#rafe cameron x pogue reader

[leanastarkey]

GUYS SHOULD I START WRITING FICS?? Lmk if u want my first fic to be :

Idk if i write smut bcs im not really good at those details tho 😨😨

BTW DO U WANT IT TO BE A JJ OR RAFE FIC??

[cockslutpadalecki]

Boy On Film

Summary: You’ve been trying to put the events that lured you into Rafe’s path behind you, but he’s not ready to let you forget.

Characters: Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader.

Words: 2.7K.

Warnings: dub-con, mentions of past non-con, explicit sexual content, unsolicited dick pics, Rafe being a smug asshole, male masturbation, manipulation, blackmail, female masturbation, slight Stockholm Syndrome/trauma bonding, 18+.

A/N: Part two to Girl On Film. Due to popular demand, I’m posting this earlier than planned. Hope you all enjoy. Thank you to @wakingbeauty for putting thots into my head about Rafe being super into being squirted on because this was born. Beta: @princessmisery666 but all the general bullshit is entirely mine.

For the next two days, you offer to pick up extra shifts at The Wreck, desperately needing the distraction. The night Rafe attacked you still plays in your mind on a loop and instead of feeling pure revulsion, thick heat swirls in your gut every time you remember the way he felt inside you.

You’re into your second double shift when your cell pings in your apron. You don’t think anything of it as you serve tables seven and ten, assuming it’s just Kie or Pope asking if you’re okay— again, and eventually after you fill up another jug of water for table six, you reach into your pocket once you make it back to the counter. Your brow furrows when you realise it’s neither Kie or Pope, their earlier messages still left on unread. It’s not even John B this time sending you another silly meme.

The text doesn’t come with a number, just an attachment for a video.

Spam? Wrong number?

You’re about to slip it back into the small pouch when something tugs at your mind, telling you to open it. Glancing around to check Mike and Anna are out of sight, you quickly load the message. There is no text accompanying the video and for the second time, you wonder if it’s just junk. You exit the message and your thumb swipes left a little, bringing up the option to delete, but that niggling feeling remains.

Open it.

You take another little look around and everyone is preoccupied elsewhere. The message loads once more and you study the thumbnail a little harder, but it’s not very clear. Taking a deep breath, you press play, making sure the volume is turned down low.

The video starts up and everything becomes clear. Instantly, your stomach twists as you realise what you’re watching.

You can pick those shorts out anywhere.

Hard, pink flesh juts out through the middle of the material, long fingers wrapping around it. You don’t make it any further. You press pause and quickly click the screen off, hands shaking as you slip it back into your apron and hurry over to a table— any table, in case they’re in need of your assistance.

-

You go for a break twenty minutes later, and your legs feel like jelly as you hurry to the bathroom. Locking yourself inside a stall, you sit down on the toilet seat and as much as you want to delete the video and forget all about it, your overwhelming sense of curiosity pulls and tugs at your thoughts.

Hurriedly, you open it up again and press play. Your heart thuds heavy inside your chest as your entire body prickles in a weird sense of excitement.

The video starts and Rafe’s shorts are in full view, along with his glistening cock protruding from the fabric. This time, you turn up the sound— one click at a time until it’s at a volume quiet enough for you to hear, but not too loud that people might listen in. Not that anyone else is back here this late, yet you still want to be cautious.

“Fuck,” comes a gruff voice echoing from the speakers. You watch as he pumps his cock, slowly at first— teasing almost, until he’s tugging on the flesh with deep, heavy breaths. It’s hypnotising.

And when little spurts of pre-cum coat the head of his cock, your tongue darts out between your lips, wishing you could lick it away. You clench your thighs together, willing away the thought but it remains there until he gathers the milky white nectar up with his thumb and rubs it down his veiny shaft.

Rafe stops momentarily, pulling up the material of his shorts and wraps his steely flesh within it to aid the long drags of his hand.

