#rafe chapter

[4urvalidation]

reading my own written work

[lambtotheslaughterr]

pure//violence

a Rafe Cameron series

Chapter One -- YOUNG GOD

THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN THEMES OF NON/CON & DUB/CON, MENTAL/EMOTIONAL/PHYSICAL ABUSE. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. MINORS DNFI. 18+.

WC: 3.8k

Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics

MASTERLIST | CHAPTER TWO

all AI images are created based off prompts i wrote, they are not real images

“He will oppose and exalt himself over everything that is called God or is worshipped, so that he sets himself up in God’s temple, proclaiming himself to be God.”

2 Thessalonians 2:4

            You’ll never remember the day you were born, but you’ll always remember the day you nearly died. You always knew that something greater, something purely made up of goodness & peace would be on the other side, but you never knew if the moments leading to it would be of contentment or violence. They were rather morbid thoughts, you knew that much, but they were thoughts that often kept you awake at night. Yet, they were not thoughts that scared you. You had never feared death simply because you knew where you would be going. Heaven, paradise, the great beyond, whatever the name for it was, you knew it was waiting for you. So you needn’t be scared.

            But it wasn’t the same for you mother. She had been young, you had only been a baby—not even a year old—when a man made up of pure evil murdered her one night. She had been working the night shift at the hospital & was exhausted, she never knew someone was watching her. She had never seen her attacker coming. He snuck up behind her, stuck a knife into her spine, & ran off with her purse. Despite being in the parking lot of a hospital, your mother had bled out before anyone found her. Here one moment, gone the next. She died a violent death. You prayed you wouldn’t experience the same.

            Fortunately, your father had always been gracious in protecting you. He put you in the best schools, raised you in the safest neighborhoods, kept good company, & always had your best interests at heart. It’s why you trusted him to guide you. He may have been the well-loved & highly respected reverend that he was, but more so, he was your guardian angel. It’s why instead of going to college immediately upon graduating high school, you made the decision to move with him to a new town in the south. You decided you would take a year off, live a year for yourself before you dedicated the rest of your life to whichever path was laid out before you. Your father had urged you to go to school, but trusted you to make the right decisions for yourself.

            And that’s how you found yourself in a small, island town called Kildare. It was a Friday, & you had only moved to the town yesterday. Your father paid for movers to get the house set up before your arrival, but you insisted on setting up your own room. After you decorated your room & unpacked your clothes, you opened up the only window in your room to let in the east coast breeze. You had been to the beach very few times in your life, but you were excited to explore the island. It had been saddening leaving your friends back in your hometown, but a majority of them were going off to college or traveling the world, so you figured this would be a new chapter in your life.

            “_____!” You heard your father calling your name from downstairs. You slipped off your bed & entered the hallway, glancing over the banister to spot your father at the bottom of the stairs.

            “I’m going to head to the church & get some work done there for my first service on Sunday, would you like to come with?”

            You smiled & nodded, “Let me get my sandals.”

            With that, you quickly slipped into your sandals before checking your outfit once in the mirror before grabbing your phone.

            The drive to the church was quick. It was telling to you how small the town was with how easy it was to get around. Getting out of your dad’s car, you peered at the church from the rear side. The front entrance was on the beach & you grinned at how beautiful the tiny church was. You had spent your entire life within the walls of the church & you had never known a safer place to be.

            You had heard all the insults & jeers to go along with it, but you brushed most of it off. You knew what it was like to be the reverend’s daughter, to be picked on or made fun of because of it. But you never felt the need to defend your lifestyle. People would find anything to be angry about, & a lot of people were angry with God. That wasn’t your fault. Of course, you knew a lot of people did not have the experience with faith that you had, & you were empathetic to those people, but you had always considered yourself fortunate for having a positive upbringing under His love.

            Your father slung his arm over your shoulders as he eyed the church with you, “She’s a beauty, isn’t she?”

            “Truly.” You replied.

            You were eager to see the inside. The church your dad had worked at previously was much older & had a lot more character & history to it. The church before you was still young-looking, but you knew it would be just as beautiful on the inside as it was on the outside. Once you stepped inside, you were relieved your instinct was correct. The interior of the church was indeed stunning.

            The ceilings were high, the walls painted white with the North Carolina sun beaming in. It was much larger on the inside than it looked from the outside but still much smaller than the one you grew up in. You knew then that the congregation for this church must be less than 100 people. It was only slightly worrisome, being surrounded by a smaller group of believers, but you were looking forward to meeting new people & making new friends, nonetheless.

