instantcoughy

[instantcoughy]

Me, when I see a fic written in first or third person, i'm trying to be IMMERSED. 😩

i DESPISE stories written in first person. the “i“ makes me cringe unironically.

[instantcoughy]

don’t move | r.c

Tw: 18+ smut, hate sex, rough sex, p in v, fingering, violence, choking, degrading, name calling (slur,bitch ect), domestic, c0ckwarming , praising, mental b0ndage, mean!rafe

basically just feral <33

synopsis: You’re trying to escape the house whilst arguing with rafe but he won’t let you get away without a fight

a/n: Sorry it’s not 100% proof read, and this is my first rafe smut i’ve done so let me know your honest opinions :) ty x

“i swear to god y/n if you dare. if you dare leave this fucking house!“ Rafe snarls from across the kitchen island as you begin to stumble back to your feet and contemplate twisting the knob to the front door.

You’re petrified, but you needed to get out of this house and away from Rafe. the constant war that was going on between you and rafe for the past couple of months had brought you to breaking point.

Rafe was, once again, back using cocaine heavily. He’d always manage to break his habit for months at a time, and this time you thought maybe it was for good…However, When Ward decided to cut off all of what rafe had left, due to his accidental loss of money within the business. It turned rafe psycho. You’d been with rafe for 3 years, and you’d thought you’d seen the worst. but this time was different.

Tears stream down your face and past the bloody wound that resides along the bottom of your lip. The tears seem to sting the opening slightly as you feel your face grow hotter. This isn’t the first time Rafes hit you. But it’s certainly the hardest. And when he’s hit you before, he’s almost instantly apologetic, but tonight Rafes eyes no longer reside his soul. He’s switched.

“P-Please Rafe, Stop!!” said almost screaming, desperately, whilst cracks formed in your voice. “you need me y/n” rafe patronised “you’re fucking nothing without me, get the fuck back here now, you bitch!” he spits. but you run, out the door with the keys to the truck you managed to take from rafes pocket the moment you realised he was about to have another outburst.

you wrestle with the keys whilst stumbling bare foot on the mud outside the mansion. You fall onto the dust and drop the keys. It’s pitch black, and you’re unable to see clearly, the only light that glares ever so slightly is the one seeping through the open door to the mansion of the boy thats held you there unwillingly for too long.

You was unable to hear the footsteps that had krept up behind you due to the loud pounding of your heart inside your chest. “fucking slut” he spits as he steps his boot onto the fingers you was using to locate the keys. you wince in pain as rafe puts all his body weight onto your hand. “i told you not to leave baby” he coos whilst looking down at you and tilting his head slightly. Rafe holds eye contact, he looks to be in awe as tears still stream down your face and whimpers escape your lips from the pain you’re experiencing. Rafes large hand grasps your jaw, big enough to rest his thumb and fingers on each side of your cheeks. He then slowly digs his fingertips into the sides of your face and elevates your body up towards his. “i think it’s time you come back inside”.

Rafe grabs you by the fabric of your top and with no hesitation, drags you along the dirt, whilst you squirm and wince in pain. he drags you all the way back into the front door of the mansion. Your legs and arms bruised and grazed, and your clothes now blood stained.

you felt exsausted, but sobs and whimpering still managed to escape your lips. Now laid helplessly in the hallway you beg “Rafe please baby please, this isn’t you i know you you don’t want to hurt me rafe…You don’t want to do this to me, please-please” But before Rafe could’ve even processed what you was saying he’s halfway down the hallway and into the kitchen.

Now petrified to move you lay still in the hallway. After hearing rafe snorting, what youre adiment is cocaine, he reappears, Shirtless, and holding a long woven wrope wrapped around his fist. “So you decide to obey me now and stay put like a good girl?” Rafe states before unapologetically grabbing your left ankle and dragging you through to the dining room.

Rafe dumps your body and runs his hand over his head before he takes his cigarette packet out of his back pocket and lights a cigarette. holding the cigarette between his lips he begins to unravel the rope, wrapping it around the heavy wooden dining table leg. He then begins to wrap the wrope around you ankle, tightly. you beg and squirm and kick.“what the fuck are you doi-“ but before you can finish, your head thuds on the floor as rafes palm collides with your cheek “shut. the. fuck. up” he huffs, rolling his eyes. “jesus fucking christ y/n, you never learn?” he says whilst walking away from you and taking a drag of his cigarette.

You’re now unable to move from the floor with your ankle tied to the table leg, you just watch Rafe pace up and down, puffing on his cigarette, until he stubs it out on the wall and walks back over to where you lay.

Rafe kneels onto the floor, placing his knees at either side of your torso. Petrified and unsure of his next move,you move your head to one side but lay completely still “mmmm what a good girl” rafe coos whilst he begins to trail his hands from your waist to the bottom hem of your top. Rafe begins to lift up your top, revealing your naked tits. Your nipples begin to harden due to the exposure of the quickly changed temperature and rafe lets out a shakey breath.

Your breaths begin to become faster as you begin to notice rafe growing larger and larger through his pants, and even though your petrified of a potential violent outburst from rafe, you can’t help when your stomach fills with butterflies as you imagine the girthy length that rests inside.

Rafes eyes don’t move from your tits as he begins to flick your hard nipple back and forth, occasionally twiddling it between his index and thumb. “I love when you don’t question me y/n i love when you just lay there, all pretty for me as i do what i please. You’re mine” Rafe says, still not taking eyes off your chest.

The way rafes words race around your mind, as much as you hate when rafes like this, there’s somthing about him praising you that makes you weak. You’re so disgusted with yourself knowing you’ve just let him treat you like shit but you know your pussys becoming more and more sticky in your panties as he speaks.

You still lay there absolutely still, as rafe begins to rub himself through his pants before unbuckling them and letting them fall just past his upper thigh. as well as his boxers. His shaft springs up and you get a glimps of his precum shimmering at the end of his tip. Rafe throws his head back whilst he gives himself 3 long strokes over your body. He then begins yanking your trousers and panties down simultaneously, sending pain up your leg as he takes no care in how your legs unable to move due to being tied down. But we’ve established by now rafe doesn’t care about hurting you. if anything it gets him off.

“aha ohhh fuck” rafe chuckles, his eyes dart too your sticky wet folds “it looks like my girl enjoys obeying hmm?” he mocks. tracing his middle finger over your outer lips gently, gathering the already spilt juices from your pathetic cunt. Rafe brings his hand up and forces his fingers into your mouth, wriggling them around the tip of your tongue and then tracing them back around your nipples for a 2nd time.

“do you taste good my sweet girl?”

Your head tilts back and your hips cock up as you allow the pleasure to rush through your body.

The sound of a slap echoes through the dimly lit room and a stinging pain engulfs the surface area of your cheek “don’t. fucking move you slut” rafe spits. loosing his patients he wraps his fist around your throat and abruptly shoves his fingers past your dripping folds and enters the walls of your cunt. You can’t help but whimper slightly, However rafe squeezes your throat so tight you’re pretty sure he was unable to hear it.

Your walls expand as your body aches for something larger to fill your tight hole. Rafe finger fucks you rough, making your body move loosely around his thick fingers. rafe groans as he takes his hand off your throat and begins stroking himself whilst still finger fucking your pussy, getting off to the sensation of how tight u was around his fingers and the squelching sounds that are made everytime he thrusts his fingers in and out.

“mmmm fuck baby” he growls as he pulls his fingers out of you. rafe pulls you close to him by your thighs, unaware of the pain it causes you whilst still attached to the table. but he couldn’t care less, all he cares about is filling your hole with his cock. feeling if you become wetter the deeper he goes. he loves using your pathetic little body, your body is helpless and weak compared to his, and he likes to make sure youre aware. “goood girl, good giiiirlll” he emphasises as his cock slowly enters your cunt. you gasp and your pussy never gets usto the size, it always manages to tear you open slightly, causing a slight stinging pain as he thrusts in and out of you, getting faster and faster he grunts simoultaneously “that’s my sweet girl, stay still for daddy whilst he fucks you senseless” “mmmm”

You’re already so close, and rafe can tell. he proceeds to tell you how good your pussy feels and that you’re all his and that’s all you ever will be. that’s what your purpose is, to serve rafe, in anyway he wants.

“i can feel you tightening around my cock you slut” he says with pleasure “you can cum for me but don’t you dare fucking move” rafe demands “i swear to god if you fucking move i’ll have to carry on fucking you even when it fucking hurts” he threatens.

You beging to feel the sweetness rush over your body, starting in your head and making its way down your body. You fight the urge to jerk your body up towards rafe so his cock goes deeper, you resist the urge to moan his name or dig your fingernails deep in his back to keep him in position. You fight the urges and your orgasm takes over your whole mind, the only thing you can do to express how you truley feel is roll your eyes back into your head whilst your pussy gushes, leaving your cream to rest on rafes cock. He grunts once more before you feel his cum shoot inside you and fill your walls. You moan in pleasure and rafe settles next to you, but still enough to keep his cock inside your pussy, not allowing his cum to escape, as a sign to show you that you’re his.

You’re his slut here to keep his cock warm

please feel free to repost if you enjoyed 🥹 <3

[instantcoughy]

like father, like son

WARNINGS: dark!rafe cameron, d*mestic vi*lence, manipulation, gaslighting

Tags: established relationship, daddy issues for both reader and rafe, canon ward (boooo!🍅)

Summary: Rafe looses his temper because you don't want to move in with him quite yet… I wc: 4.3k

Notes: inspired by this, tbh there may be mistakes but idc. tumblr is giving me sm shit rn so idk if this is gonna even show up lol, fingers crossed.

!!! 18+ ONLY !!! AGELESS BLOG's & MINOR's who interact (that means even liking/reblogging this post) WILL get BLOCKED

You set the wine glasses in the sink, careful not to break them. As you turn on the faucet, you feel Rafe press up against you. He casually invades your space to place a kiss on the side of your forehead.  

“He really cares about you, you know?”

“I do baby.” you murmur, as you rinse out the red residue. “I appreciate how he treats me like family, it’s nice.”

Rafe’s father is the ‘he’ you’re referring to. The first time you’d met him you were under the impression that he’d  be uptight and arrogant. His business brings their family great wealth, and people with such money have a certain way of acting. You knew from first hand experience with your own father, before he passed. 

Your dad was far from perfect but he’d never done anything horrible to you, ever. You were his princess, and he was practically your idol. Well… up until you realized that even though he was perfect to you, he wasn't like that to others. He lacked faithfulness and was a lair. As you grew older, you began to notice more things. Like how he wasn’t attentive, how he was entitled, and how he hardly listened to most of the things you’d tell him. After he passed was when you truly started to differentiate between him as a father and him as a person. 

Since then, you found yourself less trusting of older men, especially rich ones. Considering where you live though, it’s merely impossible to steer clear of them. More often than not the demographic proved your point whenever you found yourself in the same setting as them. 

To your surprise though, Ward was different. He made an effort to get to know you as an individual. It feels like he sees you as your own person and not just some extension of his son. More importantly he never makes you feel like you’re an obligation. When you speak he listens. When you need advice, you know you can go to him. He also constantly checks in on you, and ensures you never feel left out. Within the year you’ve been with his son, you can feel in your heart that Ward’s grown to genuinely care for you. And oddly enough, you felt the same for him. 

“That’s because you are family” Rafe assures you while pressing his lips to your shoulder. You can feel his hands wander from your hips and up your blouse, as you lather up a glass. 

“Babe” you playfully laugh at the affection, squirming under his touch. “Are you trying to get us in trouble?”

His sole response is a hum, then he continues to feel you up. 

Usually you adore Rafes affections. But right now you’re all too aware that it’s not just you and him in the house. In the distance you can hear Ward arguing with someone in his office. The impromptu business call cut lunch between the three of you short. Hence why you were cleaning up. 

“I don’t know, I think he’s pretty occupied.” Rafe teases and you don't say anything to that. 

His hand roves along your tummy and all you can imagine is the disappointed look on Ward’s face if he were to find the two of you in such a compromising position. The thought makes you stiff, and Rafe must've taken notice because almost immediately after his touch disappears from your skin.

He remains close though, choosing to lean against the counter right beside you, watching you closely as you finish with the last glass. You shut the faucet off and tilt your body in his direction, taking notice of how he’s gazing down at you. Appearing deep in thought.

“What are you thinking about?” You ask softly, closing the small distance between you both.

He momentarily looks away from you to stare off ahead at nothing. You lean into him patiently waiting for a response. There was a subtle shift in energy in the spacious kitchen, and an almost foreboding feeling that you chose to ignore. 

He straightens to his full height, tilting his head as he scratches his jaw. “Earlier. You said something, and I’ve been thinking about it.”

“Did I say something wrong?” you joke aiming to lighten the mood. When he doesn’t laugh, you raise a confused brow. “Wait- did I say something?”

The way his eyes dart to yours unsettles you. The irritated look on his face tells you that you may have said the wrong thing. 

When it comes to your boyfriend you're usually pretty good at navigating his feelings, however you’re not perfect. It was something you’d learned to do quickly, after realizing how intense his emotions can be. Like when he would come to you sobbing, you knew just the right things to say to get him calmed down. Same when he was mad, you knew how to talk him down before he made others suffer. Rafe’s endless ability to feel, good and bad, is one of the things you love most about him because it shows that he is imperfectly human. He’s different from your selfish, ingenuine peers. 

His arms cross over his chest, and he glances over you, “You tell me.”

A slight weight settles in your chest and you start to feel pressure to figure out what exactly you said. You think back to the short lived lunch. You remember saying how you were proud of Rafe for moving up a position at Cameron development… You recall the conversation about your birthday approaching soon… Then it dawns on you. 

You remember the glare he gave you when you answered his fathers question. It was subtle, and you assumed that it was because of what his dad asked, not about what you said... 

“Is it what I said about us moving in together?”

He erupts at that, “Course it is y/n. What kind of answer was that? Do you know how embarrassing that was?” 

You blink at him in awe, not understanding. You thought you worded it perfectly. But, apparently you guys weren't on the same page.

You speak slowly, “Babe, I didn't mean to embarrass you.” You think about your next words wisely but before you can put them together he’s hurling you another question at you.

“Why don’t you think we’re ready?” The question sounds almost accusatory.

You hold back a sigh, and look at the marble floor. There’s so many reasons… yet you lump them together in too little of an explanation. “Living together is a big step.”

When you meet his gaze again his expression is unreadable. Which in your case is not good being that you rely so heavily on it. You dart between his eyes searching for any kind of hint to how he's feeling, but it was like everything had been washed away. He appeared numb. Bleak. Empty.

His cold eyes peer into yours making you shrivel in on yourself, “I feel like you're lying to me” he airs.

You shake your head, “I’m not.” 

He slowly moves away from the counter to stand directly in front of you.

“Big step.”  he mocks slowly, “You know to me that sounds like an excuse, not a reason.”

“Rafe.”

“Are you unsure about a future with me or something? Is that it?”

Your mouth falls open, “No. No, not at all. I’m more than sure I want to be with you.” You reach for his hand, intertwining yours with his “I promise.” For a brief moment you notice how his eyes gleam at your assurance, like everything’s alright again.

The glimmer of hope makes you feel the need to continue on, thinking he’d understand. “Living together is something I want to do with you, just not necessarily now. It’s a lot. We’d have to figure out finances, do a lot of planning, you know?” 

The soft look in his blue orbs dies within seconds of you finishing the sentence. A sneer appears on his face as he lets go of your hand. His head shakes in disagreeance.

“I’d take care of all of that though, so I don't know why you're saying that like it's something to worry about.” 

It was like you were talking to a brick wall.

“Rafe, my love. It’s not entirely on you to do though, it's something we do together.” You breach his space and wrap your arms around his muscular torso. “I’m sorry, ok?”

It’s silent between you two for a moment. When he brings his arms around you, and rests his chin on your head, you let out a small breath of relief. 

“I have something for you. It was supposed to be a surprise for your birthday but I’d rather just tell you now.”

“Oh really?” you murmur into his chest, glad that the conversation is taking a turn from the direction it’d previously been in.

His fingers caress up your back as he speaks, “Uh huh. The company’s developing a house on the east side of figure 8. If construction stays on top of it, it should be done in a few weeks around your birthday.”

Unease brews in your gut, and you hope that he’s talking about using this house as a party venue, and not for what you’re so anxiously thinking.

“You see, my dad thinks it’d be a good place for us to… to start, and I agree with him.”

Within an instant you feel your heart drop. 

This was why he didn't like your answer, why he felt embarrassed, and why he was so adamant on wanting to know why you weren't ready. You pull away from him, mouth parted from shock. Your hands slide down your face. 

“A house… ?” You ask out of disbelief, “No Rafe. Our first place together isn’t going to be a house. It can't be.” The words come out in a way that makes you seem certain. On the outside it may appear as if you're handling the information well, but he doesn't know how your heart hammers in your chest and how badly your nerves are tingling throughout your limbs. “An apartment is reasonable, but a house? No.” 

“Look, I don't think you understand y/n” 

Trust you understand well and clear what’s going on and it makes your airways tight. You look up at the ceiling and take notice of how it’s slowly starting to spin. You look away and take a deep breath before directing your attention back towards your boyfriend. However you can't seem to focus on him.

Your growing need for oxygen moves you past him, and out of the kitchen. Your legs have a mind of their own as they guide you down the hall. The sight of the front door brings some relief to your lungs. In just a few more steps you’d be out there.

However, your track of mind changes when you're yanked at your forearm to a complete stop. 

You stand just outside of Ward's closed office doors and the older man's voice is much clearer now as continues to shout over the phone.

“Where the hell are you going?” Rafe grits out, wide eyed and brows furrowed.

“I need some air.” You confess. You attempt to tug your arm free but his grasp doesn't loosen, instead it does the opposite. You turn to him, “Let go. Seriously I need-”

“Stop trying to run away and fucking listen to me. He bought the place already. For you and me, It's ours.” His eyes flicker between yours anticipating a response. Your blood runs cold as you stare back at him. 

What the hell was this? This is crazy, no? Who just buys a house for someone without as much as even a discussion? It’s utterly blindsiding.

“Why?” is all you can muster up.

“I told you, he cares about you. He- he cares about us and wants us to have a good future together.” He explains, while tapping at his chest. 

Still holding you in place, he stalks closer. You feel his other hand graze up your neck, and rest at your jaw. His thumb gently brushes the area. “Say something.” 

You flicker up at him, struggling to maintain eye contact. “I don’t know what to say…” 

A muscle in his tight jaw twitches as he stares down at you, “I don’t know, how about thank you?”

Sadness clouds your features, “Rafe this is such a sweet gesture. I mean it, it’s the nicest I’ve ever gotten. But it’s too soon.” 

You guys had barely just celebrated your one year. Now what? You were supposed to up and move into a home together? That’s absurd to you. Especially because you associate a house with marriage and children, and you surely aren't ready for that either.

He tilts your head upward, forcing you to meet his intensely dark gaze. He trails your eyes as he speaks, ensuring that your attention is on him.

“This isn't the type of gift you refuse y/n. It would be stupid of you to do that… and you’re not gonna make me look bad because you’re a little scared.” 

His words cascade you with an overwhelming amount of emotions, and a frown appears on your face. 

“I need time to think.”

To your surprise, your cheeks are then squeezed together by his large hand and you whine out of discomfort.

“Y/n there’s no thinking about this'' His tongue quickly rolls over his lip, “it’s happening whether you like it or not.” He finishes with a snarl. 

Your eyes widen, out of pure shock, and your hand flies up to tug his away from your face. “The hell it is.” You scowl at him.

Within an instant your face is whipped to the side, and a stinging pain blossoms in your cheek. It’s as if time stopped. 

You draw in a deep breath, and take a moment to admit to yourself that your boyfriend just slapped you. In disbelief you turn your head slowly to look back at him. There’s this empty look in his eyes that elicits a prickle in your waterline. It’s weird because you don’t know what hurts more, the fact that he hit you or the fact that he appears to not care that he did it.

His touch feels like poison, when he pulls you closer to him. Your noses are practically touching, as he hovers over you.

“You should be grateful,” he spat lowly. 

Your eyes wander his face, and it’s the first time you register the feeling of fear towards Rafe.

The click sound of a lock and twist of a doorknob pulls you from your daze. You turn your attention towards where the noise came from, and Ward stands at his doorway in awe at the scene before him. 

Time feels slowed, which makes it easier for you to notice the little things. You watch as the older man looks down at where Rafe has a tight grip on you. The attention there makes you anxiously lick your lip, inadvertently forcing a metallic taste onto your tongue. Pain follows almost immediately at the discovery.

You could see the moment it all clicked for Ward. 

His eyebrows rose and he reeled back in disgust. Time went back to normal within an instant when he stepped in and detached Rafe from you. He shoved him up against the other door harshly. So hard that the wood rattled from the pressure.

The older man shouts at his son with vitriol laced in his voice. You don’t hear anything he’s saying, as you’re completely in your own head replaying what happened. The memory and the pain you're left with not only in your face, but in your heart, finally brings you to tears.

Wards familiar voice coos at you, “y/n honey….” His face is solemn, as he takes in your shakenness. 

He reaches out to you and you flinch uncontrollably. “Oh sweetheart” he frowns, as he pulls you into a consoling hug. You lean into him, and sob into his chest while he caresses the back of your head. When he pulls away your gaze wanders behind him to Rafe’s cold eyes.

“Hey, hey. Look at me, not him. I’m gonna handle this alright. You trust me, don’t you?” You slightly nod, then deeply sniffle. He rubs your shoulder, “Go sit in my office while I deal with him, ok?”

You move on autopilot, cradling your arms around yourself as you sit down on the couch. Ward had the doors closed, but you could hear everything. There’s a loud shove into the door that makes you twitch.

