this blog contains content that is not suitable for readers under the age of eighteen
this blog was created by and for black women/fem-aligned fans to have a space to feel included; meaning all OCs and reader inserts are written with black women in mind. however, all works are for anyone to enjoy.
summary: he wants you to show him how much you missed him.
warnings: um tit-fucking, briefest mention of nipples being played with, a little bit of spitting cause you gotta lube it up duh. I THINK that's it? this work is not suitable for minors, so please stay away, k? thanks!
letter from lyn: you all can act like i posted this on the 2nd and not today! this took me FOREVER to write for some reason. i have never written tit fucking so if this sucks, im sorry :( keep it to yourself or ill delete my account. but i hope it's not awful i reread it like 12 times.
wordcount: 2,159 (probably my longest fic)
you walk through the bunker, the air feeling heavy, almost repressive around you. your feet carry you before you can even think — straight to the basement. sam told you several times to stay away, yet it was like a beacon, calling out for you to come. he knew you wouldn’t be able to withstand seeing dean like this. and yet, you couldn’t resist.
you had to know, even if it wasn’t what you wanted to see.
your hand trembled on the doorknob, uncertain but yet so certain at the same time. curiosity was stronger than any alarm going off in your head. a shaky hand turns the knob, pushing the door open, the hinges groaning in a way that felt like mockery.
it’s silent. almost too silent.
you reach to your side, heart pounding in your ears, and flip the switch on. the fluorescent light stuns you for a brief moment. your eyes adjust as you take in the metal retainer cabinets. on any other day, they wouldn’t be imposing, not today though. they stand tall, filled to the top with useless shit, most of which has been untouched since the bunker came to be. to anyone else, there’s nothing behind them. but anyone familiar with the layout of the bunker knows that isn’t true.
your hand reaches around the pole of one cabinet, pulling it back towards you with ease. the rolling feet squeal in protest at the shift of the cabinet. the crates stacked on the unit are merely distractions, simply there to make the cabinet look heavy, to keep people from even bothering to try.
you peer through the opening, your breath catching as soon as you spot him. he’s hunched over in the chair, head sagging between his shoulders, wrists bound to the arms of the chair, thighs spread in an almost obscene way. for a moment he’s unmoving, so still it makes you question if he’s asleep, almost missing the small twitch of the muscle in his thigh.
“should you be here, sweetheart?” he hums, his voice rumbling out low and clearly amused, laced in a mocking lilt. his head lifts slowly, pitch-black eyes stare straight back at you.
“i had to see you,” you whisper, voice sounding timid and guilty all at once, you know you aren’t supposed to be here. however, you already crossed the line so there’s no turning back now.
“didn’t sammy tell you to stay away,” he hums, dark eyes sliding down your body like a heated caress. “but you couldn’t help yourself, could you, hm?”
“dean, you have to let sam and cas help you,” your insist, voice firm but a desperate plea. you know he’s in there somewhere, listening to you. but all you're met with is cold indifference and something notably hungrier, something that sends goosebumps rising across your skin.
he doesn’t speak for a moment, giving you time to assess him. there’s nothing wrong with him on the outside. he’s unharmed, but the energy radiating off him in angry waves? that’s wrong. it’s dark and…predatory. he’s like a tornado, willing and ready to destroy anything and anyone in his path.
“you gonna stand there and stare?” he scoffs, slouching back in the metal chair, the demon sigil under him is the only thing keeping him in place. a grin curling across his face. “c’mere. i won’t bite. unless you want me to.”
your feet betray you, carrying you toward him with the same compliance as always. it’s not like you could help it, dean was dean. you were always drawn to him. always seeking him out in crowded rooms, determined to be at his side no matter what. now was no different. you had faith the boys could tear this forsakenness out of dean — you had faith he was still your dean.
“could never resist me, could you?” he hums, mockery dripped in every word, his head tilting as you step closer. his brow quirks up as you stop right at the edge of the sigil. “come on, baby, don’t you wanna come closer?”
“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mumble, your gaze flickering away from him. a cheap attempt to not feed into him anymore than you have.
“don’t play coy now, sweet girl,” he pressed, he could always read you like a book. even when you were being stubborn and fighting him every step of the way. “we both know you can’t stay away.”
he stretches out a large, rough hand towards you — beckoning you closer to him the best he can against the bite of the rope. and for some reason, despite every nerve ending telling you not to do it, you do it, closing the last remaining distance between you.
a moth to a flame.
“atta girl,” he grins, watching as you finally step closer. your foot halts over the edge of the entrapment sigil, before you step over. the black marking smudging beneath your foot, unbeknownst to you.
he noticed though.
and like a switch, something snaps in dean. the power caged inside the circle surges through the room. a pulsing beat thrumming through the basement like a heartbeat. leaving a metallic, foul taste in the air. the fluorescent lights over head flicker aggressively, the room being bathed in pure darkness for a beat, then snapping back on.
your gaze falls back to dean, still seated. his eyebrow is raised in question, a slight tug of a grin on his lips. the ropes that once restrained him are gone, laying discarded on the floor beside the chair. you should feel fear — he’s free now after all — but you don’t.
“scared, sweetheart?” he hums, tilting his head to take you in now standing properly in front of him. “there she is. my sweet girl.” a possessive claim wrapped in pure filth and promise.
the term of endearment falls from his lips with ease, so distinctly dean but not at the same time. his voice full of intent, the kind that makes heat pool in your lower belly. the same voice he uses right before he fucks you. but this time, it sounds more like he wants to devour you, to consume you whole.
he’s drawing you in, whether you realize it or not.
“you know i missed you,” he murmurs lowly, like he’s sharing a secret just between the two of you. “sammy’s been keepin’ us apart. can you believe that?”
the scoff in his voice is hard to miss. he’s saying all the right things, the things you want to hear. it’s hard to tell if he actually means them or not though. somewhere in the back of your mind, your brain is telling you not to believe him, every other part is telling you something different.
“he wouldn’t let me see you,” you faltered, your heart pounding so loudly in your ears it sounds like a drum. you take a step back as he stands, his broad form towering over you.
“aww sweetheart,” he coos gently, hand reaching out to grip your chