#rage cameron x you

[nadvs]

cam girl (part four)

pairing rafe cameron x female reader

rating explicit 18+

summary you work two jobs. by day, you’re a maid for the cameron household, where rafe degrades you any chance he can get. by night, you’re a cam girl, hiding your face so nobody can recognize you. when you discover your new subscriber, the filthy-mouthed man obsessively paying you to do everything he can think of, is rafe, you’re not sure what to do next.

» masterlist

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

You don’t know how you got through the rest of your housekeeping shift after being with Rafe. You don’t even know how you got through the rest of the day.

He still wants you to host private sessions for him, still wants to pay to watch you do things to yourself. So here you are, obeying him as usual, sitting on your bed, in front of your laptop, dressed in white lingerie and aching for a release.

figure8 has joined the session.

figure8: hi princess

“Don’t ‘hi, princess’ me, Rafe,” you say. “You have any idea how I feel right now?”

You’re still so pent up from how be denied you an orgasm earlier that day. After work, you tried to study, but you were so distractedly horny.

Still, you listened to his instructions not to give yourself the release you needed until you were on camera with him tonight. And even through the frustrating anticipation, knowing your next orgasm has his name on it, knowing he wants to dominate you like this, is so gratifying.

figure8: someone’s grumpy

figure8 tipped you $500.

figure8: feel better?

You stifle your smirk.

“Can I open this yet?” you ask, holding the box he gave you, still sealed.

figure8: you dont have to hide your face anymore

You instinctually arranged yourself how you always did when you set up your camera, but you realize he’s right. He’s seen your face already. He’s seen everything already.

You reposition to show all of you on the screen, viewing the mirror image, the pout on your face apparent.

figure8: my pretty girl. i cant stop thinking about how your face looked covered in my cum today

You can’t control your smile at his message. Shit. You were supposed to be mad at him.

“Speaking of cumming…” you say slyly. “When can I?” Your confidence is always so high, your attitude so ballsy when you’re on cam.

It’s like the real you comes out, no inhibitions whatsoever. You still can’t believe how speechless he had you in his bedroom earlier today, but you know the next time you see him in person, you’ll be able to talk to him the way you always do on during your video sessions.

figure8: open the box

You sigh a breath of relief, pulling off the pink bow and taking off the cover. On a bed of white silk lays a small, pink c-shaped sex toy. You turn it over in your hands, trying to see how it works. The chat chimes.

figure8: you look so cute trying to figure it out

“Stop teasing me,” you tell him.

figure8: no

You continue to study the item Rafe bought you, slowly understanding what part is supposed to go inside of you and what part is supposed to go against your clit.

But there aren’t any buttons.

“How does this work, baby?” you ask, your frustration dissolving as curiosity takes over.

figure8: ready?

Seconds later, you feel the toy buzz in your hands.

“Are you… controlling this?” you ask, amused. You would have never expected Rafe to be so kinky.

figure8: get naked and put it in your pussy

Eagerly, you strip off your bra and panties, spreading your legs in front of the camera like you’re straddling your laptop.

figure8: wait

You sit with your legs spread, feeling your eyebrows furrow. He’s making you wait again?

figure8: just want to look at that sweet pussy again. you tasted so good

You think back to Rafe’s head between your legs earlier that day, the way his mouth lapped and fluttered over your folds.

You can see on the screen that you have small marks on the inside of your thighs. He left hickies on you with all his teasing. He put marks on you, like he promised he would.

“You like when I do this, don’t you?” you ask, pulling your pussy lips apart.

figure8: i’m hard as fuck

“Yeah?” you coo. “You ate me out so nice today. Hopefully next time you’ll let me finish.”

figure8: so desperate for me

You put your hand at your center, rubbing right where you’re throbbing to at least ease the pain just a bit.

“Can I use the toy, baby?” you try to sweet-talk him.

figure8: go ahead. put it in and stay sitting just like that

You pick up the silicone toy, sliding the bottom part into your hole and shuddering. The top curve rests against your clit and you sit back, hands behind you as you support yourself.

figure8: i love seeing that cunt full

“When is it going to be full with your dick?”

figure8: when i say so

You sigh and grind your hips forward. The toy gently buzzes inside of you and you dip your head back, a choked moan spilling out of your lips.

The vibrations are rhythmic and far apart, but at least you’re finally getting some stimulation.

The other part of the vibrator starts moving, suctioning over your clit. The sensation of both ends working you, of knowing Rafe is controlling it on the other side of town, lying in his bed and watching you with his hard dick in his hand, adds to how hot all of this is.

You arch your back as the toy buzzes and sucks and you start to roll your hips.

The chat chimes.

figure8: keep your eyes on the screen so u can see how pretty u look when you’re moaning

“Okay,” you obey breathlessly. You watch yourself on the screen, tits out, pussy squeezing around the toy Rafe bought you.

He keeps the same low setting on for a few minutes and you softly moan through the sensations. He knows this isn’t enough to make you cum but you don’t want to whine.

figure8: ready for more?

“Please,” you plead. The buzzing in you grows stronger, your walls clenching around the toy. “Shit, Rafe.”

figure8: feels good?

“So good,” you sighed. “So fucking good.”

figure8: play with your tits for me, princess

You sit up, putting your hands over your chest, fondling your breasts. You pinch your nipples and rub your fingers over them.

figure8: my good girl

The vibrator’s buzzing gets even more intense and you squeeze your legs together to get the most out of it.

The toy immediately stops moving.

“Rafe,” you groan.

figure8: you didn’t listen

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” you shudder. You spread your legs for him again and look at the screen at your own desperate expression. Thankfully, you feel the toy move again, but it’s at the low setting you started at.

You won’t complain. He’ll delay the orgasm even more.

Eventually, you’re at the second level again and you quiver at how good it feels.

“Can we go a little faster? Please?” you purr, the knot inside you tightening.

figure8: god i thought i could do this but i can’t. where are you. i need to fuck you

The message makes your stomach flutter with butterflies. The thought of him pounding into you on your bed, of you not having to make yourself cum with your hand or a toy, thrills you.

“Now who’s impatient?” you ask with a smirk.

figure8: whats the address

“Let me just type it out for you,” you say slowly, enjoying this small window of control you’re in.

You type it out in seconds, but keep your hands over the keyboard before sending it to purposely make him wait, tits squeezed together up to the camera for him to see.

He only messages your name and you laugh at his neediness. Then a second message comes in.

figure8: you’ll pay for this

“Scary,” you mock. In reality, you’re really excited to see what punishment looks like to him. You finally hit the enter key.

figure8 tipped you $1000.

Rafe leaves the chat.

The fact that he still paid you is a pleasant surprise. In just a few days, you’ve fattened up your bank account quite nicely just from pleasuring yourself for him.

There’s a knock at your apartment door after what feels like an eternity. You open it a few inches, peeking out to see Rafe, and you shield yourself with the door as you open it to avoid anyone else in the hallway possibly seeing you nearly naked.

You figured there was no reason getting fully dressed, only putting your panties on.

With how much he loves to tell you he owns you, you’re sure Rafe wouldn’t take it well if a neighbor accidentally saw you exposed. He won’t even allow you to cam for other guys anymore.

You lock the door, leaning back on it with your arms crossed.

He towers over you, his presence so damn demanding in your tiny apartment. Your whole place would fit in his bedroom. He probably hasn’t ever been inside a home this small.

His eyes are fixed on your tits, the burning in his eyes giving you a warm sense of satisfaction.

“What was it that made you need to come fuck me yourself?” you ask with a smirk.

Maybe it’s because you’re in your own home, but now you have the confidence to tease him how you always do on cam, the shock of him knowing who you were during your sessions now worn off.

Rafe’s clearly amused, closing the distance between you, placing a hand up on the door as he dips his head to look down at you.

“You’re acting like you weren’t just asking when you can get my dick inside you,” he says, voice deep and dripping with desire. His lips curl into a smile, his perfect teeth peeking behind them.

Your fingers feverishly find the hem of his t-shirt and you start to pull it up, hungry to see him naked again.

“Can’t wait for it, can you?” Rafe asks, standing straight and bunching the fabric between his shoulder blades, pulling the shirt off for you and dropping it.

“I’m not the one who just drove all the way over here to fuck,” you taunt. Your eyes fall down his toned chest, the ridges of his abs. “And I’m needy?”

You love this back-and-forth power struggle with him. It’s like a game, a competition to see which one of you is more desperate for the other.

And honestly, it feels a little like payback for the orgasm he denied you today.

He brings his hands up your sides, sliding up to your tits, putting his cool palms on your chest and squeezing and fondling in a way that makes you sigh with pleasure.

“I have to fuck that attitude out of you,” he huffs. You giggle at his words, feeling your core pulse with desire.

Before you started anything with him, you thought Rafe was just another privileged, entitled asshole who’s painfully hot and knows it. But you’re actually having fun with him, teasing each other like this.

Your hands wander over his hard chest, smoothing over his worked out pecs.

“You can try,” you retort. He leans down and locks his lips on yours. His body curls up against you, your back pressed against the door as he grinds against you, his cock hard.

His hands cup your ass and he suddenly hikes you up. You wrap your arms and legs around him, your damp panties pressed against his hard stomach.

You dip your head into the crook of his neck and he smells like expensive cologne and salty sweat and man, making the tension coil inside you even tighter.

“Show me where you fuck yourself for me every night,” he orders, breath hot against your ear.

You pull back to meet his eyes, looking down at him through heavy lids. You wordlessly motion to the open door into your bedroom.

Rafe carries you through your apartment and lowers you onto your bed, hovering over you as he continues to kiss you roughly, tongue tumbling with yours. He traps your bottom lip between his teeth, the twinge of pain mixing so well with the pleasure.

You feel his hand rest on your pussy and your nerves are on fire.

“This is mine,” he rasps against your lips.

“Yours,” you say.

He rubs over your panties in broad circles, dipping his head down to your collarbone, tongue slowly darting out as he sucks. You’re sure he’ll leave another hickey on you.

You feel him press his finger over your hole, nudging the fabric of your panties against you.

You’ve officially lost all your patience.

“Please fuck me,” you say. You’re not even being needy because he likes it - you are fully desperate. “I’ll beg as much as I need to, okay? Just… please. I need you so fucking bad.”

Rafe pulls away, looking down at you in the dim light of your bedroom. His smirk is so damn smug and so damn arrogant. You’re stroking his ego and he loves it.

“I told you that you’ll pay for that little game you played,” Rafe threatens.

“Rafe,” you moan, squirming below him.

“I thought you might touch yourself the second you got home… but I can tell you listened to me.”

“I did,” you reassure him. “Do whatever you want to me. Just let me cum.”

“Whatever?” he echoes, dimples taunting you. You bring your hands up to his shoulders, nails digging into the back of his neck. This is fucking torture.

“Anything, Rafe,” you promise.

“What if I want you on your knees so I can fuck that pretty mouth as hard as I want?” The thought makes you feel like you’ve entirely drenched your underwear.

“Yes, yes,” you say, nodding desperately. “Please. Anything.”

He laughs so damn pompously and degradingly, like your need for him is comical.

“It’s not funny,” you whine.

“I’d be balls deep in you right now if you didn’t fuck with me,” he tells you. You regret not just giving him your address immediately. Teasing him wasn’t worth it.

He gets up, taking his hand off your pussy and encircling your wrist, beckoning you to sit up.

“On the floor, princess,” he instructs.

You quickly settle on the rug next to your bed, knees on the floor and hands on your lap as you look up at him.

Rafe stands and unzips his jeans in front of you and pulls them down, left in gray briefs that do no work hiding the thick shape of his dick.

When he takes off his last piece of clothing, his cock bucks out, precum already leaking out the tip. You could tease him about how horny he is for you, but you know better.

He starts to slowly stroke his length.

“Eyes up,” he says. You obey and look up at him, knowing the amused, perverse way he’s gazing down at you will not soon leave your memory. You don’t want it to.

He pats his dick on your parted lips, your bottom lip quivering beneath the weight of it.

“You sucked it so good today,” Rafe taunts. “And look at you doing it again. You like this cock?”

“I love it,” you tell him.

He pinches your chin so you’ll open your mouth wider and slowly pushes himself in, his breath shaky as your mouth takes him all.

The base of his cock presses against your nose and you squeeze your fists tight, pussy aching in need. As bad as you want him inside of you, this feeling is so fucking perfect.

He puts his hands on the sides of your head, thumbs pressed on your temples.

“You’re gonna keep that pretty mouth open just like this, okay?” he instructs.

You nod, mouth full.

He pulls back, then pumps back into you. You gag and you hear him groan.

“That fucking sound…” he says.

He bucks in and out again, faster this time. You close your eyes from the pleasure of being used by him like this.

“Eyes.” His voice is husky. You meet his gaze again. “Good girl.”

Rafe’s pumps start to speed up, the tip of his dick sliding deep in your throat. His grip on your head tightens as he starts to lose himself in the feeling, his groans so damn hot that you wish you were recording this so you could play it back the next time you’re touching yourself.

But then again, it seems like Rafe has full control over when and where and how you masturbate.

He keeps fucking your face and you choke again after a deep thrust, starting to slobber on his cock. He pumps once more, deep, and you let out a strangled gag, tears forming.

He pulls out suddenly, his eyes frantically searching yours.

“Is it too much?” The concern on his face, the fact that he’s checking in on you like this, makes you realize just how wrong you were about this man. He is so much more than you thought.

Even in the eroticism of the moment, your heart feels like it flutters from Rafe’s display of care.

“No,” you tell him, wiping the spit around your mouth off with the back of your hand. “Keep going.”

He enters your mouth again and you fucking love it. The way he tastes, how hard he is, how smooth he is. It’s perfection.

Rafe returns to his fast pace, rocking in and out of your mouth, his eyes on yours the entire time. After a few more thrusts, he takes out his wet cock and puts one hand on the base of his length and the other at the back of your neck.

“You need to be fucked, don’t you, princess?” he asks.

“Please,” you whisper, anticipation bubbling inside of you. Finally, his cock will be right where you need it.

He applies pressure to the back of your neck, beckoning you to stand. On weak knees, you lift yourself up and let him guide you down onto your bed.

You lie on your back and Rafe leans down to slide his fingers under the band of your panties. You put your legs together so he can slide them down and off of you.

The mattress sinks as he bows to lie over you, his hands on the bed at either side of your head. You gaze up at him, the planes of his cheeks, the slope of his nose.

“You’re fucking beautiful, you know that?” Rafe rasps.

You’re thinking the same thing about him, but you’re so starved that you can’t say a single word.

Your cunt is dripping and goosebumps spread across every inch of your naked body. And you’ve never been happier that you’re on the pill, so you can feel him fuck you without a barrier.

One of his hands dip low to guide himself into you and you swear that you can see stars once you feel his tip nudge against your opening.

You shut your eyes and hear his sharp intake of breath as he enters you fully.

“God,” you shudder, the weakness in your voice shocking you. Nobody has ever had this effect on you, felt this nice in you. “Oh, my God.”

“Shit, that’s so fucking good,” he praises, bottoming out inside of you.

It hurts a little at first. You expected it with his size. But your body adjusts quickly and you feel nothing but bliss.

You find the strength to link your legs around him tightly, trapping him, afraid he’ll tease you again.

“It’s okay, baby, I’m not going anywhere,” Rafe says with a chuckle, bending to press his lips against yours.

His weight is on you, his dick is filling you, his lips are pulling yours, and you want to stay in the moment forever.

He seems to savor the feeling of being inside of you for a moment, and then pulls back and plunges deep inside you again. You turn your head to the side, away from his mouth so you can speak.

“Harder, please,” you beg impatiently.

“We have all night,” he says. You can feel his smile against your cheek.

You let out a hopeless whimper and he seems to have a moment of sympathy, realizing just how tortuously he’s been teasing you.

Rafe pulls back then rocks back into you harder, jolting your body with pleasure. The bed starts to squeak as he rolls his hips, thrusting in and out of you.

You groan, hooking your arms around him, hands pressed on his shoulders. He presses his face into the crook of your neck, his breath hot on you.

His muscles flex under your palms as he jerks his fat cock into you, rubbing against your walls, reaching deep inside you.

“You like that?” he whispers, his hot breath pressing on your neck.

“You fill me up so nice,” you moan. “Fuck, Rafe.”

“This pussy is so fucking perfect,” he says.

He straightens, holding himself up with locked arms, gazing at you with heavy lids, looking drunk off the feeling of fucking you. Your tits bob up and down with his rough movements, your chest heaving.

“Play with yourself,” he tells you. “You deserve to cum nice and hard, princess.”

You smile gratefully and immediately circle your clit with your fingers, the sensation mind-blowing. Rafe continues to pump in and out hard, looking down as you touch yourself, getting a private show out of you even in person.

He watches you in what you can only describe is awe, and dips his long forefinger inside your mouth. You wrap your lips around his finger, sucking on it as he thrashes into you.

You feel yourself inching closer to your peak. You shut your eyes and arch your back, lips parting as you pant with each thrust.

A million fireworks explode inside of you when you finally cum. You clench around Rafe and feel him go even harder when his hot liquid pools into you.

He’s breathing just as hard as you are when he slowly pulls out. You hate the feeling of him leaving your body.

He collapses beside you, both of you looking up at the ceiling as you come down from the high.

You could pass out in seconds and you figure Rafe is not the kind of guy that cuddles. But because of the rough neighborhood you live in, you need to make sure the door’s locked behind him.

Before you can figure out how to ask him if he wants to stay, knowing he’ll say no, you hear a dreadful rattle.

“Fuck,” you groan.

“What was that?” Rafe asks.

“My heat just broke again,” you say. “The radiator is shit.”

You mentally go through the catalogue of what you need to do - find your extra blankets, bring out the space heater, keep trying to turn on the radiator even though you know it’s pointless.

“Again?”

“My landlord’s an ass. He’s supposed to fix it but never actually does.”

“So… what?”

“What do you mean?” you turn to look at Rafe, the soft lighting in your room casting shadows on his pretty face.

“What do you do now?”

“Bundle up,” you say with a defeated chuckle. “It usually starts working again in a few days.”

“Don’t you… can’t you call someone?” he asks. What a rich person thing to say. Call someone. The answer to everything.

“It’s too expensive,” you say. “And it’s not even on me. My landlord’s supposed to do it.”

“It’s, like, thirty degrees outside.” You’re not sure if he’s teasing or laughing at you right now, but you can’t take it. He can berate you all he wants sexually, mocking how much you want him, but your financial situation isn’t on the table.

“I know you love to give me shit, but don’t… not over this, okay?” you say.

Rafe nods quickly. You’re not sure if this means he was about to mess with you about it but won’t, or if it means he wouldn’t taunt you about it in the first place.

“How much would it cost? To fix?” he asks.

“I had someone come look at it a while ago and it cost $200 just for him to tell me it’s a $3000 fix since it’s such an old system.”

“That’s nothing,” he says.

At this point, you have to laugh. He is so fucking out of touch.

“Rafe, how much do you think I make cleaning your house?” you ask. You hope you don’t have to spell it out for him. You’re a maid. For fuck’s sake, you started to get naked for strangers online to make extra money. You’re clearly not in a great spot financially.

And sure, his tips are helping to cover bills, but you still have tuition and loans and rent to worry about.

Rafe doesn’t say anything. He just looks back up at the ceiling, giving you a chance to gaze at his profile.

This man doesn’t know how good he has it. He’s never had to worry about the cost of home repairs. Or rent. Or bills.

You knew Rafe was from a different world. For fuck’s sake, you cleaned his mansion twice a week - you saw the life he lived. But this makes you see just how far removed he is from what life is like for somebody like you.

“You gonna get on camera for me again tomorrow?” he finally asks. You can’t help but laugh. His mind is in the gutter. Of course. You knew not to expect much from him.

“Sure, baby,” you say. “I like that toy you got me. How do you control it?”

“On my phone,” he says. He shifts in bed, getting up, and you figure this is the end of the night.

You yawn and try to will your tired body to sit up. But Rafe lies back down, his phone in his hand. He must have taken it out of the pocket of his jeans.

He opens an app in front of you, showing the buttons on the screen that trigger different modes. If you weren’t so exhausted from how hard he fucked you, you’d probably ask to play with it right now.

You watch him close the app and tap on the green “Phone” app. He hands it to you.

“Here,” he says. “Put your number in.”

Caught off guard, you take Rafe’s phone - the newest iPhone, of course - and type in your digits. Why would he need to contact you outside of the cam website?

Probably for booty calls like these. This guy is only keeping you around to watch you on cam or fuck you. He only has one setting. Horny.

Then Rafe gets up again, and this time he’s clearly ready to leave, pulling his briefs up. You take a moment to appreciate how nice his ass is.

You wrap one of your smaller blankets around you and follow him out to your front door.

Rafe bends to pick up his shirt off the floor and you notice the logo as he pulls it on. That shirt he carelessly tossed to the ground costs the same as your rent. Probably more.

He turns to look at you, his frame large, his hand on the doorknob.

“This was fun,” he says. “Next time, I’m fucking you from behind.”

“Deal,” you say with a playful shove.

After showering and brushing your teeth, you get out the extra blankets and the loud, old space heater you keep in your closet.

You settle into bed, taking out your phone to set an alarm so you can wake up early tomorrow and get a head-start on studying.

A notification on your screen shocks you. An unknown number sent you $3000.

{ read part five here }

[samandcolbyownme]

Summary: Kooks and Pogues don't really get along, but reader and Rafe make it work.

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, fluff - Rafe is super clingy with you, secret relationship, flirting, secret texting, pogue!reader with possibly divorcing parents, kissing, lying to friends, sneaking off at a party, phone sex, masterbation, choking, biting, scratching, hair pulling, unprotected sex, filth 

Word count: 4.9k | unedited 

╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗

You lay on your bed, smiling and giggling as you text back and forth with your very secret kook boyfriend, Rafe. 

Yeah, yeah. Kooks and Pogues, they don't get along, blah blah. 

But you and Rafe do.

Cannot wait to see you tonight, my beautiful girl. Did you pick out a dress for the party yet? 

You bite down on your bottom lip, typing back a response to Rafe, Wouldn't you like to know, lover boy. 

You tuck your phone back into your pocket and look up just as Kie walks in the door, "So tell me how we managed to get an invite to Sarah's party." 

You sigh, "Okay. But you have to promise you won't get upset or tell anyone I told you." 

She nods, "Ohh I like where this is going." She sits down on your bed, "Tell me." 

"John B and Sarah are secretly seeing each other." You stare at her and she laughs, "What?" 

You nod, "The only reason I know that is because I went over to hang out with John B and.. they must have lost track of time." 

"Oh Jesus." Kie shakes her head, "I actually don't like where this is going." 

You laugh slightly, "Yeah, I was actually shocked when I seen them, but honestly, after talking to them before she left." You shrug, "They seem to be really happy sigh each other." 

Kie rolls her eyes, "Oh yeah. I'm sure." 

You chew on your lip as your phone is one new message away from the secret you're hiding, too. 

"Just.. let him tell you. Don't tell him I told you." You laugh, "As crazy at it seems, it seems to work." 

"John B and Sarah Cameron?" She raises her brows, "That's just.. crazy to me. That would be like rafe and you." 

Your heart skips a beat and you quickly push out a laugh, "Please." You roll your eyes, "Me and Rafe? That would never work, even if I wanted it to." 

Kie looks at you and at this point, your heart is about to fall out of your ass. 

She tilts her head, "I mean, I can say that Sarah is better than Rafe, I mean." She laughs slightly, "he's a psychopath." You force a laugh because you know that isn't true, for you at least. 

Rafe is, literally on his hands and knees begging to see you. 

He's good morning texts and last person you talk to before you go to sleep. 

He's nothing like the Rafe they know. 

Polar opposite. 

"so I guess.. I'm just glad it's them two over the other option." Kie says and you look at her, "Oh yeah." You try not to seem nervous, "I'm happy for them, really." 

She checks her phone, "Shit. I gotta go meet JayJ." She stands up, "I'll pick you up later? We can go to the party together." 