“Shit, ��m still soakin’ from you,'' you hear him grit out from behind the camera followed by a strained groan. He must’ve filmed this the night of the movie.

Even though you scrubbed yourself clean the moment you got home, you can still feel him inside you, his cum all hot and wet as it dried on your thighs. You still feel dirty. And it shames you because you like feeling this way.

You grow wet as you continue to watch, his staccato moans becoming more erratic.

“Can smell you on me,” Rafe husks deeply, “can still taste you on my cock.” His hand disappears for a moment and the distinct sound of sucking fills the stall.

You bring your hand up to your mouth, like you’re trying to push the whine dancing behind your lips back down your throat. Somehow you can still smell Rafe on you too, even after countless showers, his aftershave clings to you like honey. 

“Who knew a Pogue would taste so fuckin’ good?” he mutters behind the camera as his hand returns to his cock. “Wanna watch you squirt all over me again, wanna feel you fuckin’ drench me.”

It’s only a matter of time before he’s coming all over his hand, the sound of your name thundering in your ears.

-

The rest of your shift rushes by in a blur, your mind focused solely on the filth sitting on your cell as you serve up lobster platters and crab cakes.

Kie tries to call when you get home, but you feign feeling sick before you hang up on her. You feel awful for keeping this from her, but she’ll never understand.

Rafe is a Kook. And not only just a Kook, but the biggest asshole ever to grace Kildare County. And if Kie found he raped you, she’d beg you to go to Sheriff Peterkin, even though the likelihood of him ever seeing the inside of jail cell would be slim to none. But she’d be even more disgusted if she found out you want him to do it again.

You repeat the video three times more before you fall asleep, headphones still shoved in your ears with the volume at full blast. By the end of the second rotation, you’re almost reeling at the ache between your legs and when Rafe comes at the end of the third watch, you come right along with him.

-

It’s the middle of the night when your phone pings again.

— Not even gonna leave me a review?

You’re confused for a second until it all comes rushing back. The video. Picking up your cell, you contemplate what to write as the text bubble briefly appears before another message shows up.

— 3/5 stars? 4 for effort?

Smug asshole.

What do you want Rafe?

More dots appear.

— We’re on first name terms now? Must’ve left an impression on you after all.

You whine under your breath. Another ping sounds through your headphones.

— Left more than an impression though, didn’t I? ;)

The little smiley makes your skin heat. But you’re not going to let him win. Not when the video is proof that he’s not only got under your skin, but you’re firmly burrowed beneath his.

After that video, I’d say that I left a bigger one on you.

— So you did watch it :)

There’s no denying it.

Just enough to make me pity you for having a dick that small.

He types back so fast, the message appearing within seconds.

— C’mon peach, we both know I could barely fit inside you.

You close your eyes and let go of a deep breath, air whistling out through your nostrils as you try to compose yourself. Slowly you open them and begin to type.

What do you want?

It’s best to change the subject, knowing you’re heading into dangerous territory.

— Meet me here tomorrow, 10pm.

He sends you an address with an accompanying pin, and when you open it up in Google Maps, you know instantly where he’s sending you. You’ve spent enough time sitting in your truck outside it, waiting for JJ to score a bag of weed to know the place well.

— Come alone. Or I tell everyone how much you begged me to fuck you.

-

The next evening, crowds fill up on the beach as the impromptu party gets underway. You debate drinking your muddled brain away, but you decide against it— wanting a clear head for your meet up with Rafe.

You couldn’t sleep for the rest of the night, mind racing with the thoughts of what he could possibly want to meet up with you for, but snippets of the video kept sneaking into your consciousness. Thinking how captivating your name sounded tumbling from his lips as he…

“Hey,” Pope’s voice cuts through your daydream. You scrunch up your nose at the cup he passes you over the barrel. “You’re not drinking?”

“Nah, not in the mood,” you reply as Kie slumps down next to you on the tree trunk.