            Your father got to work right away, reciting passages from his bible as he stood at the lectern. It was a comforting pastime, listening to him practice his sermon’s while you did your homework or read along with him in your own bible—which also happened to be your late mother’s. But now with no homework & your bible left on your bedside table, you simply walked around the church, admiring the different views from the windows. For the next thirty minutes, you explored the church & all of it’s hidden secrets. In the private backrooms, you found what would be your father’s office, a picture of your mother already on his desk. You gently fingered all of the books on his shelves & smiled when coming across one of his Sudoku books.

            After getting your fill of the new church, you returned to the main room. Your father was deep into his practice when you gently tapped him on the shoulder.

            “I’m going to go for a walk.” You told him, “Explore Kildare.”

            “Okay, sweetheart.” He grinned at you, his eye-glasses placed near the end of his nose, “You have your phone?”

            “’Course.” You tapped your jean pocket.

            “When I finish here I will come pick you up.”

            “Okay.” You agreed, raising onto your toes to give him a kiss on his cheek, “Have fun.”

            Exiting the church, you continued forward onto the beach. You slipped out of your sandals & kept them dangling from your curled fingers.

            The ocean breeze was refreshing. It was early July & you were impressed at how hot it wasn’t. The sun felt good on your skin & you enjoyed the taste of saltwater on your lips. You took your time walking along the shore, your eyes cast out over the ocean the whole time. It had been a little after four in the afternoon when you left the church. You knew your father wouldn’t be done until about six, so you had a couple hours to yourself.

            Your feet were soaked up to your ankles & you wiggled your toes in the sand. A few others walked nearby: an elderly couple holding hands, a mother & her young son flying a kite, a few girls around your age lying on beach towels. Honestly, you had expected more activity on such a beautiful day on a beautiful beach, but you supposed it was a small town. Perhaps there were more important matters for the residents of Kildare.

            As five ‘o’clock rolled around, you felt your stomach growl. You regretfully began walking away from the beach towards a boardwalk in the distance. You were unsure of how far you walked from your father’s church, but you knew it couldn’t have been too far. Once at the boardwalk, you put your sandals back on & window-shopped. A lot of boutiques & small bakery shops lined the boardwalk. A few vendors had booths open selling items from seashells to books to jewelry. You were relieved you had some cash on you, deciding to buy a small seashell that was the perfect blend of white & blue. It would be a gift for your mother. You’d place it near her urn that your father kept in the living room & welcome her to Kildare.

            After making small-talk with a few of the locals, you finally spotted a small diner. It’s name was SaltWater & the name alone reminded you of how hungry you were. Heading towards the diner, you entered & quickly found a small booth in the corner meant for two people. The interior of the diner was quaint & fitting of a town like Kildare. There was very few patrons inside so the only waitress that appeared to be on shift was quick to greet you.

            “Evening, darlin’.” She was older, perhaps in her 50’s & had a thick southern accent. It was different but exciting.

            “What can I get started for ya?”

            You hadn’t even looked at the menu yet but felt safe ordering an ordinary cheeseburger with fries & a shake.

            She swiftly turned away with a wink & disappeared behind the counter. You inhaled sharply & glanced out the window. It was still bright out & you watched as locals & tourists alike walked along the boardwalk & bought items for themselves or loved ones. You hoped to come to the boardwalk again but with your father, & maybe after some time, a group of friends.

            With the diner being so slow, your food was quick to arrive. You thanked the waitress but not before she made a comment about you being a face she didn’t recognize.

            “You new, huh, sweetheart.” She stated.

            “Yeah.” You smiled, taking a single bite of one of the fries. Salty indeed.

            “I can tell. Tourists have a look to ‘em. Not you, though.” She teased.

            “I hope that’s a good thing?” You returned, biting your lip anxiously.

            “It is, honey, it is. Tourists ‘round here only bring more problems for us locals. Kids your age get into a lot of trouble this time of year. Kooks & tourists, the worst combo.”

            “Kooks?” You questioned.

            But before she could respond, a bell dinged from the kitchen.

            “’scuse me, darlin’. Enjoy your meal, it’s on me tonight.”

            “Oh, no, really—” But she had already walked away.

            You were grateful for her kindness & it made your cheeseburger taste that much better. The shake you ordered was strawberry & you often dipped your fries into it, enjoying the salty & sweet combination.

            You didn’t see much of your waitress after your meal. Another girl had come into work & she was closer to your age. She had long blonde hair & bright eyes. But despite how angelic she appeared, you observed a cloud cast over her. She often kept her head down & avoided meeting the eyes of others.

            She stopped by to check on you & you ordered another shake, strawberry again. She jotted it down before moving behind the counter. You pulled out your phone & checked the time, it was a quarter to six. You imagined your father would be finishing up soon so you planned on ordering him a burger to go.