You nod, "Okay." You watch as she leaves your room and you pull your phone out after hearing the front screen door shut. 

A smirk grows across your lips as you read, Please. I miss my girl so much right now. 

You get up, walking over to your closet as you type, Things been stressful lately? 

You always loved how fast Rafe answers you. 

No matter what he's doing, he makes sure to always answer. 

You have no idea, baby. I haven't seen you, I need to feel you. Fuck, I miss you. 

You have never seen a more softer side of Rafe. You honestly never really would, but to your surprise, you were the one who brought it out of him. 

You are the only Pogue he'd ever really associate with in any other way. You have a way with him that even had himself questioning the whole thing for a while, but he got into you having control over him, too.

He still, now jokingly, is mean to you when you're around your other friends, only because he's mean to them, but you give it right back to him. 

And he loves it, but pretends that he doesn't. 

You pull your dress out of the closet and set it down to undress. You slip it on, giving yourself a look in the mirror, fixing it to make sure it shows your cleavage. 

You snap a picture, typing a text before hitting send, Maybe you'll have to get me alone tonight so you can lift the back of this up, yeah? 

You smirk at your screen, waiting for his text to pop up. You giggle as you read it, Was already on my mind, Princess. 

You sit down on your bed and look at the time. You had to be ready in two hours. You bite your lip, shrugging as you start to type, Are you able to call me? 

A few minutes later, your phone rings and you bring it to your ear as you answer, "Hey babe." 

"What's goin' on Princess." Rafe asks with a laugh and you sigh, "Since you said you need me, too, I can't stop thinking about you." 

"Ohh." Rafe sighs, "I see. I see. You want me to talk you through it, hmm?" You nod to yourself, "I do." 

"Mm. Well you're lucky I got some free time." 

You can hear Rafe getting up to shut his door and you smirk, dragging your dress up your thighs with your fingers. 

"What are you doing right now?" Rafe asks, "Besides thinking about me." 

You laugh slightly and smile, "I'm just pulling my dress up my legs." 

"The one that I'm going to be pulling up later myself, huh?" Rafe asks and you sigh as you press your fingers onto your clothed clit, "Uh huh." 

"Mm. That dress makes your boobs look incredible." You can hear the smirk in Rafe's voice and you giggle, "Thank you, baby." 

"Are you rubbing that clit f'me, baby?" Rafe asks and you breathe out, "Yes." You slip your fingers into your panties and go back to rubbing. 

"can't wait to fuckin' have you tonight." He groans, "You're going to look so good." 

You slide your fingers down and dip them into your soaked cunt, "I'm so wet." You whisper out, a small moan escaping your lips. 

"Fuck baby, you sound so sexy." Rafe groans quietly, "Goddamn." 

You arch your back against your bed and squeeze your eyes shut, "I miss you." 

"I miss you, too, baby." Rafe whispers, "Tell me what you're doing." He pauses, knowing you're still kind of shy to dirty talking, "You fingering that pussy?" 

"Y-yes." You whimper out, looking down at your fingers slipping in and out of you, "Need you." 

"You'll get me baby, I promise." There's a softer tone to his voice. Him being so vulnerable with you turns you on even more, "Fuck, I can't wait to feel it."

You grind your hips even more and gasp out, "R-Rafe." You whimper out, "S-so close." 

"Come on baby." He sighs, "Just think about how good I'm going to feel inside of that tight little pussy tonight." 

You moan in response and he chuckles, "There ya go, baby. Just think of me. No one fucks you like I do, yeah?" 

"Fuck." You gasp out, knowing that he's right. 

"Go on baby, say it." Rafe encourages and you pause as you think you hear the front screen door open and slam shut. 

You gasp, whispering quickly, "Gotta go." 

"Love you." Rafe says quickly and you smile, voice still low, "Love you." 

You pull your dress down and stand up, locking your phone before walking towards the door, "Hello?" 

"Oh it's just me, honey." Your mom yells and you sigh, "Thank god." You whisper, you lean out yelling back, "Okay." 

You walk back into your room and sit back down on the bed, texting Rafe, Sorry. I heard someone come in. Wasn't sure who it was, but it was just my mom. 

You sit up, moving over to start getting around for Sarah's party. 

As you're doing your makeup, your phone goes off and you lean over to grab it. You smile as you see Rafe's name, Its all good, princess. Sarah came in asking me to move stuff right after we hung up. 

You let out a sigh, Perfect timing then right? 

You set your phone down and continue to get ready. 

As you finishes getting around, you get a text from Kie, On my way. I'll let you know when I'm there. 

You nod to yourself, I'm ready to go.

You stand up and walk over to grab your shoes. Once they're on, you make your way outside to wait. 

As Kie pulls up, the boys lean out of the windows and yell at you. You laugh as you walk up to the passenger side of the car. Jj climbs into the back, giving you the seat. 

"Aww." You say getting in and looking back at JJ, "How sweet of you." 

He shrugs, "Ehh. Don't mention it." 

You laugh and look at Kie, "Ready?" She asks giving you a thumbs up. You give her a thumbs up, "Hell yeah!" 

You arrive to the party, parking next to the other cars. You get out, walking around and you look at the others as they gather, "So, what's the plan for if we get asked on why we're here?" 

Your eyes move to John B and he shrugs. You nod, "Well just say that Sarah invited  Kie and I and she said we can bring the others?" 

They all look at each other and then back to you, "Sounds good to me." John B says and you all follow him towards the house. 

You walk in, looking around for Rafe. You don't see him anywhere as you follow Kie. You make your way to the back and outside. 

You managed to get drinks and you're finally able to get a sip. 

"This place is packed." You say as you look around, a smirk instantly taking place on your lips as your eyes land on Rafe. 

His eyes were glued to you, picturing what's under neath that dress. 

"It's not bad out side." Kie says looking around and the boys walk up to you, chatting amongst themselves. 

Kie scoffs, "Ugh. Rafe alert." 

"And just how in the hell did the Pogue princess and her dwarves get an invite to my sister's party?" Rafe asks as he walks around to face the group. 

His yellow shirt fitting tight again his body and the backwards head has you unable to fathom any thought that isn't dirty right now. 

"Sarah invited Y/n and I." Kie speaks up and you blink, "Yeah, Rafe." You roll your eyes, "We're not awful people." 

"My sister is in fact losing it." Rafe shakes his head, "Just don't get the fuckin' cops called, alright." His eyes move over you once more as he turns and he walks away. 

You vowed with the group to never fall for a pogue, just like Rafe did with his other kook head friends. 

But literally just one look and you were weak in the knees for him.

"Just don't get the cops involved alright." JJ mocks Rafe as he walks away, "Fuck off, man." 

"Hey guys." Sarah says walking up to you, "I'm glad you're all here." You nod and look at John B and look back to Sarah, "Yeah thank you so much for inviting us." 

She nods, "Anytime." She looks at John B and you knew that look. They were planning on sneaking off somewhere.

You smirk and lean up against the railing, "So is everyone invited or what?" Pope asks Sara with a laugh. 

She rolls her eyes, "As soon as Rafe found out I was having a party, he was also having a party, so now we're sharing the space." 

"What an asshole." John B rolls his eyes and you look behind Sarah, eyes locking onto Rafe. You tried so hard not to smile, you had to bring your cup to your mouth and look away. 

You feel your phone vibrate and you know that's a queue to excuse yourself, "I'm going to go find the bathroom." 

"I'll come with you." Kie says walking towards you. 

You walk to the bathroom and you motion, "You can go first." She nods and goes in. You pull your phone from your small purse and pull your bottom lip between your teeth, Baby girl. You look so fucking good. 

You tap back, glancing up at the door every now and then, Me? Let's talk about you in that shirt and backwards hat. You know that does it for me. 

You lock your phone, hearing Kie rustle around in the bathroom. The door opens and you switch places with her. 

You look down and lean against the wall as you read Rafe's texts, I know what it does to you babe. Partly why I wore it. 

You roll your eyes and shake your head, Can't wait to get my hands on you. You toss your phone back into your bag and fix your hair before walking out. 

You make your way down to get another drink and out to the backyard to find the others. 

You look around, sipping from your cup and you can't help but smirk as you walk right by Rafe. His eyes trail on you the entire time you move past him. 

You guys like fun little cat fights you do to keep things lowkey. 

"Hey, wait a sec.." Rafe calls out and you stop, slowly turning around, "Are you talking to me?" You point to yourself and Rafe nods, "Yeah, Miss Pogue princess." 

He steps towards you, "I'm talking to you." 

You bite the inside of your lip to keep from smiling. You knew he hates pretending to be mean, but it was still fun for you. 

If you're gonna ask why in here, ask your sister, Rafe. I already told you." You roll your eyes and he shakes his head, "Nah, nah. Nothing like that. Listen." He walks up to you and he leans in, voice really low, "Look, I'll try to hide it better, but we both know that I'm madly in love with you." 

He leans back and smirks and you purse your lips, taking a step back as you flick him off and smile before turning away. 

You make your way back to the others and you look around, "Where's John B?" 

"Said he was going to get another drink." Pope shrugs, "But that was like almost ten minutes ago." 

Kie looks at you and you tilt your head, nodding slightly. You basically confirmed you were thinking the same thing. 

"What was that?" Pope motions between you and Kie, "That girl thing you just did?" 

"You're losin' it Pope." You laugh and shake your head, "Oh here they come." You motion to JJ and John B, "Pope was worried." 

They laugh and sit down next to him on the chairs. You look down at your empty cup, "I'm gonna go get a refill." 

As you walk away, you pull your phone out of your bag and block the sides with your hands, I'm thinking about you right now. 

You smirk, glancing up as you make your way into the house, I don't blame you. 

You tuck your phone back into your bag and walk over to the drink table. You pour a drink and take a minute to stand where there really isn't anyone around. 

Rate responds, Do you think you can make it to my room without anyone seeing you? 

Your heart skips with excitement, I'll make it happen. 

You put your phone into your purse and set your cup down. You carefully make your way towards the steps and said a few seconds before you head up. 

You've snuck info Rafe's house just about as many times as you have snuck into his, so you knew exactly where his room is. 

You look behind you as you grow closer to his room. You stop and open the door, biting your lip when he turns around to see you. 

You walk in, shutting the door with your back to it. He walks over to you, "How's my girl doin'? Hmm." His hands slide up your hands and neck to cup your cheeks, "My fuckin' beautiful girl." 

You smile and purse out your lips. He presses his to yours, smooching them a few times, "I missed you." He pulls you in and wraps his arms around you.

You wrap your arms around him and let out a sigh, "I'm glad we can manage to sneak away like pros." You laugh and Rafe nods, he looks down at you, "Did you get off earlier?" 

You shake your head, "Nope." 

He smiles, "I can help you with that." He winks and slides his hand down to yours, grabbing it and leading you over to his bed. 

His eyes scan down over the dress that's hugging your body and he shakes his head, "I wanna rip this thing off of you." 

"Later?" You bite your lip and he tilts his head, "Twice in one night, huh?" You bite your lip and nod, "Lucky you." 

You lay back and smile up at him and he pulls the fabric up over your thighs, "Show me what you were doing earlier, princess." 

You comply, even though you want him to be the one touching you. 

You spread your legs and pull your panties to the side, your fingers finding their way onto your clit like before. 

Rafe's eyes are glued to your fingers drawing circles on yourself, whimpering and moaning as you press harder. 

Rafe inserts a finger into your cunt, slowly curling it and your eyes roll back as you moan, "Rafe." 

"This what you wanted?" Rafe sits down next to you, dinner slowly sliding in and out of you, "Hmm? You want me to make you cum?" 

You nod quickly, "Fuck yes yes yes." 

He leans down, pressing his lips to yours and he sallows your moans, "as much as I wanna hear them pretty little sounds, you gotta be quiet, okay?" 

You nod, biting down on your lip as he inserts another finger. You gasp, looking down at his hand between your thighs, "Fuck." 

You clench around his fingers, grinding your hips down as you rub back and forth on your clit, "Fuck fuck fuck." 

You whimper quietly, bucking your hips as Rafe guides you through your high, "Good job, princess." He presses a kiss to your forehead and stands up, "Now roll over so I can push this dress up." 

You smirk and roll over into your elbows and knees.

You lean over slightly and look back at him. You watch as he undoes his belt to his pants. You wiggle your hips and he smirks, shaking his head, "You know.." Rafe starts out. 

You tilt your head, "What do I know?" 

He smirks, "You're pretty fucking sexy for a Pogue." 

You can feel your cheeks turning red and you nod, "You're pretty fucking sexy for a kook." You smirk and he walks up, sliding his hands up under the fabric of your dress. 

"You're not good for me." Rafe squeezes your hips and you push them back towards him. He presses his hips against you, his hard cock pressing into you, "But baby I cannot fucking help but want you." 

Your lips part as he pushes your dress up over your ass, exposing it to him. He gives both of your cheeks a squeezes before delivering a smack to each one. 

You win, biting down on your lip. You look back at him and he leans up over you, "You got that best pussy ever." 

You smile and gasp as you feel your underwear get slowly pulled down. His fingers brush against your soaked cunt and he bites down on his lip, "you're fuckin' dripping for me princess." 

You take an excited breath, "Like I said, I've been needing you." 

"I'm not gonna make you wait any longer, baby. Okay?" Rafe pushes his hands down and rubs his hands over your ass cheeks. 

You rest your head against the bed when you feel the head of his cock press against your cunt. A moan is ripped from your lips as he pushes into you. 

"Ahh, baby.." he groans out quietly, "Don't wanna get caught now do ya?" 

"N-no." You whimper out, pushing your hips back to meet each of his thrusts. "fuck fuck fuck." You reach back and Rafe grabs your wrist, pinning it to your lower back. 

"So fucking right." Rafe pants out, continuing to slam his cock into you. 

"Fu-Fuck.." you whine, squeezing his cock, "Rafe, baby. Shit. Shit." You moan and squeeze his cock one last time before you let go. 

Your hand goes to your mouth as you try to muffle the moans you have no control over. 

Rafe pushes your dress up, moving it out of the way before he pulls out, spilling his cum onto your back, "Goddamn." 

You sigh, "Uh huh." 

"Alright, baby. Don't move for me, okay?" Rafe says and you nod, watching as he goes and gets you something to wipe you off with.

He comes back and gets behind you again, "So I was thinking." 

"Uh oh." You tease, "What were you thinkin' about?" 

He stands up to get dressed and you roll over onto your side to look at him.

Rafe looks down at you, "Run away with me."

You blink a few times and shake your head, "What did you just say?" 

Rafe laughs, reaching down to caress your cheek, "You heard me." You tilt your head into is hand, actually considering that it would be nice to spend at least one day together without getting any interruptions. 

"No." You shake your head, "We can't do that." 

Rafe shrugs, "Why not?" 

You stare at him as you try and come up with an answer, but you can't think of anything, "Fuck." 

Rafe walks up to you, "See." He chuckles, "Just imagine one week, some place where it's just you and I." 

You chew on your lip, thinking for a second, "Rafe, I gotta tell you something." You lay your hands on his chest, "I can't leave." 

He presses a kiss to your lips and Whines, "You won't regret this." 

You smile slightly but quickly frown, "I need to be here for my mom. They're talking divorce and I just need to be here incase he just decides to leave." 

"Oh baby." Rafe grabs your head and presses his lips to your forehead, "I'm sorry." You let out a sigh, "It's okay. You didn't do anything." 

"No I know, but if I had known, I wouldn't have been there more for you." He runs his hands through your hair and sighs, "Are you.. I mean not alright but.." 

You nod, smiling slightly, "Just you nonstop talking to me helps." 

"I can come over later and you can just talk? Yeah?" He looks at you and you nod, trying not to cry, "Please?" Your voice is low and it makes him frown, "Of course, baby. anything you need." 

He presses a kiss to your lips and you smile, "Then maybe once everything is settled we do that little thing you were talking about." You wink and he just smirks as he watches as you walk over to the door. 

As you open it to go out, you ear JJ and Pope coming up the steps. You step back in and push the door shut, "Shit." 

You look at Rafe and he gives you a confused look, "What's going on?" 

"Pope and JJ, I think they're looking for me." You cover your mouth to conceal your laughter and Rafe puts his shirt back on, "Closet." 

You look from Rafe to the open closet and sigh, "Okay." You walk over and step in, leaning forward to close the door. 

You listen and hear knocking on Rafe's door. He walks over and opens it, "Man you guys are actually searching to get your asses kicked tonight, aren't ya?" 

You smirk slightly and you hear JJ ask, "Where's y/n?" 

"Why the fuck would I know where y/n is?" Rafe shoots back and JJ, being JJ, "Because if she were to go missing you're the first person I'd look into." 

"Well, she's not up here. So good luck with that case, Detective Douchebag." Rafe says and you cover your mouth, trying not to laugh. 

Detective Douchebag. Good one. 

"She's probably just outside somewhere." Pope says urging JJ to leave. 

"Yeah, outside. Where you should be instead of bothering me." Rafe says, "Oh. And when you find her, tell I said she looks hot for a Pogue." 

"What the fuck did you just say?" JJ says and you can hear Pope calming him down, "Relax. He's just doing it on purpose. Come on." 

Rafe closes the door and you emerge from the closet, "Did you really have to add the last part?" 

He laughs, "I mean.. you are hot." He winks, and you know I have to fuck with them. I hate them, not you." 

You roll your eyes and walk over to him, "I don't hate you either." You lean up and press your lips to his, "See ya later?" 

His hands move to your waist and he tilts his head, "Um, that's a dumb ass question." 

You laugh, "I was just double checking." 

"I know." He smirks and kisses your cheek, "Let me check is the coast is clear." He peaks his head out and waves for you to come out. 

You peck his lips and smile, "I love you." 

He smiles, pinching your chin gently, "I love you." 

You quickly make your way down the steps and half way down you realize you don't have your panties on. 

You ignore it and make your way back to the drink table to get a new one. You pull your phone out, quickly texting Rafe, Do you happen to know where my panties are? 

You put your phone back in your purse and you make your way through the crowded house to find your friends, "Hey." 

"Where have you been?" Kie asks and you motion, "Oh I got sidetracked by-" you stop talking when you see Rafe walk out and you sigh, "I'm actually not feeling well. I think I'm going to walk home." 

"I can drive you?" She steps towards you and you shake your head, "No it's fine." 

"Are you sure? What's going on?" She leans in, "Are you okay?" 

You nod, "Yeah, yeah. I just have a lot going on right now." You swore you'd never use it at an excuse, but you really didn't want them mad at you for seeing Rafe, "My mom and dad got into it again today about divorcing and just tensions are high.." 

she nods, "Yeah, no. I completely understand." She lays a hand on your shoulder, "Call me if you need anything." 

You nod, "I will. Thank you." 

She smiles and your turn, walking down off the deck. You can hear Kie start to explain what you told her but their voices fade the further away you get. 

You get your phone out of your bag and smile when you see Rafe's text, Yeah, I do actually. 

You type the screen, Can I know where they are please?, resting your phone down as you continue to walk. your phone buzzes in your hand and you bring it up. 

My left pants pocket. 

A tingle courses through your body and you tilt your head, Not gonna lie. That's hot as fuck. 

You bite your lip as you look back towards the house. You look down at your phone, I'm actually walking home right now, so if you wanna meet me there? 

You hit send and keep walking. 

It hits you that since he knows about your parents along with your friends, they'll all try to come at once time and you really don't want to see that. 

you stop, going to text Rafe but a car pulls up beside you, coming to a stop. You look over and see Rafe as the window goes down. 

You quickly get in and look at him, "What are you doing?" 

He shrugs, "I don't need you walking home looking like that." He nods toward your body and you smirk, "So sweet of you." 

You sigh, "Actually. I can't go home." 

He starts to drive and gives you a confused look, "Why?" You laugh slightly, "Because my dumb ass told Kie that was my leaving for leaving, so they're probably going or, if not already on their way to my house now."

"And you don't want them knowing about us, hmm?" He lays a hand on your thigh, "I get it, baby." He glances at you, "Where do you want to go?" 

You laugh, "Anywhere that I can come up an excuse for tomorrow." 

Rafe gives your thigh a squeeze, "I know just the place." He bites his bottom lip and looks at you and you nod, "Let's go." 

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

Hi thanks you so much for reading! I love you all! As always let me know how you liked this one!

Again, I wrote this high so if nothing makes sense I’m sorry lol

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated! 🖤

[preciouspankow2]

Dear Rafe Cameron,

I want you to bend me over, pull my hair, slap me, spit on in my mouth, dirty talk to me, be your play toy, fuck me into the bed, and choke me.

From PreciousPankow2 ;)

[littletulsajesusfreak]

cooking up my rafe fanfic and creating my mood boards for all the characters! i’ll probably have the first couple chapters out by the end of the week, lmk if you guys want me to post my wattpad acc🩷

[josephandrewstarkey]

beach fight - part 1

warnings: angst, mentions of blood, cussing, topper, fighting, mentions of cheating, Ruthie

disclaimer: this is so satisfying to read — requests are open!!

pairing: rafe cameron x reader

The Pogues were lounging on the beach, enjoying the rare moment of peace. Y/N tried to relax, but the air felt tense, like something was about to go down. She couldn’t help but notice the Kooks pulling up in their flashy cars, parking way too close. Rafe, Topper and the rest of their stupid crew stepped out, making sure everyone saw them.

The last thing Y/N needed was to see Rafe. After everything he did— cheating on her with Sofia. it still stung. they had a thing going on for a while, he changed when they were together— but that all went away when Sofia happened. And now, here they were, together, acting like nothing had happened

Topper and JJ had made a quick agreement not to start anything. Both knew things could get messy fast, so they decided to keep it chill for the day.

Everyone settled back into their spots, but Y/N could feel the tension in her muscles. She couldn’t help glancing over at Rafe, who looked too comfortable around Sofia, his arm draped lazily over her shoulder. Her stomach twisted with a mix of anger and hurt.

Suddenly, Kiara gasped. “Guys, look!”

The Pogues’ attention snapped to the tiny turtle hatch making its way to the ocean.

Everyone gathered around, watching as the turtle moved slowly through the sand. It was a rare moment of quiet wonder, the kind that reminded them why they loved this place.

But then the loud roar of an engine shattered the peace. Ruthie’s truck tore through the sand, heading right for the turtle, swerving dangerously close to the Pogues.

“Watch out!” JJ yelled, grabbing Kiara and pulling her out of the way.

The truck barely missed them, the tires kicking up sand. Ruthie laughed from inside, clearly amused at the chaos she was causing.

“She almost killed them!” Kiara said, horrified, looking back at the little turtles still struggling through the sand.

Y/N clenched her fists, biting her tongue. Her heart raced with anger, but she tried to hold it in. Not yet, don’t explode yet.

But Ruthie wasn’t done. She spun the truck around, her laughter echoing through the air. As she drove past them again, she leaned out the window, holding a drink. Without warning, she tossed it right on Kiara, drenching her in sticky liquid and ice.

Kiara stood there, frozen, dripping wet. “Are you kidding me?”

Y/N felt the last thread of control snap. “Don’t” John B muttered, trying to keep the peace.

But Y/N couldn’t take it anymore. She stormed toward Ruthie, eyes blazing with fury, not caring what anyone said.

“Y/N, don’t!” John B called after her, but it was too late. The anger that had been building for months—Rafe’s betrayal, seeing Sofia here, Ruthie’s blatant disrespect—had reached its breaking point.

Y/N marched right up to Ruthie, who was standing by her truck now, smirking at the mess she’d caused.

“What’s your problem, you bitch?” Y/N spat, her voice shaking with rage.

Ruthie sneered, completely unfazed. “What’s yours, Pogue? Go cry about it with your dirty friends.”

That did it. Without a second thought, Y/N grabbed Ruthie by the shirt and shoved her back, hard. Ruthie stumbled, caught off guard, but before she could react, Y/N swung her fist, landing a solid punch to Ruthie’s face.

Ruthie shrieked in pain, clutching her nose as blood started to drip. “You psycho!”