“What is up with you lately? Ever since the movie you’ve been super off, dodging my calls,” she snaps a little too sharply. “And my parents said you were fine when you left them the other night.”

“Must’ve been the leftover shellfish I had on break,” you shrug, trying to throw her off the scent. Fishing your phone from your pocket, your stomach knots as you glance down at the time.

21:43.

It’ll only take you ten minutes to get to Barry’s trailer from here, but you don’t want to leave too early and seem eager. The last thing you need Rafe to think is that you want to be there. However you debate heading to your truck anyway when you see Kie’s face scowling at you.

“Somewhere else you gotta be?” she presses. You look back up at her, wishing you could tell her everything.

“No,” you shake your head, “just tired.”

-

21:51.

You make it to your truck with minimal disruption, only stopping briefly when JJ tries to dance with you. You manage to spin him a little white lie, claiming that you need to go to the bathroom and he lets go without a single word of protest.

Every fibre in your body is alight with adrenaline, fearful that you’ll get caught sneaking away from a kegger— something you’ve never done since you became a fully fledged Pogue. As you slip the key into the ignition, your stomach flutters with anticipation, almost to the point where you think you’re going to throw up but you quickly wind the window down and crisp, cool air rushes into the cab.

Taking a few deep breaths, you steady your emotions, trying to remain as calm as possible as you shift the truck into drive and head off towards Barry’s.

Alone.

-

The entire place is shrouded in darkness when you arrive. For a moment, you think it’s a trap and debate turning around to head back to The Cut when you notice an expensive looking Range Rover parked in a small clearing just off to the left of the rundown trailer.

There’s no way in hell Barry can afford anything like that.

Slowly, you pull up in front of it and climb down from your truck on shaky legs. You smooth out your small crop top and shorts before internally rebuking yourself for attempting to look presentable.

For Rafe Cameron of all fucking people.

You glance around, shifting from foot to foot as the sound of the screen door clatters behind you. Taking tentative steps around the truck, eventually you catch sight of Rafe walking across the lawn towards you.

His dirty blonde hair isn’t slicked back like normal, instead it hangs loosely in curtains over his forehead. You swallow down your revulsion for thinking he actually looks… hot.

“Knew you’d show up,” he smiles a little smug when he reaches you.

“I didn’t really have much of a choice, so,” you mutter curtly with a shrug of your shoulders.

“Yet you’re still here,” he placates softly, reaching out and placing his hand on your shoulders. The feel of his skin against yours sends a spark of something down your spine, but you can’t be sure if it’s disgust or arousal. “So desperate to keep your little reputation clean.” 

You stare at him in contempt before knocking his hands away with a loud huff. “Fuck this, I knew I should never have come here.”

Turning on your heel, you rush the few steps back to the door of your truck but before you can wrench it open, Rafe is already behind you, hand splayed over the rusted paintwork, preventing you from opening it.

“Trust me, you don’t wanna do that, Princess.”

With all your might, you try the handle again, but even with only one hand, Rafe is too strong. You reach out, slapping at his bicep, his chest, his head— anything to get him to move out of the way before he’s lunging for you.

“How many times did you watch it?” he husks in your ear as he uses his body weight to press you up against the truck. You try to reach behind you to fight him off, but the actions are futile as he pins your arms to the door.

You can feel every ridge and muscle in his chest as he moves, casually kicking your legs apart and shoves his thigh between them. A little squeak leaves your lips when it pushes along the seam of your shorts, bunching the material up against your clit.

“I didn’t,” you lie. There’s so little conviction in it, you have a hard time believing it yourself.

Your eyes flutter closed when he subtly grinds himself against your ass, the swell of his cock already evident. He can’t know it’s all you’ve been thinking about since he sent it. He can’t know you get yourself off to it.

Rafe inhales deeply behind you as he ghosts his lips over the apple of your cheek. He drops a hand, curling it around your midriff and slides it down to the apex of your thighs.

