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gloomskulls

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚HE LOVED ME MEAN [rafe cameron x reader]

゛MASTERLIST

pairing(s): bully!rafe x bullied!reader

cherienymphe

Prowl

Rafe Cameron x Reader

WARNINGS: Non-Con, loss of virginity, depression, mentions of blood, semi-public sex, underage drinking, non canon ages, Carrera!reader, Rafe is an asshole with a capital A

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics

summary: Rafe Cameron never thought of himself as the hunting type, but the more you hid, the more he wanted to find you.

sexysadie23

To all the rafe fic writers who really nail down his personality even in a paratext like fan fiction which exists outside of the show/canon - thank u so much I salute you!!💋💋💋

hugh-dancy-archived

I mean, if, you know, you’re agreeable to it.

angel06babysworld

jacob elordi x private!reader

“Have You Ever Tried This One?”

she knows exactly where they’re going this time.

she’s been talking about it for weeks, counting down days, sending him clips, explaining every little detail like he hasn’t already memorized it just from listening to her.

so when they’re standing in the crowd, lights flashing, music buzzing through her chest, she’s practically vibrating with excitement.

“i can’t believe i’m actually here,” she says, half to herself, half to him, grabbing onto his arm like she needs to ground it somewhere.

he looks down at her, amused, a little softer than usual. “you’ve only mentioned it a hundred times.”

she ignores that, already scanning the stage, already waiting.

and when Sabrina Carpenter finally comes out, she loses it completely — laughing, cheering, turning into him like she needs to share it with someone.

he just watches her for a second.

not the stage — her.

they’re deep into the set when it happens.

the opening of that song hits, and she immediately grabs his hand, eyes wide, grin spreading like she’s been waiting for this exact moment all night.

“okay,” she says, already laughing, “this is the one.”

he leans closer so he can hear her. “yeah? the famous one?”

“mhm,” she nods quickly, then lowers her voice, like she’s letting him in on a secret. “and whatever position she does—”

he groans quietly, already knowing.

“—we’re trying it,” she finishes, smug

he huffs out a laugh, shaking his head. “you’re unbelievable.”

“you love it,” she shoots back instantly.

he doesn’t deny it.

the crowd gets louder, more chaotic, like everyone knows what’s coming.

and then sabrina pauses.

the pause.

the one everyone waits for.

she says the line — playful, teasing — and then she drops down into a low, exaggerated squat, one leg bent, the other stretched out, leaning back just enough to make the whole thing look ridiculous and confident at the same time.

the crowd loses it.

and she loses it too, laughing so hard she has to grab onto him again.

“oh my god,” she gasps. “did you see that?”

he’s laughing now too, shaking his head. “you’re not serious.”

she tilts her head, giving him that look. “you heard me earlier.”

“that was a joke.”

“was it?”

he exhales, eyes dragging over her face, the way she’s still smiling, still a little breathless. “you’re going to be the death of me.”

she just beams.

it sits between them the rest of the night.

unspoken, but there.

in the way his hand doesn’t leave her waist.

in the way she leans into him just a little more than usual.

in the way they both keep thinking about it.

the hotel room feels too quiet after.

like everything’s slowed down too suddenly.

she shuts the door behind them, kicking off her shoes with a small laugh, running a hand through her hair. “that was insane.”

“yeah,” he says, but he’s not really talking about the concert anymore.

she turns toward him, catching the shift immediately.

“what?” she asks, softer now.

he steps closer, not rushing it. “you remember what you said?”

her smile changes — smaller, more deliberate. “about what?”

he raises a brow.

she laughs under her breath, stepping into him, fingers curling into the front of his shirt. “you’re still thinking about that?”

“hard not to,” he admits.

there’s a beat.

then she tilts her head, playful but not backing down. “so?”

his hands find her waist again, slower this time, more intentional. “so you weren’t joking.”

“i don’t think you want me to be,” she murmurs.

that does something to him.

you can see it — the way his jaw tightens slightly, the way his grip shifts, pulling her just a little closer.

“you don’t even know if we can,” he says, quieter now.

she shrugs lightly, but her eyes don’t leave his. “guess we’ll have to try.”

there’s a pause.

then he laughs — low, almost disbelieving — before shaking his head. “you’re impossible.”

“and you still took me here,” she reminds him

“yeah,” he says, leaning down, voice dropping, “i did.”

and then he kisses her.

it’s not rushed.

not messy.

it’s slow at first, like he’s testing something, like he’s deciding how far this is actually going to go — until she leans into it, presses closer, and that hesitation disappears completely.

his hands tighten at her waist, guiding, steadying, and suddenly the space between them feels too small, too charged.

she laughs softly against his mouth at one point, breathless. “you’re overthinking it.”

“am i?” he murmurs.

“mhm.”

and she shifts slightly, just enough to remind him of the conversation, the joke that isn’t really a joke anymore.

he exhales, shaking his head again, but he doesn’t stop her.

doesn’t pull away.

if anything, he leans in more.

“you’re serious,” he says, like he’s still trying to process it.

she smiles, softer now, but just as sure. “i told you.”

another pause.

then his hands slide, adjusting, grounding, like he’s decided.

“fine,” he mutters.

she lets out a quiet laugh. “fine?”

“don’t push it,” he warns, but there’s no real bite to it.

just heat.

just that same energy from earlier, carried into something quieter, more private, but no less intense.

and whatever awkwardness there could’ve been fades quickly — replaced by soft laughter, by figuring it out together, by the kind of closeness that feels less like a performance and more like something just theirs.

by the time they finally settle, the city noise faint outside the windows, she’s curled into him, still smiling.

“worth it?” she asks, teasing.

he huffs out a quiet laugh, pulling her closer. “you’re never letting this go, are you?”

“never.”

and honestly, he doesn’t mind.

tags: @amelialovesrafe @alyisdead @illumoria @blissfulbutterfliess @sydneysslove @matthewswifeyy @meetmeintheemeraldpool @lcversvoid @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @cokewithcameron @drewrry @harubunnyy @lifeonawhim @usseraloo

suny777-deactivated20260301

𝓘𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓦𝓱𝓲𝓽𝓮 𝓗𝓸𝓾𝓼𝓮, 𝓦𝓮 𝓦𝓱𝓲𝓼𝓹𝓮𝓻

𝓟𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓲𝓭𝓮𝓷𝓽!𝓡𝓪𝓯𝓮 x 𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻(here is pt.2 and pt.3)

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Rafe Cameron x Reader

𝐀𝐔: President!Rafe

𝐏𝐎𝐕: Third Person (Reader focused)

𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐄: Dark • Toxic Marriage • Political Drama

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒:

toxic relationship, emotional & verbal abuse, infidelity, domestic conflict, controlling behavior, anger, manipulation, cheating, light smut, Toxic Marriage, Dark, 18+

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘:

You are the First Lady of the United States. Your husband, President Rafe Cameron, belongs to the country… and his mysteries. When the truth finally spills out, the cracks in your marriage become impossible to ignore.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

No one could ever imagine how lonely the White House actually is.

It looks like it’s standing perfectly still while the room full of interviewers pretend not to notice detention between the President and First Lady.

The interview smiles kindly, question cards in his hand. “Mr. President,” he begins, “what is it like holding all the responsibility of leading the United States?”

Rafe doesn’t hesitate.

He straightens, shoulders squared, voice smooth practiced. “It’s an honor,” he says. “Every day I wake up knowing my duty is to protect this country. To protect the world from threats people don’t even see coming.”

A few approving nods ripple through the room.

“I don’t take that lightly,” he continues. “Leadership means sacrifice. It means strength. And it means making the hard decisions so others don’t have to.”

The cameras adore him. They always did.

You sit beside him, hands folded neatly, expression composed, the perfect picture of support, like he made you practice. No one asks what leadership costs the people closest to the President.

No one ever does

Rafe reaches for your arm not gently, not cruelly, just firm enough to remind you that you belong to him. His fingers dig into your sleeve as he pulls you half a step closer, positioning you the way he wants.

“Smile,” he mutters under his breath. “You look tired.”

You are tired.

But you smile anyway.

The interviewer turns to you next, voice softening. “And how do you feel supporting the most powerful man in the world?”

You open your mouth to answer, but Rafe cuts in before you can.

“She doesn’t worry about things like that,” he says, laughing sharply. “That’s my job.”

A few people shift uncomfortably. Someone behind the camera clears their throat.

You try again. “I think—”

Rafe’s hand tightens. “I said I’ve got it.”

Your heart stutters, but something in you small, desperate, aching pushes back.

“I can speak for myself,” you say.

It comes out quiet. Careful. Almost apologetic.

Rafe turns slowly.

“What did you say?”

You don’t answer. You can’t. The room feels too small, too full of eyes pretending to be blind.

He steps closer and grabs your face, fingers firm against your jaw, forcing you to look at him. His smile never reaches his eyes.

“No,” he says softly. “Say it again.”

Your lips part, but no sound comes out.

“That’s what I thought,” he snaps, releasing you like you’re something unpleasant. “You embarrass yourself when you talk. Let me handle it.”

The silence that follows is loud.

Too loud.

You can feel eyes darting between you and him, the way people look at something they’re not supposed to notice.

You stare at the floor. The carpet pattern is familiar. You’ve memorized it over the years.

When the interview finally wraps, Rafe doesn’t wait for the room to clear.

“When this is done,” he says flatly, turning to the producers, “I want to be in the editing room. I’ll decide what stays.”

No one argues.

You feel something sting behind your eyes sharp and humiliating. You blink hard, lifting your hand to wipe it away before it falls.

Too late.

Rafe’s head snaps toward you. His voice drops, dangerous and quiet.

“Don’t cry.”

You freeze.

“Not here,” he adds. “Get yourself together.”

The cameras are off now, but the room still feels watched. You nod, swallowing everything back down until it burns.

That afternoon, the West Wing is glowing gold with evening light, and Holly, you and Rafe’s six-year-old daughter, is standing at the window again.

She doesn’t hear you at first.

Her forehead is pressed gently against the glass, small hands cupped around her eyes like she’s trying to see farther than the world will let her.

“Holly?” you ask softly.

She turns, hopeful for just a second — then it fades when she sees it’s only you.

“I’m waiting for Daddy,” she says.

Your chest tightens. “What are you waiting for, sweetheart?”

“He said he might come home early today.” She shrugs like she’s trying to be brave. “He didn’t say for sure.”

You walk over and kneel beside her, pulling her close. She smells like soap and crayons and the safety he never seems to bring with him.

“Why is he never here?” she asks quietly. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” you say immediately, too fast. “No, baby. Never.”

She watches your face, too smart for six years old. “Then why?”

You look back out the window at the gates, the guards, the world he belongs to more than he ever belonged to either of you.

“He’s… protecting people,” you say carefully. “The whole world, really. It’s a very big job.”

Holly nods, thinking hard about that. “So he’s a hero?”

You hesitate. Just for a second.

“Yes,” you say finally. “He is.”

She smiles, satisfied for now, and rests her head against your shoulder.

You stay there long after the sun disappears, holding your daughter, staring at a window that never seems to open wondering how long you can keep lying to both of you.

You look back out the window at the gates, the guards, the world he belongs to more than he ever belonged to either of you.

This house never sleeps. It just pretends

The halls are too quiet tonight, the kind of quiet that presses against your ribs until breathing feels like rebellion. Somewhere down the corridor, a clock ticks with the authority of a judge. You wonder how many secrets these walls have swallowed whole.

You already know the answer.

Rafe doesn’t look at you when you enter the bedroom. His suit jacket is tossed over the chair like an afterthought, his cufflinks still on always half-present, even when he’s here. Even when he’s with you.

You are the First Lady of the United States.

And yet you have never felt smaller.

Holly is asleep down the hall. You checked on her twice already the soft rise and fall of her chest grounding you in something real. Rafe hadn’t noticed. He rarely does.

Tonight is supposed to be different.

You tell yourself that like it’s a campaign slogan.

You cross the room, the carpet swallowing your steps, and when he finally turns toward you, there’s a flicker of surprise irritation, maybe like he forgot you existed until now.

You don’t argue.

You don’t accuse.

You just reach for him.

For a moment, it almost works.