The Kooks looked on in shock, unsure of what to do. Sofia’s eyes widened as she watched Y/N completely lose it. But she noticed something else—Rafe wasn’t running to Ruthie’s defense. Instead, his eyes were glued to Y/N, a mix of anger and concern flashing across his face.

Ruthie tried to fight back, but Y/N wasn’t having it. She grabbed Ruthie’s hair, yanking her down toward the sand as Ruthie let out another scream. Y/N’s fists flew, fueled by months of pent-up rage.

“Y/N!” Rafe’s voice finally broke through, but she didn’t stop. He rushed over and grabbed her from behind, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her off Ruthie. “That’s enough!”

Y/N struggled against his grip, still fuming. “Let go of me!”

Ruthie lay on the ground, crying and holding her bloody nose. Y/N had done enough damage, but the fire inside her wasn’t out.

Rafe held her tight, his breath warm against her neck as he tried to calm her down. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Get your hands off me, Rafe,” Y/N snapped, finally breaking free of his grip. She spun around to face him, her chest heaving. “What am I doing? I’m doing what you should’ve done—keeping your bitchass friends in check.”

Rafe narrowed his eyes, but Y/N didn’t give him a chance to respond. “You’ve been running around with these Kooks, pretending like nothing matters, while you’re just as bad as them. You cheated on me with her!” Y/N’s voice cracked as she pointed at Sofia, who was standing frozen, watching the whole scene unfold.

Rafe clenched his jaw, but there was a flicker of guilt in his eyes. “That’s not—”

“Don’t even try to defend yourself,” Y/N cut him off. “You lost that right the second you chose Sofia.”

Sofia, who had been silent this whole time, shifted uncomfortably as Rafe’s attention stayed focused on Y/N. She could see how much Y/N still affected him, how his whole demeanor changed around her. His concern, his frustration—it was all for Y/N, and that realization stung.

Y/N turned her back on Rafe and marched back toward Ruthie, who was still sitting in the sand, clutching her bleeding nose. Before anyone could stop her, Y/N grabbed Sofia’s drink from the hood of the truck and dumped it right over Ruthie’s head.

Ruthie gasped, soaked and defeated, blood and soda dripping down her face.

“Don’t ever mess with my friends again,” Y/N hissed, her voice low and dangerous.

Rafe watched in shock, still standing frozen in place, as Y/N walked back toward the Pogues. He barely noticed Sofia next to him, her face twisted in jealousy and confusion as she realized how much control Y/N still had over him.

The Pogues erupted in cheers as Y/N rejoined them. JJ slapped her on the back, laughing. “Hell yeah, Y/N! That was awesome!”

Kiara, still wiping the drink off her, grinned. “You really know how to handle things.”

But as the Pogues celebrated, Rafe stayed behind, his eyes locked on Y/N, conflicted emotions swirling inside him. Sofia glanced between them, noticing the way Rafe’s attention was fixed on Y/N, and it was clear: no matter what had happened between him and Sofia, Y/N still had a hold on him that Sofia could never break.

part 2 here

[hearts4hughes]

HIS - rafe cameron x fem!reader

WARNINGS: suggestive content ; yummy jealous rafe

his eyes were firery with rage as he stared at you. his hand clenching his beer bottle so hard it creaked under the pressure.

you— his girl— were too close to some kook douche bag. his hands ghosted over your hips as you chatted animatedly to him. the smug bastard smirked as you gave him your undivided attention. and even with your back facing him, the holes burnt from rafe’s gaze gave away his presence.

the problem was that you technically weren’t rafe’s girl. you were only friends with benefits. this relationship was even on his terms! he had blabbed on about not liking committed relationships, that he needed freedom and other bullshit.

now, as you laughed, leaning into the guys chest, and grasping his bicep, rafe regretted every word he had said.

his stomach twisted and turned with a green monster inside. finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. he couldn’t stand another minute watching you blatantly flirt with someone other than him.

pushing himself off the wall, he stalked towards you. his steps were determined and angry. his arm snaked around your waist and he pressed a kiss into the crook of your neck, not paying any mind to the boy beside you. your muscles tensed around his body.

“hey, baby.” rafe murmured. “i couldn’t find you.” your forehead creased as he spoke.

“rafe, what are you-” he cut you off by pressing a kiss to your pursed lips. you kicked yourself for feeling butterflies at the small gesture.

he looked at you with a knowing spark in his eyes. then, his gaze redirected to the clearly uncomfortable boy who tried to avoid eye contact. “who’s this, baby?” rafe asks, his hand still secure on your hip.

“no one. i’m no one.” the boy says, his tone urgent and annoyed. you opened your mouth to retort his claim, but he walked away before you could. with a huff, you untangle rafe’s limbs from your body.

“what the fuck?” he smirked at your harsh tone. you didn’t share his amusement. “seriously? you have no right to do that!”

he reaches out his hand to grab your own, but you slap it away. he stiffens his posture as he speaks, “i have a fucking right. you’re mine, y/n.” his tone left no room for a debate.

you stifle out a laugh with an eye roll. “yours?” you say in disbelief. “if i remember correctly you were the one with commitment issues, not me.”

“i don’t give a shit what i said or did before.”

“you can’t just take back everything you said!” you cross your arms over your chest. rafe tries to ignore how it makes your breasts swell. he swallows harshly.

“maybe not,” his voice is soft. “but i can help you forget.” he takes your hand, leading you into an empty bathroom. he stands tall in front of you as he presses you into the sink.

“rafe-”

he shushes you, pressing kisses to your collarbone and cleavage. “just let me make it up to you. let me apologize for everything.” he seductively drops to his knees in front of you. chills run down your spine and an ache settles in your core. his large hands settle on your thighs. he presses kisses to your inner thighs. your stomach flutters as he hikes up your skirt, exposing your lacy underwear.

“i’m gonna show you how much i want you for myself, baby.” he doesn’t want to pleasure you, he needs to. he craves you; craves your warmth and your love.

and as he flattens his tongue on the thin material of your underwear, all previous worries drift away.

[princessbrunette]

⊹ ᜊ(ᜊ ´ ˘)੭ ♡ … SHARPEST TOOL ♡

track five of the short n’sweet series. pairing: babydaddy!rafe x reader. based loosely on the song sharpest tool by sabrina carpenter. enjoy! ໒꒰՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞꒱ა

it’s not like you expected a marriage proposal or anything.

rafe was going to be rafe, you knew that— it was the whole reason he was your babydaddy and not your husband or even boyfriend. the cameron man was bright where it counted but not even nearly emotionally equipped enough to handle the trials and tribulations of an adult relationship paired with a baby. he got the baby on fridays and tuesdays. that was the agreement.

but that didn’t mean you didn’t see him inbetween.

“mmh, fuck— s’mine isn’t it? huh? c’mon—” rafe cups your chin, encouraging you to speak words that were incoherent whines as he drives his cock repeatedly through your gummy walls.

“yours, still yours rafey.”

god, you’d think the two of you were still together. it was sex talk, nothing more nothing less — you assumed anyway. unfortunately, due to unforeseen circumstances in your love life, and the fact you were somewhat soul tied to the cameron boy, you meant every word. there was no way he felt the same, merely doing you a favour even — due to your raging hormones post pregnancy recovery that were adjacent to a teenage boys. he was helping you out.

“this pussy is — goddamn, still as good as the first time i fucked it.” he groans into your neck because you know he’s close.

you roll your hips, forever trying to please him.

as aforementioned, it’s not like you expected him to suddenly come forward with a proposal after he’d finished into the condom. he drops a kiss to your temple like always, cleans himself off in the bathroom, awkwardly stands in your door making small talk, and occasionally decides that then is the time to drop your wad of allowance money that he gives you for raising his kid. you told him to stop putting money on your dresser after sex because it made you feel like a ‘paid service’. he rolled his eyes.

the problem didn’t lie with how rafe treat you within the four walls of your bedroom. rafe was going to be rafe, and that was that. it was how he’d behave upon seeing you in public. you’d think the two of you were merely strangers. if you were to stroll through the country club where you rightfully belong just as much as him, he’d turn his back, look away. like he’d forgotten everything.

at this point, you couldn’t tell if he was nonchalant or just plain stupid. you couldn’t keep chasing the feeling of the rare little nod of acknowledgement he’d send your way when you’d accidentally lock eyes. he wasn’t ashamed of the situation, no — you’d seen him proudly walk around the club with his little girl in his arms, letting everyone surround them, fawn over them. it was you that got left behind.

you’d decided enough was enough, coming to the conclusion you’d ignore him right back. it was approaching the weekend, and you knew you’d have to see him — so you prepared yourself to be strong. resilient. play him at his own game. you were simply there to drop off the baby and go home.

rafe comes and stands by you at the country club bar on a thursday evening.

“usual time tomorrow?” he nudges you gently with his arm, and you were shocked he was even speaking to you. not allowing the shock to cause you to jump straight into friendly conversation, you stare ahead.

“yep.”

“alright…yeah, yeah…” he nods, itching his cheek, eyes glancing back over to you. “i assume you uh, you’re gonna want something to help get you right huh? nothing some dick can’t fix…” you can hear the smirk on his voice and you exhale shakily, not wanting to react in the usual pavlovian way with your panties practically dropping.

so you say nothing. you stare ahead.

the bartender brings his beer, and yet he stays, staring at your profile. “a’ight… fucks a’matter with you?”

“you clearly don’t care, you can skip the formalities.” you find yourself spitting out before you can help yourself. he stares for another moment before he scoffs.

“the fucks your problem, little miss attitude?” he drawls, blinking in irritation but your order comes and you take it and walk away. he doesn’t chase you, of course not.

you drop the baby off the next day, and he tries his luck again, welcoming you inside wearing grey sweats. “c’mon.” he croons quietly, nodding his head inside after you’d got the sleeping baby situated and you stand up straight, look him in the eye, and smile.

“so you can treat me like i’m not a person afterwards? i think i’ll pass.” you turn your daughter, blowing her a kiss. “bye baby, mommy will see you tomorrow.” rafe stares after you, watching you go.

to answer your previous pondering, it turned out rafe was more stupid than he was nonchalant. truth be told, he hadn’t realised he’d been acting all that much differently. you were co-parenting, not a couple — so he figured his time at the country club was his time and yours was yours. he didn’t wanna bother you a whole bunch and put you off visiting.

but the dots were starting to connect, and rafe remembered that women do infact need more emotional stimulation to live happily beside you — and he’d be damned if he weren’t to look after the mother of his child properly. if that’s what you needed, he’d be happy to play ball.

the two of you don’t say much to eachother when you pick the baby up the next day, yet when monday rolls around, and you step into the country club with three of your friends to discuss an upcoming event — rafe cameron doesn’t waste any time.

he cuts topper off mid conversation, holding up a dismissive hand as soon as his eyes meet you and he begins to swagger over to you in his usual aggressive and demanding manner. you think he’s about to give you an earful infront of your friends so you stop nervously, brow creasing. however, when he reaches you — he grips you and brings his lips to yours, cutting off any potential confused greeting on your tongue with a kiss.

“gonna stop pouting about this whole thing now? huh?” he raises his eyebrows and you blink up at him, turning to your friends and shooing them to their table. turning back, you eye him.

“why did you—”

“you think i don’t care about you, that’s it right? like — like i don’t supply your ass with endless money, threaten any asshole that tries to make a move on you, defend you like my god damn life depends on it, fuck you when you need it? hm? nah, nah you really think—”

“wait, who do you threaten?”

“thats— ahh… thats not important, alright?” he scratches his temple, buzzcut bristling against his blunt fingernails as he quickly wets his lips with his tongue. “i didn’t know i was fucking up. okay?” his drags out his version of an apology and you feel the tiniest smile creeping up on you. it was pathetic, really.

“i just didn’t want you to be ashamed of me.” you sigh, looking down and he’s lightly gripping your chin immediately so you looked up at him when he spoke. old habits die hard.

“i’m not. you think i’d put a baby in someone i was ashamed of? that shits for the pogues.”

“rafe.”

“look,” he pulls his sunglasses on over his eyes and wraps an arm around you, the two of you now looking out over the club. the eyes of his friends and yours are quickly averted, having being watching the entire interaction. “i don’t know what more you want, okay i’m— i haven’t done this before. i don’t know if you’re aware but i haven’t had a kid before. this shit is my first fuckin’ rodeo too.” he turns to look down at you through the dark frames, a serious and promising look on his face. “but whatever i need to do… to keep that little attitude at bay, i’ll make shit happen. yeah? even if i gotta fuck you infront’a the whole club.”

he might not have been the sharpest tool, but he knew what you wanted to hear.

[rafecameronssl4t]

Im so obsessed with all your canon fics AND ur rafe x thorton!reader 😭 are u able to do one based off s2 ep 8 where topper is tryna look for his sister at tannyhill even though rafe and reader had a huge argument and weren’t on speaking terms and rafe gets all protective when topper says “I’ll just track her”

Tracked || Rafe Cameron x Thorton!reader

idk where this gif is from soz :(

A/n: thank uuuuuuu 💗 hope u like this :)

Warnings: slut-shaming, swearing, if there’s anything else lmk

Word count: 745

MASTERLIST (rafe x thornton!reader au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

"It's seven feet high, plated in gold, and encrusted with diamonds. What do you think?" The guy's tone dripped with condescension. Rafe's eyes narrowed as he scoffed, "I was just asking."

The low rumble of an approaching vehicle drew their attention. The sound grew louder until a high-rise car came into view, gliding to a stop nearby. The door opened with a careful click, and out stepped Topper.

"Shit," Rafe muttered under his breath. He straightened up, eyes narrowing further as Topper approached. "Hey, Rafe," Topper greeted, his voice attempting to be calm but betraying a hint of nervousness. "I've got no beef, man. I'm just looking for Y/n."

At the mention of your name, Rafe's expression darkened, a deep frown setting on his lips. His jaw clenched as he took a step forward, practically bristling with irritation. "Y/n's not here," he snapped, each word dripping with disdain. "Go find her somewhere else."

He waved a dismissive hand, already turning his back on Topper, clearly uninterested in continuing the conversation. Topper furrowed his eyebrows, confusion and frustration evident on his face. "What do you mean, Y/n's not here? She's nowhere else on this goddamn island." Rafe looked at him in disbelief. "How would I know where your sister is, huh?"

Topper opened his mouth to retort but then shut it, the words dying on his lips. Rafe's eyes flashed with a mixture of anger and hurt. "And one thing you should know, Top," Rafe's voice was calm, though his expression remained hard, "I got nothing against you, even though you totally punked me the other night."

Topper scoffed, his voice dripping with disdain. "Really? Were you too coked-out to remember slut-shaming my sister?" His hands flew to his head in a mocking gesture, mimicking a crazy person.

Rafe's expression darkened instantly at Topper's words. He lunged forward aggressively, forcing Topper to retreat a step. "Slut-shaming? I wasn't slut-shaming her," Rafe spat back, his voice growing louder and more defensive with each word. "I was provoked, all right?" His frustration was palpable as he took a few more menacing steps forward, his eyes blazing with anger.

Topper nervously wetted his lips, sensing the volatile energy in the air. "All right, man," he muttered, attempting to defuse the escalating tension as he backed toward his car.

Rafe's anger flared, his eyes burning with intensity. "You think I want her hanging around those fucking pogues? Huh?" he shouted, his voice dripping with rage and disdain. Topper stopped in his tracks, turning back to face him.

"Is that what you really think?" Rafe continued, his voice rising with every word. "Your sister is on a pedestal, and she keeps stooping low to hang out with those pogues!" His rant echoed in the tense silence, each word laced with venom. Topper stayed silent, his expression unreadable.

"Is that where she is? Is she with those pogues?" Topper finally questioned, his annoyance simmering just below the surface, the idea gnawing at him. "Where the hell else would she be? Huh?" Rafe walked toward Topper, his tone mocking. "Unless she found some other sucker. Yeah?" He spat, his anger evident. Topper shook his head, a realization dawning on him.

"I can just track her," Topper suddenly realized, pulling out his phone as he walked back to his car. "I completely forgot. I can track her on my phone."

Rafe's eyebrows furrowed as he watched Topper. "What? Are you spying on her?" he demanded, his voice rising with suspicion, his eyes narrowing.

"No, I'm not spying on her!" Topper snapped, exhaling sharply in frustration. "She's my sister, and I care about her. I just want to make sure she's okay after that stunt you pulled on her the other day."

Rafe slowly nodded, his lips pursed in thought. As Topper reached for his car door, his fingers brushing the handle, Rafe lunged forward and yanked the phone out of his hand.

"Jeez, give me my phone back," Topper argued, his voice tinged with irritation and a hint of desperation. He reached out, trying to grab the phone, but Rafe held it just out of his reach, a smirk playing on his lips.

"What? Calm down, all right? Just wanna make amends with her." Rafe chuckled, his tone mocking. He glanced at the screen, his expression unreadable, "What the hell is she doing on the cut?" He scoffed, rolling his tongue against his cheek before tossing the phone back at Topper and turning away.

"Rafe!" Topper called out, frustration and desperation mingling in his voice. Rafe didn't stop. "Go home, Top," he called back, his voice fading as he walked away.

~

"I can't believe he did that!" You cried out, tears streaming down your cheeks as Pope patted your back gently, and JJ handed you another tissue. "In front of all those people, too," you sniffled, feeling a mix of hurt and disbelief.

"What he did was pretty fucked up, but it showed his true colors, right?" Pope said, his tone hopeful, trying to offer some perspective as you shook your head. The two boys exchanged a look of concern. "No, no, that wasn't him that night," you said quietly, your fingers fidgeting with your ring. "You're right, it was the devil—" JJ began, but you cut him off sharply.

"No, JJ. He was high out of his mind. I-I thought he only did it occasionally, but..." Your voice faltered, overwhelmed with disappointment and confusion. This time, Pope interjected gently. "Y/n, he's always been a coke addict. You just never noticed," Pope said softly, his words carrying the weight of a truth that was hard to accept.

“But still—” You’re abruptly cut off by JJ, who shushes you sharply. “That’s rude—” you start again, only to be silenced once more as JJ places a firm finger on your lips. You stare at him, puzzled. “Did you guys hear that?” he whispers, his eyes darting around.

“I think someone’s here.” Pope and JJ exchange a serious glance and immediately get to their feet. “Stay here,” JJ instructs firmly. You sniffle and nod, whispering, “‘kay”

“Where the fuck is she?” Rafe’s voice echoes, the door slamming shut behind him. “She doesn’t want to see you, man,” JJ interjects firmly as Rafe scoffs incredulously.“Yeah, she—she tell you that, huh?” Rafe’s disbelief is palpable as he glares at the two friends.

“Y/n! Come out! I know you’re in there!” Rafe’s voice grows louder and more desperate from outside. Inside, you sit up at the sound of his plea. “I told you, she doesn’t—” JJ starts, but Rafe cuts him off sharply.

“Shut the fuck up, pogue,” Rafe groaned in frustration, his patience wearing thin as he glanced between JJ and Pope. “Listen, I just need to talk to her, okay? I’m not gonna do anything, she’s my fucking girlfriend,” he insisted, his voice carrying a mix of exasperation and longing, pleading for understanding.

JJ and Pope exchange a glance, their expressions hesitant and protective. “Not a chance—” JJ starts to say, but you cut in decisively, causing all three of them to turn and look at you. “It’s fine,” you call out, your voice steady yet laced with emotion. You meet Rafe’s softened gaze, swallowing hard before continuing. “You want to talk? I’m right here, Rafe. Talk.”

[goldfades]

WHO DID THIS TO YOU?──RAFE CAMERON

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for this request, for my lovely jo! @wanderlusturous

─ summary | you and rafe are consumed by an obsessive love, where their madness is fueled by each other. you find exhilaration in pushing boundaries, testing each other’s limits, and the deeper you fall into your shared insanity, the tighter your bond becomes. when rafe finds you crying in your bedroom one day, he loses his shit and is thrown into a silent rage, seeking revenge. and you don't mind, not one bit.

─ pairing | rafe cameron x fem!reader

─ warnings | oh my god, where do i even begin?? obsessive rafe, like insane but reader reciprocates it. a few kisses but mostly just insane stuff. mention of drugging (not to reader), hacking (?), idk what else but this is lowkey insane...

─ ev's notes | im gonna be honest, i don't know if i like this... but lmk if yall enjoyed it. it's a little too dark-themed for me and i got into it until i reread it and realized that it was lowkey insane but hey!!! whatever!!! anyway, pls lmk if this was too dark.. or if you enjoyed it. also, sorry to any becca's out there, it was just the first name that popped up. any feedback is always very appreciated!

ok love u bye!!! pls send me requests!!!!!!

⇨ missing out on updates? check out my masterlist!

The night is suffocating, thick with tension that mirrors the pulse racing in your veins. Every sound, every breath, seems amplified, as if the world knows what’s coming. You stand by the dock, your eyes on the dark water ahead, but your thoughts are elsewhere—on him.

Rafe.

You can already feel him, even when he’s not here. The way your skin hums when you think of him, the way your pulse skips in sync with his name. No one gets you like Rafe does. No one makes you feel like the world is spinning off its axis just by looking at you. He’s chaos, destruction wrapped in a pretty face, and you... you crave it.

The roar of an engine breaks through the night. You don’t turn, but a slow smile curls on your lips. You feel the heat of his presence before you even hear his footsteps.

“Couldn’t stay away, could you?” Rafe’s voice is a low drawl, but there’s something manic beneath it, something that sparks against the madness in you.

You turn your head slightly, just enough to catch his eyes. There’s that look again. That wild, possessive look that sets your blood on fire. He’s close now, so close you can feel the heat radiating off him, feel the tension in the air tighten like a noose around your neck.

“Neither could you,” you reply, your voice low, daring.

He grins, a sharp, dangerous thing. “You’re right. I can’t.”

His fingers brush your arm, just a ghost of a touch, but it’s enough to ignite something violent between you. This—this is what you live for. The thrill. The madness. The way Rafe looks at you like you’re the only thing keeping him sane, and maybe that’s what scares you the most.

Because you’re not sane.

Not anymore.

You can’t even remember why you broke up with him a few months ago, but all you know is that it got overwhelming. There was something suffocating about it—about him. The way he always knew where you were, who you were with, what you were thinking before you even said it. At first, it was intoxicating, the way he could read you like no one else ever could, like you were the only two people on earth and no one else mattered. But then… it was too much. His intensity felt like drowning in quicksand, slow but relentless. And for a moment, just a moment, you thought maybe you needed air.

But standing here now, with the salt stinging your nostrils and the wind howling like some kind of omen, you can’t remember why you ever thought you could leave him.

Because there he is—Rafe Cameron, walking toward you like the world is his and you’re his prize, eyes locked on you in a way that makes your chest tighten, your stomach coil in knots. He’s dangerous in all the ways that matter. Not just because he’s reckless and violent (though God knows he is), but because of how he makes you feel. Alive, in a way that hurts. Like the rush you get standing on the edge of a cliff, knowing one wrong step and it’s all over, but you can’t stop yourself from leaning forward, just to feel the thrill of almost falling.

He doesn’t stop walking until he’s so close you can smell the gasoline and smoke on his clothes, the wild energy pouring off him in waves. He looks at you like you’re the only thing that matters, like you’re the oxygen he’s been deprived of for too long, and suddenly it all makes sense again. The madness. The break-up. The inevitable pull back to him.

“Why’d you leave me?” His voice is low, rough like gravel. His eyes burn with something fierce, and you can feel it sinking into you, clawing its way under your skin. He’s not asking because he doesn’t know. He’s asking because he wants to hear you say it.

You stare at him, heart pounding, pulse thrumming in your ears like a warning. But instead of stepping back, you step forward, closing the small gap between you two. Your breath mingles with his, the night air thick with unsaid things, and you feel like you’re standing on the edge of something irreversible. Like if you take one more step, there’s no going back.

But isn’t that what you’ve always wanted? The danger. The thrill. The sick, twisted excitement of being so intertwined with him that you forget where he ends and you begin.

“I don’t know,” you whisper, even though that’s not the full truth. You do know. You left because you were scared. Scared of how much you wanted him, needed him, even when it hurt. Scared of the fact that the line between love and obsession blurred so fast with him that you couldn’t tell the difference anymore.

His jaw tightens, and his hands, those rough, calloused hands that have touched you in ways no one else ever has, reach out. He grips your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze, and for a moment, you swear you can see the wild, unhinged thing lurking just behind his eyes. It’s the same thing you see in yourself when you look in the mirror. The madness that ties you to him, binds you like a curse.

“You do know,” he says, voice dark and demanding. His thumb brushes your bottom lip, slow, like he’s testing how far he can push you before you break. “You just won’t say it.”

A shiver runs down your spine, but it’s not fear. It’s something else, something deeper. Something that feels like surrender and power all at once. You lean into his touch, letting his hand curl around the side of your face, the heat of him soaking into your skin like a drug.

“I couldn’t handle it,” you admit, the words thick and heavy in your throat. “You. Us. It was too much.”

Rafe’s lips curl into a smirk, but it’s not a kind one. It’s dark, possessive. “Too much? You know you liked it. You loved it.” His hand tightens slightly on your jaw, just enough for you to feel the edge of his control, like he’s reminding you who he is. What he is. “You loved me because of how fucked up we are. Don’t pretend otherwise.”

You swallow hard, heart thundering in your chest, because deep down, you know he’s right. You’ve never felt more alive than when you were with him, caught up in the madness of it all. The fights, the passion, the way you both pushed each other to the edge and then pulled each other back, only to do it all over again. It was twisted, dangerous, and wrong in every way, but that’s what made it irresistible.

“I did,” you confess, and it’s like a weight lifts off your chest, even as you feel yourself falling back into him, back into the chaos. “I do.”

The smirk fades, replaced by something darker, hungrier. His eyes search yours, looking for any sign of hesitation, any crack in your resolve. But there’s nothing. You’re not the same person who left him. Maybe you never really left at all.

Rafe’s hand slides from your chin to the back of your neck, pulling you closer until his lips hover just inches from yours, his breath hot against your skin. “That’s what I thought,” he murmurs, and before you can respond, his mouth crashes into yours, hard and demanding.

It’s not gentle. It’s never been gentle with Rafe. His kiss is all teeth and tongue, like he’s trying to devour you, claim you all over again. And you let him, because deep down, you crave it just as much as he does. The fire, the chaos, the way he makes you feel like you’re spinning out of control but somehow exactly where you’re supposed to be.

When he pulls back, you’re both breathing hard, your lips swollen, your pulse racing like you’ve just run a marathon. His hands grip your waist now, pulling you flush against him, and you can feel the heat of his body searing into yours.

“Tell me,” he says, voice low and dangerous, his eyes boring into yours. “Tell me you’re mine.”

Your heart hammers in your chest, but you don’t hesitate. “I’m yours.” And you are, completely, utterly, unashamedly his.

And just like that, you’re back where you started.

───MONTHS LATER . . .

“God fucking damn it, if you don't tell me right now, I'm gonna lose my shit!” Rafe shouts, his voice cracking like thunder in the small living room as he throws the beer bottle against the wall.

Glass shatters everywhere, scattering across the floor, but you don’t even flinch. You’ve seen this before. Hell, you’ve lived it. The rage, the temper, the chaos—it's like a script you’ve both memorized by heart.

You lean back against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, watching him like you would a caged animal—wild and unpredictable. He’s pacing now, his movements sharp and erratic, the muscles in his jaw clenched so tightly you wonder if they might snap. His eyes are wild, blue like ice but burning with something untamable, something dangerous. He’s teetering on the edge, that fine line between fury and desperation, and you know it won’t take much to push him over.

But you don’t care. Not right now.

“Rafe, calm the fuck down,” you say, your voice steady, almost bored. You know that’ll get to him. It always does. Nothing makes him crazier than when you don’t give him the reaction he’s fishing for.

His head snaps in your direction, eyes narrowing as he stalks toward you like a predator honing in on prey. He stops just inches away, towering over you, his chest heaving, breath coming in sharp, uneven bursts. He’s so close now that you can smell the alcohol on his breath, feel the heat radiating off his skin. But you don’t move. You stand your ground, looking up at him with a calm that borders on defiance.

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” he spits, voice laced with venom. His hands are balled into fists at his sides, knuckles white. “I’m sick of your bullshit! You think you can just stand there like you’re better than me, like you’re not a part of this, but guess what, baby? You are. You always have been.”

You tilt your head slightly, eyes narrowing as a slow smile creeps across your lips. “You’re being dramatic, Rafe,” you say, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “What, you gonna break something else? Or are you actually gonna say what’s bothering you for once?”

That does it.

He slams his hands down on the counter behind you, trapping you between his arms, his face just inches from yours. His eyes blaze with fury, but beneath it, you see something else—something raw, something that makes your stomach twist in knots.

“Don’t play games with me,” he growls, his voice low and dangerous. “I know what you’re doing. You think you can just push me around, mess with my head, and I’ll keep coming back like a fucking dog, huh?”

You meet his gaze, unblinking, heart racing in your chest but refusing to show it. You can feel the tension crackling between you like electricity, the air thick with it, suffocating. This is what it always comes down to with Rafe—this toxic push and pull, this need to break each other just to see what’s left after the pieces fall apart.

“You think I’m the one messing with your head?” you say, your voice low, challenging. “Maybe you should take a look in the mirror, Rafe. You’re not exactly innocent in this, are you?”

His jaw clenches, and for a moment, you think he’s going to explode. But instead, he just stares at you, eyes flickering with something dark, something primal. Then, slowly, he leans in closer, his breath hot against your skin.

“Innocent?” he whispers, his lips brushing your ear. “Baby, I’ve never claimed to be innocent. You knew exactly who I was when you got into this.”

You don’t flinch. You don’t pull back. Instead, you tilt your head slightly, your lips grazing the corner of his jaw as you whisper back, “Yeah, and that’s why I’m not scared of you.”

His breath hitches, just for a second, and you feel a surge of satisfaction. You’ve always known how to push his buttons, how to throw him off balance, even when he’s at his most dangerous. It’s a game you’ve played a thousand times before, and you both know how it ends—chaotic, messy, with both of you circling back to the same place.

But this time feels different.

There’s something darker in the way he’s looking at you, something that feels more like possession than anger. Like he’s not just mad because you’re fighting—he’s mad because he can’t stand the thought of you slipping away. Because he knows, deep down, that no matter how hard you push him, he’ll always want you. Need you.

“You don’t get to walk away from me,” Rafe says, his voice low, deadly. “Not this time.”

You feel his grip tighten on the counter behind you, his body pressing against yours as if he’s trying to fuse the two of you together, like if he holds on tight enough, you won’t be able to escape. But he doesn’t know, doesn’t understand that you’re already too far gone. That the very thing he’s holding on to is slipping through his fingers, and there’s nothing either of you can do about it.

“That’s where you’re wrong,” you say softly, a cold smile on your lips. “I can walk away whenever I want. I just choose not to.”

And with that, you duck under his arm, slipping out from between him and the counter. His eyes follow you, wide with disbelief, rage bubbling just beneath the surface. You know he’s about to lose it, to completely unravel. But you don’t turn back. Not yet.

Because this time, you want him to come after you.

And he always does.

Rafe’s eyes darken as you slip past him, and for a moment, the room goes deadly silent. The tension is thick, heavy like a storm cloud waiting to burst. You know exactly what’s coming, and it sends a thrill down your spine. You can almost feel it—the moment he snaps, the second his control shatters. It’s a twisted game, one you’ve played too many times before, and every time, you push him a little harder, a little further, just to see how far he’ll go for you.

You take slow, deliberate steps toward the door, your back turned to him, feeling the heat of his gaze sear into you. You don’t need to look back to know he’s watching, every muscle in his body tensed like a predator stalking its prey. The air feels electric, charged with a violence that’s always been just beneath the surface between you two.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” His voice cuts through the silence like a knife, sharp and biting. You stop, but you don’t turn around. Not yet.

“Does it matter?” you ask, voice calm, almost teasing. “I thought I could walk away whenever I wanted, remember?”

The silence that follows is deafening. You know you’ve hit a nerve. He hates when you challenge him, hates when you act like you have the upper hand. But that’s what makes it so addictive—pushing him to his limit, watching him unravel in front of you, knowing that no matter how hard he fights it, he’ll always come back to you.

Because he can’t help it. Neither of you can.

Suddenly, you hear his footsteps behind you, fast and heavy, and before you can react, his hand grips your arm, yanking you back toward him with a force that nearly knocks the breath out of you. He spins you around, his face inches from yours, eyes blazing with fury.

“You’re not fucking going anywhere,” he growls, his voice low and dangerous. His grip tightens on your arm, fingers digging into your skin, but the pain only makes your pulse quicken, your breath hitch in your throat. There’s something about the way he looks at you—like he’s on the verge of losing control, like he’s barely holding himself together—that sends a thrill through you.

“Let go of me, Rafe,” you say, your voice daring him, even though you know you don’t really want him to.

He doesn’t. Instead, he pulls you closer, his other hand gripping the back of your neck, forcing you to look up at him. His chest is heaving, his eyes wild, but there’s something else there, too—something desperate, like he’s terrified of losing you, like he’s clinging to you with everything he has left.

“You think you can just walk away?” he snarls, his breath hot against your face. “After everything? After all the shit we’ve been through? You really think I’m just gonna let you go?”

You meet his gaze, unblinking, your heart racing, but there’s no fear. Not with him. There never is. Instead, you feel the pull again—the twisted, sick need to see how far you can push him, how deep his obsession goes.

“I think you don’t have a choice,” you say, your voice steady, even though your pulse is hammering in your ears.

His grip tightens, his jaw clenched so hard you can see the muscles twitching beneath his skin. For a second, you think he’s going to snap—really snap—but then, just as quickly, something shifts in his expression. The anger doesn’t fade, but it’s joined by something darker, something raw and consuming.

“You’re wrong,” he whispers, his voice barely audible but laced with danger. “You don’t get to decide when this ends. I do.”

Before you can react, his lips crash against yours, rough and demanding, as if he’s trying to prove a point. It’s not a kiss; it’s a claim, a reminder that you belong to him, whether you want to admit it or not. His hands tighten on you, pulling you impossibly closer, and you can feel the tension in his body, the barely restrained violence simmering just beneath the surface.

But instead of pulling away, you kiss him back with just as much fire, matching his intensity. It’s always been like this between you two—this chaotic, messy whirlwind of emotion that neither of you can control. You push, he pulls, and somewhere in the middle of it all, you find something that feels like love, even though you both know it’s something darker, something more dangerous.

When he finally pulls back, both of you are breathing hard, your lips swollen and bruised. His hand stays on the back of your neck, his thumb brushing against your skin in a way that’s both possessive and tender, like he’s reminding himself that you’re still here, still his.

“You’re mine,” he says, his voice rough, eyes blazing as he stares down at you. “You’ve always been mine.”

You swallow hard, your heart pounding in your chest. There’s a part of you that wants to fight it, to push him away and run as far as you can. But there’s a bigger part of you, a darker part, that knows he’s right.

You’re his. You always have been.

“Yeah,” you breathe, your voice barely a whisper. “I’m yours.”

The words hang in the air between you, thick and heavy, and for a moment, everything else falls away. The anger, the tension, the broken glass on the floor—it’s all background noise now. All that matters is the two of you, standing here in this twisted, fucked-up mess of a relationship, knowing that no matter how many times you try to break free, you’ll always end up right back here.

With him.

Rafe’s grip on you softens, just slightly, and for the first time in what feels like hours, the intensity in his eyes eases. But it’s still there, simmering beneath the surface, waiting for the next time one of you decides to test the limits again. Because there will be a next time. There always is.

“You’re not leaving me again,” he says, his voice softer now, but no less serious. “Not ever.”

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak. Because deep down, you know that no matter how much you might want to, no matter how many times you tell yourself you can walk away, you won’t.

You never could.

And Rafe knows it, too.

───

You don’t usually cry. Not ever. Tears are something you’ve learned to bury deep down, hidden under layers of indifference and biting sarcasm. But tonight, they come, hot and angry, streaming down your face as you sit curled up on the edge of the bed, hands trembling in your lap. The weight of the evening presses down on you, your mind reeling from everything that happened.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Not tonight.

Your phone buzzes again on the nightstand, but you ignore it. You can’t deal with it right now. You don’t want to see the messages or hear the apologies. You don’t want to relive what just went down.

You wipe at your face roughly, trying to pull yourself together, but it’s no use. The shaky breath you let out only betrays you further, and you feel the tears well up again. You bite your lip to keep from making a sound, not wanting him to hear you.

But, of course, Rafe hears everything.

The door swings open, and Rafe steps inside, his broad frame filling the doorway. He looks at you, really looks at you, and in an instant, his expression darkens. His blue eyes narrow as they sweep over you, taking in the tear-streaked face, the hunched shoulders, the way your body is wound tight like a coiled spring, ready to snap. His jaw tightens, and you can practically feel the shift in the air around him.

“What happened?” His voice is low, dangerous, barely restrained. It’s not a question—it’s a demand.

You shake your head, trying to brush it off. “It’s nothing, Rafe. Just forget it.”

But you know better than to think he’ll let it go. The second you met him, you realized Rafe Cameron isn’t the kind of guy who “forgets” anything.

He moves closer, the tension in his body palpable. He’s not pacing like he usually does when he’s angry. This is different. Controlled. Focused. Like he’s honing in on the source of your pain, ready to eliminate it. He crouches down in front of you, one hand gripping your chin, forcing you to look at him. His touch is firm, possessive, but not rough—not yet.

“Tell me what happened,” he says again, his eyes boring into yours. “Who did this to you?”

You hesitate for a moment, unsure if you should even bring it up. You know how Rafe gets—how he reacts when someone hurts you. And this time, it wasn’t just anyone. It was someone close. Someone you thought was your friend.

“It’s—” You start, but your voice cracks, and you quickly bite down, trying to steady yourself. “It was…Becca.”

“Becca?” The name drops like a lead weight between you two, and you can see the recognition flare in his eyes. Becca, your friend for years, the one person outside of him you’ve always trusted. The one person he’s always been wary of.

Rafe’s grip tightens slightly, his thumb brushing over your jaw in a way that makes your pulse race. His voice drops to a low, dangerous whisper. “What did she do?”

You hesitate, but the words spill out before you can stop them. “She—she said some things. At the party tonight. She called me out in front of everyone, said I was using you, that I only stuck around for the money, the attention. She tried to turn everyone against me, Rafe. She made me look… weak.”

His face hardens instantly, and for a split second, you see something flash in his eyes—something dark and lethal. The kind of rage that makes your breath catch in your throat, even though you know it’s not directed at you.

“She said what?” His voice is so low now, it’s almost a growl.

You nod, swallowing hard, feeling the burn of humiliation all over again. “I don’t know why she did it. I thought she was my friend.”

Rafe lets out a slow breath, and the air around him feels like it’s vibrating with the intensity of his anger. He stands up abruptly, pacing the room, running a hand through his hair as if trying to keep himself from completely losing it. But you know it’s too late for that.

“I’ll fucking kill her,” he mutters under his breath, but you hear every word. “I’ll ruin her life.”

“Rafe—” You start to protest, but he cuts you off with a sharp look.

“No. No one talks to you like that. Not her, not anyone.” His voice is clipped, sharp, like he’s barely holding back the full force of what he’s feeling. “You don’t deserve this shit. Not from her, not from anyone.”

His protectiveness borders on obsession, but you can’t help but feel a strange comfort in it. It’s twisted, but there’s something about the way Rafe reacts to these things—like the whole world can burn as long as you’re safe—that makes you feel… seen. Important.

“I’m going to fix this,” he says, more to himself than to you, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “She thinks she can talk shit about you? In front of everyone? Humiliate you? Nah. She’s going to regret it. I’ll make sure of that.”

“Rafe,” you say softly, trying to reach for him, but he’s too far gone. You can see it in the way his eyes have glazed over, already plotting, already deciding exactly how he’s going to destroy Becca.

And part of you wants to stop him. Part of you knows that this isn’t the answer, that maybe you should handle it differently, like a normal person would.

But you’re not normal. Not anymore.

“I’m serious,” he says, turning to face you again, his expression deadly serious. “No one fucks with you. Ever.”

His intensity washes over you, and for a second, you feel like you can’t breathe. But at the same time, it fills you with a sense of power, knowing that he’s willing to go to these lengths for you. That he’ll protect you at all costs, no matter how destructive it gets.

You stand up slowly, crossing the room until you’re in front of him, your hand resting on his chest. “Just… don’t do anything stupid, okay?”

Rafe’s eyes flicker down to you, and for a brief moment, you see a softness there, a flicker of the boy beneath all the rage and chaos. “I won’t. But I’m not letting this go.”

You nod, knowing there’s no point in arguing with him. This is who he is—who you both are. Twisted, obsessive, reckless. But it works. Somehow, it works. And deep down, you don’t really want him to let it go.

A few months later, and somehow everything goes to shit for Becca.

It starts small—things that could almost pass as bad luck. First, her new car gets keyed, deep scratches across the side that no amount of buffing can fix. Then her social media accounts get hacked, posts disappearing, weird comments being left on other people’s pages, like someone is deliberately screwing with her life piece by piece. She brushes it off at first, because Becca’s tough. She’s the type of girl who bounces back quickly, who doesn’t let things get under her skin.

But then things escalate. Quickly.

She gets benched during a big volleyball game when her coach suddenly pulls her aside and questions her attitude. The team captain claims Becca’s been talking shit about the coach behind her back, stirring up drama with teammates. The problem is, Becca never said any of it. But now, she’s got a reputation, and people are starting to look at her differently.

Still, she fights through it, determined not to let it get to her. Becca’s always had her eye on the prize: her full ride to UC Berkeley, where she’s set to play volleyball at the college level. That’s her future. Her escape. Nothing can touch that.

Until it does.

The call comes one morning, out of nowhere. Becca’s shaking as she listens to the voice on the other end of the line, her heart plummeting as her coach tells her the news.

“We’ve received the results of your recent drug test, Becca,” the coach says, his voice stern but somehow apologetic. “I’m sorry, but you’ve tested positive for a banned substance.”

Becca’s head spins, her mouth going dry. “That’s impossible,” she blurts out, panic rising in her chest. “I don’t do drugs. I don’t—”

“I know this is hard to hear,” the coach cuts her off, his voice firm. “But the results are what they are. This disqualifies you from the scholarship and the team. UC Berkeley has revoked your offer.”

The words hit her like a sledgehammer. She feels the ground tilt beneath her, everything she’s worked for slipping through her fingers in an instant. She argues, pleads, tries to explain, but the decision is final. There’s nothing she can do.

And that’s when she starts to see it, to feel the weight of something much bigger pressing down on her. This isn’t just bad luck. It’s not a coincidence that her life is unraveling at the seams. No, this feels orchestrated, like someone’s been pulling the strings behind the scenes, watching her fall apart.

That someone is Rafe Cameron.

Rafe can be physical—he wouldn’t hesitate to swing on anyone he deems a threat. But Rafe isn’t a dumbass. He knows that not everything should be dealt with by violence. Some things are better handled with precision, with patience, with slow, deliberate destruction. He knew that punching Becca in the face wouldn’t satisfy him, wouldn’t give him the kind of control he wanted over the situation.

So instead, he used his connections, his money, his influence, all of the tools at his disposal to dismantle her life bit by bit. A hacked account here, a few whispers to the right people there. He didn’t need to lay a finger on her to destroy her. He just needed to plant the seeds of doubt, to set off a chain reaction, and then watch it all come crumbling down.

The drug test? Easy. A little slip of something into her drink at a party when she wasn’t paying attention, followed by a tip-off to the testing agency. The rumors about her trash-talking her coach? Carefully spread by a few well-placed texts to her teammates, pretending to be her. Her social media? That was just for fun, a way to throw her off balance and make her feel like her world was spiraling.

And it worked.

You know all of this, of course. Rafe never bothers to hide things from you. In fact, he’s proud of it, proud of the way he’s dismantled Becca’s life without so much as breaking a sweat. He tells you about it one night while you’re lying together, his arm draped lazily over your waist as he whispers in your ear.

“She thought she could fuck with you,” he murmurs, his voice dark, satisfied. “But now she knows. No one touches what’s mine.”

You should feel guilty. You should feel something for Becca, after all those years of friendship, of thinking she had your back. But all you can feel is a sick sense of satisfaction, like the universe has finally corrected itself. Becca messed with the wrong person, and now she’s paying the price. And as twisted as it is, you can’t help but feel a little thrill at how far Rafe was willing to go for you, how meticulously he destroyed her without you even asking him to.

“You really did all that?” you ask, your voice low, a smirk tugging at your lips.

Rafe shifts beside you, leaning in closer, his breath warm against your neck. “I told you, baby. No one fucks with you and gets away with it.”

You turn your head to meet his gaze, and there’s something dangerous in the way he looks at you, something possessive and wild. It should scare you, but it doesn’t. Not anymore.

Because the truth is, you like it. You like how far he’s willing to go for you, how far he’s willing to take it. There’s something intoxicating about the way he loves you—twisted, obsessive, and all-consuming. It’s not healthy, not normal, but it’s yours. And that’s enough.

You press your lips to his, kissing him fiercely, feeling the heat between you two ignite once again. Rafe kisses you back just as hard, his hands gripping you tightly, like he’s reminding you that you’re his and no one else’s.

As you pull back, your breath ragged, you glance at him, your voice barely above a whisper.

“She won’t come near me again.”

“No,” Rafe says, his eyes gleaming with a dark satisfaction. “She won’t.”

And in that moment, you both know it’s true. Becca’s done.

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[rafesaddiction]

Hole Practice (or: Golf Lessons) – Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: You want to learn how to golf better. Rafe teaches you a different kind of lesson. Rafe's pov

Warnings: mdni! – heavy smut, sorta toxic relationship, possessiveness, jealousy, spanking, rough sex, fingering, anal (first time), oral (rafe receiving), p in v, cream pie, degrading (reader is called whore by rafe), daddy kink, mean!rafe, bratty!reader, dom!rafe

Word count: 4.3k

“Hey, ain't that your girl, Rafe?”

“What?” Rafe put down the bottle of water he was drinking from and looked at Topper, then his gaze wandered to where Topper was pointing at.

“Over there. The one that is holding up everyone at hole 9.”

“Fucking hell,” Rafe grumbled under his breath when he spotted you. Several hundred yards away, there you stood with a golf club in hand, bending down to place the ball on the ground.

“She got a terrible swing but a real nice ass, real nice.” Kelce snickered and Rafe's head spun round, glaring at him.

Kelce defensively lifted his hands and slowly walked backwards. “Hey dude, chill. I'm just saying those shorts suit her nicely, just paying compliments. Respectfully.”

Rafe tossed the water bottle away, clenching his fists, stomping forward, every muscle in his body tensed up. He was frowning as he felt hot rage coursing through his veins. Rafe was about to beat the living shit out of one of his best friends when a sound made him stop and turn your way again. The wind had carried the sound of your laughter over to him. And Rafe watched you giggle and joke around with some guy, your caddie from the looks of it.

Rafe's hands balled into fists as he watched the two of you talk. That guy had put down the golf bag he was carrying for you and stepped closer. Stepped very close. Too close. He stood behind you, directly behind you, with your ass only covered by those ridiculously tiny shorts pressing against his crotch as his arms wrapped around you, his hands on yours, holding the golf club.

Rafe let out an angry scream that wasn't even a real curse and ran over to the golf cart, got in and started driving over the hilly course towards you.

“Yeah, man, take the fucking cart, so we have to walk!” Topper yelled behind Rafe, but Rafe didn't even bother to turn around. “Fucking unbelievable,” were the last words he heard from Topper, and Kelce's snickering in response. Rafe's hands gripped the steering wheel so hard, his knuckles showing white on his right hand, his other hand coverd by his golf glove.