“I’ve not been able to think of anything else but this sweet little pussy,” you gasp when he cups you tight, “since I fucked you.”

“You raped me,” you squeak but the protest dies on your tongue as he pops the button of your shorts.

His hand is unbearably warm as it sinks beneath your panties, and when his middle finger parts through your folds, the noise that escapes you is nothing short of inhuman.

“I wouldn’t go around telling people that if I were you,” he breathes against you, crooking his finger just inside your entrance. “Things could get real nasty real quick.”

His threat makes your blood run cold, but the moment he presses the base of his palm against your clit, your body melts into him like a knife through butter.

“See, look at you,” he rasps with jeer, “so needy for me.”

“Sh-shut up,” you hiss, feeling heat rush into your cheeks, afraid that he’ll be able to sense your shame. In an attempt to prise him off, you wrap your hand around his wrist, digging your fingers into the raised red welt on his skin. Rafe lets out a pained howl behind you before sinking his teeth into your shoulder as his grip on your pussy tightens. 

“Why’d you really come here, huh?” he teases, slipping in another finger. Your eyes roll. “To fight me?” He drags them out. “Or to let me fuck you over the hood of your piece of shit truck?” They plunge back in and you wilt against the cold metal, unable to form the words your brain is screaming at you.

All of your resolve perishes to dust as you glance back at him, finally meeting his steely blue gaze. 

“There you are,” he mutters thickly over the sound of his fingers fucking wetly in and out of you. “I got you now, haven’t I?”

The words fill you with a weird mixture of dread and repugnance as the realisation finally sinks in. You belong to him now whether you want to or not. And you know that whenever he calls, you’ll come running like an eager puppy returning to its owner.

You feel sick, stomach dropping like lead as you nod, the word “yes,” ghosting off your lips, light as air.

***

Please note, the following people are only being tagged as they expressed interest in the first part. 

GOF: @eyecweenah5152 @tivosstuff @sfreeborn @dilfsebstan @dreamy-ficrecs @treble-makr @teishalicious @mysweetpoisons @morpheind

Rafe: @mugi-chwan95 @weasleytwinsexpert​

Forever: @amirra88 @andreasworlsboring101 @amandamdiehl @b3autyfuldisast3r @buttercandy16 @crashdevlin @dangertoozmanykids101 @daughterofthenight117 @donnaintx @dandywinchesterbras @deangirl93 @doozywoozy @foxyjwls007 @geekofmanyforms @heyyouwiththeassbutt @hoewkeyesblue @i-opened-the-chamber-of-secrets @ilovefanfic86 @joseyrw @kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay @letsby @letsdisneythings @lassie-bird @mogaruke @maliburenee @notyourtypicalrose @nik2write @obsessivelycapricious @patrick-hockslutter @pinkshenanigan @princessmisery666 @phildunphyisadilf @rattwritesfics @roxyfan14-blog @sea040561 @sweeterthanthis @slutformarvelmen @simpformarvelmenandwoman @stoneyggirl @stoneyggirl2 @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @thegirlnextdoorssister @unfortunate-brat @warriorqueen1991 @xoxabs88xox

[leanastarkey]

Why do I literally have to search for an angst fic and there are ONLY SMUT FICS like I just wanna read rafe/jj angst fics 😔

[cockslutpadalecki]

Girl On Film

Summary: When you cross Rafe’s path, he makes damn sure you regret ever doing so.

Characters: Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader.

Words: 2.4K.

Warnings: non-con/dub-con, explicit sexual content, Rafe’s temper, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it kids), dacryphilia (crying kink), (slight) size kink, forced orgasms, squirting, cream pie, 18+.

A/N: Inspired by scenes in 1x03 “The Forbidden Zone” and 1x04 “Spy Games”— this is my reimagining. Oh and I’ve already written a second part to this because I couldn’t help myself. It’s all @wakingbeauty​‘s fault. Beta: @princessmisery666 but all the general bullshit is entirely mine.

