#and can’t figure out that his boyfri- friend is upset with him

[jadepearl]

Hob refers to Dream as Morpheus when he’s upset with him. It takes Dream a while to realize that- Matthew on the other hand is laughing it up (“told ya he was upset boss”)

[loveharlow]

LIVE BAIT

PAIRING‧₊˚  Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader, Topper Thornton x Fem!Reader (one sided)

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚  [4.1k] Left alone with Topper while Rafe is out, his best friend seems to take a shot at you...

WARNING(S)‧₊˚  non-con/dub-con, smut, swearing, dark!rafe, gullible!reader, sexual coercion/manipulation, deception, cheating, yelling, manhandling, implied murder/attempted murder

A/N‧₊˚ part of my angstober event!

˗ˏˋ rafe masterlist ˎˊ˗

YOU SAT ON THE COUCH IN RAFE’S LIVING IN NOTHING BUT ONE OF HIS SHIRTS, WATCHING TV AS HE EMERGED FROM DOWN THE HALL. He had his phone and car keys in hand, the jingling of the metal causing your eyes to drift from the flashing of digital colors to him. 

“Are you leaving?” You inquired, leaning your weight on one arm as you sat up on the couch slightly.

“Yeah, something came up but it won’t take long.” You frowned as you watched his frame edge closer to the front door of The Cameron Residence, his hand on the doorknob as he turned around to look at your half-dressed figure on the sofa. “Go put some pants on. Topper’s still coming by.”

You wanted to groan at his statement. “Can’t he hang out with Kelce? He always want to hang with you. Doesn't he have other friends?”

“He’s still upset about Sarah leaving him and he thinks she’ll pop up around the house. Look just, don’t say anything about her around him. Alright?”

You huffed and rolled your eyes, mumbling something about Topper being annoying before turning away from him to face the TV once again, fully prepared to hear the slam of the front door signaling his absence. You never heard that confirmation, however. Instead, you were met with the feeling of Rafe’s calloused hand on your jaw just before you registered his quick footsteps, the man using his firm grip to tilt your head back where you were greeted with the sight of him staring you down.

“Drop the attitude. If I have to put up with you, you have to put up with him. So fix your damn face and be nice.” He told you sternly and in a hushed tone before releasing his grip and allowing your face to drop, the strain on your neck easing itself out. You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to ignore the way his words stung in the slightest of ways. You could hear his heavy steps following their path back to the front door, the alarm system chiming and hinges creaking as he opened the door. “And I’m serious, go put some pants on.” Was all he said before you heard the slam of the front door.

NOT EVEN THIRTY MINUTES HAD PASSED SINCE RAFE LEFT. You’d resistantly done as he said, going into his bedroom and finding a pair of shorts you’d left here and tugging them on, despite them being swallowed by his shirt anyway, barely able to tell you were wearing them.

You were on the sofa again, laying on your back as you scrolled through your phone when suddenly, you heard the lock on the front door being twisted, mechanisms clanking against each other and echoing out in the expanse of the room. Head twisting towards the noise, a stream of sunlight welcomed itself in as Topper walked into the home, carefully closing the door behind himself. 

Turning around, he was visibly startled by your face peeking above the back of the couch. “Oh, hey.” He breathed out, realizing it was just you. “I forgot Rafe said you’d be here, too." He spoke absentmindedly. "Where is he, by the way?” He questioned, walking around to stand in front of your outstretched frame.

You politely slid your feet off of the length of the furniture, clearing a space for him to sit next to you. You were both on two opposite ends of the couch and you didn’t miss the way he eyed the length of your exposed legs, tongue coming out to lick the corner of his mouth. 

“He had to do something, said he’d be back soon.” You responded back, mainly giving your attention to your phone as you leaned against the arm of the couch and tried not to look at him. It was mildly awkward in the space — seeing as you’d only ever really interacted with Topper when your boyfriend was around and now that it was just you two, there was a tension that clouded the room. Rafe always served as an icebreaker and he wasn't here to break the ice.

