that being so close to Rafe again would stir up things you weren’t ready to confront.
--------------
The bass from the music thudded through the ground as you and Mia walked up to the Zeta house. Even from outside, you could hear the chaotic hum of voices and laughter mixed with the pounding beat of whatever random early 2000s white boy song was blasting through the speakers. Your nerves tightened with every step, and you had to remind yourself to breathe.
Mia seemed unfazed, practically glowing with excitement. She gave you a quick, encouraging smile as she adjusted her skirt. “Okay, we’re just going to have fun, remember? Topper’s probably already inside, and we don’t have to stay long if it gets too crazy.”
You nodded, though your heart was racing faster than you’d like to admit.
The front door was wide open, people streaming in and out like they were at some exclusive club. Mia grabbed your hand, pulling you inside with a grin.
The moment you stepped through the door, the atmosphere swallowed you. The smell of beer and sweat mixed with the sharp scent of alcohol. The dim blue lights illuminated the crowd of bodies packed together. It was overwhelming, and for a second, you considered turning around and leaving before anyone noticed you were there.
You thought you pregamed good, but apparently not good enough. The minute you looked around, you felt too sober to be there. Mia was already scanning the room, probably looking for Topper, as you tried your hardest not to scan the room and end up making any unnecessary eye contact with you-know-who.
“Oh, he's right there,” Mia yells over the loud music, reaching for your hand.
You tried your best to down the alcohol from the water bottle you and Mia had brought, the bitter taste burning your throat as she pulled you toward Topper. You knew the only way you'd make it through the night was if you drunk enough. Topper knew you, and you knew him—and you were almost sure he’d mention your presence to Rafe if he hadn’t already. This whole situation felt like a setup, a trap you’d willingly walked into.
When you finally reached Topper, you stood awkwardly behind Mia as she and Topper made small talk. You tried your hardest not to look at him; even though he wasn't Rafe, he was still a huge reminder of him, but every time you found yourself accidentally looking at him, he was already looking at you. You found it very strange, even looking at Mia a few times to see if she noticed. It sent a shiver down your spine; you already felt anxious about being here, but how he looked at you made it seem like he knew something you didn't.
Not long after Mia had been chatting with Topper, she turned toward you drunkenly with a big, mischievous smirk.
"Hey," she slurred slightly, leaning in close to you as if sharing a secret. “Topper wants to show me his room upstairs. You cool waiting for me here?" Her voice was filled with a mix of giddiness and anticipation.
Your stomach dropped a little, but you forced a smile, trying not to let your anxiety show. The last thing you wanted was to be left alone in a place like this, especially with the looming threat of Rafe showing up at any moment. But Mia was your friend, and she deserved to have fun.
“Yeah, sure,” you said, your voice sounding steadier than you felt. “I’ll just hang out on the couch or something.”
Mia’s grin widened, and she gave you a quick, sloppy hug. “You’re the best! I won’t be long, I swear.”
Before you could respond, she grabbed Topper’s hand and dragged him toward the stairs. You watched them disappear into the crowd, your pulse quickening as you realized you were alone in a house full of people you didn’t want to see.
You looked around, searching for a spot to sit. The couch in the corner seemed the safest option, so you headed that way, trying to ignore the unease creeping up your spine. Sitting down, you took another swig from your water bottle, hoping the alcohol would kick in soon and numb the nerves threatening to take over.
And it did; about 20 minutes later, you felt on top of the world. You had made it off your spot on the couch, made a whole new group of friends for the night, and started dancing like no one was watching, but someone was, and you started to feel it. The party's energy had begun to lift your spirits, and you felt freer than you had in a long time.
But then, in a split second, that sense of freedom evaporated.
It was as if you could sense him before you even saw him. That familiar tension gripped you as your eyes instinctively scanned the room, and there he was—Rafe, leaning casually against the far wall. His eyes were already on you, a predatory gleam in them, and your heart sank. You wanted to leave immediately. You looked down at your phone, immediately texting Mia that the two of you had to go. Your new friends even looked at you, concerned at the change in your demeanor, asking you what was wrong, and in your drunken state, you told them.
“My fucking ex is here, and he's staring at me!” you stressed to the group of girls over the blaring music.
“Girl, that's amazing! This is your chance to make him jealous!” one of the girls slurs with a glowing smile as she takes your hand. her comment earning nods and smiles of agreement from the rest of the group.