He drove at full speed, which wasn't that fast with this damn golf cart, but at least faster than running. Racing over the greens, he didn't pay attention whether he was interrupting other people's games. His gaze was fixed on you and that fucking caddie that was practically dry humping you on the golf course.

The cart came to a halt close to you, Rafe jumped off, took a club from the bag at the back and stormed towards you and the caddie, raising the club, fuming with rage.

You and the caddie turned, looking at Rafe stunned and shocked. While you opened your mouth to say something to Rafe, the caddie muttered a curse, his eyes widened as he saw Rafe with the golf club swinging at him. The guy quickly pushed you out of the way, so you fell on the ground, landing on the grass, while he ran, ran as fast as he could with a yelling Rafe chasing him. And Rafe would've gotten him, would have beaten him to death, if it wasn't for your whining noises that made him stop and turn, lower his golf club and walk back to you.

Rafe was towering you, casting his long shadow over you, as you were sitting on the ground, rubbing your ass on which you obviously had fallen, looking up at your tall boyfriend with large eyes.

“I'm hurt,” you mouthed and sniffled.

Rafe grunted, reached down and picked you up. With so much vigor that you practically crashed against his chest. Bracing yourself, your hands touched Rafe's heaving chest, felt those tense muscles underneath the fabric of his expensive polo shirt. You looked up at him with big eyes. He clenched his jaws and his large hands gripped your hips as he held you close. He was still fuming with rage.

“What the hell were you doing?”

You lowered your head, then looked up, with just your eyes.

“I was just practicing holes.”

Rafe's eyebrows raised and he almost choked.

“You what?”

Your eyes went to his chest and your finger was idly drawing circles on Rafe's shirt. You shrugged and innocently explained, “I’m taking some practice lessons. I wanted to get better at golf, so that you would take me with you when you and the boys play.”

You stopped your drawings on Rafe's chest and looked up at him with pouty lips.

“Are you mad at me?”

Instead of answering, Rafe growled and frowned.

You smirked at him, you cocky little brat.

“What are you wearing anyway? Every bastard on this course is staring at your ass.”

“Don't you like my golf outfit, Rafey?” You knew he hated it when you called him that and you did it anyway. His jaws clenched.

You wore a collared blue shirt but instead of a matching skirt or proper golf shorts, you wore the tiniest shorts possible, tightly snugging your curves, barely covering your panties.

“This is no proper outfit for golfing. Those shorts scream ‘fuck me'.”

Rafe's right hand slapped hard on your exposed ass cheek, surely leaving his hand print.

You flinched and winced, then pouted, and struggled to free yourself from Rafe’s grip, but he was stronger and pulled you closer and slapped your ass again. His palm tingled, and from the look on your face, your cheek must be burning.

His fingers grabbed your chin to lift your face as he leaned down.

“I’m gonna teach you holes now,” he whispered, darkly, close to your lips.

Your cheeks flushed. He grinned devilishly. With all your bratty behavior and cockiness, Rafe was still able to make you blush. His mouth claimed yours in a hungry kiss, tongue pushing in, he took what was his, as he held your body close.

When he let go, your cheeks were still flushed, your lips swollen and you were slightly out of breath.

“Since you have chased my caddie away, you will have to carry my golf bag,” you announced and turned to look for your ball.

Rafe grumbled but shouldered the damn golf bag and followed you.

“Where's that damn thing anyway?” He asked when he had caught up with you.

“There,” you pointed at the gorse.

Rafe exhaled. “We're not getting it out of there. Just take a new one.”

“No, that would be cheating, I'm gonna get it.”

“Y/n, fucking don't!”

But you ignored his words and stomped onwards, right into the gorse – and with every step you took, your ass was bouncing invitingly.

“Fuck's sake,” Rafe grumbled and followed you.

He found you bent over, legs straight, head down, ass up, hands touching the high grass, looking for your ball.

Rafe's own balls tightened at the sight. That perky ass, those tiny shorts hardly covering anything, that red mark on your bare skin – he had been correct, his hand print was showing.

His growl made you turn your head at him, but not lift your upper body.

“I think I've found it, but it's stuck.”

Rafe grumbled, walked closer. Walking with his dick getting harder was damn uncomfortable.

“Fuck's sake,” he repeated.

“What?” You asked innocently, wriggling your fine ass.

“Enough,” Rafe barked and you flinched at his harsh tone.

Before you could get up, he grabbed you, threw you over his shoulder. You squealed and his hand smacked your ass several times, making you mewl. Rafe carried you out of the gorse, over the greens to the golf cart.

“Ouch,” you mouthed and pulled a face as you were seated on your ass, sore from his spanking.

He got in the cart, sat behind the steering wheel and shot you a sideways glance. His eyes narrowed.

“Stop complaining, that was nothing yet.”

“Where are we going?” You sniffled.

“To the club,” he stated tersely. He knew he wouldn't make it back home to Tanny Hill, with his dick already achingly hard. A room at the club would do, and he knew there would always be one available – the perks of being a premium member.

“But what about my lessons?” You looked at Rafe, sulking.

“Oh, your lessons ain't over yet.”

He could see you nibbling at your bottom lip, something you did when you were nervous or excited or both.

While he was driving across the course, he tried to look where he was going, but you kept on wriggling in your seat, which was fucking irritating.

“Stop that!” He faced you briefly and lifted his hand, a warning gesture.

“Sorry, daddy,” you said sweetly, leaned forward, and your mouth covered Rafe's finger. Sucking on it, you looked at him with large eyes, your lips closed tightly around the digit, your tongue swirling around it.

“Jesusfuckingchrist!” Rafe almost ran over some gaffer – not that he would've cared.

Rafe tried to get back on track while his cock was pulsing. You took his hand, guided it between your legs, rubbing over your thighs as you spread them. His hand touched the fabric of those damn shorts, and Rafe could feel that you were already soaking wet, those layers of clothing couldn't even hide that.

You began moaning as you were rubbing his hand against your core.

He pulled it away, raised it, finger pointing, and glared at you angrily.

“Don't!”

You pouted, crossed your arms in front of your chest and looked away. But Rafe grabbed your jaw forcefully, turning your face to look at him, pressing harder than necessary, which made you wince and gaze at him.

“You don't touch yourself unless I allow you. You know the rules.”

He kept his eyes on you while still driving.

“You hear me?” His voice loud and intimidating.

You cast your eyes down and mumbled, “Yes, daddy.”

His cock twitched in his pants, which were getting too damn tight by now.

When he let go, you added, hardly audible, “But I didn't touch myself, it was your hand…”

You probably thought that he didn't hear that as he didn't react to it right away, but he did hear it, and it drove him fucking insane. And you would experience soon enough how mad he was because of you.

Rafe parked the golf cart close to entrance of the main building, got out, grabbed your arm, so hard he would leave bruises, and dragged you along with him. You could hardly keep up, he was walking so quickly, and with his tall legs, he was able to make longer strides.

At the reception no one questioned why Rafe was holding you in such a tight grip while you were obviously struggling to escape. He asked for the key card to a room and he got it and on top of that, the receptionist wished him a pleasant day. Rafe growled in response.

He shoved you towards the elevator and got inside with you. It cost him a lot not to ravish you the moment the doors closed. The grip around your arm was iron. When the doors opened, he pushed you out, along the corridor to the room. After opening it with the key card, he forcefully pushed you inside. You stumbled and almost fell, but caught yourself on the edge of the king-size bed.

Right after he had let go off you, he started to undress himself, pulled his shirt over his head and kicked off his shoes.

“Take off those goddamn shorts and get on the bed. Now.” His commanding voice left you no choice but to obey. You looked at him, eyes wandering over his naked body as you undressed yourself, taking the shorts together with the panties off last. He frowned at you, but your eyes were on his rock hard cock that he was stroking, while glaring at you.

You climbed onto the bed. Impatiently, he walked over and grabbed you, moved you around as he wanted to have you, flipping you over, then pulling your body up, so you were on all fours now, while he kneeled behind your spread legs.

Rafe leaned over your body, his chest touching your back, his hand grabbed your throat, forcing your head up, a restrained sound coming from your opened mouth.

“You gonna be a good whore, right?” He cooed into your ear.

With his free hand, he guided his hard length between your legs, rubbing it along your dripping wet slit, covering it nicely in your juices. You mewled and started wriggling.

“Please,” you moaned, already so needy.

He turned your face to shut those desperate moans with his greedy kiss, while his cock was replaced by his fingers, which where rubbing along your slit, parting your folds, but never quite entering and never touching your clit. You were so incredibly wet, his fingers were practically dripping as he pulled them away and sat up behind you, letting go off your throat, leaving you with a confused look on your face.

“I still need to teach you a lesson.”

You opened your mouth, trying to say something, but Rafe continued, a sardonic grin on his face.

“The lesson is: If you wear such tiny shorts, hardly covering your ass, but showing it off, inviting everyone to fuck it, you get fucked up the ass, like the whore you are.”

“But –” you started to complain, but a slap of his hand on your ass made you cry out instead.

Despite it being such a fine piece of flesh, Rafe had never fucked your ass before, only put a finger or two inside your tight hole once or twice. You didn't have proper training yet, but you needed to learn that your teasing had consequences.

He spat on his already wet fingers and stroked between your ass cheeks. You whined, but he knew that it was a sound you made when you were impatient. You wouldn't have to wait long – though it wasn't what you actually waited for, he knew that. Rafe gripped you by the hip, as his fingers pushed against your back entrance. Your muscle was tense and instead of opening up for him, it closed. Rafe growled and he felt your body shudder. His grip got firmer, preventing you from retreating as his index finger pushed inside, stretching your tight ring.

“It hurts, daddy,” you whined and craned your neck to look back at Rafe.

He slowly moved his finger back and forth inside you. Your breathing hitched as he curled that finger in your tight hole. Your muscle was clenching so hard around his digit, it almost made it impossible to move it.

He let go off your hip to hit your ass cheek.

“Relax! Or it'll just hurt more.”

Your answer was a whining sound and you let your head hang between your shoulders.

Rafe pushed your legs further apart to get better access, pressed on your lower back and you obeyed by arching your back nicely. He grinned at the sight. You were completely exposed to him and at his mercy.

He pulled his finger out, only to push back in two fingers, thrusting deep and hard.

You let out a scream and started begging.

“Daddy, daddy, please,” you whined.

His fingers fucking your ass, he let his hard cock teasingly brush along your pussy, never applying too much pressure, just enough to tease you. When he pulled back, his cock was covered in your wetness.

“So wet for me. Such a needy whore you are.”

His fingers left your hole, the tight muscle pulsing invitingly. He rubbed some more spit on it and felt you shiver under his touch.

He took his cock in his hand, guiding it, stroking your round ass cheeks with it, before pressing the wet tip against your throbbing little hole.

“You gonna take it like the good whore you are, hm? Your my little whore, right?”

You mewled and panted.

He waited.

“Daddy, daddy,” you whined.

Then he heard you inhale and exhale deeply, pushing your ass up, that little hole twitched and opened up, inviting him in, and he pushed in.

You cried out as his cock's thick head stretched your tender muscle. He needed both his hands now to grip your hip, fingers digging into your flesh, holding you in place, as he greedily watched his thick cock slowly pushing into your fine ass.

Your screaming turned into an irregular whimpering as the thick head was practically sucked into your ass.

“So, good,” Rafe praised you, his own breathing heavy. “You're doing so good, baby, taking me so good. Such a good whore.”

His thumb caressed your hip, he felt you relax just the tiniest bit. He tensed up, tightened his grip again and thrust his hip forward, making your body almost jump forward by the force, if he hadn't held you that firmly.

He growled as your walls clenched around his cock, but he pushed deeper. Pulling back, he gasped as your sensitive muscle was clamping so hard around his thick cock.

“So good, baby,” he said under heavy breathing.

He pushed in, watching with greedy fascination how his too big cock vanished inch by inch into your perfect ass, stretching your too tight hole mercilessly.

“Daddy! I can't!” You cried out, sobbing now.

“You can and you will.”

He began moving in a steady rhythm, fucking your tight ass good and hard. He didn't push too hard though, knowing well what you could take. You were sobbing and crying and whining, but he didn't stop, he knew your body better than you did, and he knew that you could do this. Your little protests, your screams and moans and whimpers made him only go harder.

He couldn't get it all in though, you were too tight and not trained, and he was too big. Part of him got angry about that, but you felt so damn good, he could use you so damn well that it seemed enough.

Then he saw your hand move between your legs, you were desperately trying to touch yourself. But Rafe didn't let you.

He angrily growled, slapped your ass hard, making you flinch. Then he grabbed your hand by the wrist, twisting your arm behind your back and holding it there.

You cried out in pain.

“I told you not to do that!” He growled between clenched teeth. You were driving him mad, so fucking mad.

Your body shook and trembled under his hard thrusts as he took what was his, took you without mercy. Pounding you harder, his growing anger made him lose all restraint.

You were so tight, the friction was so intense, the sounds you made were so hot, Rafe felt his climax approaching and he didn't hold back. He felt his every muscle tense up, then let go, gasping for air, as he reached his orgasm, shooting his cum into you. His whole body electrified and in that post orgasmic bliss, he pushed again into your well-used hole, once, twice, driving his load deeper into you, before pulling out. When he let go off you, you just face down collapsed onto the bed, breathing hard, a fucking mess. He grinned at the sight of you.

“My whore,” he whispered into your ear, leaning down, kissing your damp hair, before he got up. His own breathing slowing down eventually.

Watching you lie there, and wriggle and pant, he knew you hadn't reached your climax yet.

“Don't you dare move”, his voice a dark command.

He waited for a moment. And this time it seemed you were actually listening, probably fearing the consequences. Had you learned your lesson after all? He doubted that, you were such a brat and would always be. Since you didn't move, just lay there panting, Rafe went into the adjoining bathroom to clean himself.

When he came back, you were lying in the same position on the bed, on your stomach, arms away from your body, legs apart, your body raising and falling from your exhausted breathing, cum dripping out of your hole between your reddened cheeks. Rafe grinned at the sight of the mess he had turned you into.

He sat down on the bed, still naked, back resting against the headboard, his legs on the bed, he was sitting next to you, not touching you, but you could definitely feel the bed tilt from his weight, feel his proximity, as he felt the heat radiating from your body.

You lifted your head, turned your face to gaze at him with teary eyes.

“You're such a mess,” he grinned at you, his hand caressing your face.

“Did you cum?” He asked, but already knew the answer.

You shook your head.

“You wanna cum?”

You nodded eagerly.

“Then you know what to do,” he simply said.

You got up on your knees next to him, sat down on your heels, flinching as they poked into your sore ass cheeks.

“Please daddy can I cum?” You looked at him with pleading eyes.

“And how do you wanna cum?” It wasn't a real question, more of a test.

Still, you seemed to contemplate the answer, biting your bottom lip. Your gaze turned to his cock, though not hard, still impressive. Then your eyes moved to his hands. Those hands that knew how to hold you, to touch you. Then your look was on his face. Yours was a beautiful mess. Your lips swollen, your cheeks flushed, your eyes teary and bloodshot, tears and sweat had ruined your makeup and smeared mascara all over your face. God, you were so beautiful.

“With your cock inside me.”

The way you said those words, with such sincerity and almost solemn honesty, it made his cock twitch in response.

But words weren't enough.

“Then work for it.”

In an inviting, almost generous gesture, he pointed at his crotch.

You very willingly accepted the invitation, moved closer, bent over, and Rafe hissed as your greedy little mouth took in his thick cock, sucking hard at it, tongue swirling along the tip. One hand clasping the thick shaft, you steadied yourself with the other hand on his thigh. You gazed sideways up at him, when you began bobbing your head.

Rafe's breathing quickened, as he felt his cock growing in your mouth. His hands clutched the expensive bedsheets, stopping himself from forcing your head down further. You were already gagging on his length, not nearly half of it in your mouth.

Your efforts did some good, but he wasn't ready yet.

He grabbed you by the hair to pull you up, made you whimper, spit dripping from your swollen lips, as you were gazing at him.

“Ride it.”

His command made you freeze and visibly shudder, but you hurried to follow his order. As he let go off your hair, you straddled him, mewling when his thick length pressed against your sensitive core, too long neglected, it seemed.

He gripped your jaws hard, made you focus on him. His piercing eyes glaring at you.

“Don't you dare cum before I’m inside of you. Understood?”

You tried to nod, which was hard with his tight grip at your jaws, but your pleading eyes told him, you had understood him.

“Good.” He leaned forward to kiss you hard, before letting go and leaning back in the pillows.

Your hands ran over his muscular torso. You bit your lips, looking at his hard abs, as you began rocking your hips against him, your tits bouncing nicely. He grabbed them, kneaded them with both his hands, felt how you flinched and tensed up, as you felt his greedy hunger. His cock pulsing under you.

You closed your eyes, as if you would focus on the slick sounds your pussy made when slapping against his hard dick.

“Turn around.” Rafe's voice made your eyes flutter open. “Let me see that ass that you want the whole golf club to fuck. Let me see that ass that only belongs to me.”

Rafe added an encouraging slap on your ass to stress his command. He even helped you to turn, sit down, astride with your back to him, while you did nothing more than make those small needy sounds that drove him insane with lust.

His hand pushed on your upper back, making you bent down a bit, holding onto his legs.

He had the perfect view of your ass and pussy. His cum dripping from your ass mixing with your own wetness dripping from your pussy.

Two fingers dipped into your cunt, making you squirm and mewl and beg.

“Daddy…”

You clenched around his digits and he slapped your ass.

Pulling out his fingers, he lifted you up, pushed you into position, guiding his now rock hard cock to your pussy and pushed in. Rafe grabbed your hair to get you into an upright position again. His hands on your hips, guiding your movements as his hips rocked hard against yours, pushing his whole length into you as you sank down onto him.

“Rafe, Daddy, fuck,” you stammered, your whole body shuddered and you were completely undone, cumming all over his cock just from his first thrust into you.

And he fucked you through your high, not stopping when you were all spent. Using you over and over again.

You were such a good whore for him. And all your holes were his.

a/n: writing this was a lot of fun. i don't know shit about golf. thanks for reading. i hope you enjoyed it. reblogs and comments are very much appreciated, and likes too! i've only been doing this for 2 weeks now and i'm kinda overwhelmed that my first x reader smut fic got over 1k notes! thank you all so much! i got ideas for many more fics. let me know what you'd like to read! p.s. happy kinktober!

[nadvs]

the act of unravelling (part one)

pairing rafe cameron x pogue! female reader

rating mature 18+

summary you never expected you’d get tangled up with a kook, least of all, rafe cameron. one night, you make a life-altering decision to get revenge on someone you both despise. after you vow to keep what happened a secret, your relationship begins to twist into something more.

tags very dark! violence, homicide, drug and alcohol use, parental neglect, mental illness, s/a, trauma. no smut.

author’s note thank you to this anon!! this fic deviates from canon. timeline is s2 when rafe is at his most unhinged.

» masterlist

disclaimer there is no explicit s/xual assault scene in this story, but it is referenced and the trauma that comes with surviving it is explored. when writing this, i pulled from personal experience, so please be mindful that if you comment, do not engage in any victim-blaming as it is triggering to me and others.

·········

In a single harrowing moment, you’ve learned that there’s truth to the expression that the enemy of your enemy can be your friend.

Rafe looks all too comfortable holding a gun. The rage coursing through you is deafening, persuading you that the person he’s pointing it at deserves to die.

And then, you utter the words rising in your throat.

“Do it.”

╰┈➤ two days earlier

Your shifts at the country club are a repetitive motion of driving over the golf course’s hills, handing the island’s wealthiest people their overpriced drinks, and accepting their money with a fake smile.

The job was always a predictable bore. Until a week ago, when you started seeing a familiar face.

The moment Rafe’s eyes landed on you and he realized that one of the Pogues he revels in berating is the new cart girl, his lips twitched into a smirk.

Every time you see him, he does the same thing. He orders a beer and says here you go, sweetheart when he tips you.

It’s always a fifty. No other club member gives you nearly this much. It’s like he loves reminding you that this type of money is pocket change to him.

Every time you serve him, you subdue your glare and take the crisp bill that sits between his fingers, wondering why even though the man is an arrogant asshole, you can’t stop staring at him.

You feel weak for not hating him all the way. You can’t help that over the years of your tense, sporadic interactions, a part of you has always wondered if he feels the same pull of attraction that you do.

You have to remind yourself of who he is. A man committed to letting everyone know how much better he thinks he is because he was lucky enough to be born into money. He’s heartless. And you can’t wait for the day that you finally rid yourself of this fixation you have for him.

It’s a sunny Thursday afternoon at the end of a long shift and you’re parked by one of the paved pathways on the course, recording your last transaction in your logbook.

You hear the familiar whirring of a cart passing by. It stops. You don’t think much of it until you hear his voice.

“We’ll take two beers,” he calls from behind the steering wheel. You look up to see him. Rafe.

“I’m obviously off duty,” you reply curtly, looking between him and his friend.

“What, so you can write in your diary, but you can’t give us some drinks?” he calls.

“It’s a logbook,” you reply coldly. “It’s called having–”

You flatten your lips together, trying to control yourself.

“Having…?” he challenges. The mocking tone of his voice is what makes you snap.

“A job,” you reply. “Not everyone can live off of daddy’s money.”

Rafe huffs a laugh, a wisp of amusement flashing on his face.

“Careful, Pogue,” he says. “What’ll your boss say if he knows that’s how you’re talking to me?”

“I’m off the clock, Kook,” you say the label with the same vitriol. “I can talk however I want.”

You close your book and start up your cart before he can irritate you any more. Even though there’s something aggravatingly magnetic about him, you refuse to allow him to taunt you any longer.

·········

You meet up with your friends on the beach that evening, zoning out as the three of them chatter around you, passing a joint you brought.

You stare ahead at the soft waves under the setting sun, thinking of Rafe’s cold stare, thinking of the smirk he seems to always have etched on his face reserved especially for you, thinking of how you wish your body would catch up with your mind because how can you dislike somebody this much but also be so attracted to them?

“Who’s your plug?” JJ asks, seemingly impressed. He pulls you out of your daze as he passes you the joint. Smoke curls out of the end of it, twisting in the wind.

“That guy, Porter,” you say flatly. You take a puff, thinking back to the shaggy-haired Kook who approached you at a party on the north side of the island the other night, offering you half the price on your first buy.

He also tried to convince you to try something harder, but you told him you’re sticking to pot. You weren’t about to get hooked on coke, especially not because a drug-dealing Kook wants to take more of your money.

You continue to stare ahead, passing the joint along.

“What a trust fund kid name,” JJ laughs. “Fuckin’ Porter.”

Your friends chuckle around you, but you continue to stare ahead.

“Hard day at the office?” he says in response to your absentmindedness. You meet JJ’s gaze, shaking your head as if to dismiss your own thoughts.

“Rafe is such an asshole,” you say.

“What’d he do this time?” Pope asks. Your friends await your response, already well aware of your history with the bullshit you’ve ever had to deal with at work lately.

“He said something about ratting me out to my boss for talking back to him,” you reply. You scoff, getting mad all over again. You need to pull yourself out of this funk. “Whatever. All I do is complain about him. He’s not worth it. This is the last time you’ll ever hear me talk about him. I mean it.”

You make an effort to join in your friends’ conversations, feeling guilty that you’re so spaced out. With parents who never give you much attention at all, the guys surrounding you are your family. Your brothers. They deserve better than to hear you ramble on about Rafe.

Rafe’s eyes travel over the silhouettes sitting along the darkening shoreline when he arrives at the beach with his friends.

It’s the sound of his pick-up truck’s door shutting that gets your attention. You look over your shoulder. Then, you glance away, indifference on your face.

It pisses him off. Rafe has always craved what he can’t have. Power. Self-control. You. Every time he talks to you, you act like he’s such a bother, a sharp thorn in your side.