Topper hummed in response. Eventually, you turned off your phone, diverting your attention to the TV and that was when you noticed it — Topper’s eyes fleeting to you every couple of seconds in your peripheral. Your legs were curled up underneath you and his eyes roamed your figure, up and down with little shame. This went on for a couple minutes until he spoke up.

“When did you say Rafe would be back again?”

Your wide eyes drifted to the blonde on the far end of the couch, nervously going between him and the program that was playing low in the background. “Oh, um, I didn’t. But he should be back soon.” 

Only then did you notice Rafe had been gone for a fair amount of time. But it wasn’t anything new. Knowing him he could be back within the next five minutes or five hours, not a care in the world that you were stuck in the house with his best friend who wouldn't stop staring at you. Was there something on on your shirt? Did he want to say something?

“You know, he might be helping his dad. I heard something happened to one of the construction sites. A roof collapsed or something.” He told you, sitting up straighter. “...That could take a while.”

“Oh.” You said apprehensively. “If that’s the case then yeah, he might be a while. I can go to his room so you can have this space to yourself-”

“No, no,” Topper interrupted, dragging himself closer to you across the couch, now only inches away. Your back ached as you pressed yourself against the armrest, his sudden close proximity startling you. “I don't mind. We can keep each other company.” He spoke lowly, eyes boring into yours. One of his hands came up to caress your thigh, his fingers gliding across the flesh as your heart thumped in your chest. You didn't feel comfortable with that.

“It’s just that, I’ve been having a really hard time getting my mind off of Sarah, y’know? I could use the company.” 

“I heard about that…” You mumbled.

The boy scoffed. “The whole island has. She really embarrassed me and it’s just been hard trying to act like I’m okay.” His eyes were on your lips now, eyeing them as he spoke. “But I think you could help distract me…”

You suddenly felt uneasy but also somewhat bad for him. As much as she had the rights to, Sarah had embarrassed Topper to quite the extreme. Not only did she dump him, but she was now dating a pogue who demeaned him at every given chance. It was a rivalry, of course. So, you couldn’t imagine his anger.

“Distract you…how?” Was the first thing that rolled off your tongue, the hand that was kneading your thigh coming up to gently grab your wrist. 

“You could start by solving the problem you’ve created,” He said enigmatically, dragging your limp palm to rest against the crotch of his pants where you could feel a prominent erection poking through the fabric. The action set off alarm bells in your mind, quickly tugging your hand away and pushing yourself further up the couch.

Shaking your head side to side, you spoke a mile a minute. “I think I gave you the wrong idea. I didn't- I don’t think Rafe would be okay with this-”

“He is.” Topper blurted, cheeks turning red.

“...He is?”

“He would be. I’m his best friend, right? You gotta trust me, I know him better than anyone. Plus, he would be proud of you for helping out his friend. I know he would.” The boy explained. 

Topper wasn’t a fool but he knew that you could be. Not a fool necessarily...gullible would be a better phrase. To some people, you seemed bimbo-ish — a pretty face with not a clear thought behind your eyes. He always thought that was why it was so easy for Rafe to walk you the way he did. Rafe had you wrapped around his finger and there was no doubt that he loved you, though it may not always seem evident. 

Topper had always thought you were desirable and secretly admired the way you absentmindedly submitted to Rafe without hesitation, he didn’t know whether it was out of fear or love, or both. All he knew was that look that you got in your eyes whenever Rafe was around, that pleading, doe-eyed look you sported in the presence of your boyfriend was something he’d wanted to see up close and personal for a long time now. You were a craving, a sexual fantasy that Topper could never have. Not until now, anyway.

And if he had to spew a couple little white lies to get you to spread your legs, then he was going to do whatever it took. And Rafe would never have to know. Because he wanted you more than he feared Rafe.

“You really think so?” You questioned the validity of Topper’s claims, the only thing on your mind was the reward you’d possibly receive for helping your boyfriend’s best friend feel just a little bit better in the face of heartbreak.

“I know so. In fact, Rafe...actually suggested it.”

That statement made your gut twist. You didn’t know why, but it just did. It didn't sound like something Rafe would do, but Topper said he knew Rafe better than anyone. You guessed that included you.

