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propheticbride · 4 months ago

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Down on Your Knees Before the King

𐙚 Rafe Cameron has everything he could ever ask for; rich parents who do whatever he wants, an entire community under his thumb, an expensive car, freedom to do whatever he wants, whenever he wants, and he's about to be crowned King of Midsummers. The only problem? You aren't being crowned his Queen. But that's okay. Rafe has a plan for everything.

𐙚 Dark!Rafe Cameron x Reader (tw: blood, murder, rafe is insane... 'coked up rage monster', noncon, unconsenting fingering)

(A/N: inspired by this gem)

Rafe had everything he could ever want in life. His father owned a successful construction company that had never been doing better, his step-mother a well beloved philanthropist. His sisters, determined to stay out of his way. And because his parents and sisters all traveled a lot, Rafe was able to do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted.

It also helped being the big man around figure eight, everyone either feared him, or worshiped the ground he walked on. Both he was most content with.

Midsummers was coming up in a few weeks, and he obviously had King in the bag. The only real issue was you.

You and Topper had just begun dating only months ago. It started off by you falling after rushing back to your friend’s table at the country club. Rafe had laughed, along with some of the other guys.

But Topper had rushed over to you and made sure you were okay. And ever since then you've been hand in hand.

It disgusted Rafe.

Until one night, that is.

It was a grimey frat party in the next town over, Rafe got invited and was allowed to bring others. But when he invited Topper, he didn't expect him to bring you.

It wasn't until Rafe had found himself at the end of a cruel prank by someone he considered at least a friend, the person who had invited him.

Rafe excused himself to the bathroom, his pride already hurt, not wanting to lose his reputation.

As Rafe stared down the white substance aligned on the handheld mirror, you had accidentally stumbled in, a little drunk and immediately you gasped.

“Get the fuck out!” he demanded.

You stand there for a few lingering seconds before you shut the door and locked it.

“Are you okay?” you hiccuped, squatting so your eye to eye with him.

Rafe’s eyes darked and pressed his forehead to yours. “Get the fuck out.”

“No. You're upset.” you shook your head. “When my mother was alive-” hiccup “-she'd stay with me til I was better.”

“Won't Topper be missing you?” he pulled back and said, voice laced with venom.

“He's…busy.” you murmured.

Rafe knew Topper was seeing Sarah behind your back. But you simply pretended he wasn't. You were so scared of being alone, Rafe had gathered.

“I'm here for you. I always thought of us as friends.” you sat down, rather clumsily and rested your head on his lap.

Rafe didn't know what to do. He froze.

“You're so nice…Rafey.” you slurred. You looked up to him. “What happened to you? Why are you upset?”

“People are assholes.” Rafe said softly, putting his hand gently on your head.

“M’sorry.”

You had fallen asleep, and he had to carry you out. When he had gone inside to retrieve Topper, he found him with his dick deep inside one of your best friends.

Rafe had driven you to his house, laid you down on his bed and covered you with a blanket.

As he sat at the end of it, he thought over all of the reasons he hated you. He had come up empty however. Then he began to think of all of the times Topper had openly cheated on you, and his fists clenched.

You weren't the bad guy, Topper was. You were…you were an angel. His angel.

He looked over at you, and his dick became immediately hard. The way he laid you down, caused your skirt to come up only slightly, where he had been able to see your panties.

You were his now, so touching you wouldn't be wrong…right?

He slid his hand up your leg and you sighed softly.

“Shhhh.” he whispered, “You're such a good girl aren't you, fuck Topper.”

Rafe pressed his fingers against your clothed cunt and rubbed hard. You whined and grinded down in your sleep, sweat already making the hair to your forehead stick.

“All for me right?” Rafe smiled. He licked his lips and began to lick down your neck. He humped the bed beneath him slightly, everything was just too much for him in the moment.

Even if you're not conscious, it's better than he could've imagined.

Despite you being fast asleep, Rafe didn't let up, finally pulling your panties down and shoving his whole face to your cunt. He lapped like it was his last meal, letting his nose rub against your clit. His hands gripped your thighs with an iron hold, there will be bruising tomorrow, something you wouldn't be able to explain.

When you came, you finished hard and whimpered in your sleep. Rafe spent the next 5 minutes lapping your juices up.

After he sat up, Rafe had decided you were his. Topper can go fuck himself.

After that night, Rafe slowly got you to himself. He turned your friends against you, even your parents began to question the daughter they had raised. Rafe had gotten your last friend to somehow convince you that Topper had assaulted you when you found yourself bruised. All the while planning for midsummers, but what you didn't know, is you would be crowned his queen.