            A moment later, the young waitress returned with your shake. You thanked her & were about to ask her to put in a to go order when another door at the other end of the diner slammed open.

            A group of rowdy boys piled into the compact diner, their voices loud & boisterous as they all clambered into the closest booth. There were so many of them that they took up two booths. But what you noticed most of all was how your waitress responded to their arrival.

            She rolled her eyes & sighed, speaking quietly to herself, “Great. Here we go.”

            Before you could place your order, she moved behind the counter once more. You watched as she cast an annoyed glance at the group of boys. You wondered if this is what your waitress from earlier had been referring to. Were these the tourists that caused problems?

            Your gaze landed on the group of boys. They were all talking over one another or shoving each other off their seats. There was no one else in the diner except for you, the waitress, the group of boys, & you assumed a cook or two in the back.

            “Jordaaaaan!” A voice called then & it came from one of the boys in the group.

            “Oh, Jordaaaaan! C’mon, baby, we’re starving over here.”

            Your eyes flashed to blonde behind the counter as she ignored the boys. Then one of them moved out of the booth & towards the counter. He slapped his hand on the flat surface then whistled, “Hello, earth to Jordan, we’d like some service.”

            “I’ll be there in a second, Rafe, please.” The waitress, who you knew now was Jordan, glanced at him over her shoulder.

            The young man rolled his eyes & made a face at his group of friends whom all laughed raucously.

            “If you have time for your ‘Lord & Savior, Jesus Christ’”, the man air quoted with his fingers, “you have time for the people who are actually real & here & h u n g r y.”

            Jordan shook her head but finally exited the counter to approach the group of boys, avoiding the young man at the counter as she moved around him.

            “What can I get started for you?” Her voice was soft, tired, but you still managed to hear it.

            Then all at once, every single boy began ordering. You could see the annoyance on Jordan’s face as she didn’t even bother writing anything down.

            It was burger this, burger that, fries galore, multiple shakes in different flavors, demands for extra napkins & complaints about empty ketchup bottles. You felt your skin crawl noticing her discomfort. But then the man who stood at the counter stepped up behind her & placed his hands on her shoulders & jostled her as if she was a child, “Don’t fuck up our order again, Jordan.”

            You reacted before you could even think about it. Standing up, you approached the group of boys giving your waitress a hard time & you tried to catch her eyes. Once you had, she peered at you wide-eyed.

            “Are you okay?” You questioned, ignoring the numerous glares that were suddenly being cast towards you.

            A scoff came from the man who still had his hands on Jordan’s shoulders once he spotted you, “She’s fine.”

            You ignored his input, never dropping your eyes from Jordan’s, “Do you need some help?”

            “Uh—”

            “Hey!” Another young man sitting down yelled out, “Wait your turn!”

            Jordan lowered her eyes once more before shuffling out from under the young man’s hands, “Your order will be right out.”

            Her voice was small & she quickly found solace behind the counter. You moved to follow after her, keep yourself between her & them, but just as you moved, a firm grasp gripped your wrist & halted you. You spun around & glared down at the hand that held you up. Following the length of the hand it led you to a tanned arm up to the face of the young man who was leading the unnecessary harassment.

            “Mind your business.” His blue eyes glared into yours.

            You ripped your arm out of his grip, “No.”

            With that, you closed the distance between where you stood & the counter where Jordan remained, punching in an order into a POS system.

            “Hey.” You greeted softly, your eyes meeting hers.

            She glanced at you once before returning her gaze to the screen, “I’ll be with you in a minute.”

            “I can kick them out if you want.” You offered, not fearful of the boys behind you.

            Jordan gave a short laugh, unimpressed with your offer, “It’ll take the entire US armed forces to get rid of them.”

            “What about the cooks?” You gestured with your chin to the window that peered into the kitchen.

            “Too high or drunk or don’t care.” She responded bitterly, “Look, thanks for your help, but I’ll be fine. I can handle them.”

            “But—”

            “You heard her.” A voice suddenly sounded to your right followed by an unwelcome arm slinging over your shoulder, “She can handle us.”

            “Ugh.” You shrugged the young man’s arm off, “Do not touch me. And don’t touch her, either.”

            The man laughed & at this angle with him being quite taller than you & closer to the artificial lights embedded in the ceiling, you could see how red his eyes were.

            Oh. So that explains it. He’s one of those types.

            “What’s your problem, sweetheart?” He finally cast his eyes down on you, “This has nothing to do with you.”

