#possessive!rafe cameron

[strangelysamantha]

unfortunate events ☆

rafe cameron x reader.

warnings: explicit depictions of abuse, swearing, mention of drug usage, car crash, yelling, fights, overprotective!rafe, sad story basically. this is 18+ and very dark.

words: 2,947.

summary: rafe cameron is so overprotective, but that doesn’t stop him from putting you in harms way. after reckless driving lands you in the hospital, your relationship is on the rocks.

request? no :)

a/n: like and repost if you enjoy. <3

—————————————-————————

rafe cameron wasn’t going to go to this party alone. he didn’t approve of the idea of you being alone. “you have to go.” he states firmly. you shake your head, “rafe i really don’t feel like going. i’m sorry.” he stopped in his tracks. “you have to come with me.” his pushing was making you uneasy. “please. i’d rather just hang at your house until you get back.” this infuriates him, “why so you can invite anyone you want over? hell no.” you groan, agitation rising. it was always so draining to fight with rafe. despite giving him no reason to suspect cheating, he brings it up, and accuses you. “rafe i’m not cheating. i’m not inviting anyone over. you go through my phone all the time. i just want to lay low tonight, okay? the last party we went too ended up flooded with police.”

“if you don’t come all the girls will hit on me. you have no choice. i’ll drag you to that party myself.” your face went pale in shock. his aggression has been getting worse. “rafe, please.” you frown at him, exhausted. he doesn’t budge. “get ready. let’s go.” he opens the closet swiftly, grabbing you one of his t-shirt. he throws it on the bed, heading to your bag to grab a pair of shorts. “there, an outfit. now there’s no excuse. let’s go.” you cower, dimly reaching for your clothes to quickly change. you throw on some shoes and hurry to follow rafe out the door.

he starts the car. you put your seatbelt on, swarming with nerves. you look over at him, his eyes dark and his mouth in a scowl. “you just have to make things difficult all the fucking time.” you glance out the window, admiring the beautiful sunset, “i’m sorry.” is all you can mutter out. he chuckles, “always so sorry.” he pulls out of the driveway, heading to the party.

the whole car ride rafe was speeding, and cutting people off. he yelled in frustration at the other drivers for going so slow, while he was pushing 90 miles per hour. you hold on firmly, terrified if you would even make it to the party. you filled with relief when rafe pulls into the beach. you breath deeply when he turns the car off, the music stops abruptly and silence creeps in. “let’s go.” he states, immediately exiting his side of the car. you try to calm your heartbeat as adrenaline was coursing through your veins. you open the car door, shutting it carefully, as rafe has gotten on you many times for slamming his car door too hard. you quickly follow after him, hoping he’ll loosen up at the party.

you two approach the alcohol, he pours you a cup before handing it to you. you thank him softly. he grabs himself a beer, sliding his free hand around your waist. he leads you through the party, him greeting with everyone, catching up, and laughing. you stood awkwardly, smiling, to keep the mood light. despite how excluded, and miserable you felt, you had to make sure rafe didn’t get upset again so you tried to be friendly. you wanted to get tonight over with. he had you walk down a path, it was secluded and didn’t have nearly as many people. rafe ran into topper, “finally i’ve been looking everywhere for you man.” rafe grabs toppers shoulder chuckling loudly. topper grins, “we got some good, wanna try?” rafe drops his hand from your waist, “of course, you don’t gotta ask.” he turns around to you, “stay here. don’t leave. i’ll be right back.” you nod your head, “okay.” he looks at you, pecking a kiss on your lips before heading towards topper.

you stayed put. a little disappointed that your cup was empty now. you sigh, pulling out your phone to pass time. you get a light tap to your shoulder, you look up to see jj. you and jj were best friends, until you started dating rafe. he didn’t want you hanging out or talking to jj. that severed the connection you had with him indefinitely. you look around, worried. “you can’t be talking to me. i’m sorry, but rafe won’t be okay with this.” he snickers, “you really letting that dick have that much control over you?” you frown at his words, “i know, you just don’t get it.” he nods before handing you a full cup. “i figured you’d at least want another drink.” you smile softly, “thanks j.” he grins before walking away. behind you, rafe had watched part of the interaction; livid.

“was that jj fucking maybank talking to you?” he spit out, “i told you to stay away from him!” you nod your head, “rafe he came up to me, i told him to leave and he did. please nothing happened.” his eyes are blown out and his breathing is heavy. “nothing happened? how’s your cup so full then? when i left it was empty.” you look down at your cup, “jj gave me a cup, but that’s all.” he’s beyond annoyed, “i leave you alone for one second? one second and your sloppy seconds comes up to you. i guess i can’t leave you anywhere.” he grips you arm tightly, “we’re leaving, better hope we don’t run into loverboy on the way out.” his grip is firm, and he’s pulling you away from the party, the sand gets into your shoes and you struggle to keep up with his fast pace. the car is finally in sight, thankfully jj didn’t try to intervene. last time you saw jj, rafe told you couldn’t see him or talk to him anymore. however, that was after he fought jj, punching him square in the jaw and eye, slamming him to the floor, and kicking his stomach. it was gruesome to watch. you approach the car, you hurry to the passenger side, forgetting rafe had done coke. he’s jittery, and frantically looking around for the keys, keys he had already put into the engine. he was stressing you out, “can i drive rafe?” he stares at you unamused, “no, this is my car.” you think back to all the times you gave rafe money to pay for his gas, and insurance bill, since he had blew through his money to buy drugs. you sigh, “please.” he realizes the keys are in the engine, and immediately pull out, without realizing he almost ran into a car that was driving behind him. he thankfully stopped before getting too close, and after the car passes him, he starts the route home.

his driving is awful, he’s swerving, he hits the outter lanes rumple strips, causing the car to shake and hum. you’re sick to your stomach, no amount of alcohol easing your minds as he hazardously speeds down the road. he’s blaring music, glancing at his phone to que songs. he’s being extremely dangerous and you couldn’t hold your tongue any longer, “rafe you’re scaring me. please slow down.” your concerns only fuel him more, “you’re scared now?! haha! just wait.” he switches the gearstick, putting his car into sport mode, he slams on the gas, hitting 120. he’s swerving down the lanes laughing hysterically, he makes an unpredictable turn, he overcorrects himself, however, hitting a car at full speed, the other car wedging into your side, the glass shatters, the airbag is deployed, and the car completely flips over, landing on its top. you hyperventilate, hysterically crying. you knew this would happen, you didn’t trust him to drive at all. “holy fuck!” is all rafe can say. you struggle, trying to unbuckle your seatbelt. he finally glances over, noticing the blood from all the glass that had been pushed into your face. “fuck baby, your face, get out. come on, i got you.” he undos your seatbelt for you. you hold your heart, shock overcoming your every thought, losing mobility on what to do. the pain hadn’t quite hit yet.

rafe exits the car, his hands on his head as he’s screaming. he rushes to the other side, reaching in between the shattered window to open the door from the outside. it doesn’t budge at first, but with as much strength he can muster, he gets it open. he reaches for your waist, pulling you out the car. your breath is heavy, and it feels like everything was in slow motion. your body was vibrating, ears ringing, you reach up to feel your face, looking at your hand after, its drenched in blood. the sight alone kills any rush, and immediately all you can focus on is the glass stuck in your face, and the giant gash on your forehead from the collision of your head to the window. rafe is holding you in his arms, he’s staring at your mutilated face; his eyes get teary. he tries to find his phone but he didn’t have it on him, it was in the cup holder. he reaches into your shorts to grab your phone. he dials 911, and an ambulance rushes to your site. you look around trying to see what happened to the car be hit, it was pretty totaled, stationed on the side of the street, it’s exterior destroyed. “put me down please.” rafe didn’t want too, “you’re in bad condition, the ambulance will be here soon. i got you baby.” his words used to reassure you, but now the feeling of his touch beneath you made your blood cold, and the mere thought of him revolted you. you struggled to keep your eyes awake, in the distance the ambulances were approaching, sirens blaring.

the emts run up to rafe, they grab your lifeless body from him. they carry you onto the bed, rafe tries to follow, but a different emt and two police officers catch up to him. “you don’t look to good either, we just have to run some test okay?” he pushed them away, “i have to make sure she’s okay!” the emt reassured him that you’d be okay, but if he wasn’t okay, he wouldn’t be able to know what happens to you. this had him settle down so they could check on him. in the ambulance they’re hooking you up to a machine, filling you with medication to ease your pain. they rush you to a hospital, immediately getting you into a room. they begin operating, exhaustion hit and you couldn’t stay awake.

rafe finished his check up, they cleared him with a diagnosis of a minor concussion, he’ll have some back pain and a sore neck, but they gave him some medicine. police officers gave him a ticket for endangerment and reckless behavior under the operation of a vehicle. a tow truck came, and picked up his car. the emts offered him a ride to the hospital you were at.

you lay down in the hospital bed. you finally manage to stay awake. a nurse comes in, smiling at you. “how are you feeling?” she asks. “need water.” she nods, she hands you a small cup of ice water. “here you go,” she lifts it to your mouth and you take a decent sip. “i feel off. what’s going on?” you question. “well you were in a bad accident. you were rushed here. you’ve been here for a few hours, in and out of consciousness. we’ve been giving you some medicine to ease your pain.” you nodded. “where is…” you hesitate. “he’s in the lobby. do you want to see him?” you shake your head, “not yet. i need some time.” she nods. “i completely understand.” you look around, “do you happen to know where my phone is?” she nods, grabbing it from your pile of clothes. “here.” she hands it to you. “i’ll give you some space, just press the button if you need anything at all.” you thanked her and she slipped out the door.

you look down at your phone. you hesitated. you knew you shouldn’t. but the idea that you could have died during the accident only urged you to make the call sooner. after a few rings you hear a confused jj, assuming he’s trying to cover in case it’s rafe calling, “who’s this?” you bite your lip. “hey it’s me.” he sighs in relief. “what’s going on?” he urgently asks. he hadn’t heard from you, but he did witness rafe dragging you away from the party. you take a deep breath, “i got in an accident j.” his breath gets caught in his throat. “what happened? are you okay? where are you?” he bombards you, “i’m in the hospital, they have me all hooked up but i survived. it was bad. the whole car flipped. it was so scary.” your voice is low and shaky, the events of the wreck replaying in your mind. ever since you woke up that’s all your mind could concentrate on. “i didn’t want that to be the last time we talked.” his heart swells at your voice, “im glad you called me. i was worried seeing how he forced you to leave.” you sigh, “i don’t know what to do.” he frowns at your predicament. “you gotta leave, i know he’s nice sometimes and you like him, but he’s not the same. someone who loves you wouldn’t be putting you down like that.” you agree with his words, but it was still really hard. “i know.”

that was the shitty part. you knew how toxic rafe was. you knew how dangerous he got, and how unsafe and irresponsible he was. but no matter how many times he screamed, dragged, pushed, you wanted to stay. to make him better. but you realize now you can’t force someone to be better. that’s up to themselves. “i’m going to leave him.” jj is proud of you, “good luck. you got this. you need this.” you thank him, “i gotta go, i’ll call you later.” he says his goodbye, and you hang up. you relax into the bed, slowly closing your eyes. you stomach growls slightly and there’s a pounding in your head that doesn’t seize. you hesitate, but ultimately decide to press the button. after a few minutes the nurse from earlier arrives in your room. she knocks gently before coming inside. “are you doing okay?” she questions. your neck is sore and you back feels sprained when you sit up. “i need something to eat, i feel really nauseous.” she nods, handing you the cafeterias menu. you glance over it before choosing something easy. “can i just get chicken noodle soup?” she nods, grabbing the menu and exiting the room.

rafe plagues your mind. you knew he was in the waiting room, anxious, and ready to see you. you decided that once you get your soup he’d be welcomed into the room. the nurse brings you the soup, and a glass of juice. she sets it on the tray, “can you let him back here?” she hands you the spoon, “yes i’ll go grab him.” she smiles and leaves the room.

after a few minutes you hear a knock. you yell out a “come in.” and rafe appears. the sight of him makes you nervous, he’s the first to talk. he sits in the chair beside your bed. “i’m so so sorry. i feel like an idiot. i shouldn’t have put you in danger. please, i never thought id be the reason you’re in the hospital.” you frown at him, clueless on how to respond. “are you okay?” he nags. you shrug but immediately regret it when pain shoots down your spine. “i’ll heal, but i’m in alot of pain rafe.” he slouches, his head in his hands. you hear him crying softly. the sight aches your heart. you always had a a soft spot for him. it was sickening how much you put up with, how much effort and energy you tried to give him. but all it did was resort into a fight. “i can’t do this rafe.”