“Well, if it’s okay with him then…”

The blonde smiled at this, his hands moving your waist and prying your frame off of the edge of the couch, practically yanking you into his lap. His blue eyes running between your pupils and your lips before he crashed his mouth against yours, wasting no time in slipping his tongue between them. You yelped into the exchange, the frantic neediness of it all catching you off guard.

You maneuvered your legs into a more comfortable position, now straddling his lap as his boner pressed directly against your core through the thin fabric of your shorts. You didn’t know how to respond to any of this — he was so much different from Rafe. You were used to the way Rafe loved you — the firmness in the way he kissed you, the small grunts he would let out in between each one, how he would eventually trail his kisses down the valley of your neck, the valley of your breasts, down your stomach.

Why didn’t he give Topper any kind of pointers when he suggested this? Probably because this is more for Topper than it is for you, you thought. This wasn’t for you at all, actually. You were a distraction. Or so you’d been told.

His tongue roamed the inside of your mouth, the warm muscle circling as it waited for your own to do the same. You tried to focus on pressing your lips against his with the same pressure, but you could never seem to catch whatever wavelength he was on. Eventually, he pulled back, his lips red, wet, and swollen. 

Your eyes tried to catch his but they were laser focused on your collarbone that was peeking out above Rafe’s shirt. His hands balled into fists, balling up the fabric that you wore into them and pulling it over your head and dropping the garment to the floor, leaving the ‘v’ of your breast exposed to him. The bra you had on pushing them up, making them look plump. You didn’t miss how Topper bit his lip as one of his hands came up to fondle one of the rounds of flesh, his hips bucking up into you as he did so. 

His hands circled your back, coming into contact with the clasp of your bra, ready to undo the item and let it fall until he seemingly decided against it, mumbling something about not wanting to make too much of a mess.

He was much more silent than Rafe. Rafe was not one to keep quiet during intimacy, always groaning, or swearing, and whispering something so dirty into your ear that you couldn’t help but moan out loud, arching into him.

The boy stood up with you on his lap, holding you up by your behind as to not drop you. With you in his arms, he turned as he stood up, gently laying you on the couch on your back. He wasted little time in dragging your shorts and underwear down your legs together, leaving you exposed and on display for him, a cool breeze passing between your legs.

“Shit…” Topper cursed under his breath as his eyes were glued to your dripping core. You were slightly confused when his hands immediately went to the button on his pants, undoing the closure and shoving the clothing down his legs, the fabric pooling around one of his ankles as he didn’t even bother to completely remove them.

He propped one leg up on the couch, the other planted on the floor as he pulled you closer by the hips. Using one of his hands, he guided the tip of his cock that was leaking with precum to your entrance. He teased himself before actually pushing it in, rubbing the head of it against the wetness that was dripping from you and onto the sofa, surely leaving a wet patch beneath you. Gliding it up and down, stopping to circle your clit before eventually pushing into you.

You let out a soft gasp, feeling a slight throb of pain as he stretched you out. You watched the boy carefully above you, one of his hands now outstretched as it gripped onto the armrest behind your head, eyes rolling back as his hips stuttered when his dick hit your cervix.

The intrusion didn’t feel bad but it didn’t feel great either. You didn’t know if it was because this was a foreign thing or because he just wasn’t Rafe.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to get you like this…” He muttered, almost mindlessly, under his breath. Eyes clouded over with pleasure as he drew his hips back slowly, only to push back in at an equally slow pace.

The statement threw you, prompting you to question his real motives but Topper was a genuine person, right? And he wouldn’t lie to you for no reason, especially not for his own gain…

Right?

He told you that you were just helping him take his mind off of Sarah, that this wasn’t wrong. So, you were taking his word for it. More than his word, actually. Topper wasn’t just Rafe’s friend, he was yours too, wasn’t he?

Topper’s slow pace wasn’t something you were fond of, you quickly realized. Your orgasm not even beginning to build but you kept quiet. This was to help him, not you. He was breaking out into a light sweat despite his slow momentum, biting harshly into his lips concealing any noise he may have made, veins protruding from his biceps as his grip on the headrest grew deathly.