“No, you don't get it. He’s like crazy!” you whined as you looked down at your phone, waiting for a response from Mia. “and my roommate hooking up with his best friend.”
Sure, if Rafe was a regular ex, you would see him at a party and maybe be happy for a petty chance of revenge, but he wasn't a regular ex. You didn't even wanna interact with him yet intentionally piss him off, but you obviously couldn't just leave your friend, so you had to just try your best to ignore him, and you tried, but he made it pretty fucking hard.
He wasn’t alone. Surrounded by his friends, Rafe looked every bit the confident, cocky guy you had once fallen for, except now, that same confidence felt menacing. The smile tugging at his lips was more of a smirk that sent a chill down your spine.
He knew you had noticed him.
And as soon as he caught your eye, he kicked his act into high gear.
Rafe started laughing louder, nudging the guys around him like he was the life of the party. Every gesture felt exaggerated, every movement too calculated. He wanted to make sure you saw him and felt his presence as much as possible.
You scoffed and rolled your eyes at that. It was sad that he was acting like this. I mean, how immature was he. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much seeing him affected you, so you turned away, trying to refocus on dancing and getting back into the moment. But it was too late. The room felt smaller and more claustrophobic, and no matter how much you tried to immerse yourself in the music again, you could still feel his eyes on you.
And unable to resist, you glanced back.
Rafe had taken it a step further now. One of the girls nearby had found her way beside him, blonde, tall, and obviously intoxicated. She pressed herself against him, laughing as she draped her arms around his neck. Rafe barely acknowledged her, his attention still fixed on you. It was deliberate.
Your stomach churned.
And then, as if to solidify his little performance, Rafe pulled the girl closer, gripping her waist. The girl giggled, clearly enjoying the attention, oblivious that she was being used as a pawn in Rafe’s sick game.
You tried to look away, but the weight of his gaze held you in place.
Then, without breaking eye contact, he leaned in and kissed her—slow, deliberate, and intense. His hands roamed her body as she melted into the kiss, all while Rafe's piercing eyes remained locked on yours.
It felt like a punch to the gut. The room seemed to spin, and you suddenly felt like you couldn’t breathe. He was doing it on purpose. Every touch, every movement, every second of that kiss was for you, to hurt you, to remind you of the control he used to have and still has over you.
And it was working.
“Y/n, are you okay?” Your heavy eye contact with Rafe was broken as you turned around to face Mia with teary eyes. You didn't say anything, but she clearly saw what was upsetting you from a mile away.
“Oh my god, he's fucking disgusting.” she gasped, looking directly at Rafe with disgust painting her face. “Let's go right now.”
On the walk back to your dorm, Mia went on and on about how what he did should confirm the breakup was the right choice and how he just did it to try and make you jealous, and you knew that. You didn't need her to tell you, but that didn't make you feel better. He had caused you enough pain, so much pain, so why was he still going? When would it be enough?
“How was Topper?” you questioned curiously, honestly hoping selfishly that he did something that would make her never wanna see him again.
“Horrible.” she cringed, mock gagging, waiting for your reaction.
Really?” you chuckled, trying not to beam from ear to ear.
“No, the dick was average, but he's hot,” she giggled, looking up as she reminisced on the hook-up. “But why were you so happy?” she full-on laughed, crossing her arms over her chest
--------------
“Have you seen Rafe?” you asked around the party, looking around every corner for signs of your boyfriend.
You were supposed to go back home for the weekend for a doctor's appointment, but your doctor actually canceled the appointment, so you stayed on campus instead. You had tried to call Rafe multiple times to let him know you were still at school, but he hadn't answered. You believed it was because the two of you had gotten into a fight that morning, and Rafe was known to give the silent treatment, so you thought you might as well just find him yourself if he wanted to play that game.
You navigated through the crowds of people, your heart racing as you called out to a few acquaintances, hoping one of them had seen Rafe. He had been so distant lately, and the tension between you from earlier that morning hung like a thick fog.
“Have you seen Rafe?” you asked one of his friends, who shrugged and waved you off, lost in a conversation. You sighed, the knot in your stomach tightening. The last thing you wanted was to spend the night worrying about where he was, especially after you fought.
“Maybe he’s in the back,” another friend suggested, nodding toward a dimly lit hallway. You nodded, grateful for any lead, and made your way in that direction, your pulse quickening with every step.