As the boat pulls up to the pier alongside the country club’s shoreline, your stomach twists in a hot mixture of apprehension and self-reproach. You should never have offered to help Pope with his deliveries, especially when you know it means sailing into the lion’s den, or as the kooks call it— Figure Eight.

You grab hold of the bags and scurry quickly across the sand, eyes darting across from the left to right as they analyse your surroundings. A group of older men gather together far to your left and the path ahead of you is clear. You breathe a slow sigh of relief as you continue up the track, focused on dropping off the supplies as quickly as possible and running back to the boat if you have to.

The less time spent here the better.

You’re just passing a blind spot to your left as someone in a backwards cap, followed by a head of messy blonde hair, appears in your periphery. Your stomach sinks instantly and your urge to drop and run makes your thighs burn.

You know for a fact the blonde hair belongs to Topper. So the person in the cap has to be… Rafe fucking Cameron.

“Well, look what we have here, Top,” he says, a macabre smirk pulling at the corners of his lips. Your eyes dart to his friend who remains further back before your stare is focused back on the boy slowly slinking his way towards you like a snake ready to pounce. “Hey, how much for one of those beers?”

“They’re not for sale,” you answer back. You move to his left to get around him but he’s too quick and steps right into your path.

“Then you can just give us one, right?” 

“Or you can order one, like everybody else.” 

You try to move around him in the other direction, but he steps closer, and holds the golf club up to your chest, cutting off your exit entirely. “Wait, wait, wait, look, you’re not listening to me, you’ve got so many, and we’ve got nothing.”

“They’re not even mine, they’re already paid for.”

“Rafe, dude, just let her through,” Topper interrupts.

“Nah man, not until she gives us the beers.”

”Go to hell,” you snap without thinking and instantly he reacts. Lunging forward with his golf club, he knocks the bag out of your grip, the contents spilling onto the sand. You try to hold him off with your now free hand, but he’s too strong and slaps it away as he towers over you, lips tight in an angry scowl.

“What did you say to me, Pogue?” he spits, the head of the golf club pushed up hard under your chin.

“C’mon Rafe, leave her alone!” Topper shouts from behind him, shielded from view, but his voice sounds too far away, like he’s trying to put distance between the three of you.

“Stay outta this, Top,” he calls back to his friend, eyes clouding to dark navy as he stares down at you.

Even though you’re outnumbered, the adrenaline pumping hard in your veins suddenly makes you feel invincible and the words are out of your mouth before you have a chance to register them. “Fuck you, Kook.”

Rafe lunges towards you, features twisted as he throws the golf club to the ground and wraps his hand tightly around your throat. You gasp as he squeezes the air out of you, dropping the case of beer at your feet as you claw at his hand.

“Shit man, someone’s gonna see,” Topper calls and he suddenly appears over Rafe’s right shoulder, a distinct look of fear in his eye as he catches yours.

The dirty blonde’s grip around your neck loosens, but not before he fires off a warning, “Better not catch you alone Pogue.”

He takes a step back, grabbing the beers off the sand with a snarl, “And I’m takin’ these as compensation for the attitude.”

-

All day you’ve been telling JJ, Pope and Kie over and over that you don’t want to go to the annual movie night, knowing that Rafe and his friends will be there. Ever since his warning to you at the country club, and the feel of his fingers still tight around your throat, you do everything in your power to not cross his path again.

Wrapping your arms around yourself, you cast a cursory glance over your shoulder towards Topper, Kelce and Rafe— the latter catching your eye over the rim of the blue plastic cup as he takes a sip from it. Your stomach rolls in an odd concoction of terror and arousal. Shaking your head in disgust at yourself, you turn back to your friends.

“Guys, please, can I just go home?” you whine, slumping down on the grass next to JJ.

“Look if Rafe gives you any trouble, we’re here okay?” The blonde reassures you softly.