It wasn’t long before he came, not bothering to pull out as he did so, letting his seed fill you up, some of it hitting the inside of your thighs as he pulled out. When he seemed to have emptied himself out, he barely acknowledged you as he retreated away, standing fully from the furniture as he shuffled his pants back up his legs. 

His breathing was shallow and his face was flushed, he didn’t even bother to clasp the button on his pants back together before he was making his way down the hall, presumably to the guest bathroom to get himself together.

You steadied your own breaths, labored from the unfamiliar experience rather than exhaustion or pleasure. Carefully, you sat up straight on the couch, shimmying your panties and shorts back onto both of your legs and dragging them back up to your waist, trying to ignore the way the fabric smeared his cum against your thighs. Topper’s secretion was still dripping out of you, making the fabric against your center uncomfortable — hot, sticky, and scratchy.

Fishing around on the floor, you retrieve Rafe’s shirt that had been abandoned in the beginning, slipping the loose fabric back over the length of your body.

Assuming Topper had gotten what he needed and your job here was done, you headed upstairs, prepared to shower in Rafe’s room.

You tried to ignore that feeling in your gut that had been bubbling since Topper put his hand on your thigh. You just couldn’t put your finger on why you felt so bad about doing a good thing.

BY THE TIME RAFE HAD RETURNED, TWO HOURS HAD PASSED. You’d cleaned yourself up, just throwing on another one of Rafe’s old graphic tees and a pair of sweatpants. When you’d returned downstairs after your shower, Topper was sitting comfortably on the piece of furniture as if nothing had happened. However, when you went to sit down, he’d tried to beckon you over to lay under his arm. You’d politely declined. 

So, you both sat in silence once again. Topper put on a movie to watch while you went right back to scrolling on your phone, getting a text from Rafe about an hour into the movie that he was on his way back.

When he’d finally gotten back, you couldn’t ignore the way it felt like a weight was lifted off of your chest, shooting your boyfriend a giddy smile as he shut the door behind him.

“Rafe!” You practically cheered, hopping off of the couch and skipping over to where he was kicking his shoes off at the door. 

“Hey, I’m sorry that took so long…” He apologized mindlessly, eyes finally landing on you. “I’m glad you’re in a better mood.” He spoke, squinting his eyes with mild suspicion. His gaze drifted to Topper’s figure draped over the far end of the couch, jutting his head in his direction in greeting. “‘Sup, Top.”

“What’s good?” Topper replied nervously, not even able to maintain full eye contact with his friend. Rafe found it weird, making a face of confusion before ultimately letting it go. His eyes shifted back to where you stood in front of him, winding his arms around your waist, similar to how Topper had just hours ago.

Only Rafe’s touch was familiar — more comforting. The dirty blonde leaned down to press his lips against yours, kissing you lovingly for a few moments before pulling back as his eyes looked you up and down. His hands never left your waist as he walked you backwards towards the sofa. “Did you change?”

You glanced down at yourself, forgetting that you probably looked different than you did when he walked out of the door hours ago. You opened your mouth to reply honestly. You didn’t think what had gone down between you and Topper was some top-notch secret. After all, he said Rafe had suggested it. “Um, yeah. I just wanted to clean myself up after helping Topper out.”

Rafe’s face twisted at the statement. It’s not like it was an odd thing but he just had no idea what had happened while he was gone. “What happened?”

Now it was your face that was twisting, confused at his words. You opened your mouth to reply before Topper beat you to it, neck craned dangerously over the back of the couch as he spoke. “Oh, it was nothing, man. She was just being nice and getting me something to drink and spilled it on herself.”

Rafe seemed to take the answer at face value, not pressing any further as he guided you both to sit on the couch before he stopped in his tracks, hands letting go off you to rub at a dark spot on the fabric of the furniture that wasn’t there before he left. 

“Did you spill whatever it was on the couch?” He questioned irritatedly, rubbing and scratching that patch that wouldn’t budge. 