As you reached the end of the hall, the music faded slightly, replaced by the muffled sound of voices. The door was somewhat cracked. You could hear muffled moaning, grunting, and clapping. You gasped, hand clamping over your mouth hard. You didn't wanna believe it, you couldn't, but there was only one way to know. Hesitating momentarily, you leaned in closer, peeking through the small crack of the door. Your heart sank as you recognized Rafe’s frame as he fucked some blonde bitch from the back, and if seeing what could be his frame didn't confirm it was him, the “fuck Rafe that feels so good.” did.
You felt as if the world around you had come to a standstill. You knew your relationship with Rafe was far from healthy. Anyone could see that, but you never expected him to do it. To betray you in such a hurtful way. Your mind started to race. Had he cheated before? Was it the whole time? Did everyone know but you? How could someone treat you like shit every single day yet be the one to cheat on you? It wasn't fair, and to be honest, you felt embarrassed.
You turned and rushed away from the door, tears welling in your eyes and blurring your vision. You needed to escape this suffocating atmosphere. As you moved back into the main party area, you tried to shake off the weight of what you had just witnessed, but it clung to you like a heavy blanket.
You stumbled into a group of your friends, busy dancing and laughing, oblivious to your turmoil. One of them, noticing your teary face, hugged you. “Hey, are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost!”
“I’m fine,” you lied, forcing a smile that didn’t reach your eyes. But deep down, you were anything but fine. You felt hollow, betrayed by someone you trusted more than anyone else.
As you moved to the crowd's edge, hoping to catch your breath, you couldn’t shake the image of Rafe with that girl. How could he do this to you?
You grabbed your phone, fingers trembling as you dialed his number, your heart racing at the thought of confronting him. But it went straight to voicemail.
------
“y/n!” You woke up to Mia shaking you awake, your heart beating out of your chest, and your sheets dripping in sweat. “God, are you ok?” she chuckled with a worried undertone.
“Y-yeah... Yeah, I'm fine.” You yawned, looking at your roommate with a mixture of confusion and anxiety. That was the third time you had that dream since the party. You didn't realize how much seeing Rafe kiss that girl really affected you until you went to sleep the next day.
“Well, it's 9:30; breakfast closes in 30 minutes,” Mia informed you, staring at you, waiting for a response or some form of movement to show your getting up. “That means let's go.”
Every time you had a nightmare, it made you lose your appetite the following day, reminding you of how you felt during that time. In fact, it made you lose the urge to do anything, and the nightmares did come more often than not. So when you made your way to the dining hall, you only planned to get a small bowl of cereal and maybe some fruit.
You and Mia sat down next to each other, opting to eat there. You had faced your fear of going to the dining hall multiple times, never seeing Rafe there, and everything went smoothly until it didn't.
“Oh my god, Toppers here.” Mia gasped, eyes sparkling with excitement as she made eye contact with him and waved.
You looked up, confused as to why he was even at the dining hall when you knew his frat had better food than the campus could ever provide, let alone why he was there ten minutes left before it closed, but it clicked when you saw Rafe right behind him with an empty plate in hand. Part of you felt like they were there to antagonize you, but at the same time, you felt that thought was semi-narcassistic because why would they go through all the effort. But it was Rafe, and this was all a game to him; it was fun to him.
As Topper approached, Rafe lingered just a bit behind, his blue eyes scanning the room with that familiar cocky smirk plastered across his face.
“Hey, ladies,” Topper said, his tone light and teasing. He leaned against the table, completely at ease.
“Hey, Top.” Mia chirped, seemingly oblivious to the tension hanging in the air.
Rafe finally stepped forward, his casual demeanor masking the intensity beneath.
“Mind if I sit?” he asked, shooting you a sideways glance.
You hesitated but finally nodded, wanting to keep the peace for Mia’s sake. “Yeah, sure.”
He slid into the seat beside you, and for a moment, the conversation flowed easily. Rafe leaned back, looking relaxed as he chatted with Mia and Topper. You tried to focus on your cereal, but his presence loomed over you, reminding you of everything you wanted to forget.
“So, what’s everyone up to later?” Rafe asked, his gaze flickering between you and Mia. “Got any fun plans? Or is it just another boring day in paradise?”
You rolled your eyes slightly, hoping to brush off the comment. “Just studying,” you replied, trying to keep your voice light.
“Like always?” Rafe smirked, leaning closer, his tone teasing but laced with something sharper. “You know, I thought you’d be over us by now. Seems like you still care way too much.”