Your hands slide in his pajama pants, on his cock, familiar and practiced, fingers teasing as you press your lips to his neck. He inhales sharply like he’s starving and then suddenly the world tilts.

Rafe flips you onto your back without hesitation, his weight settling over you as if this is instinct. He lines himself up to your vagina before quickly, thrusting into you. There’s no patience in it, no tenderness — just urgency, just need, just habit.

The world narrows. The noise fades. There’s warmth, familiarity, the ghost of what this used to be. You close your eyes and pretend this is a marriage instead of a performance.

And then he moans her name.

It slips out of him like muscle memory.

Not yours.

Your body stills instantly. You pull away, pushing against his chest, the spell snapping so hard it hurts.

“What did you just call me?” Your voice is calm too calm.

Rafe stiffens. His jaw tightens, eyes darkening like he’s been waiting for this.

“You’re hearing things.”

He pulls back abruptly, the warmth gone in an instant. He looks at you like you’ve broken something.

“You see how you ruin everything?” he snaps. “I’m not even in the mood for sex anymore.”

He shifts away from you, already reaching for the edge of the bed, already done.

You sit there for a second, stunned, before tying your robe around yourself with shaking hands. The fabric feels too thin, too exposed. Rafe doesn’t look at you as he goes to the closet, yanking clothes from hangers, movements sharp and irritated.

You let out a laugh that doesn’t sound like it belongs to you.

“Don’t do that,” you say. “Don’t lie to me like I’m stupid.”

“I said nothing,” he snaps, already defensive. “You’re always looking for a fight.”

“No,” you say quietly. “I’m always finding proof.”

Silence stretches between you, thick and suffocating.

Something in your chest finally gives.

“I’ve loved you for years, Rafe,” you say, and your voice cracks immediately. You hate that it does. “Years. I gave you everything.”

He doesn’t respond.

“My life,” you choke out. “My name. My silence. I gave you a beautiful daughter.”

Tears spill freely now, unchecked, humiliating. You gesture toward him, hands shaking.

“And this is what I get in return? This?”

Rafe exhales sharply, impatient. “You’re being dramatic.”

That’s when it turns.

“You know,” you say, sitting up straighter despite the tears, heart pounding, “you are a terrible husband.”

His head snaps up.

“You cheat,” you continue. “You don’t even bother hiding it anymore. You know I know and you do it anyway.”

“That’s enough.”

“And you’re a worse father,” you go on, the words spilling now. “Holly barely knows you. She waits for you by the window when you say you’ll come home, and you never do. Do you even realize what that does to her?”

Rafe stands abruptly. “Don’t bring her into this.”

“She’s already in it,” you fire back. “Just like the rest of the world would be if they saw who you really are. If they knew how fucking shitty you are behind closed doors…how the great President Cameron treats his own family like—”

The vase hits the wall behind you before you can finish the sentence.

Glass shatters. Something crashes to the floor. Your heart slams into your throat as fragments rain down like fallout.

Rafe doesn’t flinch.

He just stands there, chest rising fast, eyes burning with something that isn’t regret it’s rage.

“Maybe,” he says coldly, grabbing clothes from the closet, “if you weren’t so fucking ungrateful… if you knew how to keep your mouth shut and be a good wife”

You say nothing.

You don’t have to.

He yanks on his jacket, buttons it wrong, doesn’t care. As he storms past you, he doesn’t look back.

The door slams.

And for the first time, the White House feels exactly as empty as your marriage.

🦢𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄🦢

Hello everyone! This is my first ever fanfic that I’ve written, and I really hope you all love it. 🤍

Please don’t be shy if you have any requests, I’m open! I mainly write for Rafe Cameron, but I might be open to others too.

I hope you all enjoy it and find it as fun (and dark) as I did writing it. Also give me your guys honest opinions on what you guys think. I really wanna know some feedback and if there’s anything I should fix or do differently. I would also greatly appreciate it if you guys would re-blog it🤍

morguesiren

⊹ ࣪ ˖ PAIRING ♥︎ drug dealer!rafe x mousy!reader

⊹ ࣪ ˖ SUMMARY ♥︎ rafe is looking after your daughter while you go out on a date.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ CONTENT TAGS ♥︎ fluff! ꒰ 𝟏𝐤 ꒱

⊹ ࣪ ˖ AUTHOR'S NOTE ♥︎ happy valentine’s day!! i don’t have a valentine but i do have an imagination!!