God he loved you. You would be together in the end.

Or so he thought.

The night of midsummers was supposed to be you and him. But miraculously, Topper was able to convince you that he hadn't even been with you the night you were 'assaulted', those bruises not from him. So you decided you'd have a good night, and then dump Topper after. You deserved one good night, after all and this was an important event.

But Rafe didn't see it that way.

Rafe stared into the mirror, his eyes wide and dark black bags hanging from them. See, some boys are rational, but Rafe was not. He stares into the mirror, thinking only one single thought. There's at least seven fucking reasons his crown isn't as good as got, so as he stares into the mirrors, thus went his plot.

You had been knocked out, something slamming you into the bathroom mirror before everything went dark. Your eyes slowly open, pain shooting through your entire face.

“I’d like to thank everyone who voted for us-”

Your vision is blurry, you try to move but your limbs are still throbbing in pain. Something weighing on your head. You use all of your strength to raise your hand and touch it. It feels like a crown. A tiara.

“I could never truly ask for a better queen.”

You slowly look over to the voice. Despite being blurry, you can see the red covering his beautiful blue suit. He has the other crown on his head and he's talking to an invisible audience.

“Rafey.” you whisper. Your voice is hoarse, and there's liquid leaking from the corner. It tastes salty.

“My queen!” Rafe exclaims. “You're awake. Isn't this just great baby?”

You look at him, your vision clear enough to see his deranged face. You attempt to stand, before Rafe roughly pushes you back onto the floor. You fall back with a sharp thud and your crown falls into a nearby pool of blood. When you look at it, all you can do is let out a bloodcurdling scream that is definitely going to take your voice tomorrow.

Topper lays in the pool of his own blood, his drained eyes looking at you. A knife still sticking into his heart.

“Down on your knees before the king!” Rafe screams. Then he turns back to his adoring invisible crowd and takes a bow.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #dark!rafe cameron #like he is sick and twisted #outer banks smut #dark!rafe cameron x reader #hi im peeing

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unfinishedslurs · 6 months ago

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The boy stops in his tracks. “I know you,” he says, tilting his head curiously. He’s not tall, but he’s regal nonetheless, dressed all in white. Something about him makes Leia’s hair stand on end, and although she hides it she feels a stirring in her own chest. I know you like I know my own soul, she thinks wildly, and wonders where it came from. Has she gone insane?

“That’s nice,” she says, and shoots him anyway.

He deflects it in a flash of light, a glowing blue laser sword appearing in his hand like magic. She’s only seen one of those before, and it’s Vader’s. If this boy is anything like Vader, she realizes, she’s in deep shit.

She’s smart enough to know when she’s outmatched. Leia makes the tactical decision to run for her life.

Later, as she’s getting the hell out of there, she wonders why he didn’t try to stop her.

She remembers being young and tugging on her mothers skirts, demanding to know why their guest was so sad. “Does he not like it here?” She’d asked, and then, trembling, because Kenobi always seemed saddest around her. “Is it…because of me?”

“Oh, Leia,” her mother sighed, lifting her into her arms. “It’s not that, I promise.”

“Then what is it?”

“Master Kenobi lost a child under his care, years ago.” Breha’s eyes grew deeper, darker. “It was not his fault, but he blames himself. You remind him of that child, that’s all.”

Leia had quieted at that, contemplative.

The next time she’d seen Master Kenobi, she had given him a hug. He didn’t seem to know what to do with that, so she resolved to give him more of them. “He’s lonely,” she’d told her mother. “No one should be lonely.”

Looking at Obi-Wan Kenobi now, the memory seemed so far away. He’d aged thirty years in the ten it had been.

He looks, Leia thinks with a small twinge of regret, very lonely.

“Leia,” he greets. “It’s been a long time.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Leia sees a glint of white.

Kenobi freezes in his tracks. “Luke?” He whispers, and through the distance Leia can hear it as if he’d been speaking directly into her ear.

Master Kenobi lost a child under his care, her mother whispers in her head. He blames himself.

In an instant, Leia understands everything.

Kenobi is still staring at the boy he’d lost so long ago when Vader cuts him down.

Later, as she’s pacing around on the Falcon to Han muttering darkly about Princesses and supernatural abilities, she rememberers the way the boy collapsed, as if all his strings had been cut. Vader was too occupied with him to even look at her as she shot at him desperately.

Luke. She hates him more than she hates herself.

“They know where you are,” he hisses frantically. “They’re coming for you. You have to run.”