your words break him, he is full on sobbing, “please don’t leave me.” you shake your head. “i just need space. some time. this was a lot rafe. i can’t do it. i need a break.” he knew that you deserved it, he didn’t want to pressure you. “i understand.” he slowly stands up, silent as he leaves the room. you lean back, relief washing over you. you reach for the spoon and begin to eat your soup. the nurse came back in, “he left.” you nod. “thank you.” you pull your phone out. you dial jj again.

he eagerly accepts the call, bringing his phone to his ear. you speak first. “rafe left the hospital. i told him. i did it.” jj is relieved, “im so proud of you. i know it was hard.” you hesitate, “do you think you could come see me?” his breathing is heavy; “yeah, send me the hospitals address.” you send him the address, “i’ll see you in a bit, okay?” you mumble softly, “okay.” he hangs up, rushing to the twinkie to make it to the hospital before visiting hours are over.

you knew it would piss rafe off if he knew you had invited jj to your hospital room, but you couldn’t get through it alone. sleep overcomes you, the soup settling in your stomach as you relax in the hospital bed. there’s a gentle knock on your room, but you don’t answer. fast asleep, jj opens the door. he sees you sleeping peacefully; not wanting to disrupt he lays on the couch in the corner of the room, resting and waiting for you to wake up.

~~~

[marvelsgirl616]

☆ POSSESSED ☆

• Pairing y/n x Possessive!Rafe Cameron. (TW: possessive and toxic, slightly obsessed, kissing, pinning against a wall…)

• Summary/Pre-View: “would you like to be mine?” Rafe says in a sweet yet firm tone. You open your mouth to speak but nothing comes out. You’re speechless…do you want to be his?

•A/N: this is literally my second fic/blurb so yeah I’m a work in progress. :) thanks for reading! I hope you enjoy!

——————————————————————————

As you talk with rafe about how both of your days were going so far he says out of nowhere….“would you like to be mine?” Rafe says in a sweet and firm tone and a dark glimmer in his eyes. You open your mouth to speak but nothing comes out. You’re speechless…do you want to be his?

He takes his chance with your silence and pulls you in, holding you against him and keeping his strong grip on your small body. He looks into your eyes with a fiery determination, like he was waiting for an answer but wanted to intimidate you into saying it.

“Go ahead, you can say it..” He says in an almost mocking tone, then giving you a slight squeeze to taunt you.

As my heart beats out of my chest, my mind is processing his words…you want to be his. You really do…but you can’t bring yourself to say it. It’s as if rafe can read my mind. He smirks knowing you do want to be his.

He brings his strong hand up to your chin, lifting it up so you’re looking at him straight on. There was a soft intensity to his expression that you had never seen before. This was a side of rafe that he’d kept hidden deep down, a side that only you had ever seen. He couldn’t even explain why he was feeling the way he was, but there was one thing he knew for certain. He whispers softly with a stern yet soft tone.

“You’re mine. And I intend to make you mine permanently” he lets out a low growl from his throat as he presses you up against the wall, trapping you against the cold, plaster surface. He’s practically got you pinned against the wall, his hands on either side of your hips. The wall is rough against your skin, but Rafe’s body is warm and burning against yours.

You can feel his muscles tensing as he keeps his composure, fighting his desires. You’ve never seen him want anything so badly in his life, and you were right in the middle of it. With one final move, he leans down and presses his lips against yours, kissing you passionately and fiercely.

As you both pull away from the kiss all you can do is smile and blush. With a nod and soft smile you say “yes I want to be yours”

Rafe’s eyes soften as he smiles and says firmly “good” and moves forward crashing his lips against yours with a fiery passion yet again.

[crookedteethed]

18+ -mdni

ᥫ᭡. Soft!Rafe Headcanons (but oh, it turns dark)

At first, he doesn’t seem like the other guys on Kildare. Everyone knows Rafe Cameron as the kook prince: arrogant, troublemaker, sometimes violent. But when he first meets you, there’s this quiet charm to him. He stumbles over his words, blushes when you catch him staring too long, and fumbles with his sleeves nervously. It’s almost sweet—almost like he’s a different Rafe entirely.

Soft!Rafe who insists on driving you everywhere. He’d show up outside your house at random times with this stupidly proud smile, like he’s already won just by getting to see you. He always opens the car door for you, fingers grazing the small of your back a little too long. And he drives slow—too slow—just to keep you in his car for longer.

He buys you little things constantly. A bouquet of flowers just because. Your favorite iced coffee. A gold chain with a tiny charm that you offhandedly mentioned once. “It made me think of you,” he’d mumble, soft voice barely audible. But he always watches intently as you react, cataloging every smile or laugh.

Soft!Rafe whose obsession starts with him memorizing every detail about you. The exact shade of your nail polish. The way you like your coffee. The perfume you wear. He swears it lingers in his car after he’s dropped you off, and he secretly takes the long way home just to breathe it in.

Late-night texts turn unsettlingly consistent. At first, it’s cute—“you up?” or “i can’t sleep. thinking of you :)” But soon, it turns into long, rambling messages about how he misses you even though he just saw you. “Do you think of me the way I think of you? I can’t get you out of my head, it’s killing me.”

Soft!Rafe who worships your body. When things inevitably escalate, he’s almost reverent. Every kiss is lingering, every touch is careful—like he’s afraid you’ll slip through his fingers. “You’re perfect,” he whispers against your skin, breathless. He’ll spend hours between your legs, murmuring praises like it’s his purpose to make you fall apart under him.

Soft!Rafe whose sweetness starts to seem... off. He tells you how beautiful you are a little too intensely. There’s a quiet desperation in his voice sometimes, like he’s trying to convince you to stay. “No one could ever love you like I do.” And when you pull away? His sweet smile falters just a little too long.

He keeps things that remind him of you. The sweater you let him borrow once��it’s folded neatly under his pillow. A lipstick you accidentally left in his car sits on his desk like a trophy. He’s even saved your voicemail, replaying it late at night when he’s alone in his room.

Soft!Rafe who loses it the first time you mention another guy. At first, he plays it cool—laughs it off with that forced smile of his. But his hand tightens around the steering wheel, knuckles turning white. Later that night, you get a slew of texts: “He doesn’t deserve you. He doesn’t even know you like I do.”

He starts showing up uninvited. Outside your job when you get off. At parties you didn’t even tell him about.“Just wanted to make sure you were okay,” he says softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. But his eyes are dark—there’s something possessive behind them that you can’t ignore anymore.

Soft!Rafe who makes love to you like you’re his religion. His touches turn frantic, kisses bruising as he whispers, “Mine. You’re mine, aren’t you?” over and over again. There’s something in the way he holds you—almost desperate—like if he lets go, you’ll disappear.

The shift is slow but terrifying. One day, you notice how eerily quiet he gets when you don’t give him all your attention. His soft demeanor doesn’t falter, but there’s a shadow of something unhinged in his eyes when he tilts his head and asks, “Who were you with earlier?”

Soft!Rafe who convinces you he’s harmless. Even when you start to get uneasy, he pulls you right back in with his charm. “You’re the only good thing in my life,” he whispers, voice trembling as he cups your face. And suddenly, you feel guilty for doubting him. After all, he’s sweet Rafe—he wouldn’t hurt you... right?

a/n-emptying out my drafts, yuh.

as always, comments, likes, and reblogs all keep me motivated. 🫶🏾

[eraenaa]

Imgonnagetyouback

Inspired by the song "Imgonnagetyouback" by Taylor Swift

Rafe Cameron x Reader Tag List

Summary: The plan is clear. Get Rafe back after your breakup. 

Warnings: Possessiveness, Jealousy, ¡Kinda Biased Towards the Reader!, ¿Kinda Toxic Relationship?, Violence, Mature, 18+, P in V Sex, Fingering, Not Proofread 

Word Count: 3,826

Two weeks. Two fucking weeks since Rafe broke up with you, and only now did you begin to spiral. It was not as if it was your first breakup with him; you would admit you two had a handful of breakups during the duration of your relationship, especially when you consider that you two had been dating since middle school. But this instance was different; this was the first time that Rafe was the one to initiate the breakup. Before, it was always you who called it quits, and he would come to you on his knees, begging you to take him back. However, now, he was the one to leave, and a fortnight had already passed, and no word was heard from him, leading you to become inwardly frantic. 

“So this one’s official now, huh?” Sarah asked as you filed your nails, staring harshly at your phone, willing it to light up with a notification from your best friend’s brother. “The audacity he has to do this to me! Did I tell you how he broke up with me?” You asked, and Sarah said no, even though you had ranted to her the story at least twice. “We were just sitting here, watching a movie— we had not fought for at least a month, and then he just said, ‘Let’s break up,’ and fucking got up and left!” You groaned, remembering how you stayed up later that night waiting for Rafe because you did not believe his words and the ludicrous way he ended your relationship. “I hate him! I should smash up his bike to teach him a lesson. He’s so fucking immature!” You groaned and heard Sarah sigh, “I’ve told you that years before and hundreds of times after, but you just ignored my warnings.” You groaned once more and tightly shut your eyes. You feel Sarah go to where you sat, “What are you gonna do now?” She asked and you took in a deep breath. “I’m gonna get him back.” You stated, and from the side of your eye, you saw her expression grow confused. “What?”

“I’m gonna get him back,” You declared once more. “I’m gonna get him back then be the one to break up with him— a real break up this time. Like, totally over.” You say but that did not aid Sarah’s confusion. “He does not get to be the one with the final say. He does not get to be the one to end all of this.” You say. “No offense, Sarah, but I’m going to crush your brother’s heart.” You turn to her and watch her lips twitch. “Do you need help?” She asked, and that earned a genuine laugh from you after weeks of being stoic as you did not know if you should mourn your relationship or wait for Rafe to be standing with flowers at the other side of your door. “I’m gonna get him back so bad.” You say once more as your mind was already thinking of the ways to take your revenge. 

You played in the tennis court with Sarah, her already luring in Topper, and with Topper came your now ex, Rafe. They just came from a round of god, and you try your best not to grow distracted by his presence, you willed your stubborn heart not to admit that it had missed him. You bounced the tennis ball, waiting for Sarah to finish her conversation with Topper. You smirked to yourself as you felt eyes on your ass. Specifically wearing Rafe’s favorite tennis skirt of yours. Your mind conjured the memory of him almost drooling as he watched you step out of the fitting room, fashioning the tight, lilac skirt. Just like a moth to a flame, Rafe threaded towards your direction. 

“Hey,” He greeted; in his hand was a can of cold beer, and you urged your gaze not to be entranced by the veins on his rather attractive hand. There was just something about how he gripped things. “Hi,” you say, tilting your gaze upward and squinting your eyes as the sun is beaming down harshly. “How are you?” He asked, his voice holding an edge of tension and awkwardness. “Pretty good, we’re three, love,” You say and watch as his lips part as you intentionally use the nickname you used to call him in a phrasing that was completely ambiguous. It was exactly why you asked Sarah to lure them here to the tennis court, knowing it was the only appropriate setting where you could execute at least three parts of your plan to get him back. “Love?” He asked, his voice lower, and you nodded. “Yeah, love. Zero,” You say, your demeanor relaxed as if you were not at all affected that he ended your six-year relationship. 

You watch him wet his lips and take a chug of his beer. “About the uh… the— our break up,” He stuttered, and you gazed top at him innocently, “What about it?” You asked and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, your eyes catching the way the ball on his throat bobbed, his lips parting, and you could practically see his mind trying to form his words to address the situation. “That’s it?” He asked after a while, and you bit your lip, knowing he loved it when you did that action, convincing him that you, too, were trying to think of a response even though you already knew how the scene would play out. “Yeah, I suppose. I mean, ours was a middle-school romance; it has run its course.” You said and watch intently as how hurt flashes in his eyes before quickly covering it with cool detachment. “Why? Did you think this would end up in like a marriage or something?” You ask, tilting your head to the side, noting how Rafe’s jaw clenched. 

Every word you uttered was like a bullet into Rafe’s chest. He must admit he broke up with you for no particular reason other than just being petty. The sudden breakup was just a result of his pride being wounded. Topper and Kelce had reminded him of the times you broke up with him and him being quick to go down on his knees and beg for you back. His ego could just not stomach the way they called him a ‘simp’ and ‘fucking whipped’ that he made a rash and ill-thought judgment. He was waiting for you to contact him, a call, a text, even a fucking smoke signal, just anything as long as you did the first move first. But two weeks had flown by, and not a word came from you. Now, to hear you say that you’ve expected your relationship to end— that you were practically just counting the days before its demise presented Rafe with sorrow, regret, and, greatest of all, rage.  

“Did you think this would end up in like a marriage or something?” The sentence echoed through Rafe’s mind. What the fuck did you mean by that? He remembered all too well the times you gushed about your futures. About how your wedding ceremonies would play out. What dress you’d wear. Where your honeymoon would be. The number of kids you two would have. The house you two will live in. Every specific detail of your future was thought of and was embedded in his mind, and now here you go, disregarding all of those sacred plans. 