MOUSE READER જ⁀➴ ♥︎ RAFE CAMERON ⊹ ࣪ ˖

you hadn't been on a date since anastasia was born.

looking at your own reflection in the mirror, you smoothed down the floral dress you were wearing, turning around, trying to see yourself from every angle possible. having your daughter had made you feel somewhat insecure about your body, had caused you to question every single outfit you thought about wearing.

but then you thought back to how you'd met him.

you tried your best to take anastasia on a walk every day, knowing that fresh air was good for babies. now, the infant was sleeping peacefully in her stroller as you stood in front of the library shelf. you got on the tip of your toes, trying to reach a book that was on the top shelf, your fingers just about reaching it, only for a larger hand to easily pluck it up.

you turned to see a dark-haired man standing there, a smile on his lips as he held the book out for you, "here you go."

"thanks..." you mumbled softly, your cheeks feeling warm due to his closeness.

nadvs

cam girl (part one)

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 teases 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

sematarygirls

EX-CONVICT!BABYDADDY!RAFE x FEM!READER

WARNINGS .ᐟ unprotected p in v, breeding kink if you squint, heavyyyy angst, rafe being an asshole (as per usual), brief mentions of guns/police raid and drugs

NOTES .ᐟ guys, i need him so bad, like actually. based on this concept from my silly little brain. dad!rafe stays in my mind 24/7, but this is me we're talking about, so of course, i had to put a lil spin on it. also this turned out way longer than i meant it to, woah

After almost four years, you were finally starting to feel like you were getting your shit together. You were living in a nice house in a nice neighborhood where everyone knew everyone—the kind of place where people literally asked their neighbors for cups of sugar. You had a stable job that allowed you to live comfortably and provide for yourself and your daughter, and you had a big St. Bernard, lovingly named Moonshine after you'd watched one too many episodes of Moonshiners, that provided a sense of safety and security when the nights were cold and the paranoia started to creep into your mind.

l0caltiredgirl

fanfiction writers are the literal backbone of society

apostollus-deactivated20260327

i absolutely adore it when y/n has a distinct background and personality. i adore it even more when a piece is completely self-indulgent, such as having race, features and all that.

ofc as long as it's all properly tagged. i'm very picky with what i read, so i understand anyone's dislike for such, but what i never do is actively voice my dislike for them, let alone ridicule them.

a reminder as old as time: x reader fics are written mostly to indulge ourselves first before anyone, so not every fic will cater to you.

find a writer that does what you're looking for or be the one to present yourself in the fic you want to see yourself in.

LET WRITERS HAVE FUN WITH THEIR Y/N

idgaf if y/n does things that i wouldn't have done, "mis-characterizing me" "couldn't be me" "id never do that" idgaffffff shut up.

if the fic is clearly not a blank slate kind of work, then that's an immediate tell that it's not written for everyone to just fit into it which is a sign for you to not read it.

those kinds of comments have done its course a long time ago, and it's time for you to start writing if you still have that mindset.

alyisdead

Visit Original Link

Patrick Stump | Everybody Here Wants You (Jeff Buckley Cover)

I know everybody here wants you I know everybody here thinks he needs you I’ll be waiting right here just to show you How our love will blow it all away

glassbxttless

Miss Henderson

eddie munson x henderson sister!reader

word count: 2.7k+

summary: Joseph Quinn Character Fall 2025 Fic Exchange: Eddie Munson | It’s Eddie’s girls first day of school.

warnings: single dad!eddie, henderson sister!reader, teacher!reader, some tears are shed.

notes: This fic is a contribution to the @jqficexchange and was written for @xemmjx! Three lovely underwriters worked on this after the original author could no longer participate! So big thank you to, @punkrockmlchael and @peachyproserpina for writing the biggest portions of the story so quickly and to @glassbxttless for editing. We hope it’s enjoyable!

ladyfluff

An: ep 1 is insane so heres a treat

alyisdead

Picture the moment when your mom or dad first saw you as something other than a pretty, tiny version of them. You as them, but improved. Better educated. Innocent. Then picture when you stopped being their dream.