“What the hell have you done?! I want to hear it from your mouth!” There’s another shove, “Tell me exactly what you did! I want to hear you admit it!”

Your knee shakes and you can’t help but continue to listen.

Rafe’s voice is low but clear. 

“I hit her” there’s a pause, “But I don’t care that I did”

You feel your heart crack at that. How can he not care? 

There’s then a sound that can be clearly identified as a smack, which makes you wince. Another follows accompanied by rustling. 

“You are a damn fuck up Rafe! You know how lucky you are to have even found a girl like her! To have someone be that patient with you! To stick around you considering how screwed up you are! You disappointment me…” You hear panting, and wonder how aggressive Ward had been, almost worried about Rafe. “If you know what’s best for you, you’re going to fix this!”

The door rattles again. Then it opens with a click. Ward walks in first and Rafe follows behind at a distance. The blonde stops a few feet before you yet Ward continues in the direction of his desk, stopping at his mini fridge.

You glare up at Rafe, through blurry eyes and make out how his cheek burns bright red and how his jaw’s set tight.

“I’m sorry,” He murmurs, with not an ounce of remorse. 

Your anger bubbles up quickly and takes over, pushing you to get up and shove him in the chest. He hardly moves as you shove him again and again. The most you get out of him is a few quickenned blinks. 

Ward eventually steps between the two of you with one of his hands going to your shoulder to hold you back.

“Sweetheart I know, I know. He deserves it alright? You can have at him in just a second. First I need you to let me see how bad this lip is.” 

He brings a handkerchief to your lip and you wince when he goes over a painful spot.

“There we go, almost done.” He pulls away, balling the fabric in his hand. “Just a little wound, it’ll heal alright with some time.'' 

He looks at you with kind eyes, before handing you a cold pack. You bring it up to your cheek and thank him, all sniffly. He gives you a kiss on the forehead in response, “Course dear. How about we sit… yeah? We should talk about everything that just happened…” 

You nod and he gestures to one of the seats in front of his desk. You take it, and he does the same with the seat behind his desk and Rafe still stands over by the couch, brooding.

“Sit down Rafe” Ward commands, in a harsh voice. There was a large contrast in comparison to how his tone was so soft with you. 

Eventually, you hear Rafe slump into the chair beside yours but you refuse to look at him. Instead, you give your attention to Ward as he starts speaking.

“I think it’s fair to say everyone’s emotions are high right now. Some are more reasonable than others, yes?”  Ward slightly curves his lip up at you, then scowls in Rafe’s direction. 

“It’s truly unacceptable, what’s happened… I don't even know where he'd learn to do something like that.” He puffs.

It isn't hard for you to realize where he learned it from, the dots connected right in front of you. Literally. Still though it wasn't ok for him to do it to you. 

For some reason though you still feel empathy towards Rafe, likely because of how harsh his own father is being towards him.

You glance over at Rafe and take in how he’s looking down at his lap, tail completely tucked. Perhaps what he’d done was finally starting to set in.

“With that said…”, Ward continues “Our emotions can sometimes get the best of us, and sometimes they can push us to make rash impulsive decisions. You know?” The older man directs his gaze at you as he continues on. “I think it’s something important to consider. It’s just-” he sighs “I don't want anyone making any decision that they might regret over what’s transpired here today.” 

You hum, at that. Thinking over his words and trying to figure out what he’s getting on about.

“I want you to know y/n that I will be handling him, ok? He’ll never do anything like this again. For as long as you are together and as I’m alive. I promise you that.”

You blink at his assumption that you still want to be with his son. Your eyes stick to the ground and your voice comes out weak, “Sir. I don’t think I want-” you cut yourself off with a sigh. Your teary eyes look up at the graying man.“I don’t think I can be with him anymore.”

“I understand.” he swallows with a nod, “Look you know I want the best for you right? I would never force you to stay with him, that’s your decision. However, I want you to make sure you’re really thinking before you make that decision.”

“I- What’s there to think about?” you question. 

He hit you.

“There’s a lot to think about. I mean look at the relationship you two have created, how much you love each other, how much he loves you. Let me ask you this, has he ever hit you before this?” You shake your head no, 

“See. That’s something, and it shows how this was a one time mistake… that won’t happen again.”

You gnaw your lip, considering the older man’s words. 

“Listen hon, I’m not trying to sway your decision. I truly just love having you around. You may or may not know but I practically consider you as my daughter in law” he laughs softly “As for Rafe though, I can see how much he loves you.. I mean you make him a better person. I've never seen him happier than with you. I feel like you know better than anyone how he is and unfortunately how he can get sometimes. And that’s not an excuse. It’s my fault if anyone’s really, I knew that he wasn't well and I neglected it but I’m gonna get him the help he needs.”

You think over Ward’s words. It’s always been kind of apparent to you that Rafe’s needed some kind of help. You’ve been aware of the fact that he struggles with managing his emotions but you thought you were helping him get better at that. Today proved you wrong though.

Wards guidance does make you think though.

You and Rafe have been together a while and within the time he’d never done anything like this before. Also Ward was making a promise that he wouldn't let it happen again, and that he’d get his son help. With all of these solutions being proposed, you didn't want to just give up on Rafe. Because deep down you do love him and only want him to be the best version of himself.

“Well…” You murmur more so to yourself as you’re  still unsure.

“He’ll be better, I promise you that. Right Rafe?” 

You both look at the blonde and he slightly shuffles in his chair, and sniffles out a “Yeah”. 

“How’d this even happen?” Ward questions and you sniffle.

“Um- He told me about the house and I told him I wasn’t ready” 

He deflates in his chair, and shakes his head. “Oh my god… I think this is all a misunderstanding. Look… the house wasn't supposed to be something that made you feel pressured. It’ll always be there, for whenever you both are ready. I’m not gonna sell it” He chuckled, “It’s my gift to you”

Your heart swells at that assurance. “Are you sure?”

“Of course. Look at it this way, there are plenty of options for you guys with the place. When it’s ready I could  get it furnished and you both can come and go as you please. Or maybe you guys can even do a trial run for a month to see how you like it.” He leans back in his chair. “Again no pressure, I’m just throwing suggestions out there”

“That… that would be nice” You hum.

“Great” Ward smiles “Hey how about we go take a look at it now. We can do a walk through, see how it's coming along., and maybe we can even go to dinner after, I owe it to you guys. I did cut lunch short.” 

You look over at Rafe, to gauge your answer. His eyes are now brimmed with water. You reach out a hand to him. “Baby. I’m not mad at you ok?” you whisper as you intertwine your fingers with his. A tear streams down his cheek as he looks at you with soft familiar eyes. 

He squeezes your hand, with a nod. “I screwed up… I’m screwed up.”

“Babe, it’s ok. You’re gonna get help, which is good. I still love you, so much ok? Nothing’s changed alright? I promise. Let’s go see the house, yeah?” 

notes! i wanted to clarify that ward is absolutely motivated by selfish reasons and has impure intentions. he knows that reader trusts him and he uses that to his advantage to get her to stay with rafe. why does he do that? he knows that rafe isn’t necessarily as much of a problem if reader is around. he cares about protecting the family name and reputation more than her. alsooo the way that ward is treating reader (as in him being nice to her and not him) will deff harbor some resentment and jealousy in rafe! im sure nobody wanted this explanation but i wanted to give it lol.

anyways thanks for reading! thoughts and feedback are always welcome and highly appreciated ♡!! they encourage me to share more😽

[instantcoughy]

more 18+ LOGAN HOWLETT thoughts bc clearly im a big fat fucking liar

fem!reader, 583 words

Early morning sex is one of Logan’s favourites. There’s no rush, no haste – nothing. The rest of the world quiet, as if it's only the two of you up. 

He’d often be cuddling into you from behind, arm like a dead, sleeping weight around your middle. His hand in a protective hold under one of your tits, keeping you there with your back to his burly chest. It’s rather comfortable.

And as his eyes begin to open, adjusting to the dawn sky through the gap of the curtain, he notices something between his legs causing him anguish. Thick, naked cock rock hard against the cheek of your ass, the little sleeping, unknowing motions of you only furthering that agony.

He nuzzles his face into you from behind, chin hooking on the nape of your neck as he presses soft, light kisses into your cheek – trying to ease you awake. And when you inhale, the sound prolonged and sleepy, he only tempts you further: running the scruff of his beard over your bare shoulder, lips pressing faintly into the side of your throat.

“Got something I want you to take care of, sugar,” he whispers, voice low and gruff beside your ear. His hand on your tit beginning it’s gentle kneading, again, like he was trying to coax you. Pushing it even further by saying your name in that deep, manly way he often does.

You nestle your head back into him, humming in a way as if to show your intrigue. Your half-asleep self silently asking him to elaborate. And when he takes the hint, his grasp around your breast loosens, instead moving down to your stomach – large fingers brushing over your warm, bare skin. 

The trail continues, his touch moving down to between your thighs, the thickness of his wrist acting like a wedge betwixt your legs. His middle finger instinctively extends downwards, the tip of it running between the lips of your pussy, the action like a gentle, momentary warm up.

And so, he leaves that spot just below your clit, reaching his hand behind you —to the front of him— and to his cock. Fingers wrapping around his base, fist faintly pumping over his dick as if to ready himself – simultaneously guiding his head towards you from behind.

He teases you briefly with the tip as he lines up, swirling and circling himself around your entrance before sinking into you. The remnants of last night’s dirty affairs acting like a natural lubricant.

He stills, using his cock like a plug as if to allow you a moment to adjust – accommodate him once again. But it was like muscle memory, the walls of your pussy stretching and wrapping around him, drawing more of him in. 

“Fuck,” he groans, the sound cutting his curse short. He wraps his arm back around your middle, hand finding itself tucked under your tit –like his prior sleeping position– using your body for stability as he begins to slowly rock into you. 

Your eyes close as you melt into him, posture softening against his chest, grip loosening around his thick wrist. He inadvertently mirrors you, the tenseness in his shoulders dissipating as he rests his head back on the pillow – relaxing into you the way you do him. 

Like it all required no effort. The unrushed, irregular wind of his hips into you from behind letting you both feel just enough, each of you still far too sleepy for it to be anything more than this.

I rewatched DOFP for him last night. massive mistake. cried myself to sleep

[instantcoughy]

Me, when I notice Joel didn't bring any silverware upstairs.

#amazing #somebodypleasesavemygirl

𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 — 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫

gif by: @richardgrimes

pairing: perv!stepdad!joel x fem!reader

summary: when you do the unthinkable, joel takes it upon himself to let out all of his anger and frustration onto you. the punishments that follow are ones that officially tear you apart and turn you into an unrecognizable girl.

warnings: MINORS DNI. DUB-CON. BIG AGE GAP [18/52], joel is VERY VERY VERY mean in this chapter, face slapping, hair pulling, hella manipulation, finger sucking, spanking as punishment [with his hand and belt], TW: isolation as punishment, TW: emotional abuse, joel spits on your face, oral [m receiving], TW: forced asphyxiation, joel has a very big dick ok, masochism, sadism, dacryphilia, kinda angsty ??

wc: 7.3k

notes: i felt kinda blah about this series cause i feel like i'm not making joel mean enough compared to how some writers write dark!joel (´•︵•`) so i got really sad and put all my emotions into this chapter as a coping mechanism and made joel REALLY fucking mean and just... a horrible and nasty man. trauma ?? i think so. ENJOY. ( ˶ˆᗜˆ˵ )

edit: i posted this later than expected UGH. expect two updates in one day.

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By the time you awoke, the space beside you in bed was vacant. You have no recollection of drifting off in Joel's embrace. As you rise, the fluffy blanket cascades down, gathering around your hips. Joel must have draped it over you once you had succumbed to sleep. The absence of his clothes on the floor and the chill of his side of the bed leave you questioning whether he stayed the night at all, stirring a sense of unease within you. He had done something new, something that made you feel good, and he wasn't here when you woke up. Why? Why wasn't he here? Why do you feel so cold all of a sudden? Was this something normal that men do? Embarrassed by the series of events from last night, you pull on your discarded panties and shorts.

The sunrise had not yet begun. Looking out the window, the sky displayed an almost purplish tint with the sun barely cresting the horizon. It was a cloudless sky, yet the faint chirping of morning birds could be heard from their respective trees. Unsure of the time, as Joel had confiscated your phone and you lacked an alarm clock, the day's start remained ambiguous.

As you tiptoe out of your room, you notice the house is completely quiet. Joel usually wakes up before dawn, but today, a faint snore drifts from his and your mom's bedroom. Moving down the hall, you gently push the slightly open door further. In the dim blue light filtering in from outside, you can just make out Joel's form. He's sprawled on his stomach in the center of the bed, clutching his pillow while your mom's lies abandoned on the floor. Shirtless, the sheets are drawn just below the dimples of his back. The bedside clock shows 5:22 AM.

"Daddy?" you whisper faintly into the darkness, pausing for an answer. Only his soft snores, muffled by the pillow, meet your ears. Drawing nearer, you notice Joel is lying on his good ear, the other affected by partial hearing loss. The urge to rouse him is strong, yet you hesitate, knowing these moments of peaceful rest are few for him.

The rumbling of your stomach makes you whimper. Joel usually prepares meals for you when asked. Your mother, however, rarely agrees, often reminding you that you're old enough to cook for yourself. But Joel always protests, saying, "I don't want your pretty little hands to get all cut up and burned." Perhaps he wouldn't mind if you made breakfast just this once. It would be a sweet gesture to surprise him with breakfast in bed. You wonder if your mom ever did something like that for him.

"I'm going to make breakfast for us, okay, Daddy?" you whisper, a bit louder this time, your hand hovering just above his broad back. You can feel the warmth radiating onto your palm. When he doesn't respond, only emitting another snore, you quietly tiptoe out of the room and gently close the door, cringing when it makes a loud noise at the last moment.

Descending the stairs, a sense of unease weighs heavily in your stomach. Alone, with dark blue hues filling patches of the vacant house and shadows stretching across the walls, you almost feel an invisible presence. You find yourself wishing Joel were awake to fend off the lurking shadows. Rushing to the kitchen, you flip on the light, blinking against the sudden brightness until your eyes adjust.

Opening the fridge revealed a lackluster array of dinner leftovers, several half-empty condiment bottles, an empty milk carton, and a bag of grapes beginning to rot. It was disappointing to find nothing inspiring to cook with. A glance at the stovetop clock showed it was 5:30. The local market would open at 6, and it was only a half-hour walk away. However, the prospect of walking that distance didn't appeal to you, dramatic as it might seem. Your eyes then fell upon Joel's truck keys and wallet in the bowl on the kitchen countertop. Surely, he wouldn't mind if you borrowed them for a quick shopping trip.

Right?

By the time you returned home, it was nearly 8 o'clock. The neighborhood had fully come to life. The groceries in the truck's backseat jostled with every gentle turn. A sinking feeling emerged at the thought of Joel's anger over you borrowing his truck without asking and taking some of his twenty-dollar bills. Yet, it stemmed from a desire to do something kind for him in gratitude for his good care during your mother's absence. An excitement bubbled within you, eager to burst.

You hadn't planned to be out this long, but losing track of time and procrastinating on your tasks is a frequent issue. Joel often chides you for this, playfully urging you to get your head out of the clouds and to come back down to earth. Your only hope is that Joel remains asleep, unaware of your absence. However, the missing money from his wallet, the extra miles on his truck, and the depleted gas are sure to give you away.

As you park the truck in the driveway, you notice the porch screen is wide open, though you remember closing it before sneaking out. Your heart sinks at the sight of Joel's daunting figure in the doorway, his gaze piercing through the windshield. It's a wonder the glass doesn't crack under the weight of his stare. Your pulse quickens, a flurry of nervous butterflies takes flight in your stomach, and your palms dampen with sweat as you clutch the steering wheel tightly.

Joel points at you and then to the ground at his feet, silently mouthing, "Now." He then vanishes back into the house, clearly pissed off. Fear grips you, making it daunting to leave the truck's safety. After six agonizing minutes, you gather enough bravery to step out, your breath hitching in your throat and almost making it difficult to breathe.

After hoisting the grocery bags into your arms and nudging the back passenger door closed with your foot, likely leaving a mark on the polished metal, you make your way to the porch with unsteady steps. The door stands slightly open, and you gently push it wider. As you spin around to close it, a hand reaches over your shoulder and slams it with such force that the house seems to shake. Startled, you yelp loudly as Joel grabs your arm firmly and pulls you into the kitchen, his long strides causing you to stumble over your feet.

"Sit your fuckin' ass down," he practically barks, pulling out a kitchen chair and slams it down. He pushes you toward the chair so forcefully that the grocery bags tumble down around you. As you land on the wooden chair, the impact from Joel's shove nearly expels all the air from your lungs.

He stands over you from your seated position, towering and nearly trembling with fury. Joel's hands are clenched into tight fists, his knuckles whitening under the strain. He scratches his jaw and paces, a low growl emanating from deep within his chest as the intensity in his eyes burns fiercer. You close your eyes, sitting motionless, bracing yourself.

"Are you out of your GODDAMN MIND?!" He bends down to scream in your face, his face contorted in a way that makes him look scary and so different from the usual angry Joel you normally see. This Joel was drowning in rage. His eyes were nearly black and the lines on his face deepened as he snarled in your face. "You fucking ANSWER ME!" One hand grabs the back of your hair and yanks your head back so fast that your nerve spasms, a shrieking cry escaping your lips. His other hand grabs your face and squeezes your jaw so tightly that pain blossoms throughout your gums.

"Stop, stop, stop, please, stop!" You're babbling in his face, thick tears sliding down your cheeks from the intense pain in your scalp, neck, and jaw. You could barely catch a breath from how hard you're crying. "Da-Daddy, p-please!" You're grabbing on both of his forearms, nails digging deep through his long shirt, no doubt leaving indentations.

Joel only grunts lowly, his breath heavy and fast. His hands squeeze tighter, and he roughly shakes your head, loving the way your face scrunches up at the pain he's causing. Then, he forcibly pushes your head away, releasing his hands from your knotted hair and your already bruising jaw. Tears streaming down your face, you draw your knees up to your chest for comfort and hesitantly reach for the back of your head, while your other hand softly caresses your jaw. Your eyes are wide, reflecting a state of shock and fear. Joel's gaze is fixed on you, his frown growing more pronounced as you quiver uncontrollably.

He pulls his wallet from his back pocket and flings it towards you. It strikes your knees and tumbles to the floor, unfolding just enough to reveal its barren interior.

"You take my fuckin' truck," Joel says in a low voice, trembling with anger. He steps back, his boots thudding on the floorboards. "You take my fuckin' money." At this point, you're nearly hyperventilating, silently cursing yourself for such a foolish act and expecting him to accept it. He goes on, his tone grave, "And you sneak out without telling me, huh? What, you want more freedom than what I'm giving you here?"

The anger that Joel feels is indescribable. It's coursing through his veins like heroin, poisoning his blood and gradually taking over his body. He doesn't know what to do, or even think. All that he can do is react. How stupid of you to think this was okay. How mind-numbingly idiotic it was of him to expect you to follow his rules and obey him like a good girl. As he looks down at you like smeared shit at the bottom of his shoe, there seems to be only one option left.

Before you can react, Joel has seized your arm and pulled you up from the chair, nearly dislocating your shoulder. His footsteps are long, resounding, and forceful. Tears continue to flow as he hauls you up the stairs. You stumble on each step, crying and sobbing, while you try to keep pace with him. Your knees are banging against every edge as Joel practically drags you up the steps.

"Da-Dad-dy!" Choking on your tears, you can barely see anything. Your vision is blurry, and your hearing is muffled. Every nerve in your body is on fire. "Pl-Please, Jo-el!"

"Get up, girl! C'mon. Get your fuckin' ass up!" He grunts through labored breaths, jaw clenching tightly as he drags your body by the arm up the last step. "I've had 'nough of you."

Suddenly, he kicks your bedroom door open, your heartbreaking cries falling on deaf ears. Your body is shoved into your room with enough force to make you collapse onto the ground. You're gasping for air, your fingers slick with sweat as they frantically claw at the rug, desperate to find something to hold onto.

Joel stands motionless in the doorway, his gaze fixed on you without a trace of emotion. Thoughts flood his mind, overwhelming him like a tsunami. Make her hurt. Make her cry. Make her beg for mercy. He retrieves a key from his front pocket and observes as you pathetically curl into a ball on the floor, your shoulders shaking violently while you cry into the carpet. His hand rests on the doorknob. Before leaving, he speaks in an unexpectedly gentle tone, "Until I believe you've learned your lesson, you're going to stay here, and you're going to think about what you did."

Then, he departs and forcefully closes your door. Amidst your heavy sobs, the sound of the bedroom door lock engaging is audible. Glancing over your shoulder weakly, you notice the doorknob has been altered from before. Gone is the twist lock, replaced now by a keyed lock mechanism.

The epiphany strikes with overwhelming force. Enclosed by a door that's locked and windows sealed shut, you find yourself imprisoned with no means of escape.

Unaware of how much time has passed, you stay on the ground, curled up, emotionless. The tears have stopped, leaving behind an empty stare. The night has already set in, shrouding your room in darkness from top to bottom. Joel's footsteps are audible everywhere, hardly silent. Whenever he approaches your door, there's a halt, a moment of stillness, and then the sound of his steps resumes. Undoubtedly, he was listening with his ear against the door. Each approach brought a heaviness to your heart and a sinking sensation in your stomach.

The aroma of garlic sizzling in oil drifted from the kitchen, prompting your mouth to water and your stomach to knot with hunger. You hadn't eaten since the night before. The clatter of pots and pans, either being used or stored away, brought tears to your eyes. "Stupid, stupid girl," you chide yourself. It was foolish to attempt a kind gesture for Joel, only to have it go horribly wrong. It was a rash and impetuous move. Now, he'll never forgive you for this. This realization has you weeping once more into the spit-soaked, tear-stained rug.

Engrossed in your thoughts, you fail to notice the door has come unlocked and now stands ajar, the hallway light spilling in and illuminating your huddled form. Joel pauses in the doorway, a plate of food in hand, and tuts softly at the pathetic sight before him.

"Sit up," he commands, making his way deeper into the dimly lit room. The sound of his rough voice had your entire body tensing and your quiet cries immediately halting. When you remain still, Joel becomes irritated and prods your hip forward with his muddy boot, leaving a mark on the pristine white dress you wore especially to surprise him. "I said, get your fuckin' ass up, little girl. Don't make me tell you again."

With trembling limbs, you gradually unfold yourself, grimacing as your muscles burn. Your scalp, jaw, neck, knees, and arms feel as though they are on fire. After hours of immobility and neglecting your aching body, the pain strikes you with overwhelming force.

Joel squats before you, emitting a soft grunt as his knees pop and his lower back tightens. In silence, he extends the plate of food between you both: parmesan garlic chicken, green beans, and red roasted baby potatoes. The aroma and appearance make your eyes widen, your mouth water, and your stomach rumble.

The moment your fingertips graze the plate's underside, Joel pulls it away and sets it on the ground. Your faint smile vanishes, replaced by a frown as you meet his stern gaze. He remains silent, his stare unwavering. Looking down at the plate, it dawns on you that there's not a fork, knife, or even a spoon in sight.

"Eat," he commands, his voice a quiet murmur. Joel's gaze is fixed on you, his eyes unblinking, his facial expression shifting subtly. The softness and tenderness that were once reserved for you have vanished. He never used to look at your mom the way he looked at you. But now, his gaze is identical. It leaves you feeling sorrowful and heartbroken.

Confused and very much embarrassed at not knowing what to do, you hesitantly reach out to grab the chicken with your bare hand. Joel's hand roughly clamping around your wrist and shoving it away prevents you from doing so. There was a surge of panic that shot through you like a shotgun blast.

"No," he snaps, his eyes narrowing and his scowl deepening. It's clear he's losing patience. Joel has no time for games. "Bend down… and eat," he commands.

There's a tense, heavy moment of silence as you thoroughly think about what he's telling you to do. Warmth spreads throughout your neck and rises to your cheeks before settling on the tips of your ears. Your heart plummets to your stomach. So, like an obedient little dog, you lower your head down to the plate on the ground and begin eating.

Joel smiles at your obedience, one hand gently petting your head and tenderly massaging the tendrils of hair connected to your scalp that he viscously yanked. He softly quiets you when you flinch and unintentionally whimper. He maintains the gentle, affectionate strokes of his hand through your hair, even gathering it into a ponytail to help you eat more comfortably.

"That's a good girl," he softly praises, settling onto his knees in front of you and using his other hand to gently stroke your jaw. "See how easy it is to obey Daddy? You just needed some of Daddy's tough lovin', huh?"

Is this what it was? Some tough love? You've never encountered that before, much less experienced it. Since you were never a problem child, discipline was seldom necessary. Maybe this is exactly what you needed to be a good girl for Joel. Maybe this tough love is what will help you do better and learn from your stupid mistakes.

As you continue eating, Joel finds himself slowly loving the sight of you eating like a fucking mutt in front of him. Knowing that he can push you so far as to do something like this excites him. His hand tightens in the makeshift ponytail he has your hair in, and his eyes darken. Letting out a whimper that was muffled from your food, you make sure to not complain about it to Joel. He was already upset with you from earlier and you really don't want to push it further.

"That's enough," he declares, his hand in your hair stopping your movements while his other hand takes your plate away, leaving half of the food untouched and uneaten. His hand pops you on the cheek when he hears you protesting, a pained yelp escaping your slobbered lips. He forces your head up to be eye level with his. "Listen to me, little girl. From this moment forward, Daddy will decide what you eat, when you eat it, and how much you can eat. Have I made myself clear?" His voice's tone is so authoritative that it holds no room for argument, not that you could muster one even if you wished to.

Nevertheless, you find yourself nodding within his grasp. Choosing not to protest was wise. Should this behavior be part of your punishment or his version of tough love, you certainly wouldn't want to witness him at full strength. Merely the thought was enough to make you shudder with fear once more. Joel was an incredibly strong man, often unaware of his own strength. He could break your jaw with one squeeze--he almost fucking did it this morning.

Joel mocks your nod. "Good," he hums, offering you a pleased smile as he lovingly strokes the apple of your cheeks. "Now, come to the bathroom so Daddy can brush your teeth."

Leaving your half-finished plate behind, you follow Joel into the hallway. You trail behind him aimlessly, your steps shaky and limping. He notices but chooses not to comment. It's for the best, a silent reminder that such consequences will recur if you act carelessly again.

Joel opens the door to the main bathroom and guides you inside with care. He lifts you with ease under your arms and sets you down on the countertop. A small squeak escapes from your chest, a sound that Joel finds adorable. He flashes a subtle grin and begins to wet your toothbrush, dabbing on the toothpaste. He shuffles between your thighs and thumbs your mouth open to start brushing your teeth. His actions brought you comfort, making you feel cherished and cared for. Even though you could have done it yourself, witnessing Joel display his nurturing side was touching. You longed to see more of this aspect of him, silently promising to be well-behaved with every passing minute.

"Alright, babydoll," he says as pats your thighs lovingly and rinses off your toothbrush after instructing you to lean over the sink and spit out the minty froth. "Now, get your butt back to your room and lean over the bed, panties off."

Joel notices the confusion spark in your eyes before it manifests in the furrowing of your brows. Your lips part to question him, but the words become stuck in your throat as his eyes darken and he gives a subtle shake of his head, tutting softly to himself.

"And here I thought you were goin' to start listening to me," he lets out a dark chuckle before invading your space with his strong chest pressing against yours. The force of the action causes your back to crash against the mirror, your head striking the glass while the sink spout presses into your lower back, causing discomfort and pain.

He bares his teeth just barely as he gets in your face, nostrils flaring and eyebrows furrowing, the storm brewing wildly in his eyes. Joel laughs gruffly as your eyes widen and you put your hands up in front of your body against his chest to protect yourself from his unpredictability. Oh, how cute. You were shaking under his hold like a frightened little bunny. Joel presses you harder against the mirror, no doubt forcing the sink spout deeper into your back. He grumbles pleasantly under his breath. He was causing this terrible fear clear as day on your face. The blooming bruises on your body are caused by his hands. The finger shaped bruises looked like a work of art on your delicate skin.

"Oh, babydoll," his breath fans across your face. He gives you a mocking pout, hushing you softly when the tears spill. "You're makin' it real hard not to paint that ass black and blue, you know that?"

Your bottom lip trembles and your body quivers, eyes shutting tightly as you mentally prepare yourself for Joel's next action. Tears spill and disappear underneath your aching jaw. He wipes them away at first, but when they keep sliding down, he wipes a tear-stained thumb across your lips before pushing the appendage deeper into your mouth and pressing down on your tongue.

"D'you taste that?" He asks you so quietly that you almost missed it. He's looking at his thumb between your lips and bites down on his own. Joel gazes into your wide eyes, which stare back at him as if he were the boogeyman. In a way, he is. "That's the taste of fear, sweetheart. Don't it taste fuckin' delicious?" The laugh he lets out is depraved, deranged, and delirious. With his thumb still in your mouth, he uses the other fingers to wrap under your chin before using that grip to force your head to move up and down roughly. "That's what I thought. Now, I ain't going to ask you again, babydoll. Take your ass back to your room and take off your fuckin' panties. When I get back, you better be leaning over the edge or so fuckin' help me God."

The mere threat was sufficient to send you scuttling down the hallway, pushing past Joel in a rush to get to your room. He watches you do so with a sadistic smile on his face. To see you react in such a way has him so fucking hard in his jeans. He cups a hand over the thickness and squeezes. There was a brief warmth pooling in his groin, and he let out a husky moan before his hand falls away. In due time, he silently tells himself.

Shaking, stuttering breaths were muffled in the bedding. You did exactly as you were told. The tips of your toes just barely skimming the rug, you were leant over the edge of the bed with your panties pooled at your ankles. One of your hands had blindly reached across the bed to grab onto your stuffed animal to curl an arm around it and press it against your side. The only comforting thing you can have at this moment that can hopefully ease the unsettling anxiety that won't go away.

Uncertain of how much time has passed, it might have been five minutes, ten, or perhaps even an hour. You caught a fleeting sound of Joel entering the room to retrieve your plate, then he left, securing the door with a lock behind him.

Long stretches of silence enveloped you, allowing the sound of your own heartbeat to echo mercilessly in your ears. It was a fleeting moment of tranquility before Joel determined his next move. In this stillness, sleep nearly overtook you, the exhaustion from hours of weeping creeping up silently. Then, the door unlocks, knob slowly turning. The ominous creaking of your door opening has you tensing as you hold your breath.

The steady stomp of Joel's footsteps enters your room before the door is shut behind him. The sight of you in a position that he demanded from you was driving him fucking wild. Panties at your ankles and your cute ass on display, the hem of your dress stopping just at the middle of your cheeks. He can see your pussy nearly calling out for him to play with her. But he can't, not at this moment. He needs you to understand that your actions, done behind his back, were unacceptable. They were reckless and dangerous—just the thought of it is enough to make Joel feel like punching a wall over and over.

"Now, what am I goin' to do with you, babydoll?" The question is rhetorical. He knows what he's going to do to you, but you don't. Leaving you in the dark of where his mind runs wild, keeping you pure from his deranged, perverted thoughts was for your own good. He intends to maintain a safe distance to prevent any critical harm, beyond what has already been inflicted.

The sound of Joel's voice has your hips shifting, your pussy lips just barely parted to give him a show of your exposed clit poking out from the hood that protects the exposed nerve. As he gets closer, he can see your stuffed animal in a headlock under your arm. How cute and pathetic.

"I gotta say, honey," he starts talking, his voice humorless and no longer holding that warm tone he previously had when he walked in. "It was adorable you thought I was done with you tonight. I mean, you really thought Daddy locking you up here was all that he was goin' to do?"

Unsure if the question was rhetorical or not, you still answered in a breathy voice, "Y-Yes, Daddy."

A smile makes its way onto Joel's face. "Yes, Daddy," he mocks your high pitched, breathy voice. The act of him doing so caused an embarrassed flush to warm your cheeks and ears. To be mocked made you feel so small. But that's what you are to Joel; this tiny, little thing that is so easy to crush in his big hand.

His groin rests against your ass cheeks, both of his hands lifting your dress higher until it pools around your upper back, further exposing your naked body to his eager eyes. The rough denim of his jeans and the cold metal of his zipper pressing into your backside made you hiss under your breath. Joel's hands hold onto your hips, forcing your body further onto the bed until your toes are no longer skimming above the rug, your feet now only dangling a few inches up.

"That's more like it," he grunts quietly, biting down on the plump flesh of his body limp when he sees goosebumps erupt on your soft skin. So, so fucking soft and untainted. As one hand pins you down at your lower back, his other hand gently rubs across your left ass cheek. Barely glancing at you to make sure you're prepared for what's to come, Joel mutters, "Brace yourself, sweetheart."

Then, he thwacks his palm across your skin. The force and strength of the smack made you cry out in surprise and pain. He smacks your other cheek with the same force. He does it again and again, back and forth, back and forth. Your legs kick behind you as fiery warmth blossoms along your backside. Your arm squeezes tighter around your stuffed bunny as you blindly reach a hand behind you to cover your bottom. Joel was quick to grab your wrist to pin it at your lower back.

He doesn't fucking stop spanking you. Not even when his own handprint is starting to show on your skin. He grunts with every thwack of his hand across your sensitive flesh. The cries that are forced out of you were music to his ears. Your backside feels like it's on fire underneath his wide palm; he doesn't know when to stop or ease up. The frustration and irritation from earlier were slowly making their way into Joel's mind.

"Bad." Smack. "Bad." Smack. "Fuckin'." Smack. "Girl."

Joel grunts like an animal as the smacks happen in quick succession. You're wailing into the covers, feet kicking weakly as you try so desperately to wiggle away from him. He won't stop. The pain is indescribable. It burns so badly, throbbing non-stop and feeling like a million needles are being stabbed into your skin. Your throat hurts from your pain-filled wails that are muffled into your bedding.

He's panting heavily and sweating. Wiping a forearm across his forehead, Joel removes his hands from your body, tilting one hand to the side to observe your marked ass. His handprints are on your skin, clear as day. He can feel the blazing heat radiating from your backside. But again, he's not done with you yet. And he tells you just that.

"Quit your fuckin' whinin'," he orders, both hands lowering to his thick leather belt to undo it from the hoops of his jeans. "We're not done until I say we're done." He folds the leather and snaps it together, the resounding sound causing you to cry harder in the sheets.

You learned your lesson. You know that you've been a bad girl. You know this. But the words fail to emerge, your voice and mouth unable to coordinate effectively enough to communicate with Joel. A tumult of emotions rages through your violently trembling body: fear, confusion, intense pain, and fatigue.

Folded, thick leather smacking against tender, angry skin is what forces a scream to erupt from your throat. With your bunny discarded, both hands desperately grab at your bedsheets to pull you away from Joel and his offending belt. You can faintly hear him sucking his teeth before one of his hands roughly yanks you back down by the back collar of your dress.

"Cry as much as you want to, babydoll!" he shouts through your pained wails. Then, the belt strikes across your ass repeatedly. Joel was barely giving you time to breathe through your tears and dribbling snot and drool that slides down your chin. "Kick all you want! Daddy ain't stopping!"

He lowers the position of the belt so that he can strike the back of your thighs as well. You're sure that after tonight, you won't be able to sit or speak for a very long time, for your vocal cords are nearly shattered from how hard and loud you were screaming, and Joel's hands and belt are bruising your backside. You're wishing that this torture will end. You're wishing that Joel will stop and hold you while you cry in his arms like a blubbering baby. Stop. Stop. Stop.

"Stop!" You screamed and screamed, both hands desperately reaching back to cover your backside. Everything burns. Everything feels like it's on fire. The pain only intensified when Joel tossed his belt aside and resorted to the palm of his hand again. "Please, please, stop, p-please!" Your speech now slurred and unrecognizable from thick tears, your hands claw at Joel's wrist, his hand wrapped around both of your own wrists to pin at your lower back again.

Only then does Joel snap out of it.

He's breathing so heavy that an innocent bystander would think that he was having a panic attack. Joel looks down at his creation and finally pulls his hand off of your wrists. Your arms go limp at your sides; you don't even bother trying to cover yourself. He looks at your backside, his thumb gently wiping away some blood that dotted around broken skin that was caused by his belt. He hums thoughtfully, bringing his thumb to his lips and licking your blood from the tip. In a day or two, your ass was going to be badly bruised and marked, all thanks to him.

"Such a sweet girl," he whispers, leaning down to press his nose behind your ear and inhaling deeply. Your body violently shakes underneath his chest. His groin is crushed against your horribly bruised ass, the pressure of it making you cry weakly, all the energy suddenly drained from you once he stopped abusing your ass.

Glancing down at his hard cock, now thick and pressing uncomfortably into his thigh, Joel decided now would be a good time for you to make him feel good. Though he knows you're not up for it, he doesn't fucking care. A darkness lurks within his mind, akin to an alter ego that commandeers his body, a monster in its purest form. This other facet of him is sadistic, vicious, and relentless. With you, it's so easy to fall into this second body. It's addicting. He can't stop, even if he knows this is wrong.

With a hoarse grunt, Joel grabs the back of your arms and yanks you off the bed to drop you down onto your knees. With a hand under your chin to keep your face pointed up to him, his other hand unbuttons his jeans and pulls them down, along with his underwear. He pushes both offending fabrics mid-thigh, sighing with satiated relief when his cock slaps up, nearly poking you in the eye.

You could hardly pay attention. Your eyes were unfocused and hazy, swollen lips parted to inhale and exhale shakily. You were so deep in another world that Joel had to roughly shake your head to bring you back down the earth. Unsure of why you feel so dizzy, you tried focusing on the pain in your backside that was still throbbing relentlessly, the burning fire now sizzling into a numb sensation.

"Tongue out," Joel demands roughly as he holds your hair into a makeshift ponytail with one hand as the other holds the base of his cock to tap his leaking tip against your lips.

Hearing his order, you look up at him with tear-filled eyes and do as you're told. You don't even know what exactly you're doing, but all you can hear in your mind is be a good girl and listen to him. Your eyes almost cross as you get a better look of his cock, and they widen comically. God, Joel was really long and thick. You wondered if all men were this size. It was intimidating to look at. You don't know if even less than half could fit in your mouth, let alone inside of you. Joel observes the revelation in your eyes and drops his left into a wink.

"Careful with your teeth, baby," his voice was gruff and strained, his mushroomed tip throbbing against your lips as his heavy balls tighten from the warmth pooling intensely in his groin. "Yeah, just like that."

His praise was something that you desperately needed tonight. Forgetting about the unrelenting abuse you endured on your backside, you can make it up to him by showing you that yes, you really are a good girl, and you will listen to him and do what you're told.

When you take too long to give Joel what he wants, he decides to take charge in one way that he knows how. Both hands grab either side of your head, forcing it to stay still as he shoves half of his cock into your mouth. Your eyes widened and you sputtered sloppily around his dick, your hands frantically fisting his jeans at his thighs. He grunts and groans, sweat pooling behind his neck and sliding down the line of his back.

"Goddamn," he hissed under his breath, moving his hips forward and back to start fucking your mouth with a brutal pace that has his balls slapping against your wet chin. "Born natural, ain't ya?"

Coughing and choking around his cock, you gagged and dry heaved as his thickness fills your mouth repeatedly. Spit dribbles down your chin and slides down your chest as you bite back the bile pooling in the back of your throat. Joel's breathing stutters for a split second at the sight below him. Your lips were obscenely stretched around his girth, eyes wide and glassy with thick tears just waiting to spill over. The sloppy, wet noises coming from your mouth nearly made him bust right in your mouth.

"Let me try somethin'," Joel mumbles to himself before roughly grabbing the back of your head and forcing your head all the way down until your nose and lips were crushed against his dark public hair. The contractions of your throat squeezing around his cock has him moaning gruffly at the ceiling, his head thrown back, Adam's apple bobbing in time with each moan that comes out.

Taking advantage of Joel's lax state, your nails dig into the thick meat of his thighs to push yourself off of him. His cock slips from your lips, strings of spit connecting from the enlarged tip to your puffy lips. You're coughing and dry heaving, your throat burning terribly. Joel looks down and grins wolfishly.

His hand languidly strokes his soaking cock. The sight of you struggling from his size was an image he wanted to engrave in his mind so he can watch it over and over again. He liked seeing you struggle. Hell, he fucking craves to see it again. Without giving you any time to prepare, he grabs the back of your head to force you down onto his cock once more.

The sopping wet choking sounds that are emitting from your throat are driving him insane. He wonders what would happen if he just...

Both hands roughly grab your head to yank you down until his cock goes down your throat again. This time, he keeps you there for a few, long, grueling seconds. You're sputtering wildly, eyes wide with terror as tears spill over your waterline. Your fists are weakly punching at his thighs, and you try to pull your head back, but Joel only crushes your head harder into his pelvis until your nose is pressed so deep into his pubic hair.

Joel grunts like a wild beast. "Just like that. Fuckin' choke on it." He sees your lashes flutter weakly, your eyes half-lidded and rolling into the back of your head. The lack of oxygen to your brain has your heart slowing dramatically. This is your death. Yeah, this is definitely how you're going to die: choking on Joel Miller's dick, also your mom's husband.

Suddenly, your head is pulled off and you're gasping for air like it's the last thing on earth. Your head is spinning and you're doubling over until your forehead is almost touching Joel's boots. Your throat burns and you can barely feel your tongue. This wasn't supposed to be happening. This is all your fault. You deserve this punishment. Bad girl. Bad, bad, bad girl. Slowly rocking yourself back and forth, you sniffle softly and take a weak glance up at him. A shadow almost casts over your face from where you kneeled, his long cock perfectly aligned below the ceiling light.

Joel bends down to lift you higher on your knees. His big hands gently hold your cheeks, and your eyes shut as this is the first tender touch you've felt in hours. You savor this moment, sniffling again and licking your bottom lip. Joel smiles sweetly, lowering his head to kiss your forehead, nose, and then your lips. A sweet little whimper reverberates against his lips. When he pulls away, he quietly instructs you to open your eyes, babydoll.

When you do, you're met with sweet, nice, tender Joel again. Have you really made it to the end of your punishment? Are you his good girl again? Is this really it? The moment doesn't last long. The smile on Joel's face vanishes gradually slowly. There's a sick feeling that returns back inside your stomach. This is going to be never-ending. This is your well-deserved punishment. Pain, pain, pain.

When Joel purses his lips, you flinch when a wad of spit lands on across the bridge of your nose and slides down your cheeks prettily. Your eyes open and your mouth drops. This was the most demeaning thing for him to do. Spitting on your face is a clear indication that you're nothing more than a personal toy for Joel to use. This whole entire night was of him showing you what you mean to him. The thought added a crack to your heart. All you ever wanted was to be good.

Joel's fingers filthily rub his spit all over your face, a crude smile on his face as he does so. His middle and index fingers are shoved into your mouth, the pads of his fingertips covered in his slick and are now laying against your wiggly tongue. "There we go," he breathes out, gently prodding his fingers further down your throat until they brush against your uvula, causing you to gag and sputter.

You barely have enough time to react before he's yanking his fingers from your mouth and landing a smack to your cheek. It almost sends you flying to the side if it weren't for his hand holding onto the other side of your face. Joel hushes you quietly when your eyes shut tightly, fire spreading across your face.

"This is for your own good, babydoll," he whispers against your forehead, pulling away to pop your cheek again, and then landing another smack to your other cheek. He shushes your pained cries again, giving you a messy, tongue-filled kiss. You can't stop crying against his mouth, snot, spit, and tears all over your face. The anguish won't diminish. It gets stronger and stronger the more Joel breaks you apart little by little.

His hands curl into your hair, tightening into fists and yanking your head back a few inches from his face. His eyes darken as he sees the fear in your beautifully broken eyes. He spits on your face once more, trailing his eyes over the artistic splatter across your nose and cheeks. His cock, still rock hard and soaking wet, hangs out of his jeans.

Joel is a patient man. In due time, you and he will finally become one. Whether you liked it or not, you were his--his to use, his to play with, his to destroy. You don't have a voice anymore. Joel Miller broke you apart with his bare hands and left you scrabbling to pick up the pieces.

taglist:

@yesjazzywazzylove-blog @heyhihello-4771 @blueberrypancakesworld @codenamekitten @natalieispunk @koshkaj-blog @giowritess @beardropascal @pascaltesfaye @callmeafra @nexy00 @josephquinnswhore @baronessvonglitter @peelieblue @paanchusblog @b3bybunny @sugadolly @ktluvsmen @elliesr1fle @taeslarityy @yourgirljasmin444 @laloestoyvivo @aquanatalie @vickie5446 @cowboybootjoel @olicity-boo @ashleyfilm @withakindheartx @puduvallee @psychoenergy @chuutzuyu

[instantcoughy]

[instantcoughy]

a lover’s pinch | masterlist

professor!joel miller x f!reader

pairing: professor!joel miller x f!reader rating: explicit, 18+ minors dni series summary: a one-night stand with a charming texan turns into something much more thrilling when you discover he is your new college professor. joel miller is entirely off limits. but now that you’ve had a taste, will you be able to keep your hands to yourselves? series warnings/tags: au, university professor joel, age gap [20 something years diff], alcohol consumption, ethically dubious relationship due to inherent power imbalance, explicit smut, angst, secret relationship, joel has both his daughters, joel's profession is very ooc but the core of his personality [grumpy], lore [dilf], mannerisms [being a secret softy] etc etc are all as true to character as my two humble hands can manage. explicit warnings included in each part. main masterlist ziggy's moodboard | ziggy’s moodboard II sil's moodboard ALP playlist

one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine

[instantcoughy]

Ward being indifferent of all things is what really broke me 😫

#the audacityyyyy

ʟɪᴋᴇ ғᴀᴛʜᴇʀ, ʟɪᴋᴇ sᴏɴ

ও ᴀ/ɴ: ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ! ɴᴏᴛ ᴘʀᴏᴏғʀᴇᴀᴅ, ᴇɴɢʟɪsʜ ɪs ɴᴏᴛ ᴍʏ ғɪʀsᴛ ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇ. ɪ ʟᴜᴠᴠᴠᴠ ᴅᴀʀᴋ ʀᴀғᴇ sᴍ. ʟᴍᴋ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛs ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ғɪᴄs ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜɪᴍ. ʀᴇʟʙʟᴏɢs, ʟɪᴋᴇs ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴛs ᴀʀᴇ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏs ᴡᴇʟᴄᴏᴍᴇᴅ! ʟᴏᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʟʟ, ᴅᴇᴀʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀs!

ও ᴛᴀɢ: @rvfecamerons ʙʙʏ, ʟᴍᴋ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ, ɪ'ᴍ sᴏ ɴᴇʀᴠᴏᴜsss ᴀʜʜʜʜʜ

ও ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: ʜᴇᴀᴠʏ ᴅᴠ/ᴠɪᴏʟᴇɴᴄᴇ; ᴄʜᴏᴋɪɴɢ, sʟᴀᴘᴘɪɴɢ, ʀᴇsᴛʀᴀɪɴᴛs, ᴄᴀᴘᴛɪᴠɪᴛʏ? (ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴅ), ᴛʜʀᴇᴀᴛs, sᴡᴇᴀʀɪɴɢ, ᴀʙᴜsɪᴠᴇ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴsʜɪᴘ ᴏᴠᴇʀᴀʟʟ. ɪғ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴜɴᴄᴏᴍғᴏʀᴛᴀʙʟᴇ, ᴅɴɪ!!!

Twigs and little stones scraped and cut your bare feet. Sweat was dripping down your forehead, sticking your once-tidy hair onto your skin. The sky was darkening, only the dim light of the Cameron Residence could be seen behind you as you pushed yourself deeper into the woods between Figure 8 and The Cut.

Air was not reaching your lungs, your veins pumping heated adrenaline instead of blood. You knew you couldn't stop running. If you did...it would be better for you to die, let's just say that.

You prayed to God, not knowing if He was listening or not, to get you safe to another mansion. Your mind was slowly becoming foggy, but you fought for your judgement, trying to think sanely as your feet tapped on the cold, leafy ground.

You couldn't help but let out a tiny, exhausted laugh as you were struggling to catch your breath. You finally escaped him. You managed to run away from the man that manipulated you into thinking he was the one for you, from the one that trapped you into his sickengly loving hands which had hurt you so much. You ran away from Rafe Cameron and you weren't thinking of returning to him not even for a damned moment.

You stupidly chuckled as you were imagining his shocked face when he will discover how he forgot the kitchen window opened and how he will curse himself for leaving you unsupervised.

The forest ended with your run as you stumbled over carnation bushes that were decorating the surroundings of a huge mansion. You searched in your mind any type of memories with this house: no one of the Cameron family mentioned anything about it, so they couldn't tell Rafe that you were there, right?

But, as if fate's goal was to mock you, as your fists banged onto the door, a car pulled from behind. You flashingly looked back, your mind ignoring the concerned voices behind you.

From the black Jeep you knew all too well, your nightmare's father, Ward Cameron himself, got out.

He put on his best plastic smile, slowly approaching you and grabbing your shoulders. You didn't know what to do, you were confused. You wanted to pull away, but Ward was a good man...right? You hoped he would help you. Oh, how incredibly foolish you were...

The family that owned the house asked you if you needed any type of help, but before you could have opened your mouth, Ward spoke. "She is totally fine. She's the daughter of my brother, she just has really severe mental issues."

Your terrified eyes shot up at the older man amd your lips parted in shock at his digusting lie. You wanted to get out of his embrance, but he was significantly stronger than you. You started shaking your head, whispering shaky 'no's, as the family before you watched the scene confused.

Ward rapidly sushed you and turnes back to the family. "Please, enjoy your evening. Don't let us ruin it. She is on safe hands." The people nodded, getting inside their warm shelter, the worry on their face disappearing.

But you felt anything but safe. Ward started dragging you towards his car, when you yanked yourself from his arms. You shakily pulled up the sleeves of the sweatshirt, Rafe's sweatshirt to be more specific, showing Ward the crimson marks that adorned your skin. "This..." you started, vision blurring with tears and voice shaking, "...this is what your son does to me." You spat in disgust.

You were so focused on Ward's indiferent look that you never heard another vehicle joining the Jeep. When you heard a door getting slammed, louder than usual, your eyes went on the grey truck and you froze, even your breath was stuck in your throat, fear suffocating you.

Your boyfriend joined his father, his shadow covering Ward. The look on his face was something you have never seen before. He looked like he wanted to tear you apart with his teeth, he looked like he wanted to kill you, to bring you back to life and to kill you again.

"Just...handle her, Rafe..." Ward spat at his son, and Rafe's eyes left yours, meeting his father's. "She's walking around, makin' our name look like shit. You're a man, damn it! Do something about it!" Ward ordered, his blue orbs scanning your trembling form.

Rafe turned his back at you, following his father to the Jeep. You could've runned easily, but Rafe knew you didn't have any form of courage left in you to do that. "I'll get it done, dad..." Rafe mumbled as Ward got in his car and left the place, leaving you with the devil himself.

Rafe didn't turn around to face you again. You felt the ground under your feet cracking when you heard Rafe growling: "Get here, right fucking now..."

There wasn't anything you could do, you would be lucky if you'll be left alive so your feet carried you next to the truck, in line with Rafe.

Your hair fell on both sides of your face, hiding you from your boyfriend's burning gaze.

Before you could move a finger, Rafe's hand connected with the back of your neck and started dragging you behind his car, and opened the door, tossing you in the passenger seat. Your heart pummeled in your chest and you were struggling to breathe as Rafe got into the car and slammed the door with all his force.

He didn't even look at you as he started driving, but when you let out a small whimper, he turned his head towards you, grabbing a fistfull of your hair and pulled your head right under his chin. You winced in pain, but he gripped harder, making you shut your lips. "If you make a fucking sound, a. single. fucking. sound...I'll shoot you in your head right on this road, I swear..." he grunted, pushing your head back roughly.

Your breathing was shaky, and your eyes were full of tears that were slipping down your cheeks as you pushed yourself in the door, trying to keep as much distance as possible berween you and your boyfriend.

The car pulled in the driveway, the sight of Rafe's gigantic mansion making you shiver. He grabbed your arm in an iron grip and dragged you out of the car. The neighbourhood was quiet, Rafe's heavy steps and your clumsy ones were the only sounds in the thick night.

Rafe knew Rose and Wheezie were on a vacantion in Bahamas, Sarah was with that tramp of a boyfriend of hers and Ward headed to his business, so the house was all his.

When you two got inside, you tried to apologize, to plead, to beg Rafe. But you weren't given this oportunity.

Rafe's hand connected with your face, sending you on the expensive marble floor. Your skin went numb, this feeling funnily familiar.

You weren't given time to recover when Rafe grabbed your jaw, the ring on his middle finger digging into the bone. You whimpered in pain, and you were met with another slap. "Shut the fuck up!" Rafe hissed in your ear, breath hot on your bruised face. His grip was painfully hard, making you open your mouth againts your will. Rafe's thumb went under your tongue, pressing down, meeting his other fingers under your chin. The deed was overly painful and humiliating, making you burst into tears that prelinged down your neck.

"Don't fuckin' cry now...You-you humiliated me. You made me a fool in Ward's eyes...are you really that fuckin' stupid?" your boyfriend yelled. You knew how much Rafe wanted his father's approval, and this...you knew this stunt will make you suffer. "I asked you a fuckin' question..." Rafe snapped, pulling his thumb out of your mouth.

You started hyperventilating, shaking negatively from your head.

Rafe chuckled, making you even more frightened. "Y'know...all these hoes throw themselves at me...and I chose you. And yet...how do you repay me? You run like some attention-seeker whore...embarassing me in front of my dad.." Rafe muttered, his eyes filled with disgust and anger.

"But...don't you worry, baby..." he said, nodding to himself as he grabbed the back of your neck once again, pulling you down some stairs. You started panicking, knowing what will happen.

You stopped walking, pushing back into Rafe's hard chest, only to be thrown forward. Rafe opened the door of his garage, and effortlessly dragged you inside.

He threw you in a corner so roughly that your body felt stiff. You heard him looking through messy drawers and his blue orbs darkened when he pulled out zip ties and a pair of cuffs. You didn't have time to react as he yanked your wrists up and tied them with the plastic zips that bit unforgivingly into your skin.

Then, he hooked one cuff on the zip-ties and he attached the other one to a rusted iron ring that was secured in the stone floor.

You looked horrified at your restrained hands and then back at your boyfriend that slowly crouched next to you, admiring his work. "Let's see how you leave me and talk shit now..." He casually said as it was a random joke.

Rafe brought his hand next to your neck and steadily warpped his fingers around it. You panicked, wondering how much terrified you could get, as your air supply was being cut. Rafe watched you with half a smirk on his pink lips.

You were sure he was rock hard now, you knew how much he adored hurting you. Your vision of a very amused Rafe was being filled by many black dots that were dancing before your eyes. Right when the darkness started consuming you, your boyfriend mercifully released your throat and you greedily inhaled.

He got up and placed a soft kiss on the top of your head and got out, as you were left to cry his name with hoarse voice and beg him not to let you in the darkness, with the many monsters inside your head.

[instantcoughy]

No Way Out ch. 2

Dark!Rafe Cameron x f!Reader

Warnings: noncon, smut, abusive relationship, domestic violence, verbal abuse, drugs, choking

Things escalate in your relationship with Rafe to a boiling point

Blinding rage was the only thing that Rafe could focus on in the small jail cell.

He paced around the cramped space like a caged animal, ready to pounce on anything that walked by the door.

The past day was all too fresh in his mind, replaying like a loop that only fed into his need to get out.

“I’m just worried about how much blow you’ve been doing, Rafe! It’s not good for you.. It just makes you so much more-”

“So much more what?” He snapped back at you and you bit your tongue.

“I don’t know.”

“I think you do.”

“So much more angry,” you timidly replied. “You aren’t yourself when you’re using, baby.”

He rolled his eyes in annoyance, shaking his head with a scoff. “You don’t know what it’s like, Y/N! You don’t get how hard I have to work just for my dad to see what I am capable of. If you had any idea-”

“Oh, if I had any idea how hard it to have a rich dad?” You couldn’t stop the sarcasm from cutting through your voice.

“Watch it,” Rafe growled, a dangerous tone in his voice. You didn’t notice how close he had gotten to you.

“I just don’t think your daddy issues give you an excuse to be doing coke all the fucking ti-” before you could even perceive his movement, you felt a sharp sting blossom across your cheek and you vaguely registered that he had slapped you. Your head whipped to the side, tears springing up immediately.

Completely taken by surprise, you had no time to react before he shoved you to the ground. You fell hard backwards, hitting your elbows and bottom on the floor beneath you. You cried out in pain, cowering away from your boyfriend as he leered above you.

“Talk to me like that one more time and see what fucking happens,” he seethed. He lurched forward and grabbed your wrists with both hands, clenching hard and you let out a sob.

“You should consider yourself lucky!” sneered the blond. “I pay for everything you have! You would be out walking the streets without me.”

His breathing was heavy, but he hadn’t even broken a sweat yet. You shrieked when he yanked you to your feet by your throat, shaking you hard.

Your arms flailed out at his hands, clawing at them and trying to pull him off but it was no use. You gasped for breath, crying out as his fingers dug into your throat.

“P-please-!” Precious air that was running out fueled your pleading. Rafe’s eye twitched, lip curling before he pushed you back to the ground.

Gulping for breath between sobs, you glanced up at the man towering above you in fear. His hand was clenched in a fist, eyebrows furrowed as he shook with rage.

You were terrified by how hard he had choked you, the utter lack of regret in his eyes.

In the early days, fights like these were rare, and on the off occasion that he had laid a hand on you, it was never as intense, and the apology that followed was always 100x longer than the brief fight. Nowadays, you rarely even got an apology.

With a scowl, he examined his arms where you had scratched him and his darkened eyes met yours.

You didn’t fully know why you did what you did next. Or how it unfolded.

Maybe it was instinct. Maybe you were out of options, just so afraid that you did what any trapped animal would do.

You ran.

You pushed yourself off the floor in an instant, rushing out of the living room to the bathroom.

Rafe was bigger than you, stronger than you. Faster.

It was dumb luck that his reaction time was just a moment too slow.

You slammed the bathroom door, locking it behind you as fast as you could. Your heart thundered in your chest, thumping so hard you could hear the blood rushing in your ears.

The door behind you rattled as Rafe punched and kicked at it.

“Open the fucking door, Y/N!!” His fists pounded against the wood and you cowered as far from the door as you could.

Your mind was racing and only then you remembered the cell phone in your back pocket.

With shaky hands, you unlocked it, clicking the phone icon before dialing emergency services.

“Let me in! Open the fucking door bitch!!” He bellowed again. You winced every time the door shook, terrified he was going to knock it off it’s hinges. “I’m gonna fucking kill you!”

Quietly, you begged with the operator to send someone, giving your address to the woman on the phone.

“Please! He- He’s trying to break the door down,” you sobbed. “I’m scared he’s going to hurt me o-or worse!”

“Y/N, I swear to god when I get in there, you’re going to be sorry!” Rafe roared from the other side of the door. He cursed when he hit it too hard, apparently injuring his hand.

You couldn’t do anything but hide in the corner, hoping that he wouldn’t be able to get in before the cops arrived.

Sitting there on the floor felt like hours, but it was probably only a few minutes before you heard a pounding on the front door and you nearly passed out with relief.

The activity outside of the bathroom door stopped suddenly as Rafe realized what was happening. He cursed, loud enough for you to hear, but not nearly at the same volume before.

You knew it was safe to step out of the bathroom when you heard him greet the people at the front door. You brushed the tears from your eyes, trying to compose yourself.

“Good evening officers, what can I do for you tonight?” He was trying to act nonchalant, but there was a tense edge to his voice you couldn’t mistake.

You could hear muffled responses growing louder as you approached the door and you knew the officers must have noticed you, because the speaking stopped and Rafe turned to look at you.

Anger that only you could see flashed across his eyes, but even he knew better than to display it in front of cops. The blond stepped to the side to allow you to stand beside him, and he grabbed your hand lovingly as if to say, ‘look officers, everything is okay here.’

“Are you having any problems tonight ma’am?” One of the officers asked you with a concerned look.

Rafe’s grip on your hand tightened, warning you not to say anything. A lump formed in your throat. Did you even have it in you to say something?

With a sniffle, you plastered on a small smile, “N-no. We haven’t had any issues here.”

The officers looked slightly surprised at that, glancing at each other and exchanging a brief, wordless conversation.

“Well, procedure says that we have to interview you both separately.” One of them explained.

“This is just stupid,” Rafe complained. “I think we’d rather talk to you together, isn’t that right baby?”

Hesitantly, you nodded with lowered eyes, “Yeah.”

“Unfortunately, procedure is procedure, and we have to do it this way.” The woman explained, and her male partner nodded in agreement.

“How about I interview you,” she looked at you. “And my partner will interview you,” she said with a pointed look towards Rafe.

“Fine,” he spat out through gritted teeth, flashing you a warning look before he was led away to talk to the other cop.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when you were left alone, and the cop gave you another concerned look.

“What’s your name honey?”

You told her.

“What happened tonight, ma’am?” She asked you gently and you almost broke down right there. Tears sprung to your eyes and you took a deep breath to calm yourself.

“I-I was so scared,” you confessed. Her eyes wandered to your neck, able to make out the old bruises and the redness on your cheek that had only started to fade.

“He just gets so angry at me and-” a sob cut you off, voice breaking as you remembered the fight. “H-he was choking me, and.. I didn’t think he was going to stop.”

The tears were flowing more now as you recounted what had happened, and the cop gave you a sympathetic look. Your hands fell in your lap and her attention was drawn to your bare legs which were littered with tiny cuts from when Rafe had pushed you into glass the previous week.

She paused before speaking, “Listen, I don’t know how it’s going with my partner, Michael and your boyfriend, but I would feel comfortable taking your boyfriend down to the station based on what you’ve told me. How does that sound to you?”

Your eyes widened in surprise. You didn’t really know what you had expected when you called. You were just so scared with what he might do, you did the only thing you could think.

And now you were faced with an impossible decision.

Agree with this and let them take Rafe, and he would be let out who knows when. But say no, and you would have to face the wrath of Rafe tonight, and you knew that he was more pissed off than you had ever seen him.

Without even knowing that you had made up your mind, you found your head nodding, tears coming to your eyes.

You would deal with Rafe later. But tonight, you were just happy with the idea of sleeping alone for the first time in months.

~~~~~~~

“And so you’re saying you two had an argument, but it never got physical?”

“No, I would never lay a hand on her! You heard her yourself, we haven’t had any problems tonight.” Rafe smiled, southern charm laid on thick. He had dealt with police many times before, and when they weren’t sticking their noses into shit that he was involved in, he respected them.

But he also knew how to manipulate them.

The cops eyed Rafe’s hand and the scratches on his arm.

“Get into a bar fight?” He questioned.

“Ah no, got into a little motorcycle accident. Nothing too bad, just fell over, you know how it is,” the blond chuckled.

“And you don’t know who made the call?” The officer raised an eyebrow as he questioned the blond.

“No clue. Maybe some kids in the neighborhood made a prank call or something,” he laughed casually, throwing a polite smile at the man across from him.

The officer chuckled, “yeah we do get a lot of those.” He clicked his pen, flipping his notebook shut. “Well, I think I’ve got all I needed from you. Thank you very much sir. And uh, tell your dad I said hi.”

“Will do,” Rafe grinned, extending a hand to shake the officer’s.

“You just sit tight here, I gotta talk with my partner real quick and then I’ll update you on what’s going on.”

He walked away from the taller man. Rafe leaned against a tree in the park at the middle of the sprawling apartment complexes watching him walk back.

Most of what they discussed, he couldn’t make out and the female cop turned to look at him several times.

The only thing he did hear was “Hey, do you know who this guy is? That’s Rafe Cameron. Yeah, that Cameron.”

Eventually they both walked over and Rafe stood up straight as they approached.

“So, are we all good here?” He asked, charming smile ever present.

“Well,” she said, looking over at her partner. “Not quite.”

~~~~~~

You locked the front door, the only door, dutiful to make sure all of the windows were locked as well.

You knew that Rafe was going to be in jail for a few nights at least, but you wanted to be careful anyways.

Last night had been the best you had slept in months. No fears of wandering hands, or unwanted advances that you had no emotional capacity for.

Slipping into your bed and being able to be safe while you slept was all you had dreamed about for so long.

You curled up in the blanket, unaware of the sound of the front door opening softly as you tried to drift off to sleep.

The click of your bedroom door opening had you jolting awake though. And you were shocked to see a familiar figure leering in the doorway.

“H-h-how the fuck did you get in here?” You whispered in a panic, sitting up and alert in bed.

“Oh sweetheart, you didn’t think I had a spare made?” His tone was ice cold and mocking. You could almost feel the rage radiating off of him.

Rafe took a step into the room, closing and locking the door behind him and your stomach dropped.

“How are you here? You got taken away, I- I saw it,” you didn’t believe this was happening, couldn’t believe this was happening.

“Ward pulled a few strings, can’t have a stain on the Cameron name,” he spat out bitterly. Rafe stalked further into the room, nearing your bed, a predatory look in his eyes that almost stopped your heart.

Your eyes whipped to the phone on your bedside table and you lurched toward it at the same time that he did.

“Nuh uh. Not this time, sweetheart.” He wrestled with you, hands grabbing at the phone that he wretched from your grasp.

To your horror, he threw your phone against the wall, and you watched it smash to pieces.

Your only lifeline was gone.

You fought back hard against him, but the victor was inevitable. You both knew it from the minute he stepped into the room.

He threw you onto the bed, roughly grabbing at your thin nightwear. He tore your blouse, hands ripping the material as you hit him, trying desperately to stop his assault.

“Stop- stop fucking fighting!” He roared as he kicked your legs open, fumbling with his shorts and you crying intensified.

His hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing hard as he forced himself into you. You let out a strained gasp at the feeling, head falling back against the pillow in shock. Rafe pinned you down against the bed by your throat, cock sliding in and out of you at a torturously fast pace.

“You thought you were gonna get rid of me that easy, Y/N?” Rafe jeered as he snapped his hips against yours. The pressure at your throat increased, forcing you to meet his eyes. “Are you really that stupid?”

You shook your head, tears falling past your lashes. Thoughts jumbled inside your head, the cloud of fear and arousal confused you.

“You got what you wanted. You called the cops, and they aren’t gonna help you,” his lip curled in sadistic pleasure as he belittled you.

His free hand found your wrist, pinning it to the bed as he twisted it painfully. You tried to turn your face away from him when he came close, but he grabbed your chin, holding you in place as his lips smothered yours. His tongue pushed its way into your mouth, lips moving against yours against your will.

A sick feeling was growing in your stomach, the sinful combination of pain and pleasure mixing within you.

Every thrust of his cock had you gasping and moaning against his lips. Your legs shook as he took his anger out on you, plunging deeper and harder than ever before.

The grip at your throat was getting harder, constricting your breathing even more. You gasped when he finally pulled his face away.

“You could have ruined everything,” Rafe seethed. Your teary eyes meant nothing to him. Nauseatingly, you realized that this was a punishment because you had dared to try to leave. Dared to say anything.

“I love you so much, Y/N. You know I do. You know I do. And I’ll be dead in the ground before I let you walk out on me.” He was fucking you frantically now, every thrust a cruel promise of his threats.

When he hit that spot that made you see stars again and again, you came undone. You bit your lip, crying out as your orgasm washed over you. Your legs were shaking uncontrollably, shame burning across your face, conflicted by your body’s reaction.

“Fuuck-” Rafe groaned loudly as you squeezed around his cock, and he came hard, pumping his hot load deep into your sore cunt, before he began to move his hips again.

And when his hungry, piercing eyes met yours again, you knew that the night was far from over.

[instantcoughy]

✨Dark Shades of Innocence Lost Part 4: Meet Me In the Library✨

Club owner! Joel Miller x fem! reader

Series Masterlist

A/N: Thank you to @joelmillerisapunk and @mountainsandmayhem for being my betas 🩷 I hope you guys enjoy this part!

Chapter Summary: Joel shows up at your job unexpectedly and asks you to help him find a book.

Rating: Explicit 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 3.3k

Chapter Tags: Allusions to smut, flirting, pining, Joel asks you to help him find a book, sexual tension

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

  It’s Tuesday, and you still can’t stop thinking about the aftermath of Saturday night. The way Joel took you on the pool table, the way his filthy words rushed through your body and pulled heat to your core, the way he fucked you relentlessly until you were liquid beneath him. But what you really can’t stop thinking about is how soft he was with you after. The way he held you against his chest while his calloused fingers ran softly through your locks, the way he made you feel so… safe.

   He’s… incredible.

   You don’t really pay attention with the stack of books you’re carrying to the back until you run straight into Jane, your coworker who skates circles around you day after day.

   She huffs as you collide into her, and she grabs them out of your hands and gives you a displeased snarl. “Will you just watch where you’re going for once? Honestly, it’s like you’re in a fog lately,” she mutters as she rolls her eyes.

   “Sorry, Jane. Really, I didn’t see you there,” you apologize.

   “You don’t see a lot of things lately,” she mumbles out while holding the books close to her chest. “Just go help some customers, you’re getting on my last nerves.” 

   She whispers curses under her breath as she disappears through the double doors, and you can’t help but giggle as her glasses fall from her head. 

   You guess you should make some use of the rest of your shift. Not like you can pay attention. The only thing you want to think about right now is being underneath Joel again.

   You pick up a copy of an old history book about Greece that was left on the front counter and decide to take it back to where it belongs. As you start to walk past the first wooden bookshelf, you turn the corner and run straight into a broad chest that feels like a thick brick wall. When you look up and see who it is, you freeze. 

   Joel.

   “Joel! What are you doing here?” you gasp as the library book goes tumbling from your shaky hands. Joel quickly catches it with ease before it lands flat on the marble floor.

   “Thought I’d drop by. Was in the neighborhood,” he shrugs. He quickly flips through the white pages of the large book with interest, and you stand and gawk as his calloused thumb glides with ease over the worn pages. 

    “A book about Greece, huh?” he asks as if it’s got your name written all over it.

   “Was just taking it back to the section it belongs in.” You reach out and grab it nicely out of his large hands, but before you can slide your hand away, his calloused skin connects with yours and heat burns automatically through your body like he just set your skin on complete fire.

   You clear your throat and smooth a lock of hair nervously back in place before you give away how ecstatic and nervous you are to see him. 

   “You ever been?” he asks as he nods to the book that’s now in your clutch.

   “What?”

   “To Greece,” he chuckles.

   “Oh, right.” You shake your head out of a trance and pull yourself together. “No, it’s on my bucket list,” you sigh.

   “My, uhhh… my daughter’s actually over there right now studying abroad,” he smiles with pride shining in his chocolate eyes.

   Your eyes go wide as you take in the new information. “You have a daughter?” you ask slowly.

   “Mhm. Her name’s Sarah.”

   “Is she your only one?” you ask curiously, shifting your weight onto your left hip as you hug the history book closer to your chest.

   “Yeah, she’s my only one.” He smiles, and suddenly you’re smiling right back at him with warmth in your cheeks.

   He’s a dad? He’s probably such a good dad, too. How could he not be? Just look at him. He’s soft, sweet, and just so very perfect.

   “What is she studying?” you ask as you let some customers slip past you and Joel by the lit entryway.

   “Architecture,” he states with a small smile edging his beautiful eyes.

   “Architecture?” you ask with a raised brow. “Well then, that’s the perfect place to study,” you smile.

   “Figured the same.”

   “Do you have any pictures?” you ask as you take a step closer to him, letting the book drop in your grasp as you slide next to him.

   He nods as he traces thick fingers through his tousled curls, his eyes sparkling almost onyx as he pulls the iPhone out of the pocket of his dark jeans. His thumb flips through his pictures carefully, and you tense as you see his biceps flex as his fingers work the phone, practically shredding the green flannel that threads around his broad shoulders. You can barely breathe standing this close to him, and he hasn’t even done anything to you today.

   Fuck. You’ve got it so bad.

   He decides on one, stopping his thumb from flipping any further in the photo album, and then he holds it out to show you. You walk straight up to his side, just like a magnet being pulled by gravity, and when you brush against his green flannel you shake inside.

   You smile as you take in the picturesque image on the glow of the screen. Soft ocean waves lap in the back as the sun sets high on the coast. In the middle of the picture stands a young girl that definitely resembles Joel. Long, winding strands of hair fall over her shoulders, a grin as wide as a mile long, and bright eyes flash up to the camera. 

   Joel has a daughter.

   “Wow. It’s so beautiful there. And Sarah? She’s so pretty,” you beam as your eyes lift up to his crinkled, mesmerizing hazel flecks.

   “Yeah, she’s a beauty. And smart as hell. Don’t know where she gets it,” he chuckles as he flips through more photos.

   “I’m sure she gets it from you,” you giggle.

   “Nah. Don’t think so, darlin’,” he laughs.

   He flicks through a few more pictures, showing you the scenery of the glorious country, the architecture, the absolute beauty of it all. And you stand there and hold your breath, clinging to every picture, every word that rolls off his tongue, every flit of his caramel eyes. He’s got your full attention. 

   When he finishes and shoves the phone deep in the pocket of his jeans, he stands back and looks at you. Really takes a good look at you and smiles as he turns his body and brushes his calloused fingertips across your skin. The room is suddenly ten degrees hotter.

   “So, you gonna help me find a good book to read or what?” he smiles, brushing a strand of grey off his tanned forehead.

   You gulp as you watch him, nearly drooling at the sight of his tousled curls and crooked smile. Something about this man just makes you want to follow him anywhere he goes. “You want me to help you find a book?” you laugh as you cling the book about Greece to your chest.

   “Ain’t that what I said?” he asks with a raised brow.

   You roll your eyes and shake your head. “Okay then. Follow me,” you smile, feeling his large presence burn behind your back.

   You slip the book about Greece back into its proper spot in the history section and let your hand slide against the dark wood of the shelf, the sunshine flooding in through the large, cascading windows that surround the back wall.

   You turn around and place your fingers close to your smooth lips, arching an eyebrow as you look him up and down slowly, trying to conjure up the perfect book for him to read. 

   You take in his dark denim jeans, the leather boots that are always laced up perfectly, the soft flannel that hugs his large biceps, his messy grey curls that sometimes fall over his tanned skin, mindlessly gawking at the perfect man that he is. Tall, dark, handsome, just like you always read about in your favorite romance books.

   He smirks your way, catching you staring as he clears his throat. “You jus’ gonna stare or are you gonna give me some recommendations?” he asks playfully with the tick of his jaw.

   You shake your head out of the cloudy fog and nod your head. “Just trying to get a feel for you,” you mumble.

   “Think you’ve already got a pretty good feel of me, wouldn’t you say, angel?” He smirks your way, eyes darkening as you imagine yourself back under his strong body, taking him hard and fast against the pool table, ragged breaths uncontrolled as he takes you over the edge time and time again.

   Fuck. Now is not the time to get all flustered and heated. You’re working.

   “Stop teasing me,” you blush.

   “Didn’t know I was,” he winks. He fucking knew what he was doing.

   “Well, we’re never going to get a book picked out for you at this rate,” you laugh. 

   He shifts his weight and leans on one of the shelves that’s stacked high with literature and history books, looking over you slowly as he says, “Let’s change it up a bit. What’s your favorite book besides Pride and Prejudice?”

   “Mine? I thought we were trying to find something for you,” you say dismantled.

   He shrugs. “Asked you a question,” he states bluntly.

   “This isn’t about me,” you say as you shake your head.

   “No? I’m askin’ because I want to know what you would read. Give me a recommendation off that list, any book you’d read regularly, and I’ll pick that one.”

   “You want to read one of my books?” you ask with wide eyes.

   “Yeah,” he chuckles. “If it’s important to you then I’ll give it a shot. Even if it’s somethin’ I’d never even think to pick up. This’ll jus’… let me inside your mind a bit more.”

   You gawk at him, staring as you curl your fingers around the fabric of your dress, trying to piece together exactly what you just heard. He wants to see inside your mind, wants to read what you would? God, this man will be the death of you.

   “What’s the last book you read?” he asks casually as he follows you through the large library, the bookshelves turning into mazes as you take him further into the back. The area where fantasy and romance are. Your favorite.

   “Oh, you wouldn’t like…”

   “Try me,” he challenges, eyes darkening and narrowing with the hint of a playful smirk on his lips. 

   Oh. He really is serious.

   “Okay then, Miller. Follow me,” you grin as you lead him straight to the fantasy section where the books are spread wide and far, encapsulated by an arch that blocks out half the sunlight, where nobody else is currently standing.

   “Fantasy section, huh? I knew it,” he chuckles under his breath as he leans back against one of the sky high shelves stacked with some of your favorite fantasy books.

   “Yeah, what gave me away?” you ask, fluttering your long eyelashes as your fingertip skates across the various colored hardback covers.

   “Ain’t that what all the pretty girls are readin’ these days?” he smirks, his brown eyes glinting almost gold as he smiles at you from just a few feet away. 

   You shake your head as you search for the book you’re looking for. “Think charm is going to get you far, Joel?”

   “I’d like to think so, angel,” he mutters huskily. Your cheeks burn hot at the way he says that, like he wants to keep going with whatever this is. The thought makes you a bit dizzy, if you’re being honest with yourself.

   You thumb through the section, searching through stacks of colorful books, looking and looking until you find exactly what you want. You pull out the hardcover book and tap the cover, nodding your head as you hand it over to Joel. “Here it is. The last book I read.”

   He takes it from you slowly, opening the cover of the book to read the summary while he hums under his breath, like he’s assessing your choice very carefully. He closes it shortly after and flips it over. “Fourth Wing by Rebecca Yarros?” he asks with one eyebrow raised in question.

   “Mhm,” you hum. “That’s the one.”

   He presses his tongue into the middle of his cheek, flicking his brown doe eyes up to yours as he taps the edge of the book to his side. “Dragons, romance, war?” he asks as he takes a step closer, making you almost drop a book from the shelf as you study his expressive features.

   “Yeah, it’s amazing. In case you haven’t heard, you’re really missing out,” you giggle, twirling the end of a lock of hair around your index finger as nerves pull down your spine.

   “Guess I’ll jus’ have to read it and tell you what I think then,” he smiles as he tucks the book close to his side.

   “Really?” you ask with wide eyes. “You’re not going to say no?”

   “Like I said, let me inside that pretty mind of yours. I wanna read what you’ve read,” he murmurs as he takes another step forward, making your back go flush against the heavy bookshelf as a book slips from your hand and falls to the floor.

   Your breathing goes ragged as he takes two more steps, each one making your heartbeat frantic as he cages you in. He places the book down and then his strong arms brush against your shoulders as his hands land on each side of the bookshelf, his hot breath blowing down your neck as the room suddenly turns scorching hot.

   He leans his head down low and breathes warm air against the shell of your ear as he pushes back a lock of your hair, lingering his calloused fingers on your skin. “You know, I’ve never met a librarian quite as easy on the eyes before,” he whispers. “Especially one that’s so… adventurous as yourself.”

   You suck in a breath, and your cheeks burn crimson red at the compliment. You shake your head and laugh. “Think you might have something to do with that.”

   He chuckles and runs the tip of his thumb against your jawline, making you incredibly frazzled as his chest leans into yours. “Maybe so, little daredevil,” he smirks.

   Your mouth parts open as he brushes his thumb against your bottom lip, making tingles run through your bloodstream as your chest tightens. His deep brown eyes pierce into yours, and they’re so magnetic you feel like you could collide with him at any second. 

   His eyes gaze down to your glossy lips and that stare, that achingly painful, yearning stare shoots absolute want into your body. His plush lips look so soft, soft enough to caress and brush over your own lips.

   The room feels like a sauna now as his body meets yours, hands buzzing on your skin, your mind reeling at the thought of kissing him. Kissing is intimate, kissing leads to more, kissing is dangerous. But yet for the moment you don’t care. The only thing you want, need right now is his lips on yours. 

   Your fingers clutch around the fabric of his flannel, pulling him flush to your chest as your breathing rapidly spirals into a full on panic attack. You’re at work, you should be helping customers, should be anywhere but in the back fantasy section with Joel where the lighting is dim and where practically no one can see you. 

   He leans further into you, taking his hand through your hair, curling his thick fingers under your chin so you’re staring straight into those honey glazed eyes that make you want to melt. And he’s telling you with his body language, with his starry eyes, with that longing stare that he wants to kiss. And you want to. God, you want to.

   He leans in further, tipping your head back till all you see is him, that flash of grey in his curls, his honey eyes searing into you, that longing ache that pulls deep in your gut. You want him, you want him so fucking bad, so why can’t you get up the nerve to kiss him? Why does that stop you when all you can even think about is him?

   “Joel,” you whisper, locking your fingers around his flannel as he pushes you further into the bookshelf, nearly toppling books over as one hand presses hard into your hip.

   “Hm?” he hums as he leans his forehead down against yours, curling his fingers tighter into the cotton material of your dress, pressing his weight into you as you feel every brush of his sculpted body. 

   This is too much, you’re a fucking panting mess. God, you want him to touch you, to take you back to one of the large tables, lay you down and spread your legs wide so he can indulge you in all your wants and desires.

   You need his touch, need his lips like you need air to breathe, but then it’d get complicated. Hell, it’s already complicated. You’re treading into dark water, but you don’t mind the darkness. Not really. Not with him where you think it’s safe.

   He dips down lower, his lips barely an inch from yours as you groan with desire. He’s going to fucking kiss you, and you want him to. You really do, but something snaps hard in your throat, and suddenly you can’t even breathe normally. 

   You turn your head before he can connect with his lips, and you swear you hear a disappointed sign come from his mouth. Goddamn it. He moves a step back and runs his hand through his tousled curls, looking up at you with hopeful brown eyes. 

   “I ummm… I should get back to work. You’ll have to tell me how you like that book,” you reply, pinning one hand behind your back as you dig your long nails into your flesh to keep you from cursing yourself. 

   He chuckles and nods, tapping his finger on the hardback cover. “I’ll be sure to update you every few chapters.”

   “Looking forward to it,” you smile.

   There’s a long pause between the two of you as you sway your hips nervously and bite your bottom lip out of habit. Joel looks back up at you with a spark in his onyx eyes like he has something to ask you. “Hey, are you doin’ anything Thursday night?” he asks with longing eyes.

   Your eyes meet his with a surprising stare. “Thursday? I thought you played pool with the boys on Thursdays?”

   He shrugs his broad shoulders and smiles. “They won’t miss me for one night. Besides, thought I might take a pretty girl out to dinner instead.”

   Your eyes gloss over at the statement. Dinner. He wants to take you to dinner. Was this a… date?

   “Oh, you mean you want to take me out to eat?” you ask as you gulp nerves down.

   He chuckles. “Yeah, that I do. I know this really great diner called Sal’s. Ain’t ever too busy. Really great burgers. Old fashioned. It’s uhh one of my favorites,” he smiles.

   Your gaze softens, and you feel as if your legs are weak like jello. “Okay,” you smile, feeling your cheeks burn crimson.

   He smiles back, a dizzying crooked smile that makes you just want to sing. “Okay then. Around 7:00 okay? I can pick you up.”

   You nod your head and smile. “Sounds perfect.”

   “Great. Guess I’ll see you Thursday, pretty girl,” he smiles, brushing his knuckles over your cheek ever so softly. 

   “Guess you will,” you smile.

   You don’t know what it is, but something shifts inside your body. A longing, yearning feeling that feels a lot like need and infatuation. You’re falling for him and fast, and you don’t know if you want anyone to catch you but him.

[instantcoughy]

Tips for writing those gala scenes, from someone who goes to them occasionally:

Generally you unbutton and re-button a suit coat when you sit down and stand up.

You’re supposed to hold wine or champagne glasses by the stem to avoid warming up the liquid inside. A character out of their depth might hold the glass around the sides instead.

When rich/important people forget your name and they’re drunk, they usually just tell you that they don’t remember or completely skip over any opportunity to use your name so they don’t look silly.

A good way to indicate you don’t want to shake someone’s hand at an event is to hold a drink in your right hand (and if you’re a woman, a purse in the other so you definitely can’t shift the glass to another hand and then shake)

Americans who still kiss cheeks as a welcome generally don’t press lips to cheeks, it’s more of a touch of cheek to cheek or even a hover (these days, mostly to avoid smudging a woman’s makeup)

The distinctions between dress codes (black tie, cocktail, etc) are very intricate but obvious to those who know how to look. If you wear a short skirt to a black tie event for example, people would clock that instantly even if the dress itself was very formal. Same thing goes for certain articles of men’s clothing.

Open bars / cash bars at events usually carry limited options. They’re meant to serve lots of people very quickly, so nobody is getting a cosmo or a Manhattan etc.

Members of the press generally aren’t allowed to freely circulate at nicer galas/events without a very good reason. When they do, they need to identify themselves before talking with someone.

[instantcoughy]

Dark fics aren’t for everyone so beware of the warnings issued in those writers’ stories. The themes and characters tackled by each author are specified below their names. To be listed, the inquiries in this post must be answered. A general black authors list also exists.

Banner designed by @sgt-seabass. 

@syntheticavenger​ - masterlist - ao3

Characters: Chris Evans and Sebastian Stan characters, Thor, Loki

Themes: possessive behavior, manipulation, gaslighting, non-con, dub-con, forced marriage, forced relationship, forced pregnancy, non-con bdsm.

@cherienymphe​ - masterlist - ao3

Characters: Peter Parker, Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Loki Laufeyson, Thor Odinson, Natasha Romanoff, Druig, Sherlock Holmes (Henry Cavill), Ransom Thrombey, Rafe Cameron, The Joker (Jared Leto), Michael Gray, Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Steve Kemp, Chris Evans, Harry Styles

Themes: Yandere, manipulation, gaslighting, rape, violence, blood play, twisted views of love, possession, kidnapping, exophilia (werewolves, vampires, etc), forced pregnancy, power imbalances

@honeydulcewrites​ - masterlist

Characters: Steve Rogers, Henry Cavill

Themes: kidnapping, corruption kink, possessive/controlling behavior, cnc,  dubcon, humiliation, dumbification kink, bdsm, Stockholm syndrome, daddy kink, ddlg

@angrythingstarlight​ - masterlist - ao3

Characters: Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Ari Levinson, Andy Barber, Destroyer! Chris, Ransom Drysdale

Themes: dark!reader, gaslighting, kidnapping, dub/con, murder, possessive behavior, bdsm, jealousy, exophilia, abuse of power, omegaverse, age gap, basement wife, forced pregnancy, stockholm syndrome, and most kinks including somnophilia.

@xsapphirescrollsx​ - masterlist - ao3

Characters: Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Superman/Clark Kent, Arthur Curry

Themes: dub-con/non-Con, possessive behavior

@awesomerextyphoon​ - masterlist

Characters: Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Thor, Loki, Sam Wilson

Themes: Dub/Non-Con, Kidnapping, Drug Use, Obsessive Behavior, Light Bondage, Yandere

@bamposworld​ - masterlist

Characters: Peter Parker

Themes: gaslighting, power imbalances, non con/Dub-Con and codependent behavior, soft dark

@queenoftheworldisdead​ - masterlist

Characters: Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Thor, Loki, Peter Parker, Andy Barber, Ransom Drysdale, Brad Pitt and Keanu Reeves

Themes: non-con/dub con, bondage, breeding kink

@rustytricycle​ - masterlist

Characters: Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Thor, Loki, and Andy Barber.

Themes:  dub-con, non-con, drugging, possessive and obsessive behavior, kidnapping, gaslighting, abuse of power, knife play and blood play, somnophilia, forced pregnancy, forced abortion, murder, forced medical procedures, gagging, violence, injury, restraints, forced voyeurism, dark readers

@geniedetails - masterlist

Characters: Chris Evans RPF, Steve Rogers, Andy Barber, Ari Levinson, Bucky Barnes

Themes: stalking, infatuation, kidnapping, corruption, forced parenthood, authority, Stockholm Syndrome

@darksideofthecocoamoon​ - masterlist

Characters: Peter Parker, Arvin Russell, Timothée Chalamet, Paul Atreides, Laurie Laurence, King Hal 

Themes: dub con, non con, stalking, manipulative and possessive behavior, kidnapping, gaslighting, abuse of power, knife play and breath play, somnophilia, forced breeding, gagging, violence and death, injury, blasphemy, bondage

@boxofbonesfic​ - masterlist - ao3

Characters: Marvel, LOTR, Star Wars, Chris Evans and Sebastian Stan characters

Themes: obsessive/possessive and toxic behaviors, manipulation, gaslighting, dubcon/noncon.

@jamalflanagan​ - masterlist - ao3

Characters: Bucky Barnes, tasm! Peter Parker, Sam Wilson, Thor, Ransom Drysdale, Robert Pronge, Hela, Sif & the warriors 3, Bryce Langley, Lee Bodecker, Andy Barber, Nick Fowler

Themes: stalking, manipulative behavior, gaslighting, possessive behavior, dubious consent, murder, controlling behavior, forced breeding, bdsm, abuse, kidnapping

@strangeprincex  - masterlist - ao3

Characters: Stephen Strange, Valkyrie, Wanda Maximoff, Loki

Themes: Possessive behaviour, violence and threatening behaviour, non-con sex, bdsm and humiliation, kidnapping, hypnosis, blasphemy, body horror and angst.

@avintagekiss24​ - masterlist - ao3

Characters: Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Andy Barber, Steve Kemp

Themes: non-con/dub con, kidnapping, manipulation, BDSM, stalking, degradation

@golden-ariess​ - masterlist

Characters: Steve Rogers

Themes: stalking, possessive/ controlling behavior. Slight Stockholm syndrome.

@hauntedelation - masterlist - ao3

Characters: Bucky Barnes and Sebastian Stan characters, Thor, Loki , Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, Bruce Wayne, Steven Grant/Marc Spector

Themes: dubcon/non con sexual activity, possessive behavior, stalking, manipulation, age gap, cheating, violence, and gore

@gothgirlmahi​ - masterlist

Characters: Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Carol Danvers, Thor.

Themes: non con, obsessive/unrequited love, manipulation, and kidnapping

[instantcoughy]

This was amazing 👏 🤩 🙌

Like a Drug

Toxic!Anakin x Reader

a/n: hihihi, this one is a pretty long one shot ahh sorry! its based on this ask from @hanasnx ! (Though I did change the promp a little) I just wanted to also update that It is officially finals week- so I'll be slower than i alr am SORRY!! but i have been working on the next xhapters of allow me and enigma when i get breaks!! I hope u enjoy! ALSO! Please don't stay w someone if they act the way anakin does in this fic- this is purely a scenario for fictional purposes, never let anyone do anything he does, to you.

Anakin has a very peculiar way of showing his love; well you call it love other people call it an unhealthy obsession... you finally realize how fucked up the situation is and leave- but the real question is how long can you stay away?

warnings: cursing, toxic bf ani, smex, cumplay, agressive behavior, mention of blood, fights, alluded sexual harassment, anakin is obsessive and posessive. (he's does some fucked up shit)

_____________________

“Get up” Anakin’s stern voice rang as he gripped your upper arm. 

You jumped at the unexpected contact- why was Anakin here? 

“Ani! You scared m-” you started to laugh before he tightened his grip.

“Now.” he growled. 

You looked back at your friends sitting across the table from you; their eyes were wide. Before you could say anything, Anakin started to pull you up. 

“Let go of her!” one of your friends demanded. 

He snapped his head towards her and only loosened his grip on you to stomp to the other side of the table. His tall frame towered as he glared daggers at her. 

“The fuck did you just say?” he spat.

She went pale and looked down at her lap. 

“That’s what I thought. Anyone else have any smart comments?” he huffed, before promptly pulling you out of the restaurant. 

Before you made it all the way out the door you mouthed an “its ok” to your friends before following your boyfriend outside. 

“Anakin, what the fuck?” you exclaimed, throwing your hands in the air. 

He continued towards his sleek black camaro (he loved to drive through the city at night, music blaring and his hand on his property, your thigh). 

“Don’t fucking ignore me Anakin!” you shouted, gaining the attention of an older couple who were heading inside the restaurant. 

Your cheeks burned as you caught their stares, but honestly you were used to this shit, it wasn’t the first time you and Ani had made a scene in public. Anakin always did this- he would get pissy over some irrelevant thing and you would get into an argument. 

He stopped and turned with such anger.

“You really wanna know? You shouldnt have to fuckin’ ask why I’m upset! If you ever thought of anyone but yourself you’d see how fucked up it is of you to get dinner with those bitches who want to break us up” he screamed; his beautiful blue eyes dark with rage. 

You knew Anakin hated your friends. And you knew they hated him.

“You know they don’t like me and always try to get you to leave- Meanwhile those sluts cant keep their legs shut; they’re probably just jealous cause I’m the only guy who gets to fuck you and they have to find a new one every night!” he spat. 

Most of your friends were in stable relationships, but of course Anakin didn’t bother to remember that. 

“How am I selfish Anakin? I just wanted to grab dinner with the girls and you didn’t even come up. I told them not to bring you up after the last fight” you sighed, exhausted from Anakin's irrational moods. 

His sculpted jaw clenched and his right eye twitched. 

“It's the fact that you still even allow their company, it’s disrespectful.”

You shook your head and huffed in disbelief. 

“Anakin, you are absolutely unbelievable. Un-fucking-believable… Do you even hear yourself right now?!” you screamed. 

“And not that it should even fucking matter, but how did you even know I was with them?” 

“I have your location- you know that” he stated as if you asked if the sky was blue. 

“I know that, but how about them?”

He knew where they were because he made several alternative snapchat accounts and pretended to be someone from school who was just looking for new friends.

He spent nights pretending to be an excited freshman who was wondering where the science building was. He used remix to send your friends snaps that made it look like he was on campus or hanging out downtown with other students. And eventually he gained their trust enough for them to turn on their snap map for him so he could “make sure they were safe” if they went somewhere, since it's “dangerous for us college girls down here”. 

“Intuition.” 

You rolled your eyes and laughed, “No way, you probably chipped their phones or some psycho shit cause you’re fucking crazy Anakin!” 

“Well if you just goddamn did what I told you we wouldn’t have to have these conversations or be in these situations” he replied dryly. 

“How many fucking “rules” are there for me to follow?! Everytime I go out or do anything, you find something to nit pick! It's exhausting! I don’t even know why I’m still with you?!”

“Get in the car.” he demanded. 

“You’re insane if you think-”

His whole demeanor shifted and he sighed, “baby, please… I’m sorry, let’s talk about this”. 

“No, Anakin- i’m done with your bullshit” you said, heading back towards the building. 

He felt his scarred eye twitch, but he needed to subdue his temper (just until he could take it out on your pretty pussy).

See, Anakin Skywalker was a master manipulator. He knew that no matter how much you fought or how insane he acted- you would always come back.

This was clockwork for him. You’d fight, he’d act vulnerable, you would fuck, and then you’d be good for a while. A perfect system. Never failed. 

He called your name with a desperate plea- he had no problem acting needy if it got him to where he needed to be, plus this gave you the illusion of having power in this familiar situation. 

You hesitantly turned around to meets his gaze; his beautiful blue eyes glassy with his brilliant manipulation. 

“Baby, I’m sorry- I just worry about you..” he spoke softly as you subconsciously came closer. 

Soon his strong arms were wrapped around your waist and his scent flooded your senses. 

“You know I can't control my feelings sometimes- I just love you too much- I can’t lose you too…” he whispered into your hair. 

You knew exactly what he was referring to with the “too”- his mother. He was very close with her, growing up she was all he had. A few years back she passed away and it took a big toll on your lover.

You never wanted to admit it, but you knew he used that to guilt trip you into staying or to get you to feel bad for him. 

You hated him. 

But you couldn’t stop…

You held him tighter and grabbed his shirt fabric, “I know Ani… I know”.

You were now crying too- You knew this was unhealthy- toxic even; but you just couldn’t quit him. 

You felt his strong arms lift you up and he carried you towards his camaro; you knew what came next… He’d comfort you, fuck you, then you would act as if no argument ever happened.

A cycle you had gotten all too familiar with. 

__________________________________

“F-fuck” Anakin stuttered as he slammed his cock into you; intensive sounds of your bodies colliding, ricochet off the bedroom walls. 

“You feel s-so good Baby- doin’ so good for me” he praised as he thrusted in and out of your plush walls. You were lying on your back as he held one of your legs over his shoulder so he could hit even deeper. 

The glorious feeling of his calloused hands along your smooth stomach made you shiver. When you first started dating Anakin he told you that he would please you so well that no other men would be able to compare.

he was right…

No man could navigate your body the way he does, read your tells like he could, no man could make you cum as well as Anakin could.

He slowed his hips for a moment making you whine at the lack of movement from his thick cock. 

“Look at me baby”. 

You blinked your doe eyes open, tears falling from the corners. He observed your features before his eyes softened. 

“My girl, my pretty girl… always so lovely” she smiled before tenderly kissing you. 

“I love you more than anything” he whispered against your plump lips. 

This.

Moments like this were why you stayed: he could be kind- he was sweet- he did care. 

You were about to reciprocate his statement but were cut off by his hand tightly gripping around your throat as he continued snapping his hips into yours.

You squealed with each powerful thrust- it was ok, you’d tell him later. 

His swollen member was blushing red and as hard as could be. He absolutely adored having you below him, taking his dick like a champ- he remembered how proud he was when you were finally able to take all of him. 

A particularly hefty thrust sent his neurons firing and he knew he was almost at his end. He sloppily bucked his hips into your pelvis as his breathing became more erratic. 

“I’m gonna cum- w-where do you want it sweet girl?” he half stuttered, half moaned.

You patted your chest and gave Anakin a knowing look. 

With that he was gone, his brows knitted together in ecstasy and his hips lurched forward. A string of obscenities left his mouth as he quickly slid his dick out of you to aim for your chest. 

Barely one pump in, his warm seed coated your chest. You watched as his abs and thighs contracted with each wave of pleasure. Some of his damp curls stuck to his forehead, he had a sheen of sweat, and his cheeks were flushed. 

What a beautiful sight. 

_________________________________________

Anakin’s fingers tucked some wild strands of hair behind your ear as you slept peacefully beside him.

Last night cut it a little closer than he normally would have, but it all worked out because here you were, still with him- fast asleep in his bed. 

He grabbed your phone and began to go through your messages (an unhealthy habit he picked up a few months back), his fingers immediately moved to the new notifications from your friends.

He opened the pinned group chat and read the messages from last night. 

Where r u? Where’d he take u?

Are you alright?

WTF was that?!

Anakin rolled his eyes; your friends were always so dramatic. But he smiled when he saw your response. 

“Guys i'm good, ani took me home and we talked things out- he’s just been really stressed out lately, it's nothing to worry about!”

You were his good girl and he’d spoil you today for your loyalty. 

He continued to scroll passively until he got to the newer unread messages. 

y/n, can we all please talk when you get back- we’re worried about you

Yea, anakin doesn’t seem like he has the best intentions

We hate to see you in this situation

Babe, he’s toxic- u need to dump him

“...u need to dump him”

Anakin almost threw the phone across the room- no way these bitches were telling you to dump him?!

He was the only one who took care of you, he was the only one who knew what was best for you- who did these girls think they were?!

Before he could stop himself he took out his own phone and copied all of their numbers down so he could send several nasty message to the girls basically telling them to back the fuck off and being unnecessarily hateful.

After he blocked their numbers, he decided it was time for a shower, so he left you with a kiss and headed to the bathroom. 

The emptiness of the bed made you wake. For a moment, you began to search for Anakin but the shower in the other room indicated where he was. 

You smiled and cuddled further into his sheets. The warmth of the blankets began to pull you back into slumber but your phone interrupted the notion. 

It was one of the girls you had gotten dinner with last night, what would she be calling this early for?

“Hello?”

y/n, I’m sorry but you need to come back now, I don’t think it's the best idea for you to be with anakin-

“Wait, slow down… why?”

She sent you screenshots of the messages he sent and you almost dropped your phone.

“What the fuck?! Anakin sent this?”

Yes, this morning- I really think you should get out of that relationship y/n- I’ve been telling you this! He’s trying to make you dependent on only him- it's not healthy!

You took a moment to regain your thoughts and quickly said a goodbye when you heard the water stop running. 

Why would he be so cruel? You knew he had his issues but he’d never been so explicitly viscous before. Maybe your friends were right, you had been manipulated so much that you were defending his toxic behavior. This had to stop. 

You knew you wouldn’t be able to face him for long (he would just pull you back in). So you quickly began to gather your things so that it would be easier to leave after you talked with him. 

You almost had everything packed when the doorknob turned to reveal a fresh Anakin; his hair was still damp from the shower and his skin had a glistening shine from the residual steam. He had such a big smile… you hated this, but it needed to be done. 

“What’s going on princess?” he frowned when he saw your bag was already packed. 

“Anakin… I have to go” you said hurriedly. 

He moved in front of you and held up a hand, “Woah, can we talk about what’s going on? Why are you leaving in such a hurry?” he asked (genuinely worried). 

With a sigh, you looked him in the eye, “Anakin- we can’t keep doing this- we aren’t good for eachother”. 

He felt his chest tighten. 

“Was it your friends? Did they put those thoughts in your head?! I told you they weren’t-”

“Anakin! Please, enough! I saw what you said to them- Why the fuck would you say that? You’re not acting like the man I fell in love with… You’ve changed so much” you said with watery eyes.

For a moment he looked as if he were going to punch something but eventually he let out a breath and defeatedly stood to the side. Your words seemed to really hit him. 

“Angel, I do what I do because I love you- you know that. I know I’m messed up- but I’ve been working on it, Truly” he promised.

Tears fell as you shook your head, “I know Ani, but it's not fair to me- I can’t keep doing this! We always end up fighting and you always get upset”

“I DON'T!” Anakin unintentionally shouted, making you shrink away from him. 

“This is what I'm talking about Ani, I don’t wanna do this- no, i’m not doing this anymore. I’m leaving” you said, grabbing your things and heading for the door. 

He called your name but you ignored him, you almost got to his front door when he grabbed your upper arm. 

“Let go!” you shouted, snatching your arm from his hold.

“Please, just leave me alone” you cried as you walked out of the house and headed for the uber you sneakily called while he was still in the shower. 

As the uber drove away, you saw a confused and hurt Anakin standing in his driveway.

You put your head in your hands and cried… 

It needed to be done.

It had to. 

_________________________________________

A few months later

The early autumn air nipped at your skin as you haistilly exited the rowdy club. You shivered and crossed your arms after checking the time. 

10:34 pm

You had only gotten to the damn club 30 minutes ago and you already wanted to leave. You and some friends had gone out to reward yourselves for a hard week (and to hopefully get your mind off of your ex).

Some guy in the club had gotten a little too handsy fior your comfort- he attempted to put his hand up your dress and grope your breasts while you were just leaning over the bar to order another drink. You slapped him across the face and made your way outside to get some air. 

You wanted to leave; as you stood by the curb you felt the familiar sting of tears pricking at your eyes. 

Fuck. 

The sensation of alcohol warmed your tummy and clouded your thoughts. Warm, strong hands protecting you from any other man who dared to look at you. Fierce blue eyes warding off any unwanted attention- 

No. 

You physically shook your head and opened your phone to distract yourself. There was no fucking way you were thinking about him right now. You scrolled to your uber app and looked up rates for a ride back to your apartment. 

$40, $35, $47, $32, $43

The rates were through the roof, no way you were going to pay that just to get a few blocks home. 

Almost instinctively, your hands moved so that your thumb was shivering over Anakin’s number. 

What were you doing?!

You were about to swipe off when you realized: you weren’t willing to take an expensive uber, but you also didn’t want to walk that far in heels and at night. Maybe you should call him… at least you know him and he does owe you a favor anyways. 

Fuck it. 

You unblock and dial his number. 

Ring…

Ring…….

Ring………..

Voicemail.

You groaned. You knew very well what he was doing- he was making you call several times so that you would look desperate. He loved doing that shit. You dialed again. 

Ring…

 Rin- 

“Hey sweet thing, finally came to your senses?” he said, smugness dripping off his every word. 

“Anakin- please come pick me up” you sniffed. 

“And why would I do that? Why would I do you a favor after you’ve been such a bra-”

“Ani- someone tried to touch me- I wanna go home” you cried. 

The other end of the phone went silent. Anakin’s eye began to twitch and his grip on the phone tightened. 

“Where?” he gritted out. 

“What? I’m on fourth street, over by the old mill-”

“Where did he touch you?” he interrupted. 

You took a breath- maybe you shouldn’t have called Anakin, you knew he was going to cause a scene- but at the same time a dark part of you wanted him to become violent with his passion for you. 

“He put his hand up my skirt and started groping my breas-”

“I’m on my way” is all he said before finally adding-

“That fucker is dead.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, Ani was coming. 

___________

Anakin’s knuckles were a fiery red as he dealt several blows to the man who had dared to touch his girl. His vision clouded by rage and hatred; how dare someone try to touch what was his. 

Sure, you were broken up (or so you thought); but anakin saw it as just a small break- You were getting back together- he knew it.

All he was waiting on was your call. 

Once he was satisfied, he stood up and shook the blood off of his hand. He looked over his work; the man’s face wa bloodied and his lip was cracked (there was also possibly a tooth missing but Anakin didn’t really give a  fuck). 

He leaned over and spat, “Don’t ever touch someone who isn’t yours again”. 

He made his way through the crowd of stunned onlookers who all began to back away from him as he headed towards the bathroom. Once he got there, everyone stepped out and allowed him to walk in with no hesitation (They didn’t want to get on his bad side in any shape or form). 

He leaned on the sink and examined the cut on his cheekbone. 

Whatever. 

He turned on the faucet and washed the blood from his hands; no need for his beautiful girl to see the blood of a fucking perv. 

He dried his hands and exited the building to collect you from outside the building. 

You stood there, arms crossed, his jacket draped over your shoulders: his Angel. 

“Hey, sweetheart” he called in a soft voice as he put his arm around you. 

You looked at him with big eyes. 

“Are you alright?” He kissed your forehead. 

You nodded and hugged him closer to you.

“It's all taken care of, let's get you home”

______

“I knew you’d come back” he broke the silence in the car (well, the radio was on- but you hadn’t spoken since he left the club).

“Anakin, can we please not talk about this right now? '' you said quietly. 

He glanced at you and put a tender hand on your thigh. 

“Angel, these past few weeks without you have been hell… I’m sorry for how I acted- I love you”.

You knew this was just another way he was trying to manipulate you- he definitely don’t attempt to better himself, but you couldn’t help but indulge him- after all… you missed him too. You placed one of your hands on top of his and met his eye. 

“Ani- will you take me to your’s?” you asked shyly, as if you hadn’t spent countless nights in his bed. 

He smiled and rubbed his hand along your leg, “Of course darling”. 

“Maybe I can help relieve some of your stress too,” he added with a deeper tone. 

You mentally sighed- of course he wanted that; but you also wouldn’t mind having him near you again, so you politely nodded with a smile. 

He squeezed your thigh, “That’s my girl, I knew you couldn’t quit me that easy”

You turned your head to look out the window at the bright city once more… He was right- you just couldn’t quit him.

***

Once again anakin is completely fucked up in this fic- pls dont romantiscice this behavior in real life... other than that- I hope you enjoyed the fic lmfaooo. I haven't really written ani as an actually problamatic character before, its mostly just like rude or grumpy ani lmfao. but ty for stopping by!!

[instantcoughy]

Blue Hour

outlaw!Joel Miller x runaway hitchhiker!f!Reader

Word count: 2,852

Summary: hitchhiking in the cruel Texas desert, you're picked up by a handsome stranger

WARNINGS: outlaw!Joel (not mentioned exactly what criminal activity he's involved in, but he does bear scars and looks as if he's been in a fight recently), also he's on the run, brief mentions of parental abuse and alcoholism, strangers to lovers, loss of virginity, unprotected p in v sex (birth control is briefly discussed), soft!Joel (he's respectful of boundaries)

Author's Note: I had initially wanted to do a trucker story, but thought that the criminal element fit better here. I would absolutely love to see a trucker!Joel fic if it doesn't already exist. Please do tag me if it does! Also this is lightly edited but the love is there..