“Rafe?” You called as he stood before you unmovingly, but you could feel him seething internally. You stepped closer and placed your hand on his arm to get his attention. You bit your cheeks as you feel his skin grow riddled with gooseflesh, a reaction that only you could elicit from him. You stared into his eyes, intense blue orbs that were starting to think twice about his decision. “Hey asshole, get out of the court, we’re trynna play!” You hear Sarah scream from a distance, and you step back and steal away your touch from him but not your eyes, as you wanted him to get the message that there was no apprehension or sadness in you about his decision to end things. Rafe stomped over to the side, standing next to Topper, him obviously agitated and tense. You turned to Sarah, and a knowing smirk appeared on both of your lips as the laid-out plans were going well. You were so gonna get him back. 

After your round of tennis at the club, the group decided to go back to Tanneyhill. You made yourself comfortable at the estate that was practically a second home to you. “Hey, Wheez,” You greeted as you went to the kitchens to grab a bottle of water. “Oh, you’re back!” She cried, and you laughed as you were enveloped in a hug by Rafe and Sarah’s sister, who was practically yours, too. “I heard about the breakup,” she whispered as she parted, but her hushed voice was moot as her older brother still heard her words. You were not quite sure what to say, but luckily, Wheezie spoke once more. “I mean, it’s not like it was unexpected, but still! I can’t believe you ended it; you were supposed to be my sister!” She exclaimed, devastated. 

“She didn’t end it,” Sarah came, and you watched as Wheezie abruptly turned to her brother, who stood next to Topper, who was hindering from laughing. “You idiot! You let her go?!” She exclaimed at Rafe, and you just stood there as Wheezie expressed her disbelief at her brother. “Shouldn’t you be out playing,” Rafe gritted as Wheezie’s reaction was only solidifying his regret. You bit your lip and perched yourself atop the counter as you watched the three Cameron siblings argue, Rafe trying to be rid of Wheezie and Sarah coming to their little sister’s defense. You turn to Topper, the two of you being a constant audience of this little family affair. 

In the end, Rafe, who was urging Wheezie to be the one to leave, was the one who stomped away. “Well, that went better than expected,” Sarah said. The three of you girls were left alone in the kitchen as Topper followed out his friend. “Still can’t believe that he was the one to break it off,” Wheezie said. You simply shrugged, “That’s why I’m trying to get him back,” You say. “So I can be the one to really end it.” 

“Wait, so, if you two aren’t dating anymore, who are you going to take to Midsummers?” Wheezie asked. And you feel your lips part as that did not even cross your mind. You and Rafe had always gone to Midsummers together. The event connected to many memories and many firsts for the two of you. “I guess no one,” You say. “But what if he takes someone else?” Wheezie asked, and you turned to Sarah. “We need to find you a date,” She quickly said, and you nodded. “Wait— but aren’t you trying to get him back to get back at him? If you bring a date, wouldn’t that like piss Rafe off more?” Wheezie asked as you three headed towards Sarah’s bedroom. “Exactly. Haven’t you noticed Rafe likes things better when he can’t have them?” Sarah asked, and you nodded along, recalling the times Rafe’s determination to acquire things that were dangled before him but were just beyond reach. 

“So, who would you take to Midsummers?” Sarah asked, “That’s an easy enough problem to solve; what I need now is something to wear for the party later,” You say and watch Wheezie and Sarah frown. “You’re going to that? You hate house parties.” Sarah frowned. “I do. But Rafe is going and it’s important for him to see that this whole ordeal is not at all affecting me,” You explained. “What? You’re going to flirt with other boys?” Wheez asked, and you smirked, “Duh,” 

 Rafe watched steely eyes as you sauntered into the room, taking the drink some dude handed to you and flashing him with a smile that had always been meant for Rafe. His fist clenched around his cup, effectively crushing the red solo cup as he watched you entertain the guys he had always kept a distance from you. His heart throbbing in his chest and his rage consuming him as you let one of them lead you towards the dance floor. Letting him stand behind you and let your bodies be flushed— letting him take Rafe’s place. 

You gritted your teeth as Rafe made no move. He only stayed on his spot by the side with some girl from your school who had always been over him since he was in the third grade and you were in the second. But even then, even though you two were just children, you two had always been drawn to each other. You huffed as you felt the vile feeling rising in you as a random dude kept dancing against you, and Rafe made no move— at this point in time, you miss his violent jealousy that you used to frown upon. 

You feel your heart still as your eyes locked with his. The silent language between you had gone mute and was now forgotten. Your heart clenched as he did nothing, only turned away from you and draped his arm around the shoulders of another girl. You staggered back as his actions stunned you and stung your heart. “Wanna get out of here?” The guy behind you dipped down and whispered in your ear, tugging at your hand. Your lips parted as you looked between him and Rafe, you waited a moment, willing him to turn around, but he didn’t. Is it really over now? You swallowed thickly and squared your shoulders, turning to the guy you were dancing with. “Yeah, sure,” You say meekly, and he grinned, pulling you away from the crowd and towards the bonfire lit by the shore. 

Rafe felt appalled to have his arms around another girl, but he had these theatrics to get you back. He turned back his gaze to the dance floor, searching for your gaze and making sure that the guy you danced with did not step a foot beyond bounds. Rafe felt his heart fall out of his chest as he realized you were gone. He quickly removed his arm from the random girl beside him and searched for you. “Sarah, where is she? Did she go home? Tell me she went home alone.” Rafe asked as he saw Sarah with her boyfriend. “Who?” She asked, feigning innocence. “Don’t fucking play with me, where’s my fucking girlfriend?!” Rafe seethed, eyes franticly searching for you. “You don’t have a girlfriend, Rafe. You broke up with her, remember?” Sarah asked, enjoying the panic in her brother. Topper laughed beside her, and Rafe shook his head. “Fuck you two, you really do deserve each other,” Rafe gritted and headed towards the beach. 

Rafe thought he had already uncovered every level of anger within him, but he was wrong. Nothing would compare to the rage he felt when he saw the guy you were dancing with holding you by your arms, trying to keep you still as you pushed him away as he tried to kiss your lips that were meant for Rafe. “Get the fuck away from her!” Rafe charged toward the guy and landed his fist on the guy’s jaw. Your eyes widened as Rafe suddenly appeared. You just stood there in shock, watching Rafe let out his rage on a guy who finally deserved it. It took a moment before your mind registered the severity of what was now happening; a crowd appeared and circled as Rafe and the guy fought. None even made a move to hinder them. You looked around and saw Kelce and Topper by your right, urging them to get Rafe, who was not at all phased by the crows that suddenly appeared. “You fucking force yourself on her! Fucking cunt!” Rafe screamed as his punches never missed his target. He was not at all tired of beating the guy who dared touch you, his mind not registering anything around him except the rage he felt. 

You feel your heart drop as the distinct sound of a siren sounded out, the crowd that had gathered quickly dissolving, but the presence of authority did nothing to sedate and calm Rafe. He was relentless in punching the guy even though he was already on the brink of unconsciousness. “That’s enough! Go home!” The sheriff screamed, and two other officers pulled Rafe away from the bloodied and bruised body of the guy. “This was not supposed to happen,” You whisper to Sarah as they push Rafe against the cop car and handcuff his wrists. You found yourself being dropped off at the station to post bail and explain to the sheriff what had happened. “He was just defending me; that guy was forcing himself on me, and luckily, Rafe was there to stop him.” You explained and turned your gaze to Rafe, who was in holding, staring blankly at the wall, his jaw and fists still harshly clenched. “Well, he did more than stop him,” The sheriff muttered with a sigh. “He’s not pressing charges, so your little boyfriend’s free to go,” the sheriff added reluctantly. You nodded and quickly moved to go to Rafe, whose cell doors were being opened for him. 

Tense silence surrounded the both of you as you stepped out of the station, and it followed the both of you until you reached Tanneyhill. You turned to Rafe, lips parting to speak, but he cut you off by placing his lips upon yours and cupping your cheeks with both of his battered hands. You melted at his touch, finally relenting and admitting to yourself that you had greatly missed him. When you two parted, you stared deeply into his eyes, deciphering clearly the thoughts he always struggled to word out. “You still love me,” You breathed out and felt your stomach twist as he nodded his head. “Of course I do,” He answered and kissed your lips once more. You wrapped your arms around him, your fingers lightly scratching his skull, his buzzcut hair prickling and tickling your soft palms. You feel him grip your ass once more, the telltale sign that warned you where this would lead. And though you missed feeling your body tangled with Rafe’s, you still needed answers. You were still deciding if your best-laid plans should be set on fire, skeptical that all of this was just his sleight of hand. 

“Why’d you break up with me?” You asked, parting your lips. Watching as Rafe huffed and tried to kiss you again, but you turned away and urged him to answer. “I was being petty,” He mumbled, and you heard him groan as you frowned at him and removed your touch. “Baby, please,” He said as you stepped backward, your eyes narrowing at his words. “What?” You gritted. “Look, I’m sorry. It was a stupid decision. The guys were giving me shit about how you were always the one to call it off! I just… I wanted you to be the one to come to me and ask for me back…” Rafe trailed as he had no better word to explain his reasoning for breaking up with you. “You broke up with me because of your fucking pride!?” You almost screamed in anger. “I’m sorry, baby, please; I was so stupid.” Rafe sighed and tried to pull you to him; the big man he was had gone for the moment as his blue eyes pleaded with you. 

You took in a deep breath and your senses were consumed by the smell of him. Your ears rang with the sound of his voice begging for your forgiveness. Your skin tingled by his touch. You breathed heavily and shook your head. “You’re so immature,” You sighed and pulled him down by his shirt to kiss his lips. Rafe smirked against your lips and savored the taste of you that he had longed for. “Am I forgiven?” He panted as you two parted; you stayed silent for a moment. Gazing at his eyes that were alight with hope. “Depends on how many times you make me come tonight,” You whispered against his lips, watching as his blue orbs turned dark. You shrieked as he hoisted you up and made you wrap your legs around him, hurriedly bringing you back to his room just to show you how truly apologetic he was. 

You hummed in delight as Rafe sucked your tit, his other hand pinching the other bud. His body pushed you against the back of his bedroom door, and your hips moved to seek friction. “I missed you so much, baby,” Rafe groaned between the valley of your chest, biting and sucking your skin, leaving it red and most probably bruised. You bit your lip in anticipation as he tossed you on his bed. He watched you with a smirk as he removed his shirt, the moonlight illuminating his muscled body. “Like the view, my girl?” He asked and slowly crawled atop your body, his fingers finding the zipper of your dress, but he was slow to undo it. “Stop teasing, you’re still not forgiven,” You groaned as his hand was trailing the inside of your thigh. “Oh, right… I’m sorry, baby,” Rafe hummed once more and placed kisses on your neck as his hand cupped your cunt. His fingers draw circles on your cloth-covered nubbin, his lips peppering kisses on your neck. 

You bit harshly on your lip as you pushed your underwear aside and finally felt the wetness he had caused. “So wet… you wanted me back as badly as I wanted you, huh, baby?” He hummed and watched as your eyes rolled back as he abruptly inserted his two fingers inside you, curling the digits and taking your breath away. “Rafe— I need you now,” You cried as his thumb laid flat on your nubbin. “Whatever you want, baby,” Rafe hummed and obliged your pleas. Stealing away his fingers and replacing them with his length. “God, so fucking tight," He grunted as he thrust into you. You could no longer hold in your moans as he pounded into you, the tip of his cock perfectly aligned with the spot in you that made you see stars and spew out moans that you were certain would be heard by those in the hallways. But you could not find care as Rafe fucked you senseless and made you reach your peak in record time. 

You panted as you came down from your high. Your boyfriend is looking at you through his hazy, lust-filled eyes. “Am I forgiven?” He asked, and you wrapped your legs around his waist, forcing him to lie on the bed and for you to be atop him. “Not yet.” 

[snowluvvie]

₊˚⊹ ♡ . mutt!rafe cameron

MINORS DNI. | warnings — possessive behavior, toxic relationship, smut, oral (f. receiving), violence, blood, codependency, biting

mutt Rafe, who shows up on your front step with his hand in his mouth, chewing furiously at his fingernails, head hung because he had nowhere else to go

mutt Rafe, who offers to sleep on the couch in the most insincere, unconvincing tone of voice you’ve ever heard, and makes zero effort to hide his grin when you tell him he can just sleep in the bed

mutt Rafe who suddenly feels entitled to every inch of your house and everything you own just because you let him in. he eats whatever he wants out of your fridge, walks around shirtless, gets water all over your bathroom floor from shaking his hair out after he showers. you try to remind him that he’s a guest, but Rafe is too busy acting like it’s all his territory now

speaking of territory. you’re his and he won’t hear anything otherwise. he’s glued to you all the time when you guys are out—he doesn’t wanna do “his own thing” so he doesn’t see why you have to. why can’t he just be next to you all the time?

arm slung around your waist or over your shoulders, a cute back hug that turns into his bicep encircling your throat and squishing your cheeks together. he laughs like it’s a cute little show of affection, but you see the way his eyes dart around like he’s making sure other people see

bites you during sex, he can’t even help it. he gets so lost in rutting into you and proving he can make you cum harder than anyone else, when you’re in mating press with your legs over your head and he leans down to press open-mouthed kisses to your calves as he’s fucking you, they quickly turn into harsh bites that leave imprints that everyone will see tomorrow

when he’s about to go down to you, and he’s teasing you because of how much he loves to hear you beg, pressing kisses and licking stripes up your inner thigh, he also sneaks in a harsh bite. your thighs are so soft and inviting, how could he not? the way your back arches when you cry out in pain makes him so hard he gets dizzy

mutt Rafe whose bite pattern you’ve seen etched into your soft skin so often you could practically draw it from memory

mutt Rafe who sees a random guy bump into you and not say sorry at a decently crowded party and is immediately laying into him, dragging him outside by the back of his neck, kicking him until he’s crying. when you get outside and he hears you say “Rafe” in that stern voice, he stops immediately and leaves the guy on the ground to follow you as you leave

head hanging because he can tell you’re disappointed in him but he can’t figure out why. “I did it for you!” he’s following behind you and waving his hands around as he emphatically explains that “you don’t understand! I was protecting you, it was for you!”

if someone tries to hurt you, he has to put them down! that’s what you do when you love someone! you make the world a safer place for them, right? he assumes you just don’t understand what he’s saying, because he knows he’s right

you haven’t talked to him and you’re getting into bed in your cute little PJs, he looms in the doorway with his hands in his pockets, waiting. you roll your eyes and gesture for him to join you and he immediately clambers to get into bed next to you

you had planned on staying mad but when you feel his warm, hard body pushed up against you, his mouth against your cheek as he’s mouthing “don’t be mad” into your skin, your resolve shatters and you’re making out with him breathily. He keeps saying that—“c’mon, don’t be mad” through gasps and grunts the whole time he’s fucking you

mutt Rafe who eats more meat that anyone you’ve ever met in your life, yammering on about protein and iron intake. you don’t complain, though, when he brings home pounds of steak and cooks them for both of you

mutt Rafe who presents you with the most perfect medium rare steak, placing the plate down gently in your lap before he sits down next to you and subtly watches your face as you eat to make sure you like it

asks casually “was it good?” every time. so casually, putting on an oscar-winning performance of not caring, though when you hum “mm-hm” and say thank you with those eyes looking up at him, he gets a big dumb smile on his face as he takes both your plates to the kitchen

mutt Rafe who sulks around the house when you’re too busy to fuck him, which is made ten times more irritating by the fact that he always wants to fuck you and can’t seem to wrap his head around why you can’t be fucking twenty-four-seven

mutt Rafe who has zero concept of boundaries or personal time and doesn’t see why he can’t be with you whenever he wants? he feels entitled to your alone time, doesn’t see why you need it

mutt Rafe who slips into the shower with you so quietly you didn’t even know he was there until you see him, you screech at the top of your lungs and he laughs and has to catch you so you don’t slip and bust your head

he ignores your indignant fussing in favor of burying his face in your neck, and you’ve barely gotten in a single word before he has you pressed flush against the wall and has already buried himself inside of you with a low, satisfied moan

mutt Rafe who won’t get off of you, ever

mutt Rafe who pulls you onto his chest and squishes you into the crook of his armpit and is so, so warm and smells like leather polish and cologne and something else distinctly him

mutt Rafe who lays his head across your lap and stretches his shirtless body out across the whole couch. just to be annoying, at first, to get in your personal space and on your nerves, but his eyes drag shut when you start carding your fingers through his hair

mutt Rafe who gets frustrated when you won’t pay attention to him, if you’re laying in bed and reading or scrolling on your phone, he’ll stand at the end of the bed and yank on your legs, pull you down the bed and bite your feet and your calves as you screech with laughter and try to kick him

mutt Rafe who teaches you how to ride his dirt bike with hands guiding yours on the handbars and gripping your hips to guide your sitting position

when you take a tumble and bust your lip on the ground, blood running down your chin, he scoops you up off the ground like you weigh as much as a leaf. he squishes your face in his hand and gives you a sympathetic frown, telling you that “you’ll get it next time, yeah? takes practice.” he swipes some of the blood off your chin with his thumb and pops it in his mouth, like he wiped a little smudge of food off your face, and not your own blood

mutt Rafe who carries you home and leaves his dirt bike behind, and tells you you’re still the prettiest thing he’s ever seen even when your smile is stained with red

mutt Rafe who needs your reassurance that you’re proud of him, that he’s doing well, that he’s taking care of things, that he’s taking care of you. his eyes glaze over when you tell him you’re glad he’s around, he’s doing such a good job. he nods dumbly, head empty aside from the warm glow at your praise

mutt Rafe who watches you with intense eyes as you wrap a bandage around his knuckles. he decked someone for being mean to you again, so hard he almost broke his own hand and definitely broke the other guy’s nose

this time, you didn’t reprimand him. he’s trying to gauge your reaction, figure out what you’re thinking, but you’re keeping it tamped down because weirdly, you liked it a little this time. what does that say about you?

mutt Rafe who becomes junkyard guard dog Rafe—mean and singleminded and covered in blood—if you aren’t careful how you talk to him

[sslovqm]

YOU DON'T BELONG TO ANYONE ELSE

WARNING: Contains extreme jealousy, possessiveness, manipulation, and toxic relationship dynamics.

THE warm afternoon breeze brushed against your face as you waited for Rafe Cameron on the dock by his house. You had rehearsed this moment over and over, going through the words in your head, trying to find the best way to tell him that whatever this was between you two needed to end. But now that you were here, with your stomach tied in knots, it seemed like no words were enough.

When you heard the roar of his motorcycle engine cut off, your heart skipped a beat. You watched him approach with his usual confidence, hands in his pockets, an expression of curiosity mixed with that arrogance that always seemed to follow him.

“Why so serious?” he asked, a half-smile playing on his lips, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“We need to talk, Rafe.”

His smile vanished instantly, replaced by a dark look you knew all too well.

“About what?” he asked, though it seemed like he already knew the answer.

You took a deep breath, trying to summon the courage that seemed to waver with every step he took closer to you.

“I can’t do this anymore. I can’t do us anymore, Rafe.”

His reaction was immediate. His brows furrowed, and he stepped closer so fast that you instinctively stepped back.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I’m saying this doesn’t work. You don’t work, Rafe. You’re… you’re jealous, controlling, and you don’t even have the guts to tell anyone we’re together.”

Rafe let out a dry laugh, devoid of any humor.

“That’s what this is about? That I won’t make it public? Really?”

You looked at him firmly, even though you were shaking inside.

“It’s not just that. It’s everything. You don’t let me breathe, Rafe. You’re always asking where I am, who I’m with. You treat me like I’m your property, and I’m not anyone’s.”

That seemed to ignite something in him, something dangerous.

“Oh, really?” he shot back, his voice low and chilling—sending shivers down your spine. “Because you seemed pretty comfortable being mine up until now.”

“I wasn’t. I was scared of you.”

The words slipped out before you could stop them, and the truth in them seemed to hit him like a slap. For a moment, the fury in his eyes wavered, but only for a second.

“This is about him, isn’t it?” he spat, his voice rising a notch. “About those damn Pogues. Is it Maybank? Of course, it’s him. That bastard always looks at you like he wants to rip your clothes off.”

“This has nothing to do with JJ!” you shouted, desperate to make him understand. “This is about you. About what you make me feel.”

Rafe stayed silent, but his jaw was clenched, and his fists were tight at his sides. Then he stepped closer, his face just inches from yours.

“You’re not leaving, Y/N. I’m not letting you go.”

“You don’t have the right to decide that, Rafe.”

“You’re mine,” he insisted, his voice filled with a fervor that sent a chill down your spine. “And if you think I’m going to sit back while you run into that Pogue’s arms, you’re dead wrong.”

You stepped back, trying to put some distance between you, but he wouldn’t let you. His hand shot out, gripping your wrist tightly and forcing you to look at him.

“Let me go, Rafe.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, but don’t push me.”

Your heart pounded as you tried to free your hand, but his grip was unrelenting. Finally, you managed to pull away, stepping back a few feet as you looked at him with tears in your eyes.

“This isn’t love, Rafe. And no matter how hard you try to hold on, I’m not staying.”

His gaze darkened even further, and for a second, you feared what he might do. But then, he just stood there, watching you as you turned around and walked away, feeling his stare burning into your back.

You knew this wasn’t the end, that Rafe Cameron wasn’t the type to let go of what he thought was his. But for the first time in a long time, you felt like you’d reclaimed a little bit of your freedom.

[shellxrls]

ok but season 1 rape cameron like i need that like deep in my fucking guts like hes all cute and flirty next thing hes slipping a lil sumthing in ur drink…

-💦 anon

cause he’s still got the fucking baby fat on his cheeks so you mistake the muscles for protection when in reality he uses them to pummel already barely conscious girls into mattresses and sticky bar bathrooms and whatnot. veiny forearm to clavicle crushing the delicate, glassy tubes in your throat, weight breaching through layers of thick skin the same way his dick bullies into you like you’re crummy sex plastic made to morph for gross frat dick. it almost feels that way to you too though, silicone gnawing all the way from your tits to your brain with the way the drugs have your eyes rolling and brain completely extinguished.

“yeah i know, sluts like you actually like this shit. can feel your fuckin’ brain leakin’ through your panties you don’t needa hide it.” meanwhile he’s talking to an illusion of consciousness trapped in a now sex-defaced body.

[princessbrunette]

🩰💓🌸୭

ok i’m too possessive to actually want this fully but there’s part of me that fantasises abt ….

big bad rafe having tannyhill to himself for a while, n when he meets you and your cute lil friends at a party, he suggests you all come round the next weekend for just a big slumber party <3 and he pretends to be sooo innocent about it !! tells you all that he’s just soo tired of hanging out with guys all the time and that you girls seem super sweet ,, and you all hang onto his every word all giggly n excited <3 he keeps directing his attention towards you throughout the conversation, seeming to be his favourite, but no one seems to mind !

the day comes and you all spend the night cuddling up to rafe, climbing all over him, prancing around in tiny little pyjamas whilst he sits back and watches ….. he wakes up the next morning to hushed giggles, your friends gathered round as they ease u onto his lap, lowering yourself down to his sleepy face, his cock stirring beneath u !

“wanna play with you rafey…”

n your friends look all excited !! they wanna see their pretty lil innocent bestie get pounded out by the big bad rafe !!

🩰💓🌸୭

[orangesocksonmyeyes]

right side of my neck

bf!rafe cameron x gf!reader.

warnings: rafe cameron is a warning himself but depictions of anger issues, violence, grumpy x sunshine are also all included!!

rafe’s right hand rested on my thigh as his left one held the steering wheel. his grip on me was gentle, but the grip he had on the wheel made his already bruised knuckles turn white. i was worried it would cause them to bleed again. “rafe,” i said, gaining no response as he stared straight ahead at the road with a sharp expression on his face. i slid my hand on top of his that was on my thigh, interlocking our fingers. this seemed to catch his attention because he gave my hand a squeeze and glanced over at me.

his jaw unclenched. “sorry baby, what did you say?” he asked, his voice as calm as ever.

i knew that tone all too well. he was trying to keep me convinced that everything was fine, that he wasn’t angry anymore and that he definitely wasn’t going to do anything he shouldn’t. again.

the bruises on his knuckles always proved him otherwise.

“your knuckles,” i gestured with a nod, grazing my thumb across the back of his hand. “you’re gonna break the skin again.”

rafe sighed but loosened his grip on the wheel anyway. he gave me a glance once again. “don’t worry about me, how’s your cheek feel?”

oh right, i was hurt too. i instinctively raised a hand up to my face and winced as i grazed over the bruised area, the memories of what had happened flooding my head.

an hour earlier

the absence of rafe had already made the spot on the couch next to me colder, i wrapped my arms around myself in a hug. he had wandered off to find topper for reasons i wasn’t aware of, but he insisted i stay put. i assumed it was because he knew how much i hated parties. and crowds.

i was pulled from my thoughts when a weight sunk down in the seat next to me, close enough that our thighs were touching. i knew it wasn’t rafe without looking. my eyes trailed over to the man, who looked like an average frat guy. he had a scruffy face and a semi-lean frame. he smiled at me and i politely mumbled an “excuse me,” and scooted into the next open seat beside me. my heart dropped as he too, scooted down with me.

i cupped my clammy hands together, scanning the room for any familiar face. none. i didn’t want to run and risk the chance of him following me and catching me alone.

rafe will be back soon. i kept telling myself.

the man leaned a little closer, alcohol on his breath as he spoke. “what’s a pretty girl like you doing sittin’ here all alone?” he slurred out, throwing his arm across the back of the couch behind me. i leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees so i could lean as far away from his arm as possible.

he must’ve noticed my mannerisms because he frowned and let out a little grunt. “cmon, don’t be like that..” he traced a single finger across me shoulder and thats when i jerked away, slapping him in the face. it didn’t do much, except severely piss him off.

he hissed, gripping his cheek. “the fuck is your problem, bitch?” he yelled, gaining the attention of other party-goers as he stood and inched closer to my face. he shoved me by my shoulders to the floor, my face coming in contact with the table and opening a small gash on my cheek. i felt tears filling my eyes as the pain grew.

a couple people ran to my side and tended to me but not before gasping and jerking their heads back over to the man, causing me to do the same. rafe had the guy on the floor, straddling him as he switched from fist to fist, landing punches until blood could be seen literally pooling from the man’s mouth.

kelce and topper quickly appeared, immediately trying to pry rafe off the man. “rafe, let go!” topper pleaded, his expression frantic as he saw the man’s consciousness slowly start to fade. rafe eventually did, unwillingly of course. he harshly shrugged topper and kelce off of him as he stood, his chest heaving as he stared down at the guy. he dipped down, yanking the man’s head up by his collar so he could meet his eyes - though, i’m not sure if the man could even see him straight.

“i’ll fucking kill you, do you hear me? glance in her direction again.” he growled, dropping the guy’s collar, his head thumping as it hit the floor. he groaned in pain, turning to the side to cough up more blood.

rafe was beside me in seconds, the crowd immediately dispersing away from him after they had just witnessed what he was capable of. his hand cupped my uninjured cheek as he examined the other one. “you okay, baby?” he asked, stroking my hair and scanning my eyes for an answer.

i just nodded, a few stray tears slipping from my eyes. he sighed, pressing a kiss to my hair. “don’t cry,” he whispered against the strands.

present time

“does it hurt? keep pressure on it.” rafe insisted, his gaze on me more than the road at this point.

many ways that people assumed i was treated by rafe could never be more wrong. he was gentle, respectful, and extremely patient with me - despite how he was with others.

i held the warm rag close to my wound, fiddling anxiously with the holes of my jeans with my other hand. “rafe..” i said, continuing when he hummed in response. “you aren’t gonna.. do anything, right?” i asked, finally looking over at him. he was silent for a bit, which answered my question.

“i wouldn’t do anything that wasn’t deserved.” he said.

not the answer i wanted to hear.

i sighed, my eyes on the road as we turned on my street. rafe parked in front of my house and we both sat in silence. his eyes piercing through the side of my head.

“i don’t want you to do anything.” i finally said. “he got what he deserved, tonight. you can’t go back to jail, rafe. there’s no more warnings, you heard shoupe.” i looked at him. he was smirking.

that bastard snickered.

“you’re sweet,” he hummed, his hand reaching out to tuck my hair behind my ear. he leaned in, pecking my lips before pulling back to speak.

“i can easily get rid of shoupe too, baby.”

———————————————————————

srry if this seems rushed pls bare with me as this is my first public fic, usually i only write for myself and the voices in my head fr 😭

also keep in mind that i adjusted rafe’s personality (clearly) to fit a more romantic style 😏🙏

—

this is for @iwasunderduress bc she has begged me to post my ideas FOREVER 😊

[erwinsvow]

i have this entire fleshed out shy reader lore for i guess a hypothetical universe where shy reader dated jj and/or pope first but eventually they broke up because of the whole season one treasure plotline not even because of a lack of love but mostly just her feeling neglected and alone. right at the end of all of that is when she would meet rafe just when he’s in that season two craziness/spiral and they become so insanely codependent and just around there somewhere when the pogues hate rafe even more they find out he’s dating shy reader and it’s just a whole other layer. so basically obx writers let me into the room.

[stargrltara]

: ̗̀➛ dating rafe cameron .

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

[crookedteethed]

ᡣ𐭩 the good girl . • ° 　 .　 *　:.　the introduction (1)

synopsis -- Rafe is infatuated with you, his new secretary; something about a trip to Morocco. Rafe is in debt and wants you to pick up a bag of cocaine from Barry for him.

warnings: 18+ mdni mostly through Rafe's (perverted) pov, cursing, ward is still alive, smut but through fantasies, angst, Slight Dark! Rafe, drug/alcohol usage

a/n: I don't know anything about real estate so please don't take the buisness portions in this series seriously.

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter | word count: 3.2k

You and Rafe had four scheduled meetings together before noon, each one dragging on with the monotonous drone of old men discussing business.

Rafe, easily bored, found his attention drifting away from the discussions and towards you. He couldn't help but notice the delicate beauty marks scattered across your smooth crossed legs, a detail he had committed to memory by the third meeting.

He longed for your soft voice as he listened to the sound of flapping cheeks and tedious numbers being tossed back and forth. Every now and then, just to hear it, he would interrupt with a simple question in your ear: "You got that down?"

And in response, you would always give a respectful "Yes sir" or a subtle hum on quieter days.

Rafe would watch you intently as you quickly scribbled down notes about whatever mundane topic was being discussed by the mortgage broker--so you can recite to him later.

Despite the dullness of the meetings, he found himself amused by your presence and secretly looked forward to these moments shared between just the two of you.

And then, like clockwork, that smart ass Pope Hayward would lean in and whisper something in your ear, too, ruining everything for Rafe.

Hayward had worked for R&P, the mortgage brokers for Cameron Development, and would often attend their meetings. He always sat beside you, on the opposite side of Rafe, where he was conveniently hidden behind your body and out of Rafe's line of sight.

Rafe thinks this is a sneaky move on Hayward's part since Rafe had suspicions that Hayward may have a crush on you, which only fueled his anger towards Hayward and the meetings.

If Rafe ever discovered Heyward's true feelings for you, he wouldn't hesitate to resurrect the violence of their teenage years. He'd make you watch as he reminded Heyward exactly who you belonged to, letting Heyward's blood stain his thousand-dollar leather shoes. After all, what better way to prove his love than marking his expensive Italian leather with the consequences of wanting what's his? Some men send flowers – Rafe Cameron sends messages written in bruises and blood.

The boardroom felt thick with tension as Rafe's attention ping-ponged between the financial reports and the way Heyward kept leaning toward you. His knuckles turned white around his Mont Blanc pen every time Heyward whispered something in your ear, every time you smiled politely in response.

The irony wasn't lost on him – Heyward's own secretary sat barely three feet away, yet here he was, hovering over what belonged to Rafe. His secretary. His territory.

By the fourth meeting, Rafe found  himself on the brink of madness, his father, Ward Cameron, drawling tone grating on his nerves. 

Mentally detached, he fantasized about indulging in a line of cocaine to awaken his senses, only to have his mind wander to envisioning himself ravishing you right atop the conference table in full view of everyone. 

His imagination spiraled further, picturing the new maintenance girl he saw a couple nights ago, pleasuring you while you, upside down like a flipped turtle, sucking his cock. 

A sudden pang of guilt hit Rafe as he remembered that he needed to order another batch of his "special" supplies from Barry.

He wondered if you, his new secretary, would be willing to make the call for him. His former assistant would have handled it without question, but she was long gone now.

Rafe resumed thinking about you, him, and the maintenance girl having a very sexy threesome on the conference table; he's jolted back to the present as his father's voice rings out, drawing his attention to the press room, where every man's gaze is fixed on him. 

The gentle touch of your hand on the padded sleeve of his suit stirs him, and he feels like popping a boner from your warm touch. 

He asks Ward to repeat himself.

Ward's voice was agitated, his tone indicating his impatience with his son. "Rafe, I want you to deal with the Morocco situation," he repeated firmly.

Later on, Rafe fumed over his father's request in his newly personalized office. Rafe's response was harsh and tense as he spat at his father, "How fair is it to dump all of this on me?!"

He had initially been planning for a sleek, earthy-toned with a black and brown look for his office. But when you mentioned your preference for dark blue and white, Rafe couldn't resist. After all, he always looked delectable in those colors, you told him (and yes, delectable was the exact word you used). So Rafe dropped his original design and went with a nautical theme instead.

"Well, son," Ward's voice cut through the air like ice, "if you could tear your eyes away from your secretary for five minutes, you might understand why the Morocco deal is crucial for this company's future."

Rafe's jaw clenched. "I wasn't--"

"Save it," Ward interrupted, his calm facade cracking. "I've seen this before, Rafe. The way you look at her, how you've redecorated your entire office to her taste. Just like all the others." He leaned forward, voice dropping. "How many secretaries have we lost because of you? How many NDAs have I had to sign?"

The accusation hung heavy in the air. Rafe's hands curled into fists, his cerulean eyes darkening with something dangerous. "This one's different," he growled.

"That's what you said about the last one." Ward's laugh was bitter. "And the one before that. Face it, son - you're becoming predictable. By this time next month, I'll be interviewing replacements. Again."

"Look," Ward's voice dropped to a dangerous whisper, but Rafe wasn't about to let him finish that thought.

"No, you look," he spits at his father. "You're always pulling this crap on me - sending me off to do your dirty work like some kind of expendable pawn. 'Send Rafe to northwest Africa for two months, with our worst fucking clients' " Rafe said, fake laughing and clapping all the while." Well the joke's on me, isn't it?" Rafe's eyes blaze with anger and bitterness as years of resentment bubble to the surface.

The words flew out of Rafe's mouth like venomous arrows, each one stinging with a sharp and bitter rage. "You wouldn't dare do this to Sarah, dad--your perfect little princess. But me? I'm just the expendable son, right? Send me on a ten hour flight, unpaid, to fix someone else's mistakes!" His voice dripped with disdain as he imitated his father's words in a mocking tone.

But Ward was not cowed by his son's outburst. "Rafe, please just calm down and listen--"

Rafe's words were sharp as he cut Ward off. "Don't play dumb with me, Dad. I know exactly why you're sending me to South Africa - it's a punishment, a way to get rid of me." The tension in the office was thick and palpable as Ward yelled back, their argument echoing off the walls for all to hear.

But amidst the chaos, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of curiosity and nosiness. You had been waiting outside Rafe's office, ready to deliver an urgent message about his 3 o'clock lunch meeting with another Mortgage Broker, Dennis Rutherford.

As time ticked by and Rafe's chauffeured car waited impatiently outside, you knew you had to intervene before it was too late.

Bursting into the office uninvited, you were greeted with the sight of father and son locked in a heated battle, their words laced with anger and resentment. This was not just another work disagreement - this was a deep-rooted family conflict that threatened to tear them apart.

"I'm sorry, gentlemen." you awkwardly say, getting both men's attention. 

Had it been anyone else, Rafe would have immediately fired them for barging in like that. However, since it was you—and he hadn’t yet had the chance to sleep with you—Rafe merely shouted a sharp "What?!" that made you recoil in fear. He felt awful about your reaction but thought he could make it up to you later when his tongue is knee-deep into your pussy.

"Your 3'oclock, sir--with Mr.Rutherford." You say, trying to mask their intimidation.

"Shit." Rafe cursed, swiping a hand across his growing buzzed head. "Did you call the chauffeur?" he asked you. 

You acknowledge with a bow of your head, responding, Of course, sir, as you pass his briefcase into his hands. Rafe longed to refer to you as his good girl, yet with his father present in the room—and after already being seen openly "oogling" you earlier by his father and possibly others—he hesitated. 

While escorting Rafe from the office, he looks at you and remarks: 

"Join me and Rutherford for lunch."

Your heart races as you scramble to find an excuse. "I-I have a mountain of work to catch up on--"

"I don't recall asking you," he sneers, cutting you off. "I was telling you."

Twenty minutes past the scheduled meeting time, and Rafe had already downed three vodka shots, each one burning away at his paper-thin patience. The bar at Roots, despite its upscale pretense, felt suffocating.

You'd been to countless lunch meetings with him before, but something about today felt different. More dangerous. Maybe it was the way his leg kept brushing against yours under the bar, or how his cerulean eyes seemed to devour you between drinks.

Rafe Cameron, with his old money and expensive tastes, ordered another round. You watched, entranced despite yourself, as the alcohol stripped away his careful facade, revealing something raw and hungry underneath.

"Have a drink with me," he murmured, his voice honey-thick with liquor. His glazed eyes fixed on yours, holding secrets you weren't sure you wanted to understand.

"I believe one of us should stay sober, sir," you replied, fighting to keep your voice steady. The 'sir' slipped out automatically, and you watched his pupils dilate at the word.

A dark smile played at his lips as he closed his eyes, savoring your voice like another shot of vodka. Something about your presence seemed to intoxicate him more than the alcohol – a power that thrilled and terrified you in equal measure.

His hand found your knee under the bar, and you clutched your purse tighter, using it like a shield. Rafe noticed – he noticed everything about you – and his smile turned predatory.

"Just one drink," he pressed, sliding a virgin cocktail toward you. "Let go for me." The 'for me' sounded more like a claim than a request.

Forty-seven minutes in, Rutherford finally arrived to find Rafe thoroughly drunk and dangerously unraveled. The moment shattered as Rutherford launched into a tirade about debts – \$250,000 worth of them, spread across every loan shark in the city.

You shifted in your seat, uncomfortably aware of Rafe's heat beside you, the way his expensive cologne mixed with top-shelf vodka.

"The money's coming," Rafe slurred, but his eyes remained sharp, calculating. "Big deals in the pipeline. Major commissions."

Rutherford's lip curled in disgust. "Better hope so, Cameron. Or things get ugly."

The threat hung in the air like smoke. Rafe's fist clenched on the bar, his other hand still burning against your knee, his whole body vibrating with barely contained violence.

His thoughts scattered between the mounting pressure, the need for chemical escape, and the way your pulse jumped in your throat every time he leaned too close.

Without realizing it, Rafe grabbed your shoulder roughly and whispered in your ear, nearly dislocating your shoulder blade in the process.

Rafe's desperation was palpable as he leaned in closer, his voice a low murmur. "I need you to do something for me," he said, his eyes locked onto yours. "There's a guy named Barry. He's got something I need. I need you to pick it up for me."

Your heart raced as you realized what he was asking. "What is it?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

Rafe hesitated, his gaze shifting away. "It's a bag of cocaine," he admitted finally. "I need it to clear my head, to think straight. And I need it now."

You knew the risks, but Rafe's desperation was undeniable. He was in deep trouble, and he needed your help, as you looked in those glossy cerulean eyes of his. "Alright," you sighed, "I'll do it. But this is the last time, Mr. Cameron, what will your father think?"

"What he thinks of me already—that I'm just a Rafe, his screw-up of a son," Rafe replied. Despite this, a look of relief spread across his face, although the predatory gleam in his eyes remained. He fumbled in his pocket and pulled out a crumpled business card, pressing it into your palm with trembling fingers. His touch lingered longer than necessary, sending an involuntary shiver down your spine.

"Barry works out of the Bellamy Building on 5th," he whispered, his hot breath reeking of vodka against your ear. "Suite 401. Tell him Rafe sent you. And for God's sake, don't let anyone follow you."

Rutherford watched this exchange with cold calculation, his jaw clenched tight. He knew exactly what was happening – he'd seen plenty of rich boys like Rafe drag their employees into their mess before.

You gathered your things, trying to ignore how Rafe's eyes followed your every movement. Just as you stood to leave, he grabbed your wrist, his grip tight enough to bruise.

"One hour," he hissed. "I need it in one hour. Don't disappoint me."

The weight of what you'd agreed to settled heavy in your stomach as you walked toward the exit. Behind you, you could hear Rutherford's gravelly voice resume his threats, but Rafe's attention remained fixed on your retreating form until you disappeared through the door.

The Bellamy Building loomed like a tombstone against the afternoon sky, its worn brick facade a testament to forgotten glory. Inside, the elevator's slow climb gave you too much time to think – about Rafe's hungry cerulean eyes, his lingering touches that burned like brands, how every "yes, sir" seemed to draw you deeper into his web.

Suite 401 lurked at the end of a dimly lit hallway, distinguished only by tarnished brass numbers. Your knuckles rapped against the door – twice, then three times, just as Rafe had instructed. The sound seemed to echo down the empty corridor.

The door creaked open just enough to reveal a sliver of face: tired eyes beneath greasy long black hair, calculating and cold. "Barry?" Your voice emerged steadier than your racing heart. "Rafe Cameron sent me."

The door groaned wider. Barry matched his surroundings perfectly – disheveled but alert, like a crow picking through society's remains. His office was a study in decay: nicotine-stained walls, flickering fluorescent lights that made everything look diseased, and an ancient desk that had witnessed too many secrets.

"Well, well," Barry's lips curved into something that wasn't quite a smile. "Another one of Rafe's girls." He studied you like a specimen under glass. "You know, you're all starting to blur together. Pretty. Proper. Corruptible." The last word dripped with dark amusement.

He slid a small package across the desk, but when you reached for it, his fingers trapped yours. You jerked the package away.

Inescapably, Barry's raspy laugh followed you as you ascended down the hallway, bouncing off the grimy walls like a bad omen. "Tell Rafe his debt's getting steep," he called after you, his voice dripping with dark amusement. "And honey? Better watch yourself! Pretty secretaries like you have a way of… disappearing around Rafe Cameron."

Barry's laughter echoed through the grimy hallway, following you like a shadow as you rushed toward the elevator. Each click of your heels against the worn floor seemed to mock you: Pretty. Proper. Corruptible. The words burrowed into your mind, mixing with memories of Rafe's heated stares and possessive touches.

Your mind kept circling back to Barry's words – "disappearing around Rafe Cameron" – like a moth drawn to a deadly flame. The phrase echoed in your head, mixing with memories of Rafe's possessive touches and hungry stares. Each floor the elevator descended seemed to bring a new question: How many secretaries came before you? Where did they really go?

The package felt heavier in your hands as you realized maybe it wasn't just cocaine Rafe was addicted to – maybe it was the thrill of watching people fall into his web, one pretty secretary at a time.

The elevator doors couldn't close fast enough. In its mirrored walls, your reflection looked different somehow – as if Barry's words had marked you, changed you. Your phone buzzed in your purse, Rafe's name lighting up the screen, and you realized with a shiver that maybe Barry was right. Maybe you were already corrupted – after all, here you were, picking up cocaine for your boss in a building that reeked of broken dreams and dirty money.

But that didn't mean you were corrupted by Rafe specifically… right? This was just part of the job. Just another task, like scheduling meetings or taking notes while he stared at you across the conference table. Just another "yes, sir" in a long line of things you told yourself were purely professional. Even if your heart raced every time he got too close. Even if you kept saying yes to things that crossed every line you'd ever drawn.

You were just doing your job. At least, that's what you kept telling yourself.

Back at Roots, you found Rafe alone, Rutherford's absence heavy in the air. His hands trembled as you passed him the package under the bar, his relief palpable. Without a word, he grabbed your wrist and led you to the private bathroom in the back.

The fluorescent light buzzed overhead as Rafe arranged neat lines on the marble countertop. You turned to leave, but he caught your reflection in the mirror.

"Stay," he commanded softly. Then, more vulnerable: "Please."

You watched as he inhaled sharply, his body relaxing as the cocaine hit his system. When he straightened up, his eyes met yours in the mirror – pupils blown wide, but somehow clearer than before.

"Barry mentioned the money you owe him," you say carefully, your voice echoing off the pristine walls of the family restroom. The fluorescent lights cast harsh shadows across Rafe's sharp features as he straightens up from the sink, wiping his nose with the back of his hand.

Suddenly, the mood shifts. His cocaine-induced sniffles transform into something that sounds devastatingly like tears.

"You know what scares me?" Rafe says slowly, his cerulean eyes never leaving your reflection. "Not the money I owe. Not my father. Not even my fucking addiction." His voice cracks perfectly – a rehearsed break he's perfected over years of practice.

"I'm nothing but Dad's fuck-up son. A disappointment. A monster." He laughs bitterly, running a trembling hand through his hair. "But you… god, you're different. You're so good, so perfect. The best secretary I've ever had." His voice drops to a reverent whisper. "The way you anticipate my needs, how you handle everything with such grace. The only one who's ever really seen me, really understood."

His fingers trace your reflection in the mirror, and his eyes darken with something dangerous. "You're too pure for this world, too good for someone like me. The way you look at me like I could be better… like I'm worth saving…" He shakes his head, voice thick with manufactured emotion. "It kills me knowing I'll destroy you too. Just like I destroy everything else I touch. But god, you make me want to try to be better."

Your heart ached at his words. Without thinking, you reached up to touch his cheek, your palm cradling his face as if you could hold his broken pieces together. "You're drunk Mr. Cameron, you don't mean any of these things do you?"

"Rafe," he interrupted, leaning into your touch like a starved man finding sustenance. "Please… just call me Rafe." His cerulean eyes bore into yours with an intensity that made your breath catch.

But you noticed, even through the haze of this intimate moment, how Rafe never actually answered your question. Like everything else with him, the vulnerability was a beautiful distraction from the truth.

You saw the vulnerability in his eyes, the pain, the self-loathing. It made you want to save him, to prove him wrong about himself. And that's exactly what he was counting on.

Because what you missed, in that moment of compassion, was the calculating gleam behind his tears. The slight upturn of his lips as you fell perfectly into place. The way his hand tightened possessively on your waist, marking you as his next conquest.

"I know I can be a lot sometimes, but I need you to stay my secretary, whatever happens," he whispered against your palm, each word carefully chosen to ensnare you further. His lips brush your skin as he speaks, making the moment feel more intimate than it should. "Because you're the only person in my life who sees me. Really sees me."

The confession lands exactly as he intended – a perfect mix of vulnerability and need that makes it impossible to refuse him. Rafe knows what he's doing, dropping these words like anchors to keep you tethered to him, and the worst part is that it's working.

You hadn't known exactly what Rafe meant by that "Really sees me"--or any of the other drunken babble, but seeing as he was clearly heavily intoxicated, and needed your comfort, that didn't matter now. You whispered back words of comfort, of understanding, unaware that each soothing word was another step deeper into Rafe Cameron's carefully laid trap.

Meanwhile, Rafe Cameron smiled into your palm – a predatory curve of lips that you couldn't see from your angle, the kind of smile that should have warned you that comfort was the last thing he actually needed.

The bathroom's fluorescent light flickered once, casting strange shadows across his face. In that brief moment of darkness, his mask slipped, revealing something hungry and triumphant in his expression. But by the time the light steadied again, all you could see was the broken man you desperately wanted to fix.

After all, the best predators know exactly how to play wounded.

a/n: thanks for making it to the end of this chapter!! as always all likes comments, and reblog keeps me motivated! 💕🫶🏾

Taglist -

@trapistani @alexxavicry @rafestoothbrush @ttrinity @jjmaybankmylovee @slut4rafey @Itristessedureratoujours @hittmeandtellmeyouremine @yoongling @lilithblackkk

[eraenaa]

So High School

Inspired by the song "So High School" by Taylor Swift

Athlete Rafe Cameron x Scholarly Reader Tag List

Summary: He knows how to ball, you know Aristotle

Warnings: Jealousy, Dry-Humping, Fluff, Not Proofread 

Word Count: 4,638

A/N: Re-upload because I wanted to add a bit of spice and a few more elements inspired by the song. And I wanted to clarify that the Rafe here is heavily inspired by Zach Maclaren

You’ve never considered yourself as a cliche. You did love to read, watch, and think about cliches, you would sigh longingly when you see the differing variations be reproduced in media. The kisses in the rain, the jocks getting with the nerds, the popular girls kissing the geeky boys. All of them were great in theory, but you could never see yourself taking part in one of them. Not until you met him. Rafe Cameron.

You’ve never had a high school romance, nothing that even resembled it. If you recall your high school days, nothing remote to a teenage romance was achieved. You went to balls without a date, only the company of your friends; no flings were made nor ambiguous relationships achieved and could be added to your trophy case. You were not even certain you had a crush— sure, you would find someone attractive, but not so much that you would look forward each day to seeing them in the halls or classroom. It sounds horrid and sad now that you say it out loud or when you share it with any of your uni friends, but you truly did not mind. You were just not destined to have a high school romance. 

In truth, you preferred it that way. You’d rather avoid immature attachments. The shallow jealousy and petty fights you had witnessed over and over again. However, you were always curious about how they felt. How did it feel to look forward to going to school to see the one you liked or even loved? How did it feel to be a blushing mess just because they glanced back at you? What did it feel like to hold the person you wanted’s hand as you walked down the hall? What was it like to have your friends tease you for being so love-struck that it went straight to your heads? How does it feel to be down bad for someone while still being filled with the naivety of youth? But you suppose you don’t have to wonder at all anymore. The cliche things they say in the movies; your stomach filled with butterflies, your heart pounding hard on your chest, your skin tingling with electricity— you thought were just exaggerated reactions, romanticizing further the romances they produce, but they were right. Those are the exact things you felt with Rafe. 

You never saw him coming. He was an exchange student from the States, admitted into your university’s football team. He was a few years older, but with his commitment to the sport, he was taken back a few years and started off in the second year. He was your seatmate on the third day of class of the term. He took a seat by your right and sheepishly asked you for a pen at the start of the lecture. You were set to mind your own business, lend him the pen, and focus on the lecture, but you could not help but notice him leaning closer to you, trying to copy down the notes you typed furiously on your laptop. You thought twice before you decided to be a good samaritan, shifting your laptop screen more clearly toward his view. 

You tried not to get in between him and the professor as he was grilled to answer a question about Aristotle’s Poetics, the whole class’ eyes upon him as he stuttered and flailed to answer the lecturer’s question. You sighed and bit your lip, quickly typing up the answer as he was being shamed by your professor for not doing the readings. You tugged at the hem of his shirt, motioning for him to look at the screen and recite out loud the answer you had written. “Thank you,” Rafe whispered, leaning closer to you, who saved him from further embarrassment. You just nodded, but Rafe did not return to his place; he kept the rather close proximity of the both of you for the rest of the class. You just took his actions as his way of copying more of your notes.

When the class ended, you quickly gathered your things and tried to exit the lecture hall, but Rafe blocked your way. “I’m Rafe, by the way,” he introduced himself, letting out his hand for you to shake. You did, and he swore he felt electricity at your touch; you, too had felt it but mistook it for static. You quickly introduced yourself and tried to sidestep to get to your next class, but he was quick to block you again. “I just wanted to say thank you again,” Rafe said, trying to catch your eye, but it kept flying towards the door. You flash him a small and almost forced smile, “It’s just recitation. It’s no problem.” You said and finally looked him in the eyes. You felt your heart stutter at the smile that crossed his lips, and you once again mistook it for something else, anxiety, perhaps that you might be late to your next class that was all the way on the other side of the campus in a building without an elevator and your classroom conveniently placed on the top floor. 

That was when you noticed that Rafe had still not let go of your hand, nor did he have the intention of letting you go too quickly. “I’m sorry, not to be rude or anything, but I really have to go to my next class,” you say, the tone of your voice a bit frantic so he’d buy into the guilt and finally let go of your hand. Rafe bit his tongue to prevent a grin from slipping his lips; you had the most melodious voice and the most adorable accent he heard while he stayed in your country. “Yeah, no problem… see you next week,” Rafe finally unblocked your path and let go of your hand, watching as you hastily walked out of the classroom, leaving him grinning at himself like a fool. 

You were walking down the halls of your university the next day. Your headphones covered your ears and made you a tad oblivious to the surroundings around you. Rafe caught you by the side of his eye, and quickly ended the conversation he was having with his friends to get to you. He was calling your name, avoiding the sea of students who were venturing to their next class. Everyone’s head turned to him, their attention on him as he called for you, but you were oblivious to him. Rafe finally caught up behind you, grabbing the headband of your headphones to finally get your attention. You yelped in surprise at the sudden actions, turning behind you, ready to take the blow of your attacker, but you were only met with Rafe, who had an amused grin by our wide-eyed and startled state. 

You breathe out a quiet sigh of relief when you realize it was not a complete stranger who had done that abrupt and rather rude action. You watch with a slight furrow in your brow as Rafe wears your headphones, momentarily listening to the song you were listening to. “What is this?” He asked with a confused look, “Patti Smith,” You answered as he returned to you your headphones. “Never heard of him,” Rafe shrugged, and you bit your tongue, “He’s a she,” You said and looked around the corridor only to realize that the two of you stood by the middle of it. Earning curious and even annoyed glances from other students because you and Rafe obstructed the pathway. You stepped to the side, and Rafe followed; you looked up at him in curiosity, “Did you need something?” You asked, wanting an explanation from him for startling you in the middle of the hallway. 

“I…” Rafe trailed, not truly having a concrete reason for calling for you. “Uh… where are you going?” He asked instead, and you felt your brows twitch into a quick frown before you recomposed your expression. “The library,” you say, and he nods. “Come on, then,” He said, taking hold of the handle of your shoulder bag and carrying it for you. Your lips agape, not at all certain what is happening; you watch him walk a few steps forward, but he stops in his tracks and turns to you. “You might wanna lead the way; I’m kinda new here,” You bit your lip as you wanted to laugh. You nodded, and the two of you walked side by side on the way to the library. 

“What’s your degree?” You asked him as you walked through the hallowed halls of your university. Rafe still carried your bag, and you could not help but notice the curious glances pointed at the two of you. “Finance,” you nodded but grew rather curious as to what he was doing in your literature class, so you then proceeded to ask him the question swirling in your mind. “Oh… I ran out of units; either I take that class or be underloaded,” he shrugged and opened the door of the library for you. “So you have no idea nor interest about what we were talking about the other day?” You asked and felt your stomach weirdly twist when he pulled out the chair for you and assisted you to sit. “Not really, no,” He said and took a seat across from you. “Thanks again, by the way, for giving me the answer,” Rafe said in gratitude once more. You flashed a quick smile and took your bag from him, taking out the readings for your other class. It took a few minutes of you reading your course material before you realized that Rafe was just sitting there, watching you. “Don’t you have any requirements to do?” You asked him, eyes locking with clear ocean blue ones. “Nope,” he shook his head, his lips popping the ‘p.’ 

“Then what are you doing here…?” You asked. Rafe refrained from letting his grin turn wider. He just shrugged and watched you furrow your brows; a cute little pout of confusion appeared on your lips. He was uncertain if you were truly oblivious or just pretending to be. What was supposed to be a productive day of reading and staying above your requirements turned into a day of laughing fits and jokes. You both tried to stifle your laughs caused by your random conversations and anecdotes, but it was proven impossible, resulting in both of you being ushered out of the library. “Oh god—“ You laughed as you recalled the stern look of the librarian as they pushed you and Rafe out. In other circumstances, you might have died in embarrassment for having to be escorted out of the library, but somehow, right now, you felt thrilled. 

Rafe watched you as your laughs died down. His gaze studied the crinkle on your nose and the sides of your eyes, the way you would bite down on your lip to stifle them, but it would be to no avail because your melodious laughs still blessed his ears. “Do you want to go to grab lunch?” Rafe suddenly asked, and your laughs finally halted. You looked up at him, his expecting gaze on you, hopefulness in his ocean-blue eyes that you could not shatter. You smiled and nodded, your heart stuttering when he took the bag on your shoulder once more. His warm hand brushes with your skin, causing a jolt of electricity in you that you never thought could happen. You followed him out of campus, your mind in a hazy battlefield as to where this was leading. 

You bit your lip as Rafe waved at you during their practice; you could barely make out his face through the obstruction of his helmet, but you would guess there was a boyish grin on his lips. It had been a week since the incident in the library, and quickly after that, you two found a deeper understanding between each other. You realize the cliche they insisted upon that said ‘you'll find love when you least expect it’ was quite true. You never expect to meet anyone like Rafe. 

“There you are,” you hear your friend arrive, having him see you on the football field because he needed to brow your notes for a class. “What are you even doing here? I practically had to drag you here the last time I wanted to watch a game,” He asked in deep confusion, entirely uncharacteristic of you to be by the field. “Uhm…” you trailed, not having told him about Rafe yet. “I met someone,” You started, watching as his eyes grew wide in surprise. “A player?” He asked, and you nodded, “Which one?” He asked in great interest. You squinted your eyes and looked for Rafe’s number, not wanting to have to point. “The one from the States!? You’re dating a Yank?” He asked as if it was a scandal. “A Yank? Seriously? They’ve stopped calling Americans that for almost a century,” You said, trying not to laugh.

Rafe turned to you, surprised you were no longer alone on the benches. Instead, you were laughing along with some dude who sat a bit closer to you. It made him rather… curious. A good alternative feeling as he did not want to overstep with his emotions and admit to himself that he was quick to grow jealous. “Hey, good game, mate,” Rafe’s teammate complimented and clapped his back, and he returned the compliment, but he could not help but notice that his teammate’s gaze was flying over to you. “What is it?” Rafe asked as he removed his gloves, "Are you… with her?” He asked hesitantly, and Rafe turned to you, who was still enveloped in conversation with the man who was a stranger to him. 

“Yes.” He said even though it was too soon and neither of you had a discussion about where the week of dates you two went on would lead. Rafe watched as his teammate’s brows shot up in surprise. “Do you know her?” Rafe asked, and his teammate nodded. “Yeah, I went to secondary school with her,” He said, and Rafe was in the midst of thinking another question to ask when his teammate spoke once more. “Good luck to you; the word is she has very high standards. A bit stuck up if you ask the other lads in our school.” His teammate and Rafe frowned in confusion. “What?” He asked, “Yeah. She was notorious in our school for being the girl no one could get. A lot of blokes fancied her rotten, but not once did she pay them mind. She was never in any relationships or flings, for that matter— and if I remember correctly, she did not even take a date to the balls.” Rafe’s teammate explained, his gaze flying to you, remembering how the boys at your school would always follow you around or try to get your attention, but you’ve always ignored them. “Anyway, congrats to you, I guess. Never knew her type were Yanks,” Rafe heard his teammate mutter and once again clapped his back before leaving. 

You turn away from your friend as you hear Rafe approaching, flashing him your beaming smile that you only bestowed upon the most deserving of people. You’ve only known him a week, but you felt that your genuine smile was made to be pointed at him and as well be caused by him. “You ready to go?” Rafe asked, ignoring the presence of the guy who sat next to you because he knew himself, and if he acknowledged the guy next to you, his jealousy might shine through. “Uh… yeah, this is my friend, by the way,” You say as you see Rafe was a bit reserved at the moment. “Hey,” your friend greeted and stretched out his hand for Rafe to shake, “Hey,” he muttered and barely turned to your friend. There was a pause of steely, awkward silence that you were not certain the cause of. “I’m gonna go… thanks for the notes,” Your friend quickly excused himself, and you turned to Rafe. “Are you okay?” You asked, and you heard him let out a grieved exhale. “Uh, yeah, just tired,” he fibbed, not wanting to bring out the subject of his jealousy that was quick to stew. 

“Oh, that’s a pity. My friend you’ve just met— he and his boyfriend are throwing a party tonight and I was gonna ask you if you wanted to come. But if you need to rest, that’s completely fine,” You said and watched as his lips agape slightly, “He… he has a boyfriend?” He asked slowly, realizing his jealousy was completely out of place. “Erm, yeah, why?” You asked and found it odd how the almost grumpy expression on his face quickly turned into a smile. “Nothing. Of course I’ll come with you to the party,” Rafe smiled and draped his arm around your shoulder as you two walked off the stands. 

You came to the party with the thought that perhaps you could help Rafe mingle with the others in your year. He could find other friends in this foreign land, but as cliche as it was, you two were lost in each other. Everything faded, and all the two of you could focus on was each other. It was later in the night when you and Rafe’s close proximity was interrupted by your friend. “Come on, we’re going to play spin the bottle,” Your friend pulled at you, who reluctantly stood and stepped away from Rafe. “Spin the bottle? Isn’t that a bit juvenile?” You asked as you were forced to sit on the floor; Rafe was being led by your friend’s significant other to sit across from you. He flashed you his charming smile. You bit your tongue to not let the giddiness in you shine through.

“Rules first,” Your friend replied. “As always, whoever the bottle lands to, you must kiss that person, but if you do not want to, you can play for truth or dare. Your friend says, and all in the circle nod. “Okay then. Who goes first?” Rafe asked, and you turned to your friend, “Well, seeing you are the guest here in our lovely land, you get the honor to go first,” Rafe shrugged and smirked, leaning forward to spin the bottle and prayed that it would land on you, it didn’t. You turned to where the bottle pointed to a girl from your secondary school who licked her lips and looked positively excited at the prospect of kissing Rafe. You bit your lip and sat quietly in your seat, making sure that your face was rid of any reaction. 

Rafe warily shifted his gaze between you and the girl, “I’ll do a truth,” he announced and saw from the corner of his eyes as the strange girl pouted and her shoulders deflated in rejection. “A truth it is,” Your friend said; there was a quick silence whilst he thought of a question. “Why did you choose truth?” They asked Rafe, and you fiddled with your fingers, raising your gaze towards the boy you had been seeing for the past week but had no label to call him. “Just… just didn’t want a kiss,” He shrugged, his gaze flying to you, who quickly avoided his. “Okay then, next,” Your friend said, and you waited for your turn, already knowing in yourself you’d skip the kiss part if it did not land on Rafe. 

“Truth or dare?” You were asked and paused for a moment. Usually, you would quickly pick ‘truth’, not having the nerves to choose the other option, but somehow, right now, you were leaning towards picking ‘dare’, so that is what you had done. You hear ‘oohs’ from your friends, surprised by your boldness. “Dare, then. Okay… I dare you to kiss the person you fancy in this circle the most,” Someone cruelly said, and your eyes widened, cheeks blooming with color as you quickly regretted your choice. “No! I chose ‘dare’ to skip the kissing part! That’s unfair,” You countered, but they only shrugged and replied with “Rules are rules,” 