Rant - Chuck Palahniuk

basmentbunnyyy

Bitter nostalgia Pt.1 Dark!Rafe Cameron x Plus size!reader

You after many years you move back to the outer banks when your father gets a job opportunity he can't pass up. Only to realize your childhood best friend is well...different than you remember.

PART TWO HERE

Content warning: NON CON/DUB CON. Bullying, body shaming, manipulation, series cannon violence, power play, slowburn?? not really alot of plot tho. (This is a really dark and trauma induced fantasy, if anyone irl ever treats you like this please beat their ass!! Rafe's behavior is NOT okay)

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹

A pleasant sigh escaped your mouth as you lean against the warm car window, taking in all the sights and sounds of the water. You roll in your seat, now facing your father.

"So, how'd you get this job anyways? We're hours away from home, how'd you even hear about it?" You ask your dad, mindlessly fidgeting with the strap of your bag.

"Well, an old friend of mine recommended me for it, put in a good name for me and the pay was almost too good to believe, so here we are honey."

You smile softly at your father, knowing he only wanted what was best for the family. The extra funds were needed for paying off your school, and if spending a summer in an unfamiliar place vanishes your student debt then so be it. Still, the thought of spending the summer in a place where you knew nobody made your stomach twist in knots, a pout placed on your face in thought of your friends you left behind.

Your father glances your way and sends an empathetic smile, resting a comforting hand on your shoulder.

"Don't worry peanut, it's only for the summer" He reassures, you smile back at him, holding back a huff at the nickname.

Before you can remind him, you're an adult and prefer not to be called such names, he pats your knee, exciting exclaiming,

"Look peanut!! We're here!" He points at the beachy resort ahead that made your jaw drop.

The clean, soft sand blanketed the premises of the luxurious resort, from the car you could see employees in pristine white polos whisking away people's luggage's into the different colorful villas, above swung tall palm trees, moving with the ebb and flow of the wind. Everything had an air of wealth to it, from the guests in their designer beach bags, to even the staff, who seemed to keep a dignified, almost regal aura despite lugging around bags and cleaning all day. You gawked at the lavishness of it all and blurted out.

"We're staying here?? How?!" You looked down at your clothes and suddenly felt all too out of place. Realizing the wealth gap between you and the other guests here.

"Well, my old buddy Ward Cameron who got me the job also got me a killer deal on lodgings for the summer. I can't believe it peanut, he's a great guy, really" Your father said giddily, the sand hitting the cars wheels as you slowly made your way towards parking.

A valet in a polo, chinos, and a white visor with the resort emblem approaches, along with another employee. They make quick work of your car and luggage, showing you to your villa.

"Ward..." You dragged out the name, wracking your brain to try and figure out why the name was so familiar.

"We used to be very close friends when we lived down here a long time ago honey, I used to take you to play dates with his kid all the time, you guys were pretty close too."

"Hmm" You hum, pretending to remember who he was talking about, you searched the back recesses of your brain to try and remember your childhood friends, you vaguely remember your time living in the outer banks. You remember visiting a large house pretty often, but the contexts of those days have been lost with time.

The villa was as breath taking up-close as it was far away, the employee sat down your bags, and you went to your room to unpack, reveling in the soft duvet of the queen-sized bed, it felt like heaven compared to the springy twin sized one you had at home. You rolled over when you heard your father open your door.

"Hey peanut, Ward wants to meet for dinner to go over some last-minute arrangements, put on something nice we gotta leave soon." He sing-songs, practically dancing around the villa, it warmed your heart to see your dad so happy, so, as tired as you were from the drive, you try to get ready quickly.

You pull on a white sundress, some sandals, and fix your hair as best you could, along with a simple makeup look. You did a once over in the mirror and realized how short your dress was, it was an older dress, and you've gotten taller since then. You nervously play with the hem of the dress, exposing your plush thighs, your eyes trail up your body, and you realize you fill out the dress more than you used to. It makes your cheeks heat up in embarrassment and you go to change when you father knocks on the door, telling you to hurry up. You sigh, and resign yourself to feeling a bit self-conscious, rather than your father being late upon the first meeting and looking unprofessional.