The comment hit you like a punch in the gut, and honestly, it was weird to you that he even noticed you'd been glued to your dorm. It just showed you that he was still hung up on you. Your heart raced, anger bubbling to the surface. “Wow, really? You think it’s about you?” you snapped, the words slipping out before you could think twice.
Rafe shrugged that infuriating smirk still plastered on his face. “I mean, it’s not like I’m the one who’s still depressed about it,” he replied, his tone smooth dripping with amusement at the fact he was getting to you.
“Unbelievable,” you said, standing up abruptly, the chair scraping loudly against the floor before You gathered your breakfast—cereal, fruit, and all—and headed toward the trash. You tossed it all into the bin. “Enjoy your breakfast,” you called over your shoulder, the disbelief mixed with fury driving you forward as you stormed out.
-----------------------------
༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶
Enjoyed my fic? Leave feedback! Comment/reblog!
Wanna see more? Check out my fic ‘i don’t smoke’
#dark!rafe cameron#recrecrec#ahhhh i love this and im so excited to see where this story goes#the writing was so good i literally felt anxious during the party scene#this reader is v relatable too
448 notes
·
View notes
Note
in crocodile tears, would coryo ever knock the reader up and marriage trap her?? after his money situation gets better of course.
i'd imagine he'd basically force her to be his girlfriend and also have his way with her before that though.
maybe after marriage he has housewife kink lol
Crocodile Tears headcanons
Warnings: noncon (rape), forced pregnancy, unwanted pregnancy, abusive relationship, arranged relationship (kind of), forced relationship, controlling behavior, housewife kink
100% yes. Reader’s parents already think very highly of him so I think he could pretty easily bribe them into giving him Reader’s hand in marriage (especially if he had gotten her pregnant at that point). But her parents wouldn’t consider it bribery, they just take Coryo at his word and think he’s doing a nice thing for their daughter, who gets to marry someone better off than they are.
Bc Reader never exposed him for cheating, he never got sent off to District 12, he won the plinth prize, and was offered some good job opportunities post grad.
I could see Coryo w a majorrrr house wife kink for poor reader, who went from top of her class and almost winning the plinth prize to a pregnant house wife who is dependent on Coryo.
Despite now knowing that Reader got to the top without sexual favors or anything like that, he still holds onto that resentment and entitlement that he felt for such a long time, and he punishes her for being better than him by forcing her into marriage and pregnancy.
Post pregnancy- He likes exercising control over her and making her do humiliating things like cleaning in short skirts that he picked out, making her scrub the kitchen floor on her hands and knees, putting her in charge of all of the household chores and taking care of the baby (all the while taking it out on her when she’s too depressed to follow through)
Getting her pregnant again is a major threat that Coryo leverages over her after she gives birth to their first child. He knows that she would do anything to not get pregnant again, so he holds it over her for a while and uses it to keep her in line.
Until eventually he can’t stop himself anymore, giving in to his own desires, holding her down and fucking her again and again, cumming deep inside her as she cried and begged and squirmed beneath him.
Because she was going to be his perfect little housewife, whether she wanted to or not.
#coriolanus snow#dark!coriolanus snow#crocodile tears#crocodile tears headcanons#dark coriolanus snow#dark!coryo#dark!coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus snow x reader
125 notes
·
View notes
Text
being the butcher's basement baby
"I'm in control. Of everything. When you eat, when you drink, when you breathe air, when you get fucked. All of it."
"If you behave, you'll be rewarded, but fail to do anything I say and there'll be consequences. Do you understand?"
260 notes
·
View notes
Text
❀ 𝐁𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐁𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲 ❀
Kinktober fic 3: Cooper Abbott ❀ Kidnapping/Gunplay/CNC
𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠!
a very special thank you to @xxbimbobunnyxx for the chat sesh that inspired many of the special little details in this, love you dolly!! ♡ 𐙚 ‧₊˚
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: dom!cooper, stalker!cooper, bimbo!reader, kidnapping, dubcon, stockholm syndrome, voyeurism, gunplay, masturbation, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink, cnc “forced” breeding, dacryphillia, daddy kink, creampie, choking, bruising, fem + afab reader, chloroform mention, alcohol mention, oral fixation, degradation, pet names (bunny, sweetheart), oral sex mention (m + f receiving), mutual obsession
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.7k
𝐀𝐜𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐛𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝
𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞-𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐲 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐬, 𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐤𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐦 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐞, 𝐝𝐮𝐛𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐧𝐨𝐧-𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 “𝐧𝐨” (𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝), 𝐠𝐮𝐧𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲, 𝐝𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 “𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐝” 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐈𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐮𝐩𝐬𝐞𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞.