You're both running from something; that's how you find each other.

On a lonely stretch of highway in West Texas, Joel Miller picks you up on the side of the road, his mindset one of penance. If he does a good thing by saving someone maybe he can save himself. You're just glad to get away, as far away as possible from a mom who drank all the time, berated you, beat you, and was only at her most peaceful when she was passed out cold.

It's a danger in and of itself to get into Joel's truck, and a danger to come into his motel room, but to you, any other place is safer than where you grew up. The little roadside motel is brightly lit, welcoming, the sign neon against the cerulean summer evening sky.

By the fluorescent glow of the cheap TV screen with its staticky channels you exchange your stories. Joel doesn't tell you much apart from the fact that he's headed to New Mexico, and the scar on his nose, the way he's healing from a black eye you surmise is probably from a couple weeks ago. He carries a gun and his wallet is thick with cash. You can tell he's bad news but you don't care. You're just happy to have a roof over your head for the night and a plan of some sort of future taking shape in your mind.

With only one bed he offers to take the floor, but you insist it's fine to share. He's been a gentleman so far, despite the obvious flirtatious vibes you've been giving. It's impossible to keep to yourself as you both settle down to sleep. Your new life started the day you walked away from your home. You're a different person in this bed, laying on a cheap mattress with a handsome stranger. And, though you've never gone much farther than kissing, the newness of desire tugs at you from deep within.

"Joel.." his back is turned to you and he barely catches you calling for him. You press your hands to his back, which immediately gets his attention. He looks at you with slight confusion, as if he'd forgotten you were there, and when he sees the meaningful look in your eyes he knows what it is you want, and you don't stop him when he pulls you close.

Joel's fingers tangle in your hair, his other hand roaming over your waist and hip, caressing and claiming you with a hungry and desperate fervor. You moan softly, your tongues dancing against each other, and you melt under the sweet shared pleasure. Your fingers slip beneath his shirt, feeling the broad smooth expanse of his back.

His senses are afire as your fingers trace along his bare skin, and his own hands continue to wander, skimming along your sides, gently caressing the curve of your hip. He pulls back just enough to take a breath, his forehead coming to rest against yours, breathing in short, shallow gasps.

"I like the way you taste," you tell him, your confession soft and simple in the twilight glow of the room, your words caressing his lips. Joel's eyes darken with desire as he gazes at you in the semi-darkness.

"Yeah? And how do I taste, darlin'?" There's an edge of a growl to his words, his fingers stroking softly along your cheek, a fusion of longing and restraint etched into his expression.

"Like cinnamon, and whiskey," you whisper. "You taste like pleasure.."

He pulls you closer, nudging his nose against yours as a low, possessive growl rumbles in his chest. "You taste like sunshine and sweetness, sugar.." He dips his head back down to capture your lips in another searing kiss, his tongue slipping between your lips, swallowing your moans. Every sound, every gasp you make, fuels the fire burning within him, igniting an intoxicating blend of desire and hunger.

One arm wrapped around your waist, his other hand slides down your back, trailing fire along your skin as he moves lower, gently cupping your ass and pulling you against the heated length of his body. You gasp at the intimate touch. The way he presses you to his hardness awakens and excites something in you. "Joel!" you gasp.

The sound of his name, breathed out so sweetly from your lips, sends a shiver down his spine. "That's it. darlin'.. say my name.."

You whimper at the sweet friction as he continues to deliberately press you to his hardened arousal, kneading your cheeks. "Joel.." you say obediently, whispered in innocent pleasure.

He groans softly. "That's my good girl.." He presses you against him once more, allowing you to feel the full extent of his arousal, the heat and weight of it grinding against your core. Desire floods your veins and you slowly undulate your hips, finding little comfort in merely rubbing against him. "Fuck, you drive me crazy, darlin'," his voice is husky and raw with need.

"I want you.. please don't make me wait.." you tell him.

"Yeah? You want me.. like this? Is this how you want me to fuck you?" Joel's voice drips with primal need as he grinds against you, feeling the heat and wetness, his own arousal painfully hard at this point.

You nod, your breath catching in your throat. "I can't think about anything else right now. Just you.. with me."

"Darlin', I can't hold back anymore.." he warns, but he takes time to ask about birth control, and you assure him you are covered.

You reach up to kiss him, before breaking apart a moment to take off your top and help him remove his own. The feel of his warm flesh against yours is heavenly. He bears scars and old wounds upon his flesh, evidence of a life lived in danger. But right now you only think about how warm he feels, how strong he is. "I just want to feel your skin against mine for a little bit.."

Joel's touch is almost reverent as his large, calloused hands roam your bare skin, learning the contours of your soft supple flesh, cupping each breast. "My sweet girl.." he whispers in awe.

Likewise, you trace every little scar, thinking on how each of those fights, those deadly interactions, brought him one step closer to you. "I need you," he whispers, feeling more alive, brand new under the heat of your palms on his chest. His fingers find the waistband of your panties and his eyes quickly flick to yours, seeking permission. "Is this all right?" You nod eagerly, "Lift up your hips for me," comes his quiet command, and he gently tugs at the elastic, slowly pulling your panties down your thighs. He sees you laid bare before him, your inner thighs moist with desire, the curls on your mound dewy with want. "God damn.. you're so beautiful.. I wanna taste you.." he groans, pressing a heated kiss against the sensitive skin just beneath your hipbone.

You sigh at his kiss, his beard pleasantly scratching your skin. "Yes.. please.."

Joel's tongue flicks out to taste the heated flesh between your thighs, groaning softly at the flavor of you on his tongue before he begins to lick through your slick, puffy folds. He smiles as you gasp, your eyes wide and mouth parted in an O. "Joel!" you moan, panting as his tongue explores you. When he said he wanted to taste you, you assumed he meant more kissing. You hadn't expected this, hadn't known this was possible. Your fingers fist in his hair as he continues. He groans against you, the sound vibrating deliciously against your cunt. "Taste so sweet,.. like heaven.. my sweet girl.." he whispers between long, languid licks, his arms wrapping around your trembling thighs, holding you open for him as he feasts. His tongue flicks and dances over your clit, swirling and teasing, wanting to learn every inch of you, what makes you scream and what makes you whimper, getting drunk on your taste like a thirsty man lost in the desert.

Your hips arch up to meet each lick, each worshiping swipe as his pace becomes more insistent, following the sound of your moans and sighs, feeling the shivering in your body, his tongue flicking and circling in a hungry rhythm, determined to bring you to the brink.

Your thighs start to quake but he expertly keeps them spread open, feasting on you. "God! Joel, I'm coming!" Pleasure uncoils from the very center of you, radiating outward, controlling every other sense and thought. His hands grip your shaking thighs, lapping up all your sweet nectar. "That's it, darlin', let go for me.. I got you.." he whispers. He gently eases you through your orgasm, tongue slowing, savoring every drop he can. "God damn, sweetheart.. you taste so damn good.. you doing okay?"

"Yes," you pant, a light sheen of sweat forming on your skin. "Oh, Joel," you moan, bringing him to you for a kiss and tasting your flavor on his lips and tongue. He rises, crawling up your body until his weight is draped over you, his arms caging you in as you kiss, sharing your taste with you. He gazes down at you, the way you trust him implicitly ignites a mix of feelings: a raging, possessive need, a deep sense of responsibility, and a swelling of unbridled affection and adoration. He lifts a hand to gently caress your cheek, his thumb tracing soft patterns against your skin. You can see his heart and soul bared to you in that simple touch. Your skin is flushed, hair mussed, eyes bright. You've never looked more beautiful.

Joel shifts his weight, pressing closer against you, the pressure of his hard length against your hip undeniable as your eyes meet. You take him gently into your hands, grasping and feeling him. He groans at the softness of your hands wrapping around his arousal, eyes glazing over with pleasure. "God.. I want you.. need to feel you around me, sweetheart.."

You sense now that you have the power. Slowly you run your hands over his rigid cock, swiping your thumb across the tip, wiping away a bead of moisture. "Is it going to fit?" you ask, feeling the heft of it, both length and girth.

A guttural groan rumbles from his chest and his head bows down to bury his face against your neck. "It'll fit, sugar, I promise. Just take your time."

Your heart skips a beat. This is the ultimate thing that can bring you together, and will forever change what you mean to each other. "I'm ready for you.."

Joel's hands gently grip your thighs, guiding you to move and open further as he positions himself between your legs, the head of his cock resting against your entrance. His heart pounds as he looks down at you. "You sure, darlin'? I promise I'll go slow."

"I'm sure. I've never been more sure of anything in my life."

"Okay, just tell me if you need me to stop. I don't wanna hurt you." He presses to you a little more, eager to fill you but waiting on your word.

"Kiss me," you whisper.

He pours all his love and need into the kiss, swallowing your gasp as he presses forward, his thick cockhead just barely breaching you, his groan joining with yours at the feel of your tight heat around him. You break the kiss, resting your hands on his shoulders as he enters you, a little at a time. His fingers dig into your thighs, his expression a cross between pleasure and concern as he pauses, giving you a chance to adjust to him. "How is that, sweetheart? Am I hurtin' you at all?"

"Wait." You press your hands to his chest. "Wait a little bit," you pant, forcing yourself to relax around him in order to accommodate him.

Joel nods. "Take your time, sweetheart. I ain't goin' anywhere." He stills himself, using every inch of willpower in his possession, "Just breathe, darlin', you're doin' so good," he coos. "You feel so damn good... touch yourself, darlin'," he growls.

Your breath falters as you acquiesce, fingers flitting lightly over your distended clit, adding pressure, circling the cluster of nerve endings, making yourself wetter, letting him slide in a little bit more. Joel fights to maintain his control. "Fuck, you feel so good, so tight."

Despite his willingness to take it slow, your hormones are asking for something else. "Take what's yours," you whisper. "I want you to."

A deep groan rips loose from his chest at your words, the sound thick with need and desire, his control fraying at the thought of claiming you with a hard and deep thrust. "Take a deep breath, darlin'." He takes your hand, lacing your fingers together, his grip reassuring. "I love you, my sweet girl, my sunshine.." He pulls out slightly, his body tensing as he prepares, and his eyes lock with yours as he thrusts forward, hard and deep. You cry out in surprise and pain, which is little more than a brief shock before you become acclimated, leaving you with a lingering dull throb.

"Hey, shh, it's okay, it's okay darlin', breathe for me. You did so good, you took me all, such a good girl," comes Joel's praise as he cups your cheek with one hand and stroking your belly, easing the pressure there from his length taking up room so deep inside you. When you inadvertently squeeze around him, stretching to fit him, it sends a shock of pleasure spiraling through him. "Damn.. if you keep squeezin' me like that I ain't gonna last long, darlin'," he warns. He takes a deep breath, slowly pulling out, savoring the drag of it, before slowly pushing back in, starting a gentle, deliberate rhythm. "You're perfect, sugar."

Soon the friction begins to cancel out the dull ache, more so with each thrust. "Feels good," you sigh.

Joel's eyes flutter closed, his rhythm remaining slow and gentle, the feel of you surrounding him, the feel of being buried inside your warmth as the most perfect sort of pleasure, his breath coming in short pants. "Sweetheart.. oh sweetheart.. oh god.. damn you feel so right, like you were made for me."

"You were right," you smile, "you do fit."

"Yeah darlin', I'm right where I'm meant to be, buried so deep inside my sweet girl." He keeps moving against you, spine tingling with delight as he feels you moving with him, naturally, your bodies in sync with one another. "Yes, just like that.. move with me, sweetheart."

Your brows furrow in pleasure, heart swelling at his praise. "Joel.. give me more.."

He groans, his eyes darkening as his pace quickens, hips rolling forward with a little more determination, the sounds of your flesh slapping together filling the air. "Like this, sugar?"

"Yes! Fuck!" you groan, lightning filling your veins as you move quicker together. Your words shoot straight to his soul, heat pooling and coiling in his gut. "God, Joel, I'm so close!" you whimper. His breath comes in sharp pants as he drives you closer to the edge, his rhythm growing rougher, less controlled. "Me too, sugar. I'm right there with you.. wanna feel you come around me, wanna hear you say my name. Say it, darlin', come for me and say my name."

"God!!" Eyes scrunched tight you let go, coming hard as your cunt clenches around him, fluttering hard and fast. "Oh!! Joel!!" you scream. Joel's pushed over the edge, giving a few jerky thrusts before you feel him twitching and pulsing inside you, filling you with his cum, his thighs shaking from the force of his pleasure. "Oh, fuuuucckk," he groans, burying his face in the crook of your neck, chest rising and falling with ragged breaths, heart pounding wildly.

You feel his heart racing next to yours, almost as if beating with the same cadence, both of you trembling, spent, satisfied. He raises himself on his arms to look down at you. "You're so damn gorgeous, you know that? Especially when you're all breathless and flushed, still quakin' from comin' so hard."

Despite the breathtaking passion you'd just shared, you still blush. "Came hard thanks to you," you give him a soft kiss.

Joel grins, a cocky, proud smirk tugging at his lips, feeling a warm glow in his chest. He gently brushes back a strand of your hair. "How you feelin', sugar?"

"A little sore," you admit. "But I think, considering what we're working with, a little pressure was to be expected," you smirk, still feeling him inside you.

He chuckles, the sound of it making your heart thrum, as he slowly pulls out, knowing your still sensitive. "You took me like a goddamn champ, sweetheart."

You whimper at the loss of him, feeling his cum dribble out of you, and your eyes light up at his praise. "Really?"

"Really." He gazes down at you, his eyes a mixture of speculation and resourcefulness. "You wanna come with me to New Mexico, darlin'?"

[instantcoughy]

౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ Cherry’s Cevans Series Rec List

thought i’d make a list of all the best cevans (characters) series i have read!! i have lots more to add and will continue to update this list🫶🏻 i will also create a one shot fic rec list in the near future💖💘💞

Preying On You Tonight - @evansbby

“Steve is the cocky, brash and domineering alpha who makes your life at university a living hell every day. You’re the complete opposite - quiet, meek and reserved. You’re convinced Steve hates you, but what happens when he finds out you have a boyfriend? (a/b/o dynamics)”

Wicked Games - @evansbby

Ari is the campus fuckboy and you’re his little plaything. But he’s telling the truth when he says he’s going to make you his girlfriend soon, right?

What A World - @onsunnyside

S.H.I.E.L.D. had a lot of secrets, you just never expected one of them to be an actual person—a blue-eyed giant, wild manbeast at that. [tarzan!Steve Rogers x doctor!reader, nomad!steve, size difference]

Just Because I Won’t Die For You, Doesn’t Mean I Won’t Kill For You - @dbnightingale24

Lloyd Hansen is just another job for you. Your last job. However, when he decides that he wants to take you for a ride and have a good time, well...how’s a girl supposed to say no?

Closer To Heaven And Closer To You - @georgiapeach30513

When your boyfriend, Ransom wants to take a trip back home to the ranch to meet your family, you are unsure.  Knowing that a rodeo is in town could only mean your ex, Frank Adler, was most likely riding for eight seconds, still trying to beat his best friend, Steve Rogers.  All you wanted was a nice time, not old memories bothering your brain.

Just Like The Caged Bird - @georgiapeach30513

You are a widow who moves back to her husband's hometown after selling your in Georgia home.  Moving in above your brother in law's garage.  Sharing the space with his friend Bucky Barnes, but your other brother-in-law Andy causes problems, along with your overprotective brothers.

Pretty Petals - @darkficsyouneveraskedfor

You go on a self-improvement retreat, but not all is as it seems. (multi-character)

His Koala Bear - @kinanabinks

you and steve have been best friends since you were 5. for the longest time, he has wanted so much more from you. and it's getting harder for him to stop himself from taking it.

Belong Here - @angrythingstarlight

Steve has been looking for his perfect girl and suddenly there you are stuck in this dingy restaurant. You don't belong here, you belong with him.

Finding Home - @navybrat817

Steve finds a home with you. (lumberjack Au)

Their Doll - @kaiparker-avengerssmut

y/n Stark, all records of her non existent, and yet Hydra still find her. When she is kidnapped by a certain super-soldier and no one believes her, she finds herself searching for unexpected familiarity in her not-so-distant past.

No Better Than Beast’s - @lokislastlove

You’re an animal rights activist who sets out to put an end to animal testing… but it’s a risky mission. (Dark!Steve Rogers)

Doppelgänger - @boxofbonesfic

Your husband’s twin brother has always made you uncomfortable, and after two years of marriage, you finally find out why. (Dark!Ransom Drysdale + Dark!Lloyd Hansen)

Million Dollar Man - @chrisevansgoodgirl

your relationship with ransom and his insane family.

Brooklyn’s Sweetheart - @spacesnail3000

Bucky and Steve had always been meant to keep her safe and happy. As far as anyone else was concerned, that was their sole reason for being alive. Unfortunately, the things that kept her safe were not always the things that kept her happy. Lately, she was making it pretty damn hard for them to compromise.

Let It Snow - @spacesnail3000

She was his Omega, and Steve had a plan. She would love him. He knew she would.

Sweet Renegade - @cevansbrat0007

A new arrival in town leads to an unexpected complication in the form of a sexy as sin Bounty Hunter named Ari Levinson.

Evergreen, Evermore - @babyjakes

loving husbands jake and ari had always believed they were all each other could ever want or need. but one unusual summer, when their world is turned upside-down by an uncanny girl from down the street, they find that having someone to love, nurture, and care for together is the missing piece that finally completes their perfect family and lives.

A Huckleberry Is Nothing Without His Hummingbird - @dbnightingale24

Lloyd and Y/N have been amicably(ish) divorced for four years. However, when earth shattering trauma come their way, will they lean into what they truly want, or will the flames from past traumas still burn too bright?

Civil war- Brooklyn - @saiyanprincessswanie

Ten years ago the Readers world was turned upside down when her father was killed by Hydras Brock Rumlow. She believes the loves of her life Steve Rogers and James “Bucky” Barnes were also killed while trying to avenge her fathers death. Reader is now working for the FBI on a task force that is meant to take down Hydra. She volunteers to go undercover to take down Hydra. In doing so she not only puts herself in the cross hairs with Rumlow but she gets to meet the mystery men causing Hydra issues. Who are the Captain and Winter Soldier? What lengths will you go through to uncover the truth and seek revenge?

The Boston Brute - @time-for-a-lullaby

When you graduated from Northeastern University, you had your sights set on the West Coast. And then you were offered a position with the Boston Bruins Athletic Training Department. And then you met Chris. A 6′3″, ruggedly handsome hockey player dead set on making your life a living hell by pushing every button and getting on every nerve. Despite your obvious disdain for each other and the ‘No Fraternization’ clause in your employee contract, you’re drawn together in a passionate, fiery love affair that seems to burn everything in its wake. 

Planet Evans Universe - @astranva

In which Chris was a nervous mess when he met his A+ list celebrity crush, highest-paid, and the most iconic actress, you, at Vanity Fair’s 2014 after party. (Following the life of overprotective!dad!Chris x wife!actress!reader!)

Don’t Speak - @darkficsyouneveraskedfor

Reader is a reclusive loner who ventures down to the library on a simple mission. Her task is complicated by the man she meets there. (Dark!Andy Barber)

Cat and Mouse - @queen-of-the-avengers

You’re called the Vixen because you were HYDRA’s favorite creation. You’re very hard to catch, and once you are, it’s even harder to keep you.

Let’s Ride - @starryevermore

You’re a single mom and have just moved into a new town. You have no interest in looking for love, but the funny thing about love is, it waits for no one. (Biker!Ari Levinson)

Out Of The Darkness - @sunshinexsin

Sienna Jons has lived in Boston for three years now after graduating and is running her own salon in the city. With a small group of friends sticking by her side, she's content with her life. Enter Chris Evans, a known and feared mob boss in Boston’s underground crime world. Coming out of a long relationship ended in a bitter divorce, Chris isn’t looking for anything serious until Sienna crosses his path. Trying to win her over proves difficult for the man who seemingly has it all and Sienna is not willing to be with someone who causes such destruction in his own hometown. Sienna soon finds herself entangled in the crazy, violent world of the mob and struggles to find a way to either live with the hardened man Chris has always been or get away from him before her own life spirals out of control.

Murder He Wrote - @wiypt-writes

You’re sent by your asshole boss to do a review of a Celebrity Host Haunted Mansion, hosted by none-other than the arrogant, wild-eye browed actor Lucas Lee, but you’re worried you’ve missed the boat…that is, until at the last minute, an email arrives to say they can let you in on the last admission that night, which just happens to be Halloween. (Dark!Ransom Drysdale)

Poison Paradise - @the-iceni-bitch

Robert Pronge was sure he could settle for a fake domestic life as long as he could go on killing. Little did he know that you could give him everything he needed.

A Bun In The Oven - @witchywithwhiskey

the leaves are changing—green fading into golden yellow, burnt orange and radiant red—and the days are getting shorter and colder as autumn settles in. it's the perfect time of year for baked goods, fall foliage, book stores, and to curl up next to (and get under) our favorite man with a plan, steve rogers

Wilford’s Demands - @sweater-daddiesdumbdork

Wilford places you in Curtis’ care so he can impregnate you.

In The Balance - @goodgirlofglory

One unsuspecting evening, the stranger Steve Rogers appears bloodied and in need of aid at your doorstep. You immediately catch his eye, and he forces himself upon you within the hour. Several months of repeated visits from him results in your pregnancy, and the night you find out, Steve intereceps you on your way to an abortion clinic and kidnaps you to his mansion. Will you carry the child to term? Will you buckle under the pressure of capitivity? Will you escape the grasp Steve has on you, or will you submit to it and your own, conflicted desires?