You give him a half-hearted smile, his words not in the least bit comforting.

-

Mid-film, you need to pee. Shifting uncomfortably, trying to hold it in, you look towards the back of the crowd, your stomach sinking when you realise you’ll have to walk right past Rafe to get to them.

“You alright?“ Kie whispers beside you when she notices your skittish demeanour.

“I gotta pee,” you reply.

“Need me to come and stand watch?” JJ teases, flashing you a coquettish wink.

“Pig,” you laugh with a shake of your head, “I’ll be fine.”

You rise up onto the balls of your feet, intent on keeping low as you sneak through the crowd and around to the back of the large white screen in the hopes that you can dash around the other side and bypass Rafe completely.

Reaching the edge of the makeshift stage, you conceal yourself behind the large tree briefly before glancing around the trunk to be met with Rafe storming quickly towards you.

Fuck.

He whistles as he catches sight of you. “What’s up, Pogue?” He keeps advancing, forcing you to scuttle backwards on the tips of your toes. “Look who’s back here all by herself.”

“I just need to use the bathroom,” you explain, putting your arms out in front of you to prevent him from coming any closer, but he doesn’t stop.

“And I just wanna talk.”

“T-talk?” you stutter.

You take another step back, your foot catching on an uneven bit of grass and you stumble, right into Rafe’s arms.

“Wanna see how well you can answer me back with my cock in your mouth,” he scoffs, clamping one hand over your parted lips as you swallow down a scream.

Forcing you down onto the grass, he plants his knees firmly between your thighs, preventing you from closing them. You struggle in his grip, but again, your strength is no match for his as he flips the skirt of your dress up and roughly tugs your panties to the side.

You start to cry into his palm when Rafe reaches into his shorts, resigning yourself to your fate. A look of indignation pulls at his lips as he stares down at you, his icy stare piercing your soul. Abashed heat ripples through your core as he runs his knuckles along the seam of your folds, manipulating the head of his cock against your clit.

You squirm at the sensation and he chuckles thickly to himself when your hips involuntarily cant up towards him. “Look at you, so eager for it.”

Rafe slips inside you, just the tip at first, merely enough to marvel at the way your eyes widen at the intrusion before they’re rolling into the back of your head in debased delight.

When he hits resistance, you whine behind his palm in an attempt to stop him moving any further, but he doesn’t listen. 

“Too much cock for you, Pogue?” he pouts. “C’mon, you can take it, I know you can.” He keeps urging forward, slowly manipulating his way until he sinks deep into your silken heat, bottoming out with a heavy sigh.

The pain of little preparation makes you tense beneath him, but as he retreats and drives back into you— teasingly deep, you can feel yourself growing wet.

“Not so full of attitude now, are you?” he spits, disgust rapidly morphing into amusement as he glances down to where the two of you join. “Filthy Pogue soakin’ my cock like a damn slut.”

You don’t miss the way his cock twitches— how it makes your stomach tighten and coil in arousal, and you try your best to focus your mind elsewhere as his hips begin to snap against the backs of your thighs, but it’s of little use.

Pleasure and pain blend as Rafe stretches you open, and all you can do is lay there and take him, the wet slurps of your cunt barely registering over the booming sound of the movie still playing to your right. But you can feel it—sticky hot and wet— soaking your underwear still gathered in the crease of your thigh. As Rafe rocks into you, each thrust drags the sodden material over your clit and flames of dizzying fervour rush through your veins.

You try to squeeze your eyes shut, to prevent imprinting the savage image of Rafe staring down at you— all hungry eyes, bared teeth, and lips half-cocked in a lazy smirk— but each time you do, he fucks you a little rougher. Rutting his hips deeper, your back arches when the tip of his cock hits your cervix.

Swirling chagrin burrows deep in your gut, humiliated by your own sick enjoyment. You can feel the tears building up in the corners of your eyes until they overflow and spill out, running hot down your dewy cheeks and into your hairline. 