You get under his skin. And he’s never wanted a girl this bad. A goddamn Pogue of all people. Something about you lures him in. It makes him want to see what really lies behind the irritation that burns in your eyes every time he speaks to you.

He needs to crack your armor. And he has always loved a challenge.

As the beach populates, the division between the Kooks and the Pogues is clear, as if an invisible line is drawn in the sand. He stays on your side, you stay on yours.

When night falls, you and your friends have all smoked through the entire joint, and you’re a bit buzzed but not nearly as high as you’d like to be.

You spot Porter by the shoreline, drinking with his friends, and dust the sand off your knees when you stand up.

“I’m gonna go buy some more,” you say to your friends.

“Going into enemy territory?” JJ asks.

“It’s nothing new to me,” you laugh. “I work in enemy territory, remember?”

“You need company? Or cash?” John B asks.

“All good. My treat,” you say. “I’m loaded with tips.”

You don’t mention that a majority of the money in your pocket is from Rafe.

As you approach the boisterous group, you cross your arms and feign confidence. In reality, being around these types has always put you on edge.

Kooks give off a sense of invincibility, almost impunity, like predators at the top of the food chain, perpetually safe from harm and always on the brink of inflicting it.

You notice Rafe’s stare on you from his place in the large group and your stomach twists. Your eyes flit off of him and you wonder how it’s possible to wish someone would stay away but also so deeply crave they’d come closer.

Truthfully, within the tangled way he makes you feel, you’re kind of scared of Rafe, too. He’s reckless and unpredictable. And yet, that side of him excites you. There’s a complexity to him that has an inescapable effect on you.

“You holding?” you ask Porter once you approach him. He’s one of the few Kooks you don’t mind so much. He doesn’t have the cold air of arrogance that you’re so used to.

“It’s good shit, isn’t it?” he says with a smile. “How much you want?”

You leaf through the bills in your hand.

“Just a joint,” you say. The waves crash behind you, almost drowning your voice out. You make the exchange and push through the crowd, eager to get back to your friends.

You thought you managed to get away without any complications, but two words stop you.

“You lost?”

You turn to see Rafe, overwhelming heat rushing through you as he closes the distance between you, towering over you as the breeze brushes his hair over his forehead.

“What, ‘cause I’m on your side of the beach?” you mutter. “Grow up.”

Rafe smirks. He gets such a kick out of fucking with the Pogues. Especially you.

“Is that what you’re spending my tips on?” he asks, eyes darting down to the joint in your hand.

“Yeah,” you answer. “You can tell your father I say thanks.”

Rafe’s mouth curls into a bigger smile. When he looks at you like that, like he wants to be around you, you wonder if he secretly enjoys your company.

“How long you been buying from him?” Rafe asks.

“Why?” you say. The way you glare at him makes every muscle in his body tense. He’d be an idiot to deny how attracted he is to you. “You gonna tell my boss?”

“It was a fucking joke,” he mutters with a laugh. “You Pogues all have sticks up your asses, I swear.”

You grit your teeth. He’s clearly pleased when he riles you up like this. You don’t understand how somebody could be so spiteful.

“What do you want, Rafe?” you say.

Silence settles between you, the chattering of people on either side of the beach intertwined in the air, an overlap of worlds far apart. He reminds himself that he has something important to ask you.

“Did he offer you anything else?” he says. You’ve already heard the gossip about how Rafe’s selling coke now. He must want to offer you a better price.

“I’m not interested in whatever you’re selling,” you reply. Rafe scoffs, his tongue jutting under his cheek as he takes you in.

“I’d never sell to you.”

You huff a flat chuckle. You’re tired of his juvenile obsession with the class divide that sits between you.

“So, I’m good enough to serve you drinks, but not good enough to buy your drugs?”

You feel a sick sense of satisfaction when his face hardens with anger. For a second, you worry that you’re just as spiteful as he is, that you’re no better than him.

Rafe scoffs. He’s seen what coke does to people. To himself. He refuses to see it happen to you. But of course you expect the worst of him. Like everyone else does.

“Did he offer you anything else or not?” Rafe repeats with a note of irritation.

“Why?” you sputter.

“I need to know if he’s trying to steal from me.”

Rafe refuses to be in competition with anyone. Other Kooks can sell weed all they want, but coke is his territory, and if he has to claim his territory, so be it. He’s heard rumblings that Porter’s expanded his offerings now. And Rafe isn’t going to let him fuck him over.

“He did,” you finally answer. “Coke. He said it’s the purest on the island.”

He only nods tersely, lips twisting in frustration, before he turns around and storms away from you. So, that’s all he wanted from you. Information.

“You’re welcome,” you half-shout. Curiosity pulls you in as your eyes follow him into the crowd. Sure enough, Rafe pushes Porter to the ground, shouting indistinctly, earning jeers from the crowd.

It’s typical. Nearly every time you see Rafe out socially, he’s yelling and fighting someone. You walk back to your friends, hoping you can shake off the feeling he left you with.

·········

The only thing getting you through your shift the next day is that tomorrow is a holiday. The night of the Fourth of July is an escape from the stresses of your life, an excuse to get wasted with your friends under the fireworks and let yourself drift off into oblivion.

After you clock out, you’re pacing through the country club’s bar when you hear your name called from the patio. You look to see Porter sitting at a table with a couple of friends, his smile wide.

“Didn’t know you worked here,” he says when you approach.

“Yeah, I’m a server on the course,” you explain. You almost expect him to ignorantly ask for a drink, but have to remind yourself that he’s not like Rafe.

“How is it?”

“It’s fine.”

“Come on, we won’t tell,” Porter chuckles. “You hate it, don’t you?”

“Only sometimes,” you reply with a laugh. “Depends on the day. And on the person I’m dealing with.”

“Fair enough,” he says. He pulls out his phone, punching in the password. “I meant to tell you last night that you should have my number. You know, for when you need to stock up.”

You take his phone, cluing in that he’s making himself more accessible to you for the next time you need to buy from him. As you text yourself his name, one of the men at the table motions to Porter.

“Bro,” his friend says, gaze trained ahead. Porter looks past you to the bar and shakes his head in disbelief.

“Can’t escape him,” he sighs.

You follow his eyeline to spot Rafe at the bar with a friend, dark liquor sitting in the glass he’s holding.

“Not a fan?” you ask.

“Is anyone?” Porter laughs. “He’s a nutcase.”

“Don’t let him hear you,” his friend murmurs.

“Yeah, he’ll kill you,” the other guy laughs.

“I wouldn’t put it past him,” Porter replies.

Your eyes linger on Rafe a second longer than they need to. Your curiosity for why he’s the way he is is like a flame that won’t burn out. He has everything he could possibly want. Why is he so mean?

“Yeah,” is all you can say. You turn around again and give Porter his phone back.

“Oh, there’s a party at my beach house tomorrow night. My neighbor does this crazy fireworks thing every year,” he tells you. “I’ll text you the address.”

You nod appreciatively, glad that at least some of the rich people you deal with don’t buy into the idea that you’re beneath them.

·········

It’s nearing nine p.m. when you make it to the beach house the next night. The guys are rambling on behind you as you step inside the massive, humid house, filled with chattering people and loud music.

“Where are your car keys?” Pope asks.

“Right here,” JJ says, jingling them in front of his face. “Do I need to show you every five minutes?”

“I’ll just take them,” Pope says, grabbing them and stuffing them in his pocket. “You can’t be trusted.”

“It was one time,” JJ says. You laugh as you think of last weekend when he’d lost his car keys at a party in the Cut.

“Yeah, and we had to search the sand for, like half an hour,” you remind him.

“You know what I’m not hearing?” JJ says. “A thank you for driving all the time.”

“Remind me, who actually drove last time?” John B asks. “And who was hurling in the backseat?”

JJ scratches the back of his neck.

“I’m a man of honor,” he says. “I’m not not going to chug when I’m told to chug.” His eyes fix on something across the room. “Speaking of…”

He heads towards the keg and you and Pope share a disapproving shake of your heads. You follow your friends, grabbing a solo cup and sipping on beer.

A few minutes later, your phone buzzes with a text from Porter: You here? Want to buy?

You’ve already smoked through the joint you bought two nights ago and quickly reply: yes.

He texts: come upstairs.

“I’ll be right back,” you quickly tell your friends before you push through the crowd.

You duck under the string tied across the bottom of staircase, a sign that warns partygoers that it’s off limits hanging in the middle. One door is open in the upstairs hallway. You see Porter sitting on a bed, rolling a joint on a book that’s sitting in his lap.

“Hey. Got a fresh one for you,” he says.

“Thanks.” You dig into your pocket. “Same price?”

“Sure.” He cocks his head. “It’ll take a while. You can come in and chill.”

You sit at his desk close to the door, talking as he packs the thin white paper.

When he stands up, instead of giving the joint to you, he darts across the room abruptly. Your brows knit in confusion when he shuts the door, the loud music reduced to muffles now.

“What are you doing?” you ask, fear twisting your heart in a vice.

He must have read things wrong.

You assume he’ll stop when you tell him no.

He doesn’t.

·········

You fall to the hard floor. You grip the edge of the bed, hardly any light spilling into the room from the hallway as you blink rapidly to gain your bearings.

A loud slam was what woke you up. You don’t remember falling asleep. You don’t even know where you are.

Two shadowy figures stand on the other side of the room. One roughly pushes the other to the floor. You stay still, peeking over the bed. Your body is trembling with pain and you don’t know why.

“Do you think I’m joking?” a man spits.

You know that voice. It’s Rafe.

“Dude, relax,“ the man on the floor says.

You might be sick. It’s Porter on the floor, whimpering like an idiot. You remember why your body is aching now.

He hurt you. He hurt you and you retreated into your mind and you fell unconscious. A cold swirl of anger and disgust and sadness twists your stomach into a knot.

“I told you to stay out of my fucking way,” Rafe shouts. “Where’s your stash?”

“In the desk,” Porter says quietly. “Just take it. I’ll stick to selling weed, okay? You have my word.”

You watch from the floor, Rafe’s broad figure leaning to pull open drawers and shove items off the desk, objects clattering on the floor in the dark. They don’t know you’re here.

Consciousness slowly grips you. Rafe confronted him about selling coke. He told him to stop. And Porter didn’t listen.

Your eyes flood with hot tears. He didn’t listen to you, either.

You just want to leave. To get out of this horrifying room. To figure out how to put yourself back together after surviving one of the worst ways a person can break another.

Loud fireworks abruptly crack in the sky, startling you, shining light in through the window. And that’s when you see it. Porter is by the other side of the bed, still on the floor, and in his raised hand, something is gleaming.

A gun.

“Rafe!” Your throat is dry, sore from the way you’d screamed.

He suddenly turns towards you, confusedly finding your face across the room. Then, his gaze snaps down at Porter. He notices the gun. And he lunges.

You stand on shaky knees as you watch Rafe land vicious punches, every blow making Porter groan.

“Gonna pull a gun when my back is turned, pussy?” Rafe bellows. “Really?”

You round the bed, staring in horror, your mind still in fragmented shambles. You’d told Porter to stop so many times and every strike of Rafe’s knuckles against his jaw gives you a jolt of satisfaction, a desire for him to suffer more.

He was never a nice guy. He’s just like all of them. A predator.

Rafe scrambles to his feet, heavily breathing as fireworks continue their pops and sizzles over the beach.

The gun is in his hand now. His heart is thrumming, his blood boiling hot. He could’ve died. If you didn’t call his name, he could’ve lost his life.

Rafe’s steady and firm, holding the weapon still, a sharp contrast to how hard you’re shaking.

“Do it,” you say. Rafe’s eyes finds yours, his lips parted, blood splattered on his face. It’s not his. Porter didn’t land any punches. Rafe beat him that badly.

“What?” Porter cries. “Are you insane?”

He’s staring up at both of you through wide eyes as the barrel of the gun remains directed at him. You imagine how terrifying you must look to him, standing over him in the dim room with his pathetic life in your hands.

“Me?” you mutter. Hatred courses through your veins when you glare at him as he lies on his side, bloodied and weak.

The power has shifted into your hands. He was the one looking down at you earlier, hurting you. And now that your body is yours again, you don’t hesitate to kick him in the stomach.

He grunts when you make contact, his body curling forward.

Rafe watches, rendered speechless. He thought he’d seen you angry before. He hasn’t. This is new. This is pure rage. This is a level of wrath he didn’t know you were capable of.

Even through the darkness, Rafe can see that your eyes are shiny with tears when you turn your head to look at him again.

“What the fuck are you waiting for?” you snap, your words dripping with agony and rage. “If you don’t do it, I will.”

Rafe is powerless against the angry, malevolent instinct that’s guided him all his life. He doesn’t think.

The blow of the gun cuts through the air.

Your breath catches.

And he’s just a body. Lifeless on the floor. Gone.

You look up at Rafe. Your chests are heaving, broken and shaky breaths spilling out of your mouths. The colors lighting up the night sky tint your tear-streaked face. He’s never seen agony personified. He has now.

You glance down at Porter again. His mouth is agape. His eyes are shut. Forever. Forever.

“Oh, my God,” you whimper. Hot tears fall over your cheeks so quickly that you fear they’ll never stop. The adrenaline escapes you like water spinning down a drain, replaced with a bottomless dread.

Rafe realizes he’s still pointing the gun. He lowers his arm, his palm sweating against the grip. He had to do it. He had to. He didn’t know that taking a life would feel this good. He doesn’t feel a shred of regret or remorse. For once, he has real power.

But then he watches the way you sink down to the floor.

“What did we…” you whisper, words rushed. “What did we do? Rafe, what did we do?”

There’s a dead body next to you. Cold permeates your bones. You know it’s the type of chill that will never leave you.

Rafe kneels in front of you. The gun hits the floor with a heavy thump. The air smells like gunpowder, fried and smoking. He’s trying to meet your eyes, but your gaze is skittering around as you sit, crumpled and trembling.

“Hey,” he says clearly.

You’re staring at the ground, your breaths shallow.

“Hey,” he repeats louder. Finally, you look at him. “It was self-defense.”

You nod weakly, processing how within a second, you’ve tangled yourselves together into a knot that you can never unravel. Rafe pulled the trigger, but you told him to. And you’re sure you would’ve done it yourself if Rafe didn’t. You’re murderers.

Rafe’s hand is an inch away from you, almost putting it on yours, almost touching someone with tenderness instead of anger for once. You saved his life. You loathe him, but you saved his life, reacting in a split second.

“Why were you even up here?” he asks.

“Just be glad I was,” you say, hoping it’s enough to satisfy him.

“Yeah. Yeah,” he mumbles. “Thank you.”

If you weren’t so shellshocked, you’d laugh. You never expected Rafe to have manners, and you never expected that if he did, it’d be a show of gratitude for helping him kill somebody.

Nausea pools in your gut at the reminder of why you were so angry. Did Porter plan it? Did he always have his sights set on you, like a vulture circling the sky, ready to attack?

What happened earlier tonight flashes through your mind. He deserved to die. He did something unforgivable. He said things about how girls always do this, they always tease but never give it up.

You didn’t just save Rafe. You saved all the girls who were fated to cross that monster’s path. You pushed a soul to its death, but it was one not worthy of life.

Rafe stares at you as you blink rapidly, your mind clearly racing.

“He rip you off or something?” he asks, at a loss for why you’d encourage him to pull the trigger.

Of course Rafe thinks it’s about money. That’s all that matters to him.

“Yeah,” you lie, voice cracking. You can’t tell him. You can’t relive it. Especially with someone who you know is cold-blooded. Someone who might blame you for coming up to this bedroom in the first place.

Tease. Porter called you a tease while you pleaded for him to stop. You drop your head in your hands, chest stuttering with your breathy cries, remembering how he’d hurt you.

Rafe stares at you, confused, wondering how you could be so angry and vengeful and ruthless, just to regret it a second after the bullet left the chamber.

“We had to do it,” he states.

“I know,” you tell him. You wipe your cheeks with your palms, well aware that he could never understand why you’re really crying. “We’ll just tell the truth.”

He shakes his head at you.

“Tell who the truth?” Rafe mutters, his stare hard. “We’re not telling anybody.”

Your breath shakes. He wants to hide this. To try to get away with it.

“What if someone heard the gunshot?” you murmur.

“Everyone’s outside,” he says. “And those stupid fireworks are so fucking loud. Nobody could tell the difference.”

You wipe your face again, considering his words. Your phone is buzzing in your pocket. Someone’s calling you. Surely one of your friends. Why didn’t you just tell them where you were going? Why didn’t you just have one of them come upstairs with you?

Impatience quickly rises in Rafe while you stay silent.

“I almost knocked him out the other night,” he says. “In front of everyone. You think backing me up would be enough for anyone to believe I was protecting myself?”

You chew on your bottom lip anxiously. Rafe has a reputation for being violent. Porter put up a front that he was a nice guy. His friends even said right in front of you that Rafe would kill him. Who’d believe that Porter actually pointed a gun first?

Besides, if you vouched for him, who’s to say they’d trust you? They could spin it and say Rafe paid off a Pogue to lie for him.

“And then the cops would dig and find out it was over coke,” Rafe sputters. “It’d be a fucking mess. We’re not telling anybody.”

He’s right. Confessing wouldn’t do you any good, either. It could go sideways and you could never afford a good lawyer.

Nobody deserves to be punished for taking down the evil, lifeless man lying on the floor. Not you. Not even Rafe. You won’t take the risk.

You gaze into Rafe’s eyes, finding comfort in the striking blue hue for the first time, feeling a newfound sense of loyalty to him.

He gave you vengeance in a world that would never punish the man who hurt you. You’re in this together.

“Okay,” you whisper. “What do we do now?”

“We get rid of the body.”

next >

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[eraenaa]

I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)

Inspired by the song "I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)" by Taylor Swift

Rafe Cameron x Reader Tag List

Summary: Trust me, I can handle me a dangerous man.

Warnings: Substance Use, Possessiveness, Jealousy, ¿Kinda Toxic Relationship?, Mention of Violence, Mature, 18+, P in V Sex, Shower Sex, Oral Sex (F & M receiving), Fingering, Choking, Boobjob, Filmed Sexual Relations, Not Proofread 

Word Count: 2,372

A/N: Sorry for being MIA finals week was rough and I was kinda burnout hence the almost month long hiatus but Taylor's new album revived me, so maybe expect more works inspired by TTPD songs!

You sat quietly as Rafe rested his warm hand on your thigh. You waited for him to finish his drink as he laughed around with his boys at the bar. Their voice echoed through the establishment, garnering curious glances from the other patrons present. You feel him squeeze your thigh tighter, his little signal that he wanted some affection, maybe a kiss or a touch from you. He turned to you, pupils enlarged from the little pill he took, “Are you bored?” He asked, and you quickly shook your head, placing your hand on the back of his head, and ran your nails gently against his skull. “No, baby,” You murmured and moved to kiss his lips, tasting the brandy on his tongue. Rafe parted from your kiss, looking intently into your eyes to see off you lied; he seemed satisfied enough and returned to his conversations with his friends. 

You hear the offensive joke that Rafe said a bit too loudly and held your breath. Placing your hand on his shoulder, hoping it would snap some sense into him, it usually did. You feel pitying and feared glances pointed towards you. The bartender to your left shook their head and muttered, “God help her,” when they realized you were with Rafe. A man who was notorious for his rage and ill temper. He was often perceived as rash and maybe even psychotic. Perhaps their judgment of him was true… but that is what attracted you to him anyway. You could not help but be intrigued by him and his imposing and reckless demeanor. You were certain you could tame him. You said to yourself, “I can fix him; no, really, I can.” 

He drove the both of you home. A bit of a misjudgment on your part, seeing how intoxicated he was, but there was something thrilling about him taking the reigns while still addled with dopamine and alcohol. There was something seductive in the way his hand would trail upward and upward on your thigh as he raced down the streets of the Outer Banks. But there was something different this night. There was tension in him that did not come from the lust you and him were succumbing to. “What’s wrong?” You asked, taking hold of his arm, caressing it in a way that made gooseflesh rise on his flesh. You bit your lip as his hold on you was tighter; you were certain it would once again leave his mark. “Everyone in that bar was looking at you… they were looking at what’s mine.” He snarled and pressed flat on the gas, making you speed down the streets so carelessly, but you could not find care as that elicited a wave of want in you. “They were only looking…” You trailed, testing to see what reaction it would garner from Rafe. 

You watch him shake his head, his jaw clenching in annoyance. “They were looking at what’s mine. They were practically undressing you with their eyes— imagining stealing you from me,” He gritted as you were nearing home. You voiced your disagreement, but that only seemed to enrage him more. “You enjoyed it, didn’t you, huh? You fucking enjoyed their attention.” Rafe accused, and your eyes darkened at his words. Just as the rage in him burned quickly, it died in a snap. You removed his hold on your thigh and stole away your touch on his arm. You did not wait for him to open the door of the passenger seat for you but instead got out of the confined space you were trapped in and left him. “Baby, wait, I—“ Rafe called, any irritation in his voice gone the moment he realized he had offended you. 

You were nearing your bedroom door, ready to lock him out for the night and repent for his offense, but he caged you in his arms, pulling you close to him. Burying his head at the side of your neck, he offered his apologies. “I’m sorry baby… I just don’t wanna lose you,” You hear his muffled boys. Smirking to yourself as you actually got an apology from him. From all the stories you heard of Rafe, ranging from his family to his friends and even his past flings, not one of them got an apology or anything that resembled half of it from him. But here he was, saying sorry over and over again, waiting for your reply. You kept silent for a while longer, and you felt him move over to the front of you, trying to kiss your lips, but you moved your head to the side. You bit your lip as you hear him puff, surprised by his following action. You watched Rafe sink down on his knees and hold you tightly against him, burying his face in your abdomen, his apologies spewing out from his mouth as if you were a god to whom he offered his prayers, pleading to be heard. You sighed and ran your hand through his hair, hearing him soothingly hum and burrow his head deeper into your abdomen.  

You were about to urge him to stand, but you were rendered frozen, and your breathing hitch when you feel his fingers take hold of your dress, hiking it higher. “Rafe,” you called as his lips trailed kisses on your exposed skin, his breath teasing your core that had already been aching for him. “I’m sorry,” He said once more, and you could only sigh as he placed a kiss between your thighs. You held tightly onto him as he lapped your folds, showing you just how sorry he was. “Rafe… Fuck, Rafe,” you called as he inserted a finger, but you were already on the verge of an orgasm by just the way his nose burrowed into your nubbin. “Do you forgive me, my baby?” Rafe asked, and you could only moan out your agreement and hear him hiss as you pulled on his hair and came down hard on his fingers and face. 

You hummed as you woke the next day with Rafe tracing hearts on your face; he had been watching you sleep. You gazed at him through the hazy sight of the fresh morning, “You look so pretty when you sleep,” Rafe said softly, and you smiled up at him. Gone in his system were the substances that were his ruin, but he could not deny. You quite liked him in this state, but you knew he would rather have his mood be altered by opioids and any other drugs that he believed would aid him. It won’t. And you just need to change that outlook of his or at least find another drug that would not be his ruin. 

“You’re mine,” Rafe gritted in your ear, his arms wrapped tightly around you as he realized every bastard at the party was staring at you. “I’m yours,” You repeated to calm the rage in him. He did not consume anything harsh or damnable per your request, but you were starting to rethink your decision because apparently Rafe, without his usual pick me up, was rather more paranoid and frantic. Every little interaction you have with the opposite sex pushes him closer over the edge. “Rafe,” you sighed as he stepped away, challenging a guy whose gaze had been flying to you the whole night. “The fuck you staring at, huh! Do you want a fucking fight, bro?! Stop staring at my gi—“ Rafe screamed, and you pulled at him with all of your might for him to face you and save the innocent man from being beaten up to a pulp. You turn to Rafe’s friends, urging them to help, them being the able-bodied ones to escort Rafe outside to calm down. 