“Wait!” Leia quickly pulls up their sonar. Nothing yet, but it would explain the distant queasiness she’d felt since they’d landed. She tended to trust her gut. “How do you know? How much time do we have?”

“Not important, and not enough,” he says. “I have to go, and so do you. You need to leave yesterday.”

“How do I know I can trust you? I don’t even know who you are.”

He pauses. “Call me Skywalker.”

“That’s not an answer, Skywalker.”

“Yes it is.”

She opens her mouth to argue, but there are faint voices on the other end, drawing nearer.

“Shit,” Skywalker mutters. “I have to go. I’ll be in contact, okay? Don’t ever tell me where you are, or where you’re heading. Vader and Palpatine aren’t shy about reading minds. Just leave as soon as you can, and figure out the rest.”

“But—“

It’s too late. The comm has disconnected.

She stares down at it, disbelieving. How would the Empire know they’re here? Why should she trust a stranger who somehow got her personal comm code?

Gut feeling or not, on paper this was a perfect location. Supplied, armored, and most importantly, extremely well hidden. There was no real reason to think it would possibly be found out.

It’s probably a trap. Almost definitely a trap.

Han sticks his head in the door, a sour look on his face. “Hey Princess, can you tell these idiots—“

She makes a decision then and there.

“We’re leaving.”

“What?”

“We’re evacuating, effective immediately.” She pushes past him, and he follows so close he’s nearly stepping on her heel.

“Why? I think it’s pretty cozy here. Actual sunlight doesn’t hurt, either.”

“Apparently too cozy.” She grabs the first person she sees, a pilot who stares at her with wide eyes. “Emergency evacuation. Spread the word to pack everything you can and leave, I’ll let you know where we’re headed when we’re in orbit.”

He salutes and scurries off.

“Woah, hey now.” Han snatches at her elbow until she turns around to face him. “What’s going on?”

“There’s a new informant. He told me the Empire knows we’re here. They’re coming for us.”

“And you trust this person because…”

“I don’t have a choice,” she snaps. Someone runs past them, holding three packs filled to the brim with rations. “It’s either he’s lying and we’re not in danger, or he’s telling the truth and we’re going to die if we don’t listen. It’s not exactly hard math.”

It could be a trap of course, but he hadn’t suggested any sort of direction or destination to follow, and Leia wasn’t inclined to share. Especially not after his tidbit about Vader and Palpatine reading minds.

He squints at her. “That’s not it.”

“What?”

“I don’t believe you,” he insists. He’s so infuriating. Leia doesn’t know why she hasn’t kicked him out yet.

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

“Yes you do, and you’re either gonna tell me why, or find a different transport when we head out of here.”

“Who said I was riding on your hunk of junk?” She demands. She actually was planning on going with them, since the Falcon has more than enough room for all the supplies that can’t fit in the other ships and none of the trustworthiness of the other pilots, but Han doesn’t need to know that.

“Well?”

Damn him. Damn him for knowing how to read her. She doesn’t know when she let that happen.

“I feel it,” she admits, defeated. “Something tells me he’s trustworthy. We’ll wait and see if it’s right.”

He studies her. She holds her head high, but inside she’s jittery at the scrutiny. They don’t have time for this.

“Yeah, all right,” Han finally says.

“Really?”

“Yes, really.” He rolls his eyes, like she’s not acting absolutely insane by putting all her trust in a random man she’s never even met. “Now come on, Princess, weren’t you the one who said we had to hurry?”

What is it about this man that makes it impossible to tell whether she wants to punch him or drag him into the nearest supply closet? They don’t have time to find out.

“So there’s good news and bad news.”

“Bad news first,” she demands.

“They know there’s a mole.”

“Shit.” Of course they know, how could they not? She should have been more careful, less obvious about the correlation of their movements with the Empire’s plans. “The good news?”

“They’ve tasked me with hunting down this ‘pathetic rebel spy,’” Skywalker says, humor in his voice. “That should buy me some time.”

Leia can’t quite stop the snort she lets out. “Seriously?”

“Yep. You’re speaking to a professional mole-hunter, here.”

“Well congratulations on the promotion, Skywalker.”

“Thank you,” he says grandly. Then, quieter, “It won’t last, Princess. They’ll find out eventually.”

“I know. Just hang in there, it will be over soon.”

“Will it?” He asks, suddenly sounding very young. She realizes that she has no idea how old he is. She doesn’t know anything about the man who has saved them more times than she cared to admit, and the idea rattles her until they sign off.

Later, she looks up the name Skywalker in their archives. There are a few results, but only one sticks out.

Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Knight and hero of the Clone Wars. Killed at the hands of Darth Vader. There are gossip articles too, speculations on his relationship with the pregnant Senator Padmé Amidala, who died around the same time Skywalker did. The baby, it seems, died with her.

Unless he didn’t.

It’s ridiculous. It’s impossible. The idea is so ludicrous that Leia almost rejects it entirely.

But it makes sense. By the Maker, it makes sense.

The child of Anakin Skywalker, it seems, would be a powerful Force user indeed. Powerful enough for Kenobi to take the baby and run. Powerful enough for the Emperor to want him for his own gain. Powerful enough to send Vader after Kenobi and take the boy himself.

Maybe even powerful enough to shield his mind from Vader and Palpatine’s intrusions.

Powerful enough to hide the fact that he’s a spy.

Leia sinks into her chair, covering her face as she laughs.

Maybe Luke isn’t so bad after all.

“No, no, no,” she mutters, digging through the smoking wreckage of the TIE fighter. “Don’t be dead, please don’t be dead.”

“Princess…” Han lays a hand on her shoulder that she immediately shrugs off.

“No, he’s not dead. He’s not. Luke!”

A faint cough answers her, and she’s so relieved to hear it she could cry. Behind her, Han starts bellowing for a medic and, “Some damn help here, do you expect us to move all this ourselves?”

“Luke, it’s me,” she sobs. “It’s Leia. You’re at the Rebel Base. You’re safe.”

More coughing, and there’s a worrying rasp to his voice when he says, “You know…my name?”

“I figured it out.”

“Smart.” This time, the coughing is so bad Leia and Han both wince.

“Shit, kid,” Han says, moving another piece of rubble. “Don’t talk. We’re gonna get you out of here, all right?”

“Stand back,” Luke chokes out.

“What?”

“Stand back. Please.”

Han protests, but something in Leia knows they should listen to him. She drags him back, and motions everyone else to fall back with them. They do, albeit reluctantly.

“Clear,” she calls, hoping Luke can hear her.

The TIE explodes.

“Fuck!” Han goes back in, Leia on his heels with the terrifying feeling that she’d just allowed Luke to die, before they both stop in their tracks. Around them, the broken pieces of the TIE are floating.

And curled up in the middle is a man dressed all in white.

“Luke!” She pushes past Han to start dragging him out, and after another moment of staring around them, he helps her.

As soon as they get clear, the pieces fall to the ground with a clatter. Luke falls limp with them.

Han is still looking at the TIE. “Can you do that?” He asks quietly.

Leia pauses her examination of the unconscious man in front of her to glare at him. “Is that what you’re most concerned with right now? Really?”

“Excuse me for asking, Princess!”

“It’s white,” Luke grumbles, pulling at his hospital gown bitterly. “I hate wearing white.”

“Should I be offended?”

He rolls his eyes. “Don’t even. You look great and you know it. I just feel like I never left.”

“Well,” she says gingerly. “I guess it’s a good thing you got sick of it. If we went around in matching outfits all the time, people might think we’re twins.”

He snorts. “Yeah, right.”

#star wars #star wars fanfiction #luke skywalker #han solo #leia organa #imperial luke skywalker #exactly when luke was taken by the empire is totally up to speculation it could honestly be anywhere from newborn to 5 #as for why luke has his dad’s blue lightsaber here instead of like a red one or smth- well you see your honor I thought it would be a slay #but also when you think about it for more than 5 seconds you’re like actually yeah that’s sick and twisted of palpatine and vader actually #you’re carrying your fathers most treasured weapon #you don’t know your father once fought the rise of the very empire you stand to inherit with that blade. you don’t know who he defended #you don’t know your father brought about the end of the republic with that same weapon #he killed the younglings with it. he fought his closest companion with it #you’re carrying what was once your fathers most treasured weapon. you are your fathers most treasured weapon #just as your father is a weapon now #also I didn’t make it clear but obi-wan has his ‘strike me down and I become stronger’ moment like he still dies on purpose to cause proble #but when he saw luke he couldn’t look away. he had to see him with living eyes one last time #can u tell I had So Many Thoughts on everyone else’s perspective in this fic too #han is having a constant crisis in the background because 1) force is real 2) princess is annoying AND pretty which sucks for him #in particular and 3) pretty princess is learning to use the force and is hot while doing it. Chewie is laughing at him. life is hell #good lord did not mean to put an entire essay in the tags. i love their super special twin powers (cosmic entity that binds their souls)#edit: GUYS I FORGOT TO NAME THE FUCKING AU #AND WHEN I TRY AND FIX IT IT GLITCHES OUT ON MEEE 😭😭😭

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