Drowning Siren - @rogerswifesblog

The Avengers found an old abandoned HYDRA base, that had been cleared after HYDRAs existence had been exposed. At least they thought it was cleared. It was the biggest experimental lab they had ever seen, the closest base to the ocean, full with creatures-dead creatures. Some of them laid still on tables, stripped with metal cuffs, open and already rotting. It was an awful smell. But then they heard something beautiful. A melody, a beautiful voice singing unbelievably gentle sounds. Walking into the building full with ocean creatures, they had no idea their life was about to change.

Vampire Kings Religion - @marvelcriminalhoe

In a world where fantasy beings roam every corner, the humans are on the bottom. Looked at as weak and disgraceful. The vampires are the opposite. They rule the land, and all of the creatures that take part of it. the current ruler, King Steven, has ruled for more than 150 years, alone. After many nights, and long talks with his most trusted hands, he comes to the long awaited decision that he will finally, take a wife. All female creatures, are to be evaluated, so he can find his perfect match. Of course, no one expects for him to choose a human. Especially not one from the church. Especially not the daughter, of the leader, of the church. The same church that detests the mythical creatures, wishing for nothing more than for them to perish in fire. How could this union possibly end well?

Ride And Prejudice - @pagesoflauren

A take on Pride & Prejudice, certain circumstances in your life have led you to take refuge and work in a farm village, particularly on the ranch owned by Steve Rogers. He doesn’t take kindly to you, having bad perceptions about city folk. Your only reaction to that is the one you deem acceptable: get annoyed at every little thing he does whilst doing your best to annoy him and still keep your job.

Love On The Brain - @howardpotts

You’re just a student, living her normal daily life in New York. One night changes everything, without you even knowing. Steve Rogers slowly introduces you to his world full of money, drugs and voilence. But are you able to handle what he has to offer? (MobBoss!Steve Rogers)

Flamingo King - @onsunnyside

The sun is brutal this summer, especially in Flamingo Trailer Park, the land of big hearts and cheap tricks, you’ve been here for years unlike your “new” neighbour, Ari. He’s older, bigger, and intimidating, the local rockstar, and you, well, aren’t you just the sweetest girl in the whole damn city?

Make It A December To Remember - @imyourbratzdoll

AGE AND SIZE DIFFERENCE IS ADDED TO ALL! SANTA AND THE GRINCH ARE LARGER THAN THE READER! THE ELVES ARE THE SIZE OF HER PALM! (a chris evans xmas universe)

This Love Is Bad - @wildestdreamsblog

You were just trying to escape your past, and Ari was trying to chase his future.

Nowhere To Run - @sagechanoafterdark

On the last day that Steve spent in your small town before heading off to basic training for the army, he made sure it was one you wouldn’t ever forget. Years later when he appears in your town he seems like a changed man in more ways than one, but you’re ready to show him that you’ve never forgotten that day. (Dark!Steve Rogers+ Bucky Barnes)

Nice To Be Kneaded - @rogersideup

Almost every news station in the country was covering the chase for the missing superheroes post-raft-escape following the Civil War. Steve Rogers face had been plastered on the cover of every news paper, fliers stapled to street lamps, posted on bulletin boards in what felt like every coffee shop in the country. It had been just a few long months shy of a year, just long enough to grow out his hair and beard to make himself as unrecognizable as he could manage. Though he was still the poster boy of disorder within the states, he found himself in the scanty town of Greenwood in the house right next to yours.

Forever And Ever More - @syntheticavenger

Ransom Drysdale may be Boston’s most eligible Alpha who has his eyes set on you. With his inheritance hanging in the balance, he won’t take no for an answer, whether you like him or not.

Hackers Heart - @bakugousaysdie

steve rogers has always been america’s golden boy, leading earth’s mightiest heroes and serving his country. you have always been bad with boundaries, a little too curious, and an absolute disruption. you are an absolute menace,so it’s only right you fell in love with the most adored man in the country.

Arranged - @time-for-a-lullaby

Living in this life, you’ve never gotten to have much say in anything. What you wear, who you hang out with, and now, who you marry and you’re dreading your arranged marriage to the Italian mob boss, Chris Evans. Expecting to suffer through a life of abuse while being kept under lock and key, you’re pleasantly surprised when Chris is nothing like you expected. He’s the most feared man on the East Coast, only brought to his knees by one thing and one thing only. You.

[instantcoughy]

everybody loves my baby

an historical au | 1930's florist!reader x dilfgangster!rafe (minors dni)✶

tw: v!olence, sex

✶ gangster!rafe, who makes sure everyone knows that you're off limits. Whether it is by gently placing his hand on the back of your soft neck and slowly caressing it with his calloused knuckles, using one of his large fingers to softly trail down one of your arms while the both of you are sitting next to each other in a restaurant, putting his muscled arm around you like a mantle, giving you warmth and comfort, and even taking your hand in his to plant a kiss on the palm as he closes his eyes and sniffs to take in your scent without the care of what others might think of your intimacy. You were his and he was yours, and that was truly all that mattered.

✶ gangster!rafe, who would do anything to protect you. Literally. If anyone ever laid a hand on his pretty little florist, they'd have to go through him, and it certainly wouldn't end so jolly.

"You dared to touch my woman, hm. Well, not so confident now, are you."

he said in a low, menacing chuckle as he shook his head slowly, cornering the man before him in the lonely and dimly lit corridor behind the bar. He had gone to the washroom for just one minute- one minute without you in his plane on sight, and a man walked over to you and started complimenting you before giving you a rose. That wasn't the problem though. When you thanked him kindly and smelled the rose, he pulled his arm up to brush a strand out of your face. And so, he had to take the matter to his own hands.

"Now now, i'm sure you're a good fella and understand that it was just a minor misunderstanding!"

the man quickly said in a pleading tone, obvious fear in his wide eyes, which were easily comparable to a frightened doe's, before proceeding to pat Rafe's shoulder with one of his shaking hands- almost as if they were old friends. Rafe shook his hand away in a swift motion, as if he had just been touched by a rat who had come out off a trash can. He punched the man on his ribcafe after his fake of a charming smile vanished and turned into a dark frown as if he was no longer who he was before. His other hand reached to the other's mouth as the man made muffled yowls of pain. He, however, didn't even flinch once.

"You're damn lucky i'm a generous man, so make sure to take this as a lesson for the future, yes? to keep your hands to yourself? wouldn't want to cut all your fingers off and make a mess on my shirt."

he then smirked almost playfully, his expression once again changing in a matter of seconds before moving his hand up and shaking it, then putting it inside the pockets of his brown pants and using the other in order to adjust his white, high quality long-sleeved shirt. The man was now practically on the floor, whimpering as he crouched against the stone wall behind him as he shamefully covered his face with his shaking hands. It was truly an embarrassing sight. Once Rafe was finished, he turned his back and opened the back door to the bar, tilting his head to the side and staring at him one last time.

"If you'll excuse me, I have to get back to more important matters- the wonderful evening I was having with her before you, very rudly I might say, abruptly interfered."

✶ gangster!rafe, who likes giving you nicknames that represent your beauty such as 'dollface', 'peach', and his personal favorite, 'dandelion'. You absolutely adore them too- the way they always roll off his tongue so sweetly, like butter being spread on a slice of bread. He's a man who admires and cares for your body, your mind and very being as if you were a princess or a delicate porcelain vase with beautiful painted flowers.

"Look at you, m' pretty dandelion all dolled up for me." he murmurs as he carefully places his head over your shoulder, blue orbs looking into your eyes through the mirror of your bedroom while his hands found your waist and gently nestled around it. His lips were slightly curved upwards, making the hint of his smile shown to you. One of his fingers traced small circles on your waist, making you let out a small and flustered chuckle as you covered your mouth with one of your hands in a polite manner to hide it. You were wearing one of your newer dresses- a pretty light blue polka-dotted dress that perfectly hugged your figure. This, was one of the many dresses Rafe gifted you in the past two weeks. Your lips had red tint and your cheeks had a faint pink color on them- a little bit of makeup, but not too much. His eyes trailed down, all the way to the contour of your legs and to the white leathered heels you were wearing. in his eyes, you truly were a work of art- like a Renaissance painting that had come to life. Now, he was a man that firmly believed that actions spoke more than words, so as soon as his eyes met with yours once again, he planted sweet kisses on your neck alongside little nibbles. This, was his own way of letting you know that you looked absolutely stunning.

✶ gangster!rafe, who, despite having so much blood on his hands, is always careful with you and tries to avoid showing you his darker side as much as he can. Who doesn't want you to know all the sins he has done, all the people he had killed before, in fear of loosing you forever.

''Y'know how much I care about you, right kid?'' he asks after taking a long drag from his cigarette, voice almost a whisper as he's sitting on the sofa of your living room while you laid next to him, head resting on the armrest and legs over his lap while his free hand slowly massages one of your bare feet. He stared at you, blinking slowly. The sudden of a question made you open your once closed eyes and perk your head up to look up at him with an innocent, confused stare. ''Well, certainly. I always have.'' you replied softly, giving him a reassuring smile before it vanished as soon as it appeared. You sensed that something was wrong. After all, why else would he ask this? ''Why do you ask?'' you continued, now scanning the expression on his face, despite the fact that he was a very hard man to read. He swallowed, but maintained eye contact. ''Nothin'. Just wanted to let you know how much I love you all over again.'' He knew he shouldn't lie to you- that he should tell you the truth about where all his money comes from, how his family got as powerful as it is, what kind of person he actually is. But it was too dangerous. Luckily for him, he was a good liar, an actor- if you may call it that. He grabbed the foot he was massaging and placed it near his lips before he kissed each one of your fingers in a slow, sensual manner. This made you relax and soon enough, you were resting once again, breathing calmly as you felt safe in his presence.

✶ gangster!rafe, who tries to stop by the flower shop every single day to say hello. No matter how busy he was, how much trouble he had gotten himself into, what kind of business he was doing that day, he never forgot about you. Ever.

✶ gangster!rafe, who likes to take you back to where the both of you had first met every once in a while. The place, in question, is les deus magots.

✶ gangster!rafe, who might be rough between the sheets, but is as gentle as he can be afterwards and makes your comfort his prime priority.

you let out quiet mews as he pounded into you, you legs wrapped around his hips as your plush breasts jiggled up and down in rhythm with his thrusts. Your plump lips remained parted as you felt out of breath, feeling an intense flutter in your tummy that only got stronger as his movements picked up a speed. It felt so good- too good, in fact. You couldn't help but let out some tears that started to run down your cheeks, eyes closed shut as you listened to his grunts. The bed was shaking, making the crackling sound echo through the bedroom.

''There you go, shhh, you're okay.'' he whispers soothingly as he plants a soft kiss on the side of your cheek, both of you laying inside the warm bathtub. There were scented candles on the bathroom countertops, The lights on the pastel green walls turned off in order to enhance the ambiance of the room. Your muscles finally relaxed, and you felt yourself slowly start drifting into sleep while one of Rafe's hands massaged your shoulders. He seems content, blue eyes full of emotion as he looks down at you, hot breath against your neck and tiny droplets of water landing on your back from his wet and messy hair.

✶ gangster!rafe, who lets you spend his money on whatever you want, no matter what. All you have to do is ask, and he'll give you some cash- no questions asked.

✶ gangster!rafe, who loves the way your eyes brighten up whenever you're at the park and you find a pretty flower. Who later takes it from your little hands and places it on your hair.

✶ gangster!rafe, who gifted you a puppy one day as a surprise .

''So, I got you a little something.'' he tells you while he held in front of you a rather large red box with a big white bow around it between his arms. His tone was blunt, his expression the same as always, yet he was lightly tapping his foot against the wooden floor of your home. You were confused, to say the least, But of course- you accepted it, quickly taking it from his hands- perfectly manicured nails gripping it tightly. It was heavy- very heavy. ''Oh! I wonder what it could be!!'' you said almost in a lyrical shriek, excitement in your voice as you sat down on your sofa, legs crossed while you placed it right next to you. Suddenly, it moved, and your widening eyes drifted from the package to Rafe. ''No...no.. gosh, Rafe don't tell me it's what I think it is'' you murmured, placing your hands over your mouth. You were met with silence. Of course he didn't answer. Instead, he just tilted his head, almost as if he was attempting to hide the sly grin that was beginning to form on his lips. Not being able to control your excitement any longer, you carefully opened the box, taking the upper part away and revealing what was inside. You gasped, and your pretty shrieks of happiness filled the room. Rafe Cameron had gifted you a cocker spaniel puppy. A real puppy- not a plushie. ''Oh my goodness.. oh my goodness! oh wow- I have no words!'' you ran up to him and hugged him tightly- maybe a little too much. The puppy trotted towards the both of you and barked happily. ''Glad to be makin' you happy, peach'' he said before gently taking your chin in his hand to make you look up at him before kissing you on the lips.

✶ gangster!rafe, who wouldn't admit it out loud, but sometimes thinks that maybe.. you really are 'the one' for him...

✶ a/n : GUYS GUYS I DID IT!! I know this is a bit short, but tbh.. I might write more about gangster!rafe in the future :) if anyone wants to request something with him you can feel free to do so too. I tried to include a little smut, but eh.. this was my first ever fic (if you could even call this a fic) so it's probably a bit...meh. Either way, I'm glad I finally finished it, and I hope it was enjoyable to read!!

✶ creds : @amariisflossy for the gangster!rafe idea, @dollywons for the second header

@sinisternymphette 2024

[instantcoughy]

Until Death (Part 1)

Arranged Marriage AU: Dark!Husband!Rafe Cameron x Wife!Reader

Word Count: +1,524

Warning(s): +18, Non con, Non consensual photographing, Domestic Violence, Humiliation, Forced breeding, Unwanted orgasm.

Author's Note(s): I wrote this cause I really wanna get married and find someone to love me but I don’t think it’s possible so here’s a fic instead 🥲

You never would've imagined being married to the Kook king himself, Rafe Cameron. But here you were, almost a year in. From the beginning you felt like an outsider. Even in the new home that Ward had gifted you. It was decision made by both of your fathers. Ward wanted someone from a family he knew very well. Your fathers were childhood friends and trusted each other enough to make the right decision. Whether their children were willing to or not. An arranged marriage between a Kook and a Pogue. One of the first of its kind.

Ward needed an heir from his only son. It was about time Rafe learned some responsibility. Ward needed to find a family with no authority or power. So, what better decision than to contact an old friend from the cut? Ward managed to pull himself out of there, your father on the other hand, wasn't so lucky. However, by Mr. Cameron's gracious offer, your father had been given a position in his company. Ward would handle the paperwork, while your father handled construction and remodeling.

It was enough to get by, but not enough to get out of the cut. That's why your father made the brash decision. Ward didn't see a problem with the arrangement given your family had no name for themselves. To him, having a family with no name or status is better than being involved with a tarnished one. It would avoid any unwanted attention for the Cameron family.

All your father wants is to make sure his only child would be taken care of once he's gone. You've only met Rafe during family events/outings, and when you did meet, he'd always try to torment you. Other than that, most of time would be spent clinging to Sarah for protection.

You hadn't known about the arrangement until a week prior. You defiantly hadn't expected Rafe to get on one knee in front of everyone. Your engagement was a nightmare, Rafe had decided to ambush you during the Kook's annual midsummer event. A few months later you married into the Cameron family. The event being of the most lavish, expensive, and largest weddings in the history of the Outer Banks.

Rafe made the decision that your honeymoon would be spent ‘setting up home’. You bid your family and friends a farewell before leaving with your husband. It was awkward enough that he'd been drinking for most of the night. What was supposed to be a beautiful ceremony quickly became a frat party. It was awkward enough when Rafe (who'd been drinking most of the night) tried carrying you across the threshold of what was your new home. He stumbles a few times, almost dropping you on the front steps. All you wanted was to go to bed after a long and eventful day.

In a fit of rage you rush up the stairs and into the master bedroom. You hadn't even changed out of your wedding dress. Deciding that it would be done tomorrow, as would everything else. It was tiring, putting on an act in front of hundreds of people. You were relieved for it to be over with. Until the harsh turning of the doorknob catches your attention. In came a very intoxicated Rafe Cameron, stumbling in with his tie already undone.

His hair was a mess from wrestling his groomsman, his expensive cologne overtaken by the stench of alcohol. All you want now is to sleep after being anxiety ridden for the past few hours. But the shuffling on the end of the bed made your stomach churn. Maybe if you pretended to be asleep he would leave you be.

Rafe reaches down to brush the back of his hand on your cheek. He couldn't help but chuckle at his fiancee--no, his wife. You're his wife now and he couldn't believe it. He grins from cheek to cheek, hovering over to study your features. You could hear Rafe talking to himself, "You're even prettier up close..."

Rafe was fine with the wedding day being for his wife, but it was the wedding night that belonged to the husband. 

He gets on his knees, preparing to strike. He pulls you but the ankle, dragging you across the bedsheets. He locks his arms around your thighs to pull you in. It was futile trying to fight back. Rafe rips away at the fabric, revealing what was for his eyes only. He doesn't waste time getting to work, suckling, lapping, and teasing at your sex.

When he starts to dip his tongue inside that's when you crumble beneath him. Your thighs shake when coming undone. A gush of arousal splashes his face. Rafe doesn't stop there, instead he keeps going until you're brought to tears cumming for the second time. He retreats with a triumphant look on his face.  

"Hey...." he whispers followed by a harsh grip on your jaw that turns your attention back to him, "Hey," his voice boomed. He held you in place, looking you right in the eyes when he states, "Look at me," a small pause follows, "No one is coming through that door to save you," he readjusts his grip, digging his fingers into your jaw, "No one is coming through that door, we're the only ones here," leaning in, "And if they heard they wouldn't care, they know their place," before lifting your skirt up, "It's about time you did too," Rafe held his cock in one hand, his other held your hip in place. He pumps his shaft a few times before rubbing it against your slick. He moans, "Oh fuck...can't wait to stuff you with it..." Rafe dips his head into the crook of your neck, his lips find that sweet spot. He suckles until he's certain there would be bruising.  

"You can scream all you want, no one’s gonna stop me,” he presses his leaking tip against the small opening, pushing it in without hesitation, “Not you…” he just his hips, “Not our families,” thrusting his cock inside, “No one…” fastening his pace. He’d been waiting for this moment for a long, long time. You had no idea that Rafe had willingly entered this marriage.

Can’t you see? He’s been in love with you for as long as he can remember. Yet you kept denying him repeatedly. Now Rafe has everything he’s ever wanted. He’s inherited the Cameron family fortune, gained the trust of his father as well as yours, and now he has you.  

He doesn’t stop thrusting his hips back and forth. Reveling in the feeling of you squeezing his member. It was exactly how he’d fantasized about. No more having to spend late nights wondering what you would feel like. He has you right where he wants. Rafe pulls down your top, exposing both breasts. He nips and suckles at them until they’re nice and bruised. He takes pride in being able to do so. Rafe squeezes your mouth open before pressing his lips against them. He sucks your tongue into his mouth, swirling it around his. The taste of liquor makes you nauseous.  

This wasn’t how you wanted to end the night. In the end you never had a choice. Your entire life revolving around men in power. A lamb sent to be slaughter, given only the right to live. Even if it meant living for someone else. Rafe presses his sweaty forehead against yours. He snarls, "You're my wife until I fucking die, do you hear me? Until death," his teeth sink into the flesh of your shoulder, digging hard enough to break skin.

A howl escapes your body as pain shot through it. Rafe held you close to him until he finally reached his limit and finishes inside. A deep, guttural moan is muffled into the bite mark. For a moment the two of you stay together until finally Rafe draws back. He’s a panting mess. He could practically feel how slick you became. He lets out a satisfying huff of victory. Rafe had won.  

A part of him wants to remember the day he finally got to take you. Then it hits him, “Wait…don’t move,” rummaging through a cabinet. He retreats down the hall. You could hear him searching for something in the unopened boxes. He then returns to you with a Polaroid in hand. He straddles your waist, aiming the lens at you. Rafe smiles, “Something to remember this moment...” he aims it right in your face, “...our first time as husband and wife,” before clicking it.

You could only give a startled look as you stare back at him. Like a deer caught in headlights. Rafe inspects the photo of you. He whistles at the beautifully captured moment. There you were, staring back at him with smudged lipstick and running mascara. You only blink as he stood there, snapping pictures like it was some heartfelt moment. What was supposed to be the most important day of your life, ended in the worst way imaginable.

"Smile for me Mrs. Cameron..."

Rafe was fine with the conditions of inheritance. In order to stay in his father's will, he would have to settle down first. But if there's one thing Ward taught him, it's to negotiate. Rafe remembers striking the deal in his father's office. For the first time ever, the young Cameron man put his foot down,

"No," Rafe states,

Ward looks up at his son, "I'm sorry?"

"I'm not getting married, not unless it's her," he's dead serious too. Ward sighs, he leans back in his chair, "Do you really want to marry this girl?" questioning his son's authenticity. Rafe nods, "It's always been her,"

Ward understands now that his son's mind is made up. Not even he could stop it, "Rafe...you have to understand that her father is a very important member of my company..." he starts, "...he's a bit of a... traditionalist," he pushes himself off the desk, approaching his son, "He expects a certain price for her hand, that I’m not worried about…” he held Rafe's shoulder.

Ward looks his son dead in the eyes to show how serious this situation was to both of their families, “Do not fuck this up, you only get one shot and then you're done, do you hear me? Done," he expects an answer. Rafe looks him in the eyes, there’s a park of determination in the young Cameron man, “I won't,” sealing the deal. Ward picks up his phone and dials up your father’s number, "My friend, you're needed at the office, it's about time we discuss family matters,"

The best decision Rafe made was making you Mrs. Cameron.