Cooper had a soft spot for you, he always had, from the first day he saw you walking past the fire station on your way home. He’d become obsessed, learning your daily routine, your work schedule, what days you liked to go out with your friends. He’d stay out all hours of the night to watch you through the window of your apartment. He loved that you were a night owl, staying up late to dance around your bedroom, watching movies late into the night, even putting on a show for him every time you got new clothes, flashing him your pretty breasts and perfect ass without even knowing it, because you always kept your blinds open, silly girl.
He spent weeks buying things to match the decor he saw around your apartment, pretty pink curtains to put over the small basement windows, a blanket with little bunny motifs all over it, ruffled satin pillow cases just like the ones you had on your bed, even going from pet store to pet store to find a dog bed large enough to comfortably fit you so you wouldn’t have to sleep on the hard concrete like the rest of his victims. You weren't a temporary thrill the way the others had been, no, he planned on keeping you forever.
You were so sweet, so innocent, so full of life. On Halloween night, when you bounded down the stairs of your apartment building dressed as the cutest little bunny he’d ever seen in a white and pink babydoll dress, thigh high stockings, and pink platform heels with fluffy ears and a tail to match, he knew it was the night. While you were out with your friends, doing shot after shot, Cooper was persuading your landlord with his fireman’s badge to let him into your apartment to check for a gas leak. Once inside he perused your belongings, admiring your delicate eye for decorating before gathering some of your clothing and shoving them into his duffle bag, being sure to grab your stuffed bunny off of your bed before giving your landlord the okay and returning to his vehicle parked across the street.
He waited, watching the passersby until he saw you stumbling alone down the sidewalk, almost tripping in your heels as you braced yourself against a lamp post. He slipped from the car, jogging across the street to offer you a helping hand, his heart racing at the way you smiled up at him and giggled a drunken “You’re hot.” against his shoulder as you fell into him. He almost felt bad, placing the chloroform soaked rag over your mouth. But the way your eyes fluttered so sweetly to sleep shook all of that away, knowing you were meant to be his.
You fought him for a while, kicking and scratching and even biting him the one time he’d tried to brush your hair away from your face that first week of captivity. You resisted him as much as you could, spending every moment you had alone those first few weeks searching for ways to escape, but the more time you had alone with your thoughts, the more you started to believe that life with Cooper wouldn’t be too bad.
He was kind to you, attentive, making sure you ate the food he prepared for you, always taking a bite first to show you it was safe. He brought you books to read while he was away, turned on a mix cd of your favorite songs he’d studied your spotify account for weeks to perfectly curate. He gave you your privacy when you showered, providing you with the hair and bath products you used before he’d taken you, he brushed your hair out, letting you use your heat tools to style it and do your makeup to make you feel more like your usual self under his supervision to be sure you wouldn’t hurt yourself.
He didn’t try to touch you before you were ready, waiting for the day you made the first move, when he knelt down beside you to give you your dinner and you leaned in to kiss him, just a soft peck on the cheek to start. He was handsome, even drunk you knew it that first night, and watching him haul his laundry up and down the stairs each week, arms flexed with his grip, your carnal needs were growing stronger. You wanted him, needed to know if the size of his member matched his staggering height, and as the months went by, you grew more wanton.
Cooper felt like he could’ve had a heart attack the day he opened the surveillance stream on his phone to find you sprawled across your bed, legs spread and dainty fingers pumping in and out of your wet heat, your other hand rubbing quick circles over your swollen clit as you let out the softest, neediest whimpers he’d ever heard. He had to excuse himself to the bathroom at work, making sure his headphones were in to hear you when you came, his fist pumping his cock furiously over the toilet as he watched you fuck yourself desperately, your nose scrunched adorably with the way you concentrated on your movements. When you came, Cooper groaned so loud he knew he’d have to come up with an excuse when he walked out, because what left your mouth made his head spin. You didn’t just moan, you cried out “Daddy!” clear as day.