You stood before him as he sat by the ledge of a planter box. His head was in his hands as he tried to calm his ragged breathing. You stood silently as he took out a box of cigarettes and hastily lit a stick. “Stop looking at me like that,” Rafe spat, and you furrowed your brows at his words. “Like what?” You asked, and Rafe shook his head and took a long drag of a cigarette. “Like you’re disappointed! I know that look all too well,” He scoffed, and you took in a deep breath, stepping closer to him. Squatting down to meet him at eye level, placing a kiss on his cheek, and your hand found home at the back of his head again, running your fingers through his hair, noting how he would lean into your touch. “I’m not disappointed,” you say in earnest, but Rafe scoffs at your words. “You are. Don’t lie to me.” He gritted and threw the bud of his cigaret onto the ground, the glowing embers slowly dying down like the rage in him. 

“I never lie to you,” You say softly, placing your hold on the side of his face. “I’m yours, Rafe,” you say softly. “You’re mine.” He answered back. “Exactly. Then why are you trying to fight those others who are completely insignificant to us?” You ask softly, brushing your thumb across his brow, watching as his eyes fluttered close and a sigh left his lips. “Because I know what they want. I know they want what’s mine.” He gritted, tensing in anger once more, his fists clenching and warning danger. “But they won’t get to have it, won’t they?” You asked and stared deeply into his ocean eyes as they opened once more. “No. Never.” He swore, and you smiled, placing a kiss on his lips. 

Kissing you was the greatest high Rafe felt. The high he now realized was the only one he’d want to chase. Nothing chemically and artificially induced could compare to your lips. “Let’s go back inside,” Rafe said after your kiss had sedated his rage. “On one condition,” You said and stood your ground as he tried to pull you back into the direction of the party. You pulled him to you, flushing your bodies, and returned your hand to caress his troubled head. “No more invoking fights? Stop glaring at those guys?” You asked and watched as he frowned at your words. “I… I can probably do no more fighting— but baby, come on, they keep staring at you and—“ You shook your head and interrupted him. 

“Be a good boy tonight, and later… I’ll do what you’ve been asking me to do since last month,” You hindered your grin as you watched Rafe’s jaw turn slack, his eyes now intoxicated and dilated with the thought of you. “What do you say?” You asked, batting your lashes at him, trailing your fingers against his forearm, your eyes already catching a glance of the dent in his trousers. “I’ll be a fucking angel if you want.” He almost growled. And you let him usher you back to a party with a smile beaming on your face. 

Rafe kept true to his word. There was practically a halo around his head for the rest of the night. Foregoing his pilled and powdered remedies, even tossed out the intoxicating liquid in his glass. You thought miracles never happened, but Rafe even let you join your friends on the dance floor without him. You saw as he reigned in the hellish thoughts in him as men around danced by your side. Instead, he stood still in his spot, his mind on the thought of heaven you’ll present him if he played nice. 

You, too, kept true to your words. You were on your knees, your hands pushing your tits together, and in between them was Rafe’s cock. A video camera by your side as Rafe had been begging you almost everyday for a home video together. Reasoning that ‘it would be a reminder of you when you are away.’ And the thought of you is the only thing that gets him on. “Fuck, baby— god, you’re so good. How are you this good?” Rafe groaned as you fucked him with your tits. It was the best reward for him, you rarely gave him head, and this was the first time you ever fucked anyone this way. Rafe fisted the sheets as you wrapped your lips around the tip of his cock again. He moaned out your name as you took him deeper into your mouth, the sound of you gagging on his cock spurring him on. But before he could come, before he could reach a different and higher level of high he always sought, you pulled away. 

“Baby… oh, baby, please, you can’t do this to me,” he almost begged, his eyes in a daze at the sight of you messy from sucking his cock. You crawled upwards and hung from his lips, him already expecting a kiss. “Fuck me in the shower,” Was all you said before you hastily dispread to the bathroom and turned the faucet on. It took a few moments for Rafe to process your words, but once he did. He quickly stood, took the camera, and positioned it to point toward you, who was already soaking wet. 

Rafe was quick to push you against the glass shower door, already excited to watch the video of you and your tits against the glass. “Yes… oh, god, like that,” You cried as Rafe mercilessly pounded behind you. He gathered your hair and gripped it back, eliciting a burning yet pleasurable sensation. “You’re always so prim and proper… but looked at you, you fuck like a whore,” Rafe gritted, and your eyes rolled back as he positioned his thrust to hit the spot that made your words incoherent. “You like that, huh, baby? You like it when I fuck you, dumb?” He asked, not expecting a reply but rather your moans. Rafe relinquished his hold on your hair and instead gripped your throat. Pounding harder into you as he felt you clench tighter around him, your body shaking and on the precipice of orgasm. “Mine. Mine, mine, mine.” Rafe gritted out as he, too, was close. “Yours. All yours, Rafe.” You cried as you came around him. Panting his name as he clung in the high that was you. 

I screamed when I first listened to the song that inspired this fic, bc Rafe was the most prominent thing that it conjured in my mind.

[nemesyaaa]

S2!rafe cameron x kook!drug dealer! reader

summary ; so....reader's snorting a line of coke on rafe's dick, and rafe taking pill of ecstasy on reader's pussy...just two losers getting high together (2k3 words.)

warnings : mentions and using of drugs. smut (without real plot.). oral (f. receiving). minors dni.

"so why did you call me? need me for somethin’?"

“ oh please, you’re the one that needs something, when have i needed you for anything?“ after all, you were the dealer, and it was your client so you were right. “ and if you didn’t want to hear from me, you probably shouldn’t have given me your number?”

“ so what, you're just bored ? ”

“ i have something for you. ”

you shook your head, sitting comfortably on the edge of your bed. with one hand, you waved a bag with colorful tablets inside in front of him with a smile falling on your lips.

rafe's eyes lit up, as if suddenly your call was worth it.

“ it’s kinda sad that your face only lights up like that when you’re about to take drugs. ” you rolled your gaze, realizing that you now had his full attention. "you want it? of course, you do. we all know rafe cameron would do anything to get high."

“ and you like that. ” he shutted. “ when your ass is spoiled by my money.”

he came closer to take the bag but you moved your hand away, being much faster than him. he gave you one of his confused looks, his jaw clenching, all frustrated by your move. “don’t play with me like that. just give it to me.”

“ mmh, let me think ? no.” you ordered. “ you want it ? earn it. no kook privilege here.”

rafe started laughing, a nasally laughter that loudly echoed in the room, as his tongue hollowed the side of his inner left cheek with a smirk. “ i don’t beg, quit being a bitch, i don’t beg to have to ‘earn’ this shit. ”

you looked at him warily, knowing full well that he would. “ i think you’re gonna start listening, because you’d do anything to get what you want. if not, it doesn’t really matter to me, i have plenty of clients from figure eight who will pay me twice the amount you do. i just have to call them right now, just give me a sec... ”

his need for drugs was kinda sad,and you felt slightly guilty for using it against him. but as a businesswoman,you easily learned to take advantage of others' vulnerabilities, to use their weaknesses. you had been raised like that, there was nothing you could do about it. and it wasn't like rafe cameron was a nice guy. it was even he who encouraged all this violence within the island.

he finally knelt down, his icy glossy-teared gaze meeting yours, his lower lips trembling and begging you to shove the damn pill in his mouth. he could almost drool on the floor because he was so desperate for this shit.

“it’s immediately less fun when you’re the one begging.” you commented, noticing his blue eyes shine because of the impatience you were putting him through.

“ i did what you asked me to. so no more playing bef…”

“ before what? what could you possibly do? kill me? you gonna try to drown me, or maybe strangle me.. people talk y’know. look, i don’t have time for your bullshit, I’m in charge right now, this little power struggle isn’t going to get you anywhere. i’m not one of your little friends and i’m not scared of you. i don’t need your money but you need drugs, so who do you think is going to win here? get it together or get out. ”

rafe cameron hated this feeling, the way you making him feel shitty, the way you felt so superior to him with your worlds. it was — too much, too humiliating for him.

he was seething, a mixture of rage and sadness, but above all need and weakness. he needed this drug, as much as he needed you to give it to him now. you were terribly making the blood boil in his bulging veins. his body was tense, and inside his mouth, it was foaming. you could see he could die from this. he would have liked to be able to use violence on you, but he was incapable of doing so. you held him helpless.

"you’ve never been in this position before, but don’t worry, you’ll get used to it."

you brushed aside the strands of his bangs. “just look at that face, you are pretty, i’ll admit it” you traced his lips with your thumb, brushing it softly. with a mocking tone, you said. “ i don’t get how anyone could be intimidated by you, you’re such a baby. or maybe you’re just like this with me. ”

“ don’t call me that. ”

“then don’t give me a reason too. you’re not better than anyone. now relax, let’s just have fun." and you placed a colored pill against your tongue before pulling your lips over his, slowly sliding and driving the drug into his mouth.

you pressed your tongue against his in a mixture of dripping drool, pushing the colored pill against both of your mouths as they sought each other, sharing each other's taste. you claimed him, as you slobbering directly in his tongue, sucking the pill that had passed from one mouth to the other, from his saliva to yours, slipping in your lips and outside his, before returning to him. “ open up, rafe.” and you released the drug down his throat.

you leaned back, a trickle of saliva stretching from his tongue to your parted and swollen lips. you were breathing heavily as if he had stolen your breath during the kiss.

“ we're not done yet. " you replied in his ear, giving his earlobe a lick.

you sat on the edge of the bed again, removing your skirt and panties before spreading your thighs to let him view your perfect and sweet pussy. you placed a new pill on your tongue, caged around your two fingers before a load of drool caused the drug to slide just between your cunt.

“oops, so clumsy.” you scoffed. " you wanna get that or should i ?"

he moved closer, settling between your thighs but you grabbed his face, gently squishing his cheeks like a little boy. “i know with an ego as big as yours it’s hard to say thank you. you should try using your manners once in a while ”

“ stop trying to mess with me, just give me the damn pill.”

“ mmh…asking like that ? surely not. ”

you wedged the drug between the slits of your wet cunt lips. you could feel rafe’s burning gaze on your thighs, but also that this whole situation was turning him on deeply. drugs as much as sex.

he needed that taste again. he was addicted to it. “come on, get your shit.”

and you didn’t need to say it twice, before his mouth was rushed against your pussy, claiming it as his tongue prodding your lips to find the aphrodisiac candy. you moaned at the feeling of him wrecking your dripping cunt, lapping in it through the pill of drugs. you clenched around him, as he slurped into your soppy folds. he slipped it into his mouth, before giving your pussy a strong and heavy lick, while he gripped your left thigh. his nose was big enough to lolling your clit, getting him so ticklish, to gently caressing your skin. the wet tip brushing it. your hips moving at his messy pace. the way he sucked you was just — so good.

you were completely on cloud, the vision of his dirty face buried between your legs, his sweaty bangs ghosting his forehead, his teeths gripping into your cunt, as his tongue circling around your clit, wetness smeared sloppily through his jawline making you even more wet, and getting him hyped by your little and pretty moans that fell into your lips. the slurpy noises of his mouth devouring you in sync with your desperate voice, tongue smacking your bud. you let your hands hold him in a tight hold in his hair, as you lost yourself against him.

your legs were caged above his broad shoulders, while your hips slapped his cheeks harshly. you were sensitive, gurgling and trembling under the weight of his warm tongue as it touched your sensitive spot to the deep, slurping every single drop of juice dripping in and out of your sweet needy cunt. he lapped every corner as a dog, wrapping and curling his breathy lips around your pulsating bud, groaned everytime he feels it tense around him. and jesus — he loved your damn taste.

his breath was warm, fanning over your spreaded slit which was soaked directly on his tongue. his hold was tightened, literally digging into your flesh, as his mouth filled you so well. she looked even bigger in you, getting her way further in your insides. he was so starved, sucking and sucking as your taste was making him feel even more high than drugs. you could literally see stars, and draw them. your vision was blurred as you reached heaven.

his tongue was heavy and slobbery against your dripping pussy, mixed between his own saliva and your own wetness, which made his entire jaw shiny with the mixture. and with that, the ecstacy effect began to build, making the pleasure even stronger and hotter.

the way your body arched as he eaten your pussy like he hadn’t touched anything, licked anything in months.

you had re-slipped a pill to give him even more of an appetite, feeding him like a starving man. you could feel his short cutted grunts against your pussy, as your hips rubbed his face.

your head was spinning, and your stomach was spiraling. it felt so good, but you were so lost. the drugs, the sex, rafe, everything was wonderfully good. why go to heaven when you have everything here?

rafe had never felt so good, he loved cocaine, he cherished this drug that he had broken and which he could no longer live without. but honestly, he liked drugs in general, anything that would make him high and unstable. he needed this to survive.

he sometimes dreamed of being clean, but it was impossible. all this shit was too much — too important for him. when you came in his mouth, releasing all your heavenly juices on his tongue, you blocked his breath by pulling him harder against your soaked and juicy cunt, forcing his throat to gasp, and swallowing everything that came to his cavity.

“ i want to try something with you.” you said in a lower tone, as you reach his pants, his hard and thick dick stretching the fabric.

he followed your gaze to his boner, not aware of what you were talking about, but the way your eyes were fully gawking at it, getting him even more excited, especially with the effect of drugs inside his mind.

“ i want to get high on your cock. doing a line on it…will you let me ? ”

“ you're sick.”

“ well duh, i hang out with you, don’t i?. ”

“ give me that coke, gonna get the line for ya. ” he offered as you handed him the drug.

he couldn't help but sniff the smell of the coke, as his nose was plunged into the white powder, making him even harder.

you can see the volume of his size growing against your eyes. “ can't you stop it, actually ? ”

“ don't be funny. ”

you took down his pants and his boxers. his cock was tense and big, fully erect right in front of your face. he placed the drug in a straight line on his flesh, while you salivated, watching the powder disperse over him.

“ stay still, rafe. ” you gently shouted.

“ do you really think i can control it ? hurry the fuck up. ”

“ don't stress me out. it's my first time doing this. ” you replied as you lowered your face above his stiffened cock, feeling the tense of his body through the hard rock. his curvy tip flopping some precum drop in the air, as your nose pointed toward the drugs.

it was the first time you experimented something like that, and you felt giddy about it. you blocked one of your nostrils before snorting the entire line at once,while rafe held your head during the whole process. his hand gripping tighter in your hair when the coke reached your nose. and you giggled the next second and doing it again just to feel the sensation another time. his dick twitched against your cheeks, tapping your skin with some lazily slaps.

you were about to step back, when he pulled you away by the neck, your hair falling over his grip, and face leaning toward him. “ already done ? don't run away. you gotta clean up your mess first ”

you lapped his cock to get him clean, rolling your tongue over his sensitive length, the fat shaft throbbing over your mouth, as your saliva soaked him. .

you were high — mouth licking innocent with stoned-looking filled with dizzy eyes. you needed more. but the moment you were about to talk, rafe came between your lips, spurting his warm loads inside you.

“ you wanted a thank you ? here it is. now we're done. ”

“ we all know that you will come back to me. ”

“ babe.” he cutted. “ you wish i came back for you’, but we all know why i came back. ”

“ pretend to not like it if you want, but don't forget to say my name when my taste will still drip from your mouth while you're kissing others. ”

“ glad that you're aware that you're not the only one. now, i'm leaving. don't call me. ”

“ don't need to call you when you will be at my door like a dog. ”

“ do i really have to put my dick in that mouth to shut you up ? or you gonna be a big girl and do it alone ? ”

“ oh oh. seems like you’re just looking for an excuse to do it, but your dick isn’t big enough to keep me quiet.”

“ not big enough ? ” he repeated with a smirk. “ keep talking, sweetheart before i'm gonna stretch that mouth open to death with that not-big-enough dick. ” he came closer, towering you with his height “ glad that you love yapping because after that, i can promise you that you will have something to talk for the entire year. now open that mouth. bigger. want to be a whore ? then make daddy fit in. ”

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

could you do a pregnant reader x rafe

a/n: okay but that got my brain buzzing, so i simply had to get all the thoughts out in the form of headcannons (written right before i fell asleep, sorry if it shows)

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist

okay, so picture this: he's the asshole frat boy, you're the cute college chick who unlike him is actually there for the education.

also, he's your ex...

you were only together for a few months, but still, that shit was intense, the relationship nearly broke you from all of the high highs and low lows

it was exhausting being in love with an asshole, hence why you're no longer together

he was totally the type of toxic boyfriend to only wanna fuck you without a condom, either by pressuring you or just straight up lying and then rolling the rubber right off either as soon as he got you into doggystyle or like halfway through when you were too cockdrunk to notice the difference.

so that might have been why a month or so after the two of you broke up, you were late...

i'm picturing that you finally took a test at the most chaotic moment: at the beginning of a party in a bathroom, your roommate doing a quick run to a pharmacy while drunk folks try to barge down the door.

when your roomie comes back, you're totally freaking out, full-on melt-down, while she sits on the counter beside the sink and tries to calm you down, thinking up other solutions to your symptoms.

but the damn stick shows you two lines.

you were pregnant.

"so are you gonna tell him?" your roomie asks you, but you're still on a completely different planet, trying to comprehend the result.

"huh?"

"rafe. are you gonna tell him? i mean, i assume that it's him, unless there's somebody else, in which, how dare you not spill."

"what? no, there's no one else. of course it's rafe's..."

"...so? are you gonna tell him?"

but you have no idea if you want to or even should. you don't even have the slightest idea what you might wanna do about it all, if you should keep the baby or not.

but timing really is a funny funny thing, because when you then decide to go home to process everything (because damn, now you can't stay at the party and celebrate the close call), you bump into none other then the man, the myth, the whore himself: rafe fucking cameron.

now, you're straight up crying at this point, just overwhelmed as fuck, so of course he doesn't let you just slip by without figuring out what in the fuck is going on, if there is some douchebag he needs to go beat up.

"there only douchebag you need to beat up is yourself," you spit out before you can stop the phrase.

"oh, come on, baby. you can't still be mad at me? it's been like a month."

"please, rafe... just let me go home..."

"no, not until you tell me what's wrong!"

and when you actually say it out loud, it's like the awful party music fades and the buzzing crowd around you disappears.

"i'm pregnant."

at first, he just stands there stunned, staring straight through you.

if he's holding a glass, then he definitely drops and smashes it on the ground.

but then he grabs your arm and wordlessly drags you with him, all the way up to his room.

that's when, in the dull quiet of his dark dorm room, that it really sinks in.

for a while he just stares at you, letting his eyes scan down your frame, surely imagining what you'd look like in a few months.

and then, out of the blue, he whispers, "marry me..."

"...what?"

"marry me," he utters with more confidence, "i know this isn't exactly how it should go, but babe... i still love you. i never stopped... let me take care of you, let me take care of our baby, let me give you the life we deserve. so what do you say? will you marry me?"

but you just stare back at him as if he's gone mad.

"...no."

your stomach starts to flip as you then see the first signs of rage flare up on his features, "what do you mean no?"

"rafe, i'm supposed to be finishing up my degree, being young and dumb, not getting knocked up by the last man i'd ever want to be forever stuck with."

of course he then totally pops off, pushes you into a corner, yelling, screaming, all the nine yards

saying all this stuff about how you should be grateful that he ever gave you his time of day in the first place, nevertheless get you pregnant with his kid.

sooo, me thinks the next steps in their story gets pretty dark, pretty fast....

we talking him taking you with him home to tannyhill because school is simply too stressful for you and the baby (in his opinion)

mayhaps he straight up locks you in a room and acts all nice, pretends that nothing is wrong with the way he handles it all

forced marriage? yes? no? yes.

him getting fucking FERAL when you start to show?

also him getting feral long before that, taking the chance to make sure you're really, totally, 100% pregnant, if you know what i mean (in other words: all of the creampies ever, just over and over again, fucking load after load deep inside of you + so so much cumplay)

and the ending? i imagine that one day, after your kid is born, you run away, baby in your arms and not much else.

you try and create a quiet little life for you and your child somewhere far away

but eventually (of course, just for the sake of ✨drama✨) he finds you...

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[greengoblinswifey]

I know these men aren’t friends but I just wanna be in the middle of pope and rafe 🙂‍↕️

Rafe Cameron x Pope Heyward x Kook!Reader

summary— you host your annual pre halloween party and things gets steamy with two unexpected men.

warnings— explicit content. threesome, grinding, oral, double penetration, unprotected sex, creampie, praise kink, possessive rafe as usual, bit of sub rafe and pope, slightly dom!reader, male masturbation.

a/n— i had to write a long ass fic based off this ask, enjoy <33

The party was already in full swing by the time you opened the door for Pope and the rest of the Pogues. Your annual Halloween party had always been a hit, and this year was no different. The lights were dim, casting an orange and purple glow over your crowded mansion as music pumped through the speakers. The smell of beer was mixed with Halloween candles you bought and the cool night air that rushed in every time the door opened. Kooks and Pogues were scattered around playing beer pong, dancing, or chatting in little groups, the energy of the night electric. It was the only night of the year everyone got a long- thanks to you.

You had dressed as a playboy bunny this year, black corset, bunny ears perched on your head, and fishnet stockings that had definitely caught Pope’s eye the moment he walked in. His gaze lingered on you as he made his way over, a lazy smile spreading across his face. “Damn, you look really sexy tonight,” he said, eyes scanning your body before meeting yours again. You giggled, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks, and placed a hand on his chest.

You were tipsy, maybe a little more than tipsy after greeting people at the door for the last hour with a drink always in hand. Pope wasn’t exactly sober either; he and the rest of the pogues had been pregaming before they arrived. His breath was warm as he leaned in closer, the smell of alcohol mixing with his cologne, and you couldn’t help but feel a little lightheaded as his hand settled on your waist.

“Thanks, Pope,” you teased, batting your lashes. “Guess I pulled off the whole sexy playboy bunny look, huh?”

Pope grinned, clearly enjoying the attention. “More than pulled it off,” he said, leaning closer. His lips grazed the side of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. You let him kiss you there for a moment before you gently pulled away, biting your lip as you looked up at him with a playful glint in your eyes.

“Oh, you like how I look, huh? Your little playboy bunny?” you teased, dragging a finger down his chest slowly, feeling the muscles tense beneath his shirt.

Pope chuckled, his grip on your waist tightening as he looked at you with hooded eyes. “You know I do,” he said, voice low, full of that teasing edge you’d come to expect from him.

Around you, the party raged on, music pounding, people laughing and drinking, but it felt like the world had narrowed down to just the two of you. His hand drifted to the small of your back, pulling you closer as you both swayed slightly, caught in the rhythm of the music and the buzz of the alcohol. You were tempted to give in to his touch, to let him kiss you right there in front of everyone, but you held back, keeping him on edge just a little longer.

That playful push and pull between you two was all part of the game, and tonight was no different.

You had almost forgotten that Rafe never missed your parties. The two of you had been hooking up for months now, always finding yourselves in situations that blurred the lines between friends and something more. He’d known about your costume for weeks, knew exactly what kind of reaction it would get, and, true to form, he’d shown up dressed as Hugh Hefner, a smug smirk on his face as he walked through the door.

You didn’t notice him at first, too wrapped up in Pope, whose lips were still trailing along your neck, and whose hands had drifted lower, resting just above your hips. You were tipsy, feeling light and playful, leaning into Pope as his lips brushed against your skin. The party pulsed around you, the music loud and the room packed, but it felt like you and Pope were in your own little bubble-until that bubble was abruptly popped.

Rafe stormed over before you even realized he’d spotted the two of you. His presence was impossible to miss, broad shoulders, confident swagger, and a dark look in his eyes as he cut through the crowd, laser-focused on you and Pope. The moment his voice cut through the air, it sent a shiver down your spine.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he growled, his eyes flicking between you and Pope, anger simmering beneath the surface. He stopped right in front of the two of you, jaw clenched. “Why the fuck is this pogue all over you? And why the hell is he even here?”

You couldn’t help but giggle, though you knew better than to push Rafe when he was like this. Still, the alcohol had loosened you up, and you found yourself smirking at him, tipping your head to the side. “Rafe, calm down. You and I aren’t together, remember?” You smiled sweetly, leaning back into Pope just a little more, feeling Rafe’s glare intensify. “I can do whatever I want.”