            “You’re my problem.” You replied firmly before glancing at the group of boys watching in awe behind him, “All of you are. How embarrassing & sad it is to come in here & harass her. Have you nothing better to do? Are your lives really that boring?”

            Your eyes met the young man’s once again though this time he didn’t look as jovial as he had a moment ago, “Are your souls that empty?”

            The man’s eyes fell to your neck then, his gaze narrowing. Then, before you could stop him, he reached forward & yanked on the necklace around your neck, snapping it off as if it was cheap metal (it wasn’t).

            “Ha, well looky here, boys. We got another bible thumper in the midst.” The young man held up your necklace. It was a small golden heart pendant with ’God’ engraved on it.

            “See, Jordan?” He held your necklace out of reach as you attempted to get it back, “Guess you’re not entirely alone. Another Jesus freak to keep you company.”

            “Quit it!” You demanded, finally getting a hold of your necklace & ripping it out of his grasp.

            “And get out!” You pointed to the door, “Seriously! Leave her alone, don’t come back here, & maybe find something decent inside yourselves.”

            The boys behind him erupted into laughter at your response. The young man leaned against the counter, resting on his elbow as his eyes danced from you to Jordan, “Alright, fine. We’ll leave. But we’ll be back.”

            He caught Jordan’s gaze, “Won’t we?”

            “Go.” You repeated.

            His eyes met yours once more & he laughed harshly before taking a step back, throwing his hands up together to mock praying, “Tell your God to forgive me, sister.”

            The boys guffawed with roars of laughter.

            One by one they slowly filed out, & you were relieved when the door finally slammed shut behind them.

            “Geez, who were those guys?” You questioned out loud, not really expecting an answer.

            “Kildare’s finest.” Jordan responded dryly, “Thanks, though. If you hadn’t said anything they would have been in here all night making a mess of the place.”

            “They’re locals?” The possibility horrified you.

            “They’re more than that. They’re the money of Kildare. Born & raised with silver spoons shoved up their… well, you know.”

            You shook your head in disbelief, “I try to feel sorry for people like that but in this case, I can’t fathom it.”

            “Believe me, Rafe Cameron is the last person on this island you should feel sorry for.”

            “He the ring-leader?” You asked.

            “Yup.” She nodded, “What’s ironically funny about him though is that he’s been picking on me since high school, ya know, for my beliefs. But then parades around town with his pack of wolves as if he’s a god himself. Just funny.”

            “Mmm.” You frowned, not liking Rafe Cameron whatsoever the more you learned about him.

            “I’m Jordan, by the way.” Jordan smiled, a real smile.

            “_____.” You returned, offering your hand for her to shake.

            “Oh!” Her eyes lit up for the first time since you entered the diner, “You’re the new reverend’s daughter.”

            “Yeah.” You grinned proudly.

            “I’ve watched a couple of his sermon’s on YouTube, he knows what he’s talking about.” She commented.

            “Yes, he does.” If there was only one thing you could be proud of in life it would be your father.

            “That’s so cool. I had heard he moved here with his daughter, but I don’t know, guess I thought you’d be younger.”

            “18.” You replied, “Turn 19 in November.”

            “I turn 19 in December!” Jordan squealed with excitement.

            The two of you shared a laugh before your phone started ringing. You pulled it out & it was your dad.

            “Sorry, my dad.”

            “Oh, wow, I can’t wait to meet him.” She admitted.

            “Are you a member of the church he’s working out of?”

            “Yup.” Jordan smiled brightly, “It’ll be a nice change, the last reverend… well, he had some scandals under his robes.”

            You had heard of them but didn’t like thinking about it too often.

            You shot your dad a quick text as to where you were at & he responded with saying he’d be there in 10 minutes.

            “Well, my dad is on his way to get me. Can we give you a ride home?”

            Jordan clicked her tongue, “Shift just started, sadly.”

            “Oh, right.” You recalled her showing up not long ago.

            “But maybe we can trade numbers & hangout sometimes. I don’t have a lot of friends here.”

            The confession disheartened you.

            “I’d love to.”