You pursed your lips and looked around the circle. You already knew who you wanted to kiss, but you lacked the courage to do so. “Okay, everyone, close your eyes, and you pick who you want to kiss,” Your friend decided, showing you kindness, for he knew that the situation was quite too much for you. Rafe chewed on his cheeks, heart beating loudly in his chest, praying to anyone who would hear that you would choose him. 

You took a deep breath and glanced as everyone had their eyes closed. You gathered whatever courage and nerve you had to stand from your seat and lean closer to Rafe. Admiring his handsome face for a moment before placing a quick, chaste kiss at the corner of his lips. You feel him twitch in surprise, and you quickly return to your seat as he opens his ocean-blue eyes. His lips were agape in shock, and he was being tugged into a wide smile that showcased his dimples. His eyes crinkled as he beamed at you, filled with romantic giddiness. The game went through a few more rounds until everyone eventually got bored, and you and Rafe were left in each other’s company once more. 

The music was blaring; the chatter was loud, but not a single noise was heard by the two of you as you had been enveloped in conversation. You quickly grew entranced by how random your topics were. It could be a deep, philosophical engagement, one where you were both perplexed and engrossed by the subject, then the next, you were clutching your stomach because you were laughing so hard at one of his jokes.

“Where’d everybody go?” Rafe suddenly asked as he reluctantly rested his gaze on anything else other than you. Your lips agape as you saw the flat was cleared out, the remnants of the party and the mess it caused still present but not those who had caused it. You let out a bubbling laugh as you two were now the only ones present; not even the hosts of the party could be accounted for. “We should probably go home, huh,” You say, your eyes shifting between Rafe’s gaze and the floor that was riddled with confetti and spilled drinks. “Yeah, come on, I’ll walk you home,” He said as he stood, reaching out his hand for you to take as he assisted you to stand. 

“Rafe,” You called as you two stood by the entrance of your flat. “Yes, pretty girl?” He asked with a grin, and you bit your lip to hinder yourself from grinning like a lovestruck fool. You took a deep breath before you spoke, “Not to sound so high school, but I… I really like you,” You confessed. You did not know how to relay how you felt seeing he was the first one to spur this type of giddiness in you. You gazed up at him, watching as his eyes twinkled with mirth and the smile on his lips widened. You held your breath as he leaned in and kissed your lips. It was a chaste kiss, just like the one earlier, but it was still capable of leaving you both grinning. 

Your eyes alight with newfound affection as you and he stood below the pale moonlight. You sighed happily as Rafe placed his warm hand on your cheek, caressing your skin before ultimately leaning in to kiss you once more. A different, more fervent, and deeper kind of kiss than the first one shared. You feel your heart flutter and your body turn warm as his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you flush towards him. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him downwards to your height, feeling him smirk against your lips.

When you parted for air, you bit your lip as a wide, cheek-aching smile spread upon it. “I think like you more,” He said against your lips. You knew it was a line, a cheesy one at that, but your stomach flipped in violent delight, and you stood on your toes to feel his lips against yours again. “Do… do you wanna go in?” You asked him as your lips parted again, your mind spinning from the way he kissed you and pulled on your waist. “Yes,” he said a bit too eagerly, the tips of his ears growing red a he realized the slight desperation in his voice, but you simply found it endearing. 

When in the privacy of your flat, you grinned against Rafe’s lips as he gently pushed you against the wall, his large frame flushed against yours. Your fingers reached to run themselves through his hair as his hands on your waist strayed hesitantly higher. “You sighed as his lips moved to place kisses on your neck, “I hope you know I didn’t offer to walk you home for this,” Rafe sighed against your neck, breathing deeply your scent as his need for you bulged painfully in his jeans. “I know,” You smiled and whimpered as you felt him nip your skin. 

You were not certain if you should warn him of the truth that you’ve never done anything such as this and that you have never reached this level of intimacy with anyone. But you swallowed the words as you feared you would run him away. You gasped as Rafe effortlessly hoisted you on his waist. Your mind spun as he deeply kissed you and led you to your sofa, him sitting on the cushion and you straddling his waist. You panted as you felt his need against your core. 

Rafe swallowed thickly as he gazed at you, your lips swollen and eyes filled with need for him. “I… I don’t have protection,” He sheepishly, regrettably said, and you could blink. “Oh,” Was all you could say, uncertain if you should move from the position you both were in even though your body screamed for you to stay put. “I’m sorry, I—“ He started to speak, and you shook your head, “No, don’t be,” You rested your palm on his chest and felt the erratic beating of his heart, a rhythm that matched yours. Rafe took in a deep breath and lowered his gaze as if in shame; you chewed on your lip and spoke. “Maybe uhm… maybe we could do something else?” 

“Like what?” He asked hesitantly; you couldn’t really verbalize your intent, so instead, you showed it to him. Rafe’s jaw slacked as you started to grind your hips, your core rubbing against his length. You hid your face in the crook of his neck and placed small kisses on his skin as you tried to stifle your sighs of pleasure. 

Rafe’s hands found home at your rear, guiding and aiding your movements. Rafe let out a hiss as he felt himself quickly be led to climax. You finally vocalized your moans as you, too, were on the precipice of your peak; your hand moved to grip Rafe’s dark blonde locks as you came, calling his name. Rafe moved to take your face into his hands and intertwine your lips as he came undone, his seed spilling out in his trousers. He never thought he could come undone so harshly with ought actually being touched by someone. 

When your lips parted, and the hazy want in you subsided, you grinned widely at Rafe, who let out an amused breath. The both of you stayed silent, but Rafe’s thoughts screamed loudly in his head. Would it be cliché of him to say that he had fallen so quickly? That seeing you in the lecture hall was love at first sight, and now, even only knowing you for only a short time, he knew you were the one. 

[sarahskakskskskajakwwnwjw]

can someone please make a long story about y/n waking up in a new place and she finds out she’s blocked in a type of hell with the most dangerous psychopaths every like void-stiles, rafe cameron, kai, klaus mikealson, tom and mattheo riddle, joker, AND SHE ENDS UP WITH SOME OR ALL OF THEM?? like yes please

like oh my god please i beg you i can’t be the only one with this fantasy i wish i was good at writing i would’ve make the most coolest, filthiest, dirtiest smut ever with all of those men.

[sslovqm]

NO ESCAPE — rafe cameron

WARNING : This story contains depictions of emotional harassment, physical and psychological violence, manipulation, explicit threats, obsessive behavior, and a scene involving physical danger and confinement. Reader discretion is advised.

The clock read 10:47 p.m., and the restaurant was deserted. Only the low hum of the refrigerator and the rhythmic sound of the broom as Y/N swept across the floor could be heard. The dim lights in the restaurant reflected her tiredness; it had been a long day, but for her, it was worth it. Working gave her a sense of independence that few understood, especially the Kooks.

She had spent months avoiding everything related to Rafe Cameron. After their breakup, he hadn’t stopped looking for her, insisting on talking to her, but Y/N refused. Her heart still bore the scars of their relationship, and the last thing she needed was for him to show up again.

When she heard the jingle of the bell on the door, she thought that perhaps some clueless customer had walked in. However, when she looked up, her body tensed at the sight of Topper Thornton entering with that mocking smile he always wore.

“Topper?” What are you doing here?” he asked, frowning as he set the broom aside.

“Well, well…” Topper drawled as he looked around in disdain. “So it’s true? Y/N, Rafe Cameron’s ex-girlfriend, working like a pogue.”

She sighed, rolling her eyes tiredly. She had no energy for his comments.

“Because of people with such a withdrawn mentality, the world is the way it is, Topper,” she replied indifferently, turning her back and returning to her task.

Topper let out a dry, sarcastic laugh, crossing his arms.

“And how do you think Rafe would react if he knew his precious Y/N was working here, staying up late by herself?” he asked in a mocking tone, enjoying every word.

Y/N dropped the broom, quickly turning to him. Her face was pale, and her eyes showed genuine fear.

“Topper, please don’t say anything. Really…” she pleaded, feeling a knot in her stomach.

He shrugged, smirking.

“Too late.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat when the restaurant door opened again, and there he was: Rafe Cameron, with that smile she knew so well, a mix of mockery and possessiveness. His blue gaze caught her like it always did, but this time she didn’t feel love, only fear.

“What, honey?” Rafe said in a soft but venomous voice. “You didn’t think you could escape me, did you?”

Topper walked past him, patting him on the shoulder before leaving.

“Have a good time, buddy.” And he walked out, leaving Y/N alone with Rafe.

“Topper, don’t go!” she yelled, but the door closed behind him.

Before she could move, she heard the door lock click. Rafe had closed it.

“Rafe, I…” she began, taking a step back.

“Shh,” he interrupted her, slowly approaching. “I’ve been patient, you know? I gave you space. But now, sweetheart, there are no more games.”

Y/N felt the air grow thicker. She was trapped, and for the first time in a long time, she didn’t know how to get out.

“Rafe, please let me go. This doesn’t have to be like this…” she whispered, trying to calm him, though her voice was shaking.

He stopped in front of her, leaning down a little to look her straight in the eyes.

“Let you go?” he repeated, with a crooked smile. “That was never an option, Y/N. It never will be.”

She gulped, knowing that tonight would change everything.

Y/N backed away slowly, trying to stay calm as her eyes desperately searched for something she could use as a defense. The restaurant seemed like a small, cramped place suddenly, every corner a trap.

“What do you want, Rafe?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

“I want you. I’ve always wanted you, Y/N. But you decided you could just walk away, didn’t you? Like everything we had was… optional.” His tone was getting deeper, and his eyes were shining with a dangerous mix of obsession and anger.

Rafe took a step closer to her, forcing her back until her back hit the counter. Y/N flinched, her hands shaking as she tried to keep her composure.

“You can’t keep going like this, Rafe. This isn’t right. You need help, someone who—”

“I don’t need help!” he shouted, slamming a closed fist on the counter, causing her to jump slightly. Her face was flushed, and the tension in her jaw made it obvious she was struggling to control her emotions.

Y/N tried to move to the side, but Rafe quickly blocked her, cornering her against the counter. His breathing was heavy, and the air was thick with an implicit threat that made it impossible for her to think clearly.

“All of this…” he said, pointing her up and down. “This pathetic job, these lonely nights. Did you really think you could just walk away from me, live like a pogue, and I would just let you go?”

She couldn’t stop the tears from building up in her eyes, but she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of crying in front of him. She straightened her back and looked at him bravely.

“I’d rather do this than be with you, Rafe. I’d rather do anything than be with you again.”

Her words seemed to break something inside him. Her mocking smile disappeared, replaced by an expression of pure rage. Before she could react, Rafe grabbed her wrist tightly, pulling her towards him.

“Don’t talk about me like that, Y/N. I gave you everything. Everything. And you repay me like this.”

“Leave me, Rafe!” she screamed, struggling against his grip, but he was too strong.

Rafe pushed her against the counter harder, his face dangerously close to hers.

“I warned you not to play with me, didn’t I?” he said, his voice low but laced with anger. With his other hand, he slid a lock of hair from her face, a gesture that should have been affectionate, but now felt cold and calculated.

Y/N felt the tears begin to fall, and her fear grew as he pushed her to the ground, pinning her down.

“Rafe, please, this doesn’t have to be like this. Please…” she pleaded, her voice cracking.

But Rafe didn’t seem to be listening. He was lost in his own madness, his eyes shining with an intensity that terrified her.

“If you can’t be mine, Y/N, then you won’t be anyone’s.”

She struggled with all her might, clawing, kicking, screaming, hoping someone would listen. She managed to reach him with a punch to the face, giving him a few seconds to break free and run to the door.

But the lock was still on.

Before she could remove it, she felt Rafe grab her again, throwing her to the ground hard. Her head hit the floor, and the world began to spin as he leaned over her, his breathing erratic and his gaze completely unhinged.

“You can’t escape me, Y/N. You never will.”

At that moment, the lights of a car briefly illuminated the interior of the restaurant, and the headlights stopped right in front of the door. The sound of someone getting out of the vehicle made Rafe pause for a moment, his gaze shifting to the window.

Y/N, though stunned, took advantage of the distraction to scream at the top of her lungs.

“Help! Please, someone, help me!”

The door shook from outside, and a familiar voice called out her name. It was JJ, accompanied by Kie.

“Rafe, get away from her!” JJ screamed, slamming the door hard.

For an instant, Y/N saw the doubt on Rafe’s face, but he didn’t loosen his grip.

“This isn’t over, Y/N,” he whispered with a crooked smile, letting go just before running to the back of the restaurant.

When JJ and Kie finally entered, they found Y/N on the floor, shaking and with tears in her eyes. JJ quickly knelt down beside her, wrapping her in a protective hug.

“It’s over, Y/N. You’re safe now.”

But she knew that wasn’t true. As she felt JJ’s arms around her, she couldn’t stop thinking about Rafe’s last words.

“This isn’t over.”

[rotteneldritchhorror]

Barry making Rafe feel pretty with scars and marks and “facials”

Rafe making Barry feel pretty by petting/playing with his hair and clinging to him constantly and getting close specifically to smell him