The restaurant wasn't far from the resort, a fancy seaside restaurant with waiters in suits, and different sizes of spoons and forks. You felt intimidation prick at the back of your neck, and you look to your father for reassurance. He looks too happy to notice your concern as he eyes the gorgeous interior of the restaurant. You approach the host station where a family of five seems to be standing in wait. They were all dressed immaculately, an older, yet handsome looking man, with his pretty blonde wife on his arm. Next to them were two daughters talking amongst themselves, and off to the side an annoyed looking son who wouldn't look up from his phone.

The father looked up and smiled at your dad going in for a hug.

"My man! It's been too long!" Ward smiles and bear hugs your dad. He glances down at you and his eyes brighten.

"Look at you honey! You've grown so much I remember when you were this tall" Ward chuckles, gesturing to his hip.

You smile politely and nod. "It's nice to meet you Mr. Cameron." You say meekly.

He chuckles "no need for the formalities sweetheart, just call me Ward" He assures, he pauses and looks back at his wife and kids, introducing them one by one.

"Man, last time I saw you guys, you were dropping this one off for a playdate at my place" Ward laughs heartily. You suddenly feel your face heat up, not knowing which of his daughters he was referring to. The one with black hair looked for too young to be an old playmate, so you settled on the one who looked only a little younger than you, Sarah.

You clear your throat and smile towards the blonde daughter.

"Uhh, long time no see Sarah haha" You joke nervously, only to be met with a confused look from Sarah and a few seconds of miserable silence, broken by Ward's hearty laugh.

"Oh honey, Sarah wasn't who you played with, she's a bit younger than you, I'm talking about my son Rafe."

He gestures towards the tall man; you got a better look at him this time. Dirty blond hair hung in a middle part down his face. His cobalt eyes locked you in an intense stare, his eyes raked up and down your frame, giving you a look of barely concealed disgust. He rolled his broad shoulders back and you ripped your eyes away, looking down at your feet instead, the weight of his gaze too much to bear.

No one acknowledged the obvious glower Rafe was sending your way and you figured this was just his normal behavior his family had come accustom to. You laughed nervously, nails digging into the straps on your bag. You begin to wish the night was ending already, anything to break this unbearable tension. Thankfully your prayers were answered by a host coming to seat you all.

You all made your way to the large table outside. The salty wind ruffled your dress, and you gasped softly, grabbing the hem of the dress and pulling it down. You hear a mean snicker behind you, you snap your head towards the source of the noise, and you see Rafe smirking cruelly at you, he leans in close and whispers.

"Maybe if you picked a dress that actually fit, you wouldn’t have all this, on display” he pinches the fat on your thigh meanly, making you yelp and stop in your tracks, looking at him in disbelief, your eyes bulged from your head and your face burned with embarrassment. Rafe could only chuckle at your reaction and tap your thigh, right underneath your ass.

“Keep it moving thunder thighs” Rafe chides as he brushes past you, making sure to shoulder check you as hard as he could without being noticed.

You felt anger simmering deep within your stomach as you stomped to the table.

“Who the hell did this guy think he was anyways? He can’t talk to me that way! what a pretentious asshole!” You thought to yourself, steam basically puffing from your ears.

You then saw your dad making conversation with Ward, they looked happy, and it was enough to ground you. ‘This wasn’t about you’ you told yourself, reminding yourself that even if his son was being a selfish prick you didn’t have to engage. 'Just one night', you reminded yourself, then it’s relaxing at the resort and no more seeing that dudes obnoxious face.

There were two seats left, you frowned when you realized you'd had to sit next to that spoiled little prick. You sat down with a soft huff, anger still fuming from your body. The table was huge, and seats had a good amount of space between them. A few other colleagues of Ward's had joined you guys and had already claimed their seats You hear the chair scrape next to you and you hold back a sigh. Rafe sat down and scooted his chair a little closer to you, you raise your eyebrow at him but choose to ignore it, crossing your arms over your midsection, feeling even more insecure due to the jackass next to you.