            The two of you traded numbers & made plans to hang out after church in two days. Your dad arrived shortly after & you waved goodbye to Jordan. On the drive home, you considered your first day in Kildare a success. You had explored, made friendly with a few locals, connected with Jordan, & practically spat in the face of a young wannabe god. All in all, you had nothing to complain about, but you were certain that before you went to bed tonight, you would pray for a happy, fulfilling year, a life-long friendship with Jordan, & for that lost & damaged soul whose blue eyes left you feeling almost sorry for them.

helllooo friends.

this is chapter one of what is going to be a very long, very extensive series featuring rafe cameron. it will be told in dual POV's (reader & rafe's), so the series will be ongoing for quite some time.

that being said, i am very excited to write this series & share it with you all.

as always, please share your thoughts with me via dropping a comment, reblogging with reviews, or talking to me in my inbox.

thank you all for your patience as this story unfolds as it will likely be 40 chapters considering half of it is told from rafe's pov.

love you all!

oona<3

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[darwinquark]

this is genuinely the most unhinged thing I've ever written

trigger warnings: (I really mean these) dubcon, praise kink, explicit sexual content, mild sexual violence, sub rafe/dom kie themes, infidelity, drug use, and a baby bird metaphor no one deserved

read here

[itneverendshere]

INVISIBLE STRING - chapter five TEASER

a little teaser for invisible string's next chapter (managed to get a hold of the draft i started last week).

pairing: pogue!rafe x kook!sweetheart!reader

Rafe could still feel the salt air on his skin, even if he was a thousand miles away from that damn island. It stuck to him, the way the Outer Banks did to everyone. Like he could never really shake it off, no matter how fast he ran or how far he got.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Not for him, not for you.

The bus rattled down the highway, windows fogged up from the heat inside, condensation mixing with the dirt. It stank—of sweat, of old clothes, of people trying to disappear. Like him. Rafe sank deeper into his seat, arms crossed over his chest, hat pulled low so no one got a good look at him.

He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t have to do this. They were going to ship him off like a stray dog. Get him out of sight, out of mind.

And Rafe almost did it. For you. He was this close to turning back and going along with it, just to make sure you were safe, make sure your parents didn’t take it out on you. But he knew he couldn’t do it. Couldn’t let them win. Couldn’t let them pull him out of your life just like that. He was a human being, and he was allowed to make his own choices.

The bus jerked as it hit a pothole, snapping him back to the present. There was an old guy sitting across from him, his head lolling to one side as he snored. People getting out, getting on, moving like ghosts through the aisles. No one looked twice at him, which was exactly how he needed it. He couldn’t take risks of someone recognizing him, not yet. Not while his deranged mother could still ship him back wherever she wanted.

You’d think he’d be scared. Rafe didn’t have a car, a plan, not even a place to sleep that night, or the next.. But scared? At this point, he was drained. Tired of running in circles, tired of people telling him who he was, and what he should be. Tired of feeling like he didn’t belong anywhere, except maybe with you.

But that was over now.

And fucking god, he hadn’t slept since. Not a minute. Not since he left. Every time he closed his eyes, all he saw was you. Lying there in his bed, so peaceful, so damn beautiful, tucked under his arm like you always did. You looked at him that night, just before you drifted off, and smiled like everything was fine. Like you had tomorrow. Like you had forever.

But Rafe knew. He knew it was the last night he’d hold you, the last night he’d wake up next to you. And he didn’t say a fucking word. Didn’t tell you he was leaving. Didn’t tell you that he had no choice but to go. He just watched you sleep, memorized every inch of you—how your hair fell across your face, the way your hand clutched his shirt in your sleep, the way you always hogged the blankets.

He could’ve woken you up. Could’ve told you he was running, that he had to leave. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. Rafe just couldn’t watch your heart break and maybe that was incredibly selfish of him.

He glanced out the window, watching as the big trees blurred past, the town behind him fading as the distance grew. He didn’t know where he was headed. The only thing he knew was that he couldn’t go back. Police would be looking for him, no doubt. Tony would get them on his case, only for the sake of keeping the money from your parents. Your dad would find another way to keep him as far away from you as possible. He’d probably already planned to shut down any chance of you hearing from Rafe, anyway. He couldn't even try to visit you at school without the campus police being on his ass.

Your dad had probably already planned to shut down any possible chance of you hearing from him.

Rafe shifted in his seat, pulling his hoodie tighter around him as the bus slowed down at another random stop. Somewhere off the highway, another town that looked just like the last one. The bus groaned as the doors creaked open, and a few people shuffled on. His stomach growled. He haden’t eaten since… well, he couldn't remember when. But food wasn’t the priority. Staying off the radar for a while was.

That, and trying not to think ‘bout you. But you were all he thought about. All he could think about was you, still wrapped up in those blankets, still asleep, still not knowing it was goodbye. It was driving him out of his mind.

The bus shuddered to a stop again, and he saw a sign out the window. Lincolnville. Some small-ass town that probably only had one diner, one bar, and a bunch of people who didn’t care about strangers. Perfect.

Rafe grabbed his bag from the floor, slinging it over his shoulder as he made his way to the front. The driver gave him a half-assed nod as he stepped off the bus, gravel crunching under his boots. The air was cooler there, crisp and clean, like a different world from the sticky humidity of Kildare.