Neither you nor Topper responded as Rafe huffed, making his way towards the kitchen to retrieve something to try and scrub the stain out before Rose, the clean-freak she was, got on him about it. Standing over the sink however, he took notice of something — there were no glasses in the sink. In fact, the kitchen looked untouched from when it had been cleaned yesterday.

If you’d gotten Topper something to drink, where’d you pour it? Into the palm of his hands?

Rafe’s gaze rose to look at the blonde who was lounging on his couch and he’d looked up just in time to see his best friend’s gaze trail up the length of your frame hungrily. 

The action made a thought appear in his mind, a crazy thought. Rafe wasn’t as naive as you, he saw the way his friends looked at you and heard the way they tried to speak to you when they thought he couldn’t hear. He didn’t expect any of them to act on their whims unless they intended to lose their lives.

He hadn’t even noticed your presence beside him until he felt your fingers on the skin of his shoulder through his shirt, shifting his gaze towards you who was peering up at him. 

“Are you okay?”

The man’s eyes narrowed at you in the slightest, moving so that your faces were inches apart and he spoke in a hushed tone.

“The fuck did you do?” He questioned, tone short and mean. The look in his eyes had you scared and confused.

“I didn’t do anything.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not-”

“So, nothing happened while I was gone?”

Your next response wasn’t as quick, mouth opening for a few seconds, eye fleeting between the two blondes before you answered. “All I did was help Topper out because he was sad about Sarah. He said you’d be okay with it, that you’d suggested it even-”

“Suggested wh- what the fuck are you talking about?” Rafe’s face was twisted, tone scolding as if he was upset with a child.

“I don’t know, he just started touching me and saying all this stuff-”

You were cut off when the irritated blonde grabbed you by the arms, slightly shaking you. “Tell me what happened.” He spoke menacingly. “All of it.”

You tripped over your words before you got them out, the blonde boy on the couch paying no attention to you and Rafe as you explained how he’d coerced you into sex only hours before Rafe came back. Rafe listened intently as you told him about his best friend came into his house, sat on his couch, and fucked his girlfriend. And he couldn’t believe that he was still breathing. Couldn’t believe that he sat, laid back on his couch like nothing had happened.

Topper was always telling Rafe how you were just a pretty face and had nothing going on up top. Rafe usually told him off, not allowing him to demean you. He’d never thought his words had any deeper meaning.

“...And I showered after. Rafe, I didn’t think-”

“Yeah, you never think. That’s your problem.” He snapped under his breath, snatching himself away from you.

He knew you weren’t the brightest when it came to reading people. You weren’t an idiot or anything. You did well in school, you were academically gifted. But for some reason, when it came to socializing, you just weren’t there. You never caught on to sarcastic jokes, you didn’t know when people were flirting with you or using you. You were oblivious in that sense.

So when he looked back to see you with your head lowered, looking more shameful and upset than he’d ever seen you, he couldn’t help but sigh, using one hand to pull your head into his chest.

“I didn’t mean that, okay? It’s not your fault.” He felt your arms wind around his waist as your face buried into his shirt.

“I didn’t know. It felt wrong but he said you were okay with it. I’m sorry, I’m really sorry-”

“Shh, stop. I know, I know,” He cooed, pressing his lips to the top of your head. “Why don’t you go upstairs? Hm?” He pulled back, looking into your tearful eyes as you nodded, releasing your hold on one another before you made your way up the staircase, sparing a solemn look to Rafe before you disappeared.

Rafe eyed Topper who looked like he was struggling to ignore Rafe’s gaze burning into the side of his head. He didn’t know if he’d heard any part of your conversation but he could tell that the boy looked tense.

“Yo, Top?” Rafe called, back now turned as he inspected the kitchenware, eyes landing on the knife block before pulling out the chef’s knife. The object was swinging at his side as he turned back to face his friend. 

“Yeah?” He replied, letting his gaze find the man standing in the kitchen. Topper looked nervous, a bead of sweat on his hairline.

“I hope it was worth it.” He snapped at him. "'Cause I'm going to fucking kill you."

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©loveharlow