You reached out, your fingers brushing over Rafe’s costume, silk robe, cigarette holder tucked into his breast pocket. “You look good, though,” you teased, trying to lighten the tension. “My very own Hugh Hefner.” You leaned in, lowering your voice so only he could hear. “And I’m your Holly Madison, or whoever you want me to be.”

He was pissed but the compliment seemed to ease some of the tension in his shoulders. Still, his eyes remained dark as he glanced at Pope, clearly annoyed by his presence. “You’re out of your mind,” Rafe muttered, though the corner of his mouth twitched slightly as if he couldn’t stay mad at you.

“If you want,” you teased again, “you can join in.” You giggled, the alcohol buzzing in your veins as you gave him a playful wink. Pope, oblivious to the history between you and Rafe, was still holding you close, his body pressed against yours.

Rafe’s eyes narrowed for a moment, but then he sighed, stepping closer. “You’re such a brat,” he muttered under his breath, though you could hear the slight amusement in his voice now. He moved behind you, his hands settling on your waist as he pressed his body against yours. The heat of him was intoxicating, and you couldn’t help but let out a little breath as he leaned down to kiss the back of your neck.

You were sandwiched between the two of them now, Rafe grinding into you from behind, his hands firm on your hips, while Pope was in front of you, his hands pulling you closer, his lips brushing against your collarbone. It was like being in the center of a storm, the music pulsing through your body as you swayed with them, your head spinning from the drinks and the intensity of the moment.

Rafe’s lips moved up your neck, his breath hot against your skin, while Pope’s hands gripped your waist tighter, the two of them moving with you in sync to the beat of the music. It was chaotic and thrilling, and you couldn’t help but smile, feeling powerful between them.

Things were quickly heating up between you, Rafe, and Pope. The energy had shifted, and it was like you could feel both of them trying to outdo the other, their touches growing more insistent, their lips and hands everywhere at once. Pope’s hands were gripping your waist from the front, his fingers sliding up your sides, while Rafe’s mouth never left your neck, his strong hands pressing against your hips as he pushed into you from behind.

They were locked in silent competition, each one focused on making you shudder, on drawing out those soft little gasps they knew you couldn’t hold back. Pope’s lips brushed against your jawline, while Rafe’s breath was hot against your ear, sending shivers through your entire body. You were surrounded by them, caught in this magnetic pull between the two.

The party raged on around you, but it didn’t matter. In that moment, all that existed were their hands on you, their mouths teasing your skin, and the way your body responded to each of them. You bit your lip, eyes fluttering shut as the pleasure built inside you.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Kiara and Cleo passing by, their eyes widening in shock and amusement at the sight of the three of you. They giggled, whispering to each other as they stole glances, clearly not expecting to see this. But you didn’t care, you were too wrapped up in the moment. If anything, their reaction made it even more thrilling.

You had an idea, one that made your pulse quicken even more. With a sly smile, you reached out and grabbed both of their hands, Pope’s in your left, Rafe’s in your right, and tugged them gently, leading them toward the staircase. Their eyes flickered with curiosity, though both men were clearly annoyed with each other. You could feel the tension between them, but they followed you anyway, unable to resist.

Without saying a word, you led them upstairs, weaving through the crowd of partygoers until you reached your room. Your mansion was sprawling, and your room was at the far end of the hall, far away from the chaos of the party downstairs. As you reached the door, you glanced back at them with a teasing smile. They were still glaring at each other, but the desire to be near you overpowered their irritation.

You opened the door to your room and stepped inside, feeling the weight of both of their eyes on you as you moved. The tension between the three of you was electric, and you knew that whatever was about to happen would only fuel the competitive fire burning between them.

Rafe and Pope followed you into the room, the door clicking shut behind them. Despite their annoyance with each other, they were both here for you, and that thought made you grin. You had both of them right where you wanted them.

The real fun was just about to begin.

You gave them both a little shove and they stood for a second, tension still thick between them, before you pushed them onto the bed. They sat side by side, eyes glued to you as you slowly walked toward them, the sultry music from your speaker you turned on that played music from downstairs, filling the room.

Rafe’s eyes roamed over your body, his jaw tight as he took you in. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, his voice husky with desire. “You’re so fucking sexy, so fucking beautiful. All mine.”

His possessiveness sent a thrill through you, but before you could respond, Pope’s jaw clenched. He wasn’t about to let Rafe take control of the moment. “She’s not just yours,” Pope shot back, his eyes flicking up to meet yours. “You’re stunning, you know that? Absolutely stunning.”

The tension between them sizzled in the air, but your giggle broke through it. You stood between them now, enjoying the attention, enjoying how desperate they both seemed to be for you. With one hand, you reached out and touched Pope’s cheek, your thumb brushing against his jawline as you gave him a teasing smile.

Then, without warning, you turned to Rafe, straddling him on the bed, feeling the heat of his body against yours. His hands immediately gripped your waist, pulling you down hard against his lap. “All mine,” he whispered again, his lips finding yours in a hungry kiss.

You could feel his bulge pressing into you, hard and ready beneath your thighs. You kissed him back deeply, but with your free hand, you reached out to Pope, your fingers brushing over his bulge. He groaned softly at your touch, and the tension in the room shifted, their competitiveness forgotten for the moment as they focused on you.

Grinding on Rafe’s lap, you felt his hands move to grip your hips, guiding you as you moved against him. But your attention wasn’t just on him, you continued to tease Pope, rubbing him through his pants, feeling the hardness beneath your palm as his breathing grew heavier. Both of them were completely under your control now.

Pope’s jaw clenched again, but this time it wasn’t from frustration, it was from the pleasure you were giving him. His hand reached out to touch you, his fingers brushing against your skin, desperate for more. You could feel the heat rising in the room, the music and the dim lights only adding to the tension.

You pulled back from Rafe just enough to look at both of them. The sight of them, both completely focused on you, their eyes dark with desire, sent a shiver down your spine. You were the one in control here, and they were more than willing to follow your lead.

You stood before them, feeling their eyes devour every inch of your body. “Don’t I look sexy?” you asked with a teasing smirk, running your hands slowly down your sides. Rafe and Pope, sitting on the edge of the bed, nodded frantically, their eyes wide with hunger.

“Yes, you do,” they both agreed in unison, barely able to get the words out.

You bit your lip seductively, letting your fingers play with the edge of your corset. “Then I’m not even sure if I want to take this off,” you teased, watching as their desperation grew. Rafe groaned, leaning forward slightly, his hands twitching.

“Please, take it off,” he begged, his voice rough with need.

“Yeah,” Pope added, his tone almost as eager. “Take it off.”

You stepped closer, swaying your hips, urging them both with a slow, sultry glance. “Well then, why don’t you two help me out of it?” you said, biting your lip again.

They didn’t need to be told twice. Both of them stood quickly, their hands eager and trembling as they started to unlace the corset. Rafe was more familiar with the routine, his fingers swift as he helped you slip out of it. Pope, though less experienced, moved carefully, his touch hesitant but excited. The moment your corset dropped to the floor, you stood before them in nothing but your bunny ears, stockings, and heels.

Rafe, even though he’d seen you naked so many times before, still inhaled sharply as he took in the sight of you, his arousal evident in the way his body responded. Pope, on the other hand, was absolutely floored. His eyes widened, and for a moment, he couldn’t believe what he was seeing, the sexy kook he’d always known, now standing completely bare in front of him.

Your fingers trailed over your body, feeling their eyes follow your every movement. You helped Rafe out of his Hugh Hefner costume, the velvet robe slipping to the floor. Then you turned to Pope, guiding him out of his clothes as well. When they were both fully undressed, you stepped back to admire them, both big and thick, standing there, hard for you.

Your breath hitched at the sight of them, a wave of heat coursing through you. You hadn’t quite anticipated how much seeing them both, naked and ready, would make your pulse race.

How the fuck would you take both of them?

You moved closer to Rafe first, your lips brushing against his as you kissed him deeply, your hand trailing down his chest, then lower. His hands gripped your hips again, his body eager to press against yours. But as much as you wanted him, you weren’t going to let Pope wait any longer.

You turned to Pope, running your fingers along his jaw, pulling him in for a kiss that was equally as deep. He responded instantly, his hands sliding down your sides, his touch sending sparks through you. You could feel the tension between them, the competitiveness that hadn’t gone away, but right now, they were both focused on you.

Their hard cocks were pressing up against you, the heat between the three of you radiating through the room. You could feel Rafe’s eyes on you as you turned your attention to Pope, pushing him back onto the bed with a firm shove. He landed on his back, his breath hitching as you climbed between his legs, arching your back and raising your ass high in the air.

Rafe stood behind you, his hands clenched into fists, his jaw tight. He was itching to pull you away from Pope, to remind him who had you first, but for now, he held back, letting you have your fun. The tension between them was fierce, and you knew that after tonight, Rafe would likely find a way to make Pope pay for touching you. But right now, you were in control.

With your ass still raised, you wrapped your hand around Pope's thick cock, stroking it slowly while he groaned beneath you. His head fell back against the pillow, his hips jerking up slightly as you teased him with your touch. Rafe watched, his breath ragged, his fingers flexing as he fought the urge to intervene.

You smirked over your shoulder at Rafe, your voice dripping with seduction. “Well, don't just stand there.”

That was all it took. Rafe dropped to his knees behind you, gripping your hips firmly as he pulled you closer and ripped your stocking to have an opening to your pussy, then his mouth dived between your thighs. The sensation was electric, his tongue working you over with a fervor that made your entire body shudder. You moaned around Pope’s cock as you took him into your mouth, the vibrations of your moans making his hips buck up into you even more.

Rafe wasn’t letting up, his hands gripping your ass as he devoured you, his own cock hard and throbbing as he stroked himself, eager for more. The pleasure hit you in waves, and you couldn’t help but grind back against Rafe’s face as you moaned around Pope’s length, the taste of him filling your mouth.

Pope’s hands tangled in your hair, his breaths coming faster as you worked him with your lips and tongue. His moans grew louder, his hips thrusting up as he lost control. “Fuck, I'm gonna-,”Pope groaned, his voice strained, and before long, he was spilling into your mouth, his body tensing beneath you.

The moment Pope came, your own orgasm crashed over you, your moans muffled as you swallowed Pope’s release. Your body trembled as you came on Rafe’s mouth, his grip tightening on your hips as he lapped up every drop of your arousal, making sure to get every last bit. Both of you swallowed, savoring the moment as the three of you caught your breath.

With your body still trembling from the intensity of what just happened, you turned your attention to Rafe. Before he could fully catch his breath, you pushed him onto the bed, positioning his hard cock right at your entrance. Slowly, you sank down onto him, both of you moaning as he filled you completely. Your eyes locked with Pope’s, who was now sitting up, his gaze fixated on where you and Rafe were connected.

Rafe’s hands roamed your body, his lips latching onto your breasts as he groaned into your skin. You couldn’t help but throw your head back in pleasure as you rode him, feeling him stretch you out perfectly. Pope’s eyes trailed down to your pussy, watching every movement, his hand gripping his cock as it hardened again.

“You like watching me get fucked, don't you?” you teased, your voice low and sultry as you maintained eye contact with Pope. He nodded frantically, unable to take his eyes off you. “Yes,” he moaned, his hand stroking his length in sync with your movements on top of Rafe.

Your smirk grew as you leaned forward slightly, riding Rafe harder, causing both of you to moan louder. “Do you want to feel this tight pussy wrap around your dick?” you asked, breathless as the pleasure surged through you.

Pope’s breathing became ragged as he bit his lip, nodding desperately. “Yes, I need it,” he groaned again, his eyes practically begging you.

“Keep playing with yourself for me, but don’t cum,” you instructed, your voice firm despite the heat coursing through your body. "If you cum now, you don’t get to fuck me."

Pope nodded, his hand working his cock even faster as he tried to hold back. You shifted your attention back to Rafe, who was thrusting up into you with increasing urgency, his face flushed and his breaths ragged.

“You feel so good baby,” you whispered, leaning down to kiss him, your lips barely brushing against his. “So tight and wet,” he moaned, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he fought to keep control. “I- I can’t hold on much longer.”

Hearing that, you smirked and suddenly lifted yourself off him right as you came, leaving Rafe teetering on the edge. He let out a guttural moan as he spilled over, his cum splattering across your chest, coating your perky tits in the warm release.

You bit your lip, looking down at the mess you made of him, feeling the power shift entirely in your favor.

You were still catching your breath from Rafe’s release when you noticed Pope watching you with raw hunger in his eyes, his need obvious and desperate. You could tell he was barely holding on, trembling from restraint. You leaned back on the bed, spreading your legs for him, “Come on, Pope, fuck me.”

Pope’s gaze flickered briefly to Rafe, unsure if he should knowing the dangerous and possessive man who could make his life a living hell. But Rafe, reclining with a possessive smirk, growled, “Go ahead. Fuck her. It’s the last time you’ll ever get to do that.”

That was all the encouragement Pope needed. In an instant, he was on you, dragging his cock along your slick folds before thrusting inside, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. He gripped your thighs, moaning as he sank deep, moving in rhythm with your every gasp. You felt every inch of him stretching you, filling you completely, and your moans blended with his.

But just when it felt too good to handle, you stopped him, breathless. “Rafe, come fill me up, too.”

Rafe’s lips curled into a wicked smile, watching Pope reluctantly pull out before positioning himself beneath you. You laid back on Rafe’s chest, feeling his cock nudging against your ass. He didn’t waste time, slowly slipping inside, the stretch almost unbearable as he filled you in a way only he could. You arched your back, crying out as he pushed further, groaning in pleasure.

Pope, desperate for more, lined himself up again and plunged back into your pussy. The feeling of being stretched by both of them at once sent shockwaves through your entire body. You nearly sobbed from how full you felt, the sensations overwhelming as their cocks moved in perfect sync, rocking your body with each thrust.

Rafe slowed his movements, easing his cock deeper into your ass while Pope sped up, his hands gripping your hips tight. “You like how her pussy feels, huh?” Rafe teased, glancing at Pope.

Pope, lost in the sensation, could only nod, barely able to form words. Rafe chuckled darkly, thrusting harder. “Well, treasure it, because it’s the last time you’re ever going to be inside my pussy.”

Your hand reached up, covering Rafe’s mouth as you turned to Pope, your voice dripping with lust. “God, you’re so big, you’re fucking me so good. Go faster, I’m gonna cum on that dick.”

Pope’s pace became relentless, and Rafe matched his rhythm, both of them pushing you to the edge. The pressure was almost too much, your body trembling violently, feeling like you might pass out from the intensity. And then it hit, waves of ecstasy crashed over you as you screamed, squirting all over both of them, your body shaking uncontrollably.

Pope couldn’t hold back any longer, pulling out just in time to cum all over your stomach. Rafe followed shortly after, spilling deep inside you, filling your ass as his own moans filled the room. All three of you were panting and completely overwhelmed by what had just happened.

You collapsed on the bed between them, completely fucked out, your body humming with satisfaction. “You both did so good,” you murmured, your voice hoarse. Rafe kissed your neck, whispering, “You took our cocks so well.”

Pope smirked, his breathing still heavy, and you smiled back at him, the tension in the air slowly fading. “The night is still young,” you teased, your voice light but exhausted.

They cleaned you up, tenderly helping you back into your corset and fixing your bunny ears. After cleaning themselves and slipping back into their clothes, the three of you headed back downstairs, with you leading the way and holding on to their hands as they trailed behind. The moment you stepped back into the party, all eyes were on you, the crowd erupting into cheers and knowing glances.

You smiled knowingly, basking in the attention, enjoying every bit of it as the night continued on and you were once again in the middle of the two men.

[deceitfuldevout]

Until Death (Part 1)

Arranged Marriage AU: Dark!Husband!Rafe Cameron x Wife!Reader

Word Count: +1,524

Warning(s): +18, Non con, Non consensual photographing, Domestic Violence, Humiliation, Forced breeding, Unwanted orgasm.

Author's Note(s): I wrote this cause I really wanna get married and find someone to love me but I don’t think it’s possible so here’s a fic instead 🥲

You never would've imagined being married to the Kook king himself, Rafe Cameron. But here you were, almost a year in. From the beginning you felt like an outsider. Even in the new home that Ward had gifted you. It was decision made by both of your fathers. Ward wanted someone from a family he knew very well. Your fathers were childhood friends and trusted each other enough to make the right decision. Whether their children were willing to or not. An arranged marriage between a Kook and a Pogue. One of the first of its kind.

Ward needed an heir from his only son. It was about time Rafe learned some responsibility. Ward needed to find a family with no authority or power. So, what better decision than to contact an old friend from the cut? Ward managed to pull himself out of there, your father on the other hand, wasn't so lucky. However, by Mr. Cameron's gracious offer, your father had been given a position in his company. Ward would handle the paperwork, while your father handled construction and remodeling.

It was enough to get by, but not enough to get out of the cut. That's why your father made the brash decision. Ward didn't see a problem with the arrangement given your family had no name for themselves. To him, having a family with no name or status is better than being involved with a tarnished one. It would avoid any unwanted attention for the Cameron family.

All your father wants is to make sure his only child would be taken care of once he's gone. You've only met Rafe during family events/outings, and when you did meet, he'd always try to torment you. Other than that, most of time would be spent clinging to Sarah for protection.

You hadn't known about the arrangement until a week prior. You defiantly hadn't expected Rafe to get on one knee in front of everyone. Your engagement was a nightmare, Rafe had decided to ambush you during the Kook's annual midsummer event. A few months later you married into the Cameron family. The event being of the most lavish, expensive, and largest weddings in the history of the Outer Banks.

Rafe made the decision that your honeymoon would be spent ‘setting up home’. You bid your family and friends a farewell before leaving with your husband. It was awkward enough that he'd been drinking for most of the night. What was supposed to be a beautiful ceremony quickly became a frat party. It was awkward enough when Rafe (who'd been drinking most of the night) tried carrying you across the threshold of what was your new home. He stumbles a few times, almost dropping you on the front steps. All you wanted was to go to bed after a long and eventful day.

In a fit of rage you rush up the stairs and into the master bedroom. You hadn't even changed out of your wedding dress. Deciding that it would be done tomorrow, as would everything else. It was tiring, putting on an act in front of hundreds of people. You were relieved for it to be over with. Until the harsh turning of the doorknob catches your attention. In came a very intoxicated Rafe Cameron, stumbling in with his tie already undone.

His hair was a mess from wrestling his groomsman, his expensive cologne overtaken by the stench of alcohol. All you want now is to sleep after being anxiety ridden for the past few hours. But the shuffling on the end of the bed made your stomach churn. Maybe if you pretended to be asleep he would leave you be.

Rafe reaches down to brush the back of his hand on your cheek. He couldn't help but chuckle at his fiancee--no, his wife. You're his wife now and he couldn't believe it. He grins from cheek to cheek, hovering over to study your features. You could hear Rafe talking to himself, "You're even prettier up close..."

Rafe was fine with the wedding day being for his wife, but it was the wedding night that belonged to the husband. 

He gets on his knees, preparing to strike. He pulls you but the ankle, dragging you across the bedsheets. He locks his arms around your thighs to pull you in. It was futile trying to fight back. Rafe rips away at the fabric, revealing what was for his eyes only. He doesn't waste time getting to work, suckling, lapping, and teasing at your sex.

When he starts to dip his tongue inside that's when you crumble beneath him. Your thighs shake when coming undone. A gush of arousal splashes his face. Rafe doesn't stop there, instead he keeps going until you're brought to tears cumming for the second time. He retreats with a triumphant look on his face.  

"Hey...." he whispers followed by a harsh grip on your jaw that turns your attention back to him, "Hey," his voice boomed. He held you in place, looking you right in the eyes when he states, "Look at me," a small pause follows, "No one is coming through that door to save you," he readjusts his grip, digging his fingers into your jaw, "No one is coming through that door, we're the only ones here," leaning in, "And if they heard they wouldn't care, they know their place," before lifting your skirt up, "It's about time you did too," Rafe held his cock in one hand, his other held your hip in place. He pumps his shaft a few times before rubbing it against your slick. He moans, "Oh fuck...can't wait to stuff you with it..." Rafe dips his head into the crook of your neck, his lips find that sweet spot. He suckles until he's certain there would be bruising.  

"You can scream all you want, no one’s gonna stop me,” he presses his leaking tip against the small opening, pushing it in without hesitation, “Not you…” he just his hips, “Not our families,” thrusting his cock inside, “No one…” fastening his pace. He’d been waiting for this moment for a long, long time. You had no idea that Rafe had willingly entered this marriage.

Can’t you see? He’s been in love with you for as long as he can remember. Yet you kept denying him repeatedly. Now Rafe has everything he’s ever wanted. He’s inherited the Cameron family fortune, gained the trust of his father as well as yours, and now he has you.  

He doesn’t stop thrusting his hips back and forth. Reveling in the feeling of you squeezing his member. It was exactly how he’d fantasized about. No more having to spend late nights wondering what you would feel like. He has you right where he wants. Rafe pulls down your top, exposing both breasts. He nips and suckles at them until they’re nice and bruised. He takes pride in being able to do so. Rafe squeezes your mouth open before pressing his lips against them. He sucks your tongue into his mouth, swirling it around his. The taste of liquor makes you nauseous.  

This wasn’t how you wanted to end the night. In the end you never had a choice. Your entire life revolving around men in power. A lamb sent to be slaughter, given only the right to live. Even if it meant living for someone else. Rafe presses his sweaty forehead against yours. He snarls, "You're my wife until I fucking die, do you hear me? Until death," his teeth sink into the flesh of your shoulder, digging hard enough to break skin.

A howl escapes your body as pain shot through it. Rafe held you close to him until he finally reached his limit and finishes inside. A deep, guttural moan is muffled into the bite mark. For a moment the two of you stay together until finally Rafe draws back. He’s a panting mess. He could practically feel how slick you became. He lets out a satisfying huff of victory. Rafe had won.  

A part of him wants to remember the day he finally got to take you. Then it hits him, “Wait…don’t move,” rummaging through a cabinet. He retreats down the hall. You could hear him searching for something in the unopened boxes. He then returns to you with a Polaroid in hand. He straddles your waist, aiming the lens at you. Rafe smiles, “Something to remember this moment...” he aims it right in your face, “...our first time as husband and wife,” before clicking it.

You could only give a startled look as you stare back at him. Like a deer caught in headlights. Rafe inspects the photo of you. He whistles at the beautifully captured moment. There you were, staring back at him with smudged lipstick and running mascara. You only blink as he stood there, snapping pictures like it was some heartfelt moment. What was supposed to be the most important day of your life, ended in the worst way imaginable.

"Smile for me Mrs. Cameron..."

Rafe was fine with the conditions of inheritance. In order to stay in his father's will, he would have to settle down first. But if there's one thing Ward taught him, it's to negotiate. Rafe remembers striking the deal in his father's office. For the first time ever, the young Cameron man put his foot down,

"No," Rafe states,

Ward looks up at his son, "I'm sorry?"

"I'm not getting married, not unless it's her," he's dead serious too. Ward sighs, he leans back in his chair, "Do you really want to marry this girl?" questioning his son's authenticity. Rafe nods, "It's always been her,"

Ward understands now that his son's mind is made up. Not even he could stop it, "Rafe...you have to understand that her father is a very important member of my company..." he starts, "...he's a bit of a... traditionalist," he pushes himself off the desk, approaching his son, "He expects a certain price for her hand, that I’m not worried about…” he held Rafe's shoulder.

Ward looks his son dead in the eyes to show how serious this situation was to both of their families, “Do not fuck this up, you only get one shot and then you're done, do you hear me? Done," he expects an answer. Rafe looks him in the eyes, there’s a park of determination in the young Cameron man, “I won't,” sealing the deal. Ward picks up his phone and dials up your father’s number, "My friend, you're needed at the office, it's about time we discuss family matters,"

The best decision Rafe made was making you Mrs. Cameron.