That was the beginning of him testing the waters, letting his hand linger on you a little longer each time, feeling your skin heat up beneath his touch, until the day you said so sweetly he felt he could’ve died right there, “I-I need help.” and finally asked him to touch you. You trembled underneath him, body on fire with every skirt of his fingers over your skin until they reached your most sensitive areas, rubbing expertly over your clit as his free hand pushed your shirt up over your chest, his mouth finding one of your nipples and gently sucking until you were arching into him, the dual stimulation too much for your touch starved body. You came embarrassingly quickly, clinging to him like you might fall to pieces if he ever let you go.
Cooper spent the next few months figuring out what exactly made you squirm, going out of his way to be sure he just had to wash the flannel he was currently wearing while loading the washing machine full of his laundry, taking his time undoing each button one by one, watching the way you tried to sneakily look over the top of your book to catch a glimpse of his shirtless physique. When he’d gone back up the basement stairs you shamelessly stared at his back, watching the way his muscles shifted with every step he took. He did everything he could to drive you crazy, your requests for his help in relieving your frustrations growing more and more frequent until it was an almost daily occurrence.
He quickly caught on to what kinds of touch made you react the most, and what he found above all else was that underneath that sweet exterior, you had a strong penchant for pain. He’d dig his fingers into you when he went down on you, nails biting into the plush of your thighs until you bruised, your cries of pleasure louder when he pressed down on them. You arched your back the first time you let him sink his thick cock into you, exposing your delicate neck and silently begging for him to wrap his hand around it until he took the hint, squeezing gently as he looked into your eyes, something sparking behind them with the breathy gasp that left your parted lips.
“Little bunny, you like when daddy hurts you, don’t you?” He taunted, watching your eyes light up at the given name, your heart soaring as you finally had names for your dynamic, nodding eagerly as much as you could with his hand around your throat and his hips still slamming into yours.
You became more obedient over time, subconsciously waiting for the rumble of his truck in the driveway when he arrived home from work, your heart racing in anticipation every time you heard it. You found yourself fixing your hair, trying on what different outfit combinations you could make with the few pieces Cooper had managed to take from your apartment, spraying your perfume right before you knew he’d come down the stairs, doing everything you could within your confines to be as appealing to him as possible. Little did you know that he found you appealing in all forms, but seeing you put in that extra effort for him, doing your best to please him, brought him a level of satisfaction he’d never experienced before. You took pride in being his perfect little basement bunny, and he took pride in being your daddy.
You were made for him, had to be, he was sure of it. You were perfect, so willing to adapt, open to letting him play your body like a violin every chance he got. Fucking you was like the sweetest sonata with the way your cunt cradled his cock so perfectly, responding to his every movement the way an instrument does to those of a classically trained musician, walls pulsing rhythmically around him every single time you invited him into your orchestral harmony.
He hardly thought it could get any better until the day he came down the stairs with his handgun holster still attached to his belt, barely even giving a second thought to it as he walked quietly across the concrete floor, watching you snooze peacefully in your little nest of fluffy baby pink blankets and pillows.
“How’s my little bunny feeling?” Cooper’s gentle voice and soft caressing hand against your cheek woke you from your slumber, the cold emanating off the concrete basement wall prompting you to pull your plush blanket tighter around your scantily clad frame, only a baby pink tank, white frilly shorts, and your fuzzy white bunny socks to keep you warm.
“M’okay daddy, just a little cold.” You replied softly as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes, your view of his strong build becoming more clear. He dropped into a squat next to your bed and cupped your chin in his hand, bringing your gaze to his.
“I’ve got another blanket and some sweaters I picked out just for you coming in the mail sweetheart, do you think you can wait a couple more days?” You looked up at him, nodding and stuttering out a “Yes daddy.” through chattering teeth, your body shivering as you sat up and the blanket slipped from your shoulders.
“If you’re a good girl, Daddy might just let you sleep in his bed upstairs tonight, would you like that?” He caressed your cheek, watching as you nuzzled into his touch and nodded eagerly. He smoothed your hair away from your face, your eyes wandering down his chest to his waist before stopping on an unfamiliar sight.
Your eyes went wide when you caught a glimpse of the gun on his hip. He saw it, that same spark behind your eyes he’d seen the first time he choked you, and he couldn’t resist the urge to press the issue as you continued to stare at the weapon.