It was also quiet. Too quiet. Just the sound of the bus pulling away, leaving him behind with nothing but the clothes on his back and a couple of crumpled bills he saved up from work, in his pocket. He glanced down the road and spotted the diner. Neon lights flickering, the kind of place that was open 24/7 but never full. His stomach growled again, and he figured he might as well get something in him.

The bell over the door jingled as Rafe stepped inside, and it was exactly what he had expected. Old-school booths, sticky linoleum floors, and a waitress who looked like she had been working here since before he was born. She eyed him as he slided into a booth by the window, but didn’t say nothing. Just grabbed a menu from the counter and plopped it in front of him.

“Coffee?” she asked, barely looking at him.

“Yeah, sure,” Rafe muttered, running a hand through his hair, after taking the hat off. “Black.”

She shuffled off, and he stared down at the menu. It was all the same greasy food he’d seen a hundred times before, but it’d do. He ordered a burger, something cheap, and leaned back in the booth, staring out at the empty street.

He thought about you again. Wondered if you were okay, safe. If you’d figured it all out by now. Maybe you did. You were the smartest person he’d ever had the pleasure of loving. The only one really. He wondered if you were still thinking about him. 

The waitress sat the coffee down in front of him, steam rising from the cup. He took a sip, the bitterness waking him up just a little. But it didn’t stop the thoughts from spiraling.

Rafe would figure it out. He always did. And maybe, one day, when the dust settled, he’d come back for you.

[softspiderling]

“You were high out of your mind during that race, weren’t you?”

Of course. Now everything made sense. He wasn’t acting like himself, because he wasn’t being himself.

Fucking coke.

Rafe furrowed his brows as he glared at you, a dry laugh escaping his lips.

“Oh so suddenly you care again?”

These guys were really testing you today. If you didn’t know any better, you’d assume that JJ and Rafe banded together to get on your fucking nerves.

“What did you just say to me?”

───────

see how the big fight™️ goes down between rafe and precious in illicit affairs 16 tomorrow night!

catch up with illicit affairs

[itrainswhenurhere]

mocktails and murder

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ a murder mystery au . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

rafe cameron x reader

chapter two: ghost in the machine

contains: talk of death and murder, blackmail, threats, disturbing graphic description

a/n: the first chapter got like 5 notes but i lowkey don’t care i have fun writing these yay. everyone is lowkey only interested in smut or fluff it’s killing me

ward cameron was a man of many secrets, you knew that much.

you didn’t think they could be this bad.

you’re sitting on the living room floor, back to the couch that cleo, jj and pope occupy, shaking, staring off into the distance. you had seen it. the body. limp on the floor. seconds after it had happened.

so had everybody else. they’re all perched somewhere around the room, most actions mirroring yours.

they had all walked in seconds after you and rafe. you had heard their scream of terror erupt from behind you as you stood, frozen still, watching the blood pour out of his head.

rafe and john b are putting the body in the freezer, for evidence when the police come, which when you had found your voice, you had told him not to do, that he shouldn’t have to.

that was his father, either way.

sarah was the one who had found him. she was the woman leaning over his body, the one who had screamed so loud it had echoed off the walls.

she’s sitting beside kiara on the couch opposite you. she’s quietly sobbing under kiaras comforting arms, that rub small circles over her shoulder and her back.

rafe appears first behind the door.

he’s shaken, clearly, eyes bloodshot. not nearly as bad as sarah or some of the other to be fair, but still upset.

he had hated his father, so much. but at the end of the day, no one would particularly like to drag their dads dead body across a house, no matter how much you dislike one another.

his eyes land on you and he pads over to where you’re sitting.

he sits shoulder to shoulder with you, legs bent and elbows on his knees.

you reach over to take his hand and give it a gentle squeeze. his fingers are shaking and his rough hands are pliant.

jj speaks first.

“so rafe, who fuck did you let on the island?” he accuses, angrily, from behind where you and him are sitting.

you turn to face him. “what the fuck is your problem. his dad just died, are you that fucking dense??” you try and sound tough and match his anger but your tremor gives you away.

rafe stands, reaches for something over the coffee table, and faces directly at jj.

“why don’t you check.” he unlocks his phone and throws it at the blonde. “there’s been cctv on the dock since it was first set up and the island was scaled before we arrived, there’s no one here.”

jj stands and turns the phone to himself and cleo. he goes over the footage for maybe a minute, swiping back and forth.

“holy shit.” he stands abruptly. everyone else apart from sarah, kie and cleo are up too now, expectantly.

“what??” speaks john b, leaning against the door, worriedly. even rafe doubts himself for a second, maybe someone had gotten on.