"Look at them, just like old times" Your father laughs and you look up, you attempt to smile but your cheek twitches and decide to hide your face in the menu. Ward, his collogues, and your father are catching up, as well as discussing business, Rose is listening intently, Sarah and Wheezie are on their phones, and you wouldn't dare look over at Rafe. Your eyes scan the rather large menu and your eyes bulge at the prices. You settle on the cheapest thing when you feel Rafe lean in behind the menu, pressing his nose behind your ear. You freeze in place, your grip on the menu becoming tighter. You could smell his expensive cologne and feel the warmth he radiated. He whispered,

"Don't worry, my dad knows you guys are poor as shit, its on us tonight."

He mocks and you feel your heartbeat speed up, whether it was from anger or Rafe's close proximity you didn't know. Rose's giggle cuts through the air.

" Aww what're you two whispering about over there?" Rose teases and you lower the menu, looking a bit frazzled but before you could reply, Rafe cuts in.

"Just showing her what's good on the menu, right?"

He looks at you sweetly and it makes your stomach sour, you can easily see the smile doesn't reach his eyes and beneath lays a thin layer a patience ready to pop. You swallow, attempting to rid the dry feeling in your mouth

"Mhm" you nod simply, and Rafe smiles wider.

During dinner everyone seemed to be preoccupied with each other, eating expensive seafood and talking. You decided it would be better if you just kept to yourself, scrolling though apps on your phone and wishing you could vanish out of thin air. You mindlessly prodded at your plate with your fork, appetite long gone.

"It's rude to not accept what you're given."

Rafe says, nodding towards your food, you huff and look the other way, not giving him the satisfaction of responding.

"Or...are you afraid of gaining more of this?" He asks, his voice full of spite, his hand snaking under the table to grab your stomach.

You smack his hand away, looking around to see if anyone saw what he just did to you, sighing when no one even glanced your way, too enveloped in either business talk or social media.

You're red in the face, heart pulsing loudly in your ears when you lean in and snarl "Fuck off".

Rafe shoots back an amused smirk and leans back, ignoring you for the rest of the night, except for the occasional stare that made you want to crawl out of your skin. You spend the rest of dinner trying to calm yourself down.

After dinner, Ward asks if you guys can come over for drinks and dessert.

"Rose makes an amazing cherry pie" Ward smiles,

"And I've got some scotch you just have to try" He tells your dad.

You shoot a pleading look to your father, but he was already agreeing happily. As you're walking out of the restaurant, you pull your dad aside.

"Dad, do we have to go?" You ask, exasperated.

"Aw peanut, I know you're tired, but Ward and I have a few more things to cover." He says apologetically

You sigh and cross your arms,

"No no, it's not that I'm tired, it's just...well...Rafe, he-"

"I know honey, it's awkward, you haven't seen him in over a decade let alone remember the whole family, but just promise me you'll at least try and get along with them? Just for tonight, then you can relax at the resort all you want while your old man works his butt off." Your dad chuckles.

You let out a long sigh, it was always hard saying no to your dad, or anyone really, so you give in.

The drive to the Cameron residence was awfully quiet.

corrodedwriter

BAD LUCK ⚡️ PT 1 | Best Friend!Eddie x Fem!Reader

Series summary: You’re resigned to a life in your best friend’s shadow, letting her walk all over you in designer heels because life is just easier that way. But when she takes the one thing that matters, you decide enough is enough. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

WC: ~4k

Warnings: angst, jealousy, pining, unrequited love (for now), brief mention of f!masturbation, reader has poor self-image, swearing, heartbreak, eventual smut, eventual witchcraft/occult themes, eventual dark-ish!reader, everyone is 21+

A/N: Originally posted 09/10/24

18+ MDNI MASTERLIST

Over the years you had come to realize that in life there were certain indisputable truths — things that you could count on happening time and time again without fail.

A fumbled slice of bread would inevitably land on the floor butter-side down. The checkout line you picked at the supermarket would end up moving the slowest every time. And, perhaps most notably, your best friend Georgina Banks would always get whatever she wanted.

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