“Do you want to see it?” His tone was one that would typically be used to address a curious child, knowing how much you liked the condescension. You nodded hesitantly, eyes fixated on it when he carefully withdrew the firearm from the holster. He turned it over in his hand, letting you examine it before brushing the slide and barrel against your cheek, making you shudder. “It’s not loaded.” He remarked, watching your shoulders relax, taking that as a sign to push you a little further. He nudged the muzzle against your lips, dragging your bottom lip down with it teasingly before muttering an experimental “Open.”
You obeyed, slowly opening your mouth until Cooper was able to begin to slide the barrel into your mouth, your front teeth just barely grazing over the front sight as it sunk deeper, stopping when the trigger guard bumped against your lower lip.
“Suck.”
You did your best to service the weapon the way you did Cooper’s cock, but the cold metal on your tongue was making it hard to move your tongue smoothly along the slide, your jaw instinctively trying to pull away. You continued sucking, just bobbing your head with hollow cheeks as you looked into his eyes, only a short distance from your face as he stayed down at your level. He loved watching you humiliate yourself just for him, willing to put yourself through all sorts of degrading acts just to see him smile lovingly at you the way you always hoped he would.
He withdrew the weapon, looking over the way your spit shone on the edge of the muzzle and halfway up the barrel. He drew it back, aiming it at your forehead. You trusted him wholeheartedly, but the action still made you tremble in fear, uncertain if he was lying about the gun being empty.
“Roll over, bunny. Ass in the air, now.” Your brain barely registered the order, still too focused on the firearm aimed point blank at your skull.
“Are you going to behave? Or do I need to keep this gun pointed at that dumb little brain of yours until you learn to comply?”
“No, I mean yes! yes daddy, I’ll be a good girl! I’m sorry!” The fear in your voice made Cooper’s cock twitch, steadily straining more and more against the dark denim of his jeans. He laughed in amusement at how quickly you shifted to your hands and knees, adrenaline coursing through your veins as the gun left your line of sight. You waited patiently as he paced behind you, just taking in the sight of your round ass in those tight ruffled shorts before abruptly gripping your hair and pushing your face into the plush of the bed, your back arching down to accommodate the harsh angle.
Next thing you knew there was foreign pressure against the increasingly embarrassing wet spot on the gusset of your shorts, rubbing teasingly against your folds through the thin layer of fabric. You rarely wore underwear anymore, and today was no exception, only your shorts separating you from being penetrated. You pushed back against what you thought was Cooper’s hand until the cool chill of metal grazed your inner thigh, making you whimper in shock. He gripped the waistband of your shorts, yanking them over your ass to gather at the bend of your knees, acting as a makeshift restraint to prevent you from crawling away.
You were exposed, cold air settling on your impossibly wet pussy, only heightening your sensitivity as the metal of the gun prodded at your folds. You shuddered, reaching for your stuffed bunny, hugging it tightly to your chest for comfort as your pussy clenched around nothing, your fear quickly turned into desperation, the necessity to be fucked growing increasingly apparent through your uneasiness. Cooper ran the muzzle through your heat, coating it in your arousal before pushing slowly into you, the gasps of disbelief and pleasure alike echoing from your throat amazing him. He knew you were dark, but he never thought you’d let him go this far.
He thrust the short barrel in and out of the tight ring of muscles right at your entrance, watching you devolve into a mumbling, moaning mess, keeping you perched on the edge of stimulation, not giving you enough to work toward an orgasm but continuing to push the gun in as far as the trigger guard would allow, teasing you until he had you absentmindedly rocking your hips back against it.
Once Cooper decided he‘d had enough of his fun, he removed the weapon from your heat before placing it on the floor and sliding it across the concrete, out of reach from both of you but just barely remaining in your sightline.
He quickly undid the buckle of his belt, shoving his pants and briefs down to free his aching cock, it practically directing itself to your waiting cunt in front of it. You relaxed into the bed beneath you, the heat rising in your body enough to warm you from the frigid cold of the basement as you eagerly waited for Cooper to finally fill you.
“Did you enjoy that, dirty girl?” His voice sounded distant through the blood pooling in your ear drums but you gathered your scattered thoughts enough to whimper a needy “Yes, daddy.” while nodding what little you could with your cheek pressed to the cushion between you and the ground.
“Then that greedy little pussy of yours is going to love this.” He practically growled, stalling with the tip of his cock just inside your entrance for only a moment before pushing forcefully inside of you, your walls spasming at the sudden yet familiar intrusion. His pace was steady but hard, taking his time to draw almost completely out of you before slamming back in, his fingertips gripped tightly into the plush of your hips.