“there’s no one here.” mirroring rafes words. he drops the phone onto the couch, staring like it has answers.

pope works out the implications behind that first.

“it was one of us.”

gasps erupt around the room as people finally put two and two together.

there was no one. it was just us. one of them.

everyone is seeming thinking the same thing as the all stumble toward the person the trust the most in the group.

all of the pogues, minus cleo and jj, turn to one another and stand where kiara and sarah sit.

you grab rafes arm and take a step back from everyone else.

cleo and jj turn to the doorframe and scan over everyone in room, like the murderer will reveal itself.

rose, who hasn’t spoken once, is standing behind the couch opposite everyone else.

she doesn’t look shocked, upset sure, but not shocked, she looks more… expectant??

when she finally does speak, her voice doesn’t shake and she doesn’t stutter.

“we knew this would happen.” a pause.

“what the fuck are you talking about,” kiara rages. “why the fuck didn’t we call the police before this had happened then??” she challenges.

the wind had knocked over the wifi router and there was no service all throughout the house, tomorrow the police would be called. it was around midnight now, the tides still too high to get on rafes ship and leave.

“i begged him to.” she pauses, looking down. “he thought it was some kind of sick joke and-”

rafe interrupts her. “what… was some kind of sick joke, rose?” he’s careful with his words, confused and angry.

“the threats. someone had be been sending them for weeks now. someone that knew things- and we, well, figured that it had to have been one of our children, or their… friends.” everyones features are painted with uncertainty now.

oh. it’s suddenly clear to you why rose and ward, notorious for not liking, well, anything, wanted so eagerly for you and all of sarah’s pogues to join.

“at the mini bar by the beach. we got there and… they had- uh,” she starts to stutter. “in b-blood, uh,” you can tell she’s attempting to keep neutral and calm, her usual demeanour.

“they had written… on the wall, it had said, ‘we know what you did’ or something like that, maybe um, ‘you’ll pay for it’ i don’t know.” she winces as if in pain.

rose has never been a particularly chalant individual, so seeing her like this, actively terrified, shook you.

“and you didn’t think to fucking tell us?!?” sarah lashes.

“one of you wrote it.” rose looks down in seemingly regret, and the room goes silent.

everyone is processing the fact that someone here had, in fact, murdered ward cameron. someone had taken a whiskey glass and shoved it into his skull. someone here had been sending him death threats. someone in this room.

eventually, people separated in small groups, people that trusted the other the most.

you and rafe had stayed back, still in the living room.

“hey, you okay?” which was a stupid question, but you’re not very accustomed to what to say when someone you loves father is murdered.

you and him are sitting up on the couch, your knees to your chest, facing him.

“don’t ask stupid questions.” he finally speaks, although there’s no real bite to his tone.

he looks… full of rage? confused? raw? angry? determined?

you can usually read him very well but, as you’d said, you have no idea what to do or think in this situation.

he turns to you, gently takes a hand from your knees and holds it like it’s a precious peace of art.

for the first time since all this, you can see what he feels.

love.

you know he loves you, more than anything. he would kill for you, and you for him.

over the length of your relationship, you’ve both changed in every way possible, but one thing remains.

love.

“i’m gonna find out who did this.” you reach over and place your free hand over his one holding yours, sandwiching them together. you give it a gentle squeeze, grounding him.

you go speak, to tell him you know, to reassure him, but he gets there first. “nothings going to happen to you.” his voice is gruff and sure.

he moves to hold your waist and lift you onto his lap, straddling his hips.

“i’m gonna keep us safe. i love you.” he brushes a strand of previously fallen hair behind your ear.

although the frustration and anger remain prominent in his eyes, they go ever so slightly softer for you.

the others, are all upstairs already when you and rafe head up. most of the voices come from sarahs room, minus, you presume, jj and cleo. hm.

a chill runs up your spine at the realisation that, you know for a fact it was neither you nor rafe who had taken the glass to ward camerons skull, it being one of the people in the room comforting their closest friend about her dads death, who had murdered him.

that or, one of the two in the room opposite them, who had clearly done something to earn the groups disapproval.

once the both of you had made your way to your shared room, you lie down in the same way you would’ve done had the both of you not heard the blood curdling scream, but the air is different. chilling.

the warmth of small laughs and kind smiles no longer fill the room, and the dark night sky leaves room for everything and nothing at the same time.

you turn on your side, facing the alarm clock that now reads 1:58am. rafe, who was staring at the ceiling like it could offer some kind of closure, turns to face your back and pulls it into his chest, his big arms enveloping around your waist and your chest.

his head is nuzzled into the crook of your neck, hiding from what will all become real life tomorrow.

the both of you are still unsure of how to return to normalcy, even something as simple as cuddling, feeling wrong.