“Are you crying?” he growls between heated breaths. There’s little point trying to hide it, knowing that if you close your eyes he’ll only fuck you harder until you open them again. You nod behind his palm, revulsion settling heavy like lead in your chest when he laughs, “‘m fuckin’ you that good?” 

More tears follow in their sibling’s tracks and humiliation morphs into abject horror as he leans down, pressing a light kiss to your cheek before his tongue laves over your damp skin with a jubilant hum. Like he’s enjoying your tears.

He’s unrelenting. Merciless. But somehow you find yourself waiting for— craving each thrust back in, chasing the high you can feel just out of reach. How can it feel so wrong but so good at the same time? 

You cry beneath him, your choked sobs muffled between strained whimpers and whines, as one manages to escape from around Rafe’s fingertips. 

“Ssh, you gotta be quiet for me, don’t want anyone to see you getting fucked by a Kook now, do we?” 

You feel yourself trembling around him, getting closer and closer to snapping, and in a daze, your free hand comes up to grab a handful of his t-shirt, twisting it tight in your fist. The action pulls him closer to you, the heat of his breath tickling your forehead.

“You gonna come, Pogue?” Rafe scoffs. You shake your head, trying to convince him otherwise, but you know he can feel every pulse and squeeze of your pussy. “Nah, you’re gonna come around my cock whether you want to or not.” 

His rhythm increases as he shifts above you, and the angle creates enough friction against your clit that you’re splintering around him within seconds. He laughs at you as your eyes roll into the back of your head, walls fluttering around his cock. 

“See, that wasn’t so bad was it, huh?” he sneers, continuing his onslaught until you’re coming again, your brain a mass of white noise and dotted vision. But still Rafe doesn’t stop, just keeps fucking, grinding, snapping— and you can’t help the scream that rips from your throat, sifled by the weight of his palm as a flood of wet soaks you and him. Rafe slows, retreating just enough to gaze between you, lips pulling up into a wide smirk when he glances back up. 

“Shit, did you just squirt?” He almost sounds proud. 

Your whole body quakes with overstimulation as he follows close behind, spilling into you with jerked thrusts and praise interlaced with vitriol. Almost as if he feels violated for having had sex with you, but at the same time, like he’s done you a fucking favour by doing so.

Eventually he slows and pulls out, the evidence of his assault dribbling between your puffy folds and you wince when he drags himself off of you, your cunt throbbing from a heady mixture of roughness and orgasms. 

In normal circumstances, you’d be running to Kie to tell her all about the best sex of your life, but knowing who gave it to you and in this capacity, it’s imperative you keep it to yourself. Nobody will ever believe it.

Rafe Cameron could get away with murder if he wanted to.

You can’t help but glance down at him still kneeling between your thighs as he tucks himself away, a wry smile pulling at the corners of his lips. The front of his shorts is soaked, and you just know he’s going to tell his shitty friends how hard he made you come, save for a few choice details. 

“Great movie, huh?” he taunts, pushing himself to his feet and stalks off, leaving you messy and bereft. Sitting up, you try to clean yourself up as best you can while sniffing away your tears before returning to your friends.

“Hey, what took you so long?” Kie asks in concern when you finally reappear. With a stifled wince, you sit back down between her and JJ, the lingering sting in your pussy temporarily taking your breath away. But no matter what position you try to get comfortable in, you can still feel Rafe’s cock sheathed between your walls. 

“Yeah, where’d you go to pee? The mainland?” JJ laughs, but you can’t find in you to reciprocate. 

“Something like that,” you mutter mindlessly under your breath, bringing your legs up to your chest. Burrowing your chin into your knees, you try to block out what just happened, but your mind isn’t having any of it. Your skin prickles like you’re being watched, and before you know it, you’re sneaking a glance back over your shoulder to where Rafe sits.

And he’s looking straight back at you, a macabre smile twisting at his lips.

***

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