“She’s a needy little thing, just like you, you know. She was gripping the barrel of my gun for dear life, I almost felt bad taking it away from her, but I think she likes my cock even better, don’t you?” He spoke about your cunt as if it had gained sentience, was its own person. Something about it made you feel less than human, and it made the knot in the pit of your tummy tighten even further. You buried your face in the blanket bunched next to you, trying to hide from him despite the way he reached spots inside of you no one else had ever been able to.
“If you’re not gonna speak, I’m gonna have to listen to whatever your sweet little pussy says, think I’ll give her whatever she wants tonight.” He drew his hand back before landing a harsh smack to your ass, drawing a muffled yelp and an extra firm squeeze of your cunt from you as he watched the raised outline of his handprint form on your tender flesh.
“She likes pain, bunny.” He stated matter of fact, his hand snaking under your hip to find your neglected clit, the swollen bundle of nerves finally getting the attention it so desperately needed. Your walls fluttered around him in response to the focused circling of his expertly trained fingers, milking his cock for everything it was worth, your bodies melding together in the most primal way.
“She likes pleasure, too.” He laughed, increasing his pace until he felt the familiar grip of your cunt on the verge of orgasm, pulling him in with every contraction of your walls around him.
“You hear that? She’s telling me she wants me to put a baby in her.” He leaned over your arched back, his words raining down over you like a heavy downpour. You gasped, eyes rolling back at the provocative statement.
“What little bunny? You like that? Want Daddy to pump your little pussy full of cum?” He laughed again, taking great enjoyment in pushing your buttons, your body literally begging for it in every carnal sense.
“N-No, Daddy, please don’t!” You managed to push the blanket you’d been muffling yourself with aside to feign protest, putting up an imaginary fight.
“Your pussy is saying otherwise, bunny. She’s begging me to give her my babies.” His hand slapped at your clit, making you jolt and cry out again, tears slipping past your waterline from the almost overwhelming amount of stimulation.
“No, no, no! I don’t want to get pregnant daddy, please don’t do it!” You sobbed, your head spinning as he hit that soft spot deep inside of you over and over and over, unable to stop yourself from moaning as tears streamed down your hot cheeks.
“Oh listen to you cry, you're just too cute sweetheart, now I’ve gotta knock you up.” He dripped sickeningly sweet condescension through gritted teeth, a low growl sitting at the back of his throat waiting to be set free.
“You’re gonna give daddy a whole litter of baby bunnies.” He groaned, hips slamming against your ass so hard your skin reverberated back against him, your whole body convulsing as it betrayed every thought in your mind, an orgasm stronger than any you’d ever had before coursing through your every nerve ending as a sobbed scream ripped from your tired throat.
You could feel his cum fill you to the brim as he came with an animalistic groan, the warm substance dripping down onto your trembling thighs when he pulled out. You wanted to collapse info the floor but your body wouldn’t let you, still frozen in the aftershocks of your orgasm. You felt Cooper’s large hands on your lower back, gently pushing you to lay flat on your tummy before laying next to you, one arm wrapped around your waist as he looked at you, waiting for you to finally come down.
“Did I do good, daddy?” You asked barely above a whisper, your throat sore. He smiled, brushing a loose lock of hair behind your ear, that tenderness he held for you showing again.
“You did amazing, sweetheart. Let’s get you up to bed, you definitely deserve it.” He rose to his feet, helping you up on shaky legs before guiding you over to and up the steps, his hand remaining glued to your lower back to remind you who was still in control despite his soft spot for you.
—
tagging: @xxbimbobunnyxx @babygorewhore i@hereforthehitsbaby @thebutchersbitch @userchai @hibiskooks @strangererotica @pinastrihaven @acidqueensstuff @dirtylittlefairytales @batgirlofficial
please comment or message me if you’d like to be tagged in my future cooper abbott/adams fics!
337 notes
·
View notes
Text
I’ll kill young Spencer if you say anything in front of them. If you send a text or if the police show up, I’ll kill him. I think you know I’m not bluffing. I’m in control. I don’t know what you think you’re doing.
JOSH HARTNETT as COOPER ADAMS in TRAP (2024) dir. M. Night Shyamalan
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
feeling so normal about how big he is compared to the swat officers
220 notes
·
View notes
Text
and what if i said this is hot ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
7 notes
·
View notes