“do you have any idea what could’ve happened? did you notice anything?”

yes. is your immediate reaction after the momentary shock that he let himself speak.

he must feel stupid for not seeing anything, not anticipating this. he hates being in the dark more than anything.

and as much as it hurts you not to tell him, you are maybe 99% sure that what you saw, wasn’t what it looked like.

you vividly remember it now, even though at the time it had seemed like such a small, insignificant thing that… had? to be a coincidence, right?

after dinner, when everyone had migrated back up their rooms, but weren’t yet ready for bed, you had gone downstairs, padding past rose and wards en-suite that had originally been for you and rafe, although had changed when they announced their presence on the trip.

unaware that his hours were quite literally, numbered. maybe one, maybe two.

you don’t hear much, and figure they’re just relaxing.

you had left your sunglasses somewhere downstairs, and wanted them back before someone misplaced them, or mistook them for theirs.

you had reached the kitchen when a clank sound, that you did not realise would soon become familiar, came from the dining room.

“fuck.” you hear in a hushed whisper. a woman’s voice.

you peek around the corner of the open house, and your shoulders drop, relaxing when you take in the scene infront of you. you had been scared for a second, thought it was something dangerous.

you had stayed behind the corner for whatever reason, now entirely grateful that you had, but unaware what it could’ve cost you.

it was just kiara.

she had been getting a drink, clearly.

in her hand was a pristine whiskey glass, which she must’ve dropped, patterns around the rim that you would recognise if in your line of vision again, them being so intricate.

what hadn’t bothered you at the time, her scrambling away without anything in the glass cup, figuring she had her own drinks upstairs, was now eating away at you.

[dramioneshipperz]

Let Me Guess, You're Not Leaving

Chapter Two Sneak Peek

“Jesus Christ, don't be kind to it Honey, don't feed it, it will come back

You know better, babe, you know better, babe than to smile at me, smile at me like that…”

It Will Come Back by Hozier

[hardlypartying]

“We could do that you know?” There’s a thread of light breaking the horizon, the dark sky beginning to change. “Get married if everything else fails.”

“Sorry can’t do that,” Kiara clicks her tongue, “already made one.”

“You made a marriage pact without me?” Rafe leans back to stare at her in offense, his mouth hanging open a little. “With who?”

Read chapter 16 here

Listen to the playlist I can’t shut up about

[urmum-lovesme]

is it just pure angst or a little tiny bit of fluff for the mental wellbeing of all ur lovely readers 💔

it's like 99.9% angst with like 00.01% comfort from our sweet girl Sofia (its still angst tho)

IDGAF ABOUT UR WELLBEINGS 💋

No thats a joke I care very much about your well-beings and I hope you guys are all doing well- my inbox is always open if someone needs to talk :)

[delayeddrabbles]

That sad moment when you have the motivation to make graphics but not to write:

they're literally just sitting in my drafts like sit still look pretty

[maybejj]

what are you most excited to see for twin flames? 🥰

[4urvalidation]

leni when people around her are literally crashing out, telling her to stay away from rafe:

leni when she eventually finds out why:

chapter twelve out TONITE ✨️

[squirrelwrangler]

So when the Wheel of Time tv show was announced, the first scene that I thought of was The Road to the Spear and wanting to see that episode made.

And now I have. And it’s more beautiful than I imagined but also everything I imagined. Just. Perfect.

[evansbby]

lmfao i was literally going to ask if you’d write for rafe 😭😭😭😭😭

i think you’d embody his character really well with his whole alpha low key sexist frat boy behavior (affectionately) but obviously you do you and your writing is amazing

I also knew you were gonna ask that 😂😂 I GET IT SO MUCH AND I GET IT!!! Bc his character is literally what I write my male characters to low-key be like 😭😭😭 so in theory I could write rafe well!!

I also do think he’s hot 😭😭 I just wish I had the time but I barely have time to write about ARI LEVINSON so Rafe is deffo a long shot but never say never!

[beautyinsteadofashes]

chapter three: permanent record (4x09)

People always said it’s the quiet ones you've got to watch out for. He’d never listened. He'd rather keep tabs on the showmen. Those who were compensating, exaggerating and trying to be something they weren't... Sofia had a talent for watching, waiting and choosing her words...There was something crafty about the way in which she did it...They’d leave parties together and gossip and talk shit the whole way home. Home...Fuck.

[araybiaa]

i’ve been revamping this second chapter so much 😭 and i’m still not completely done editing it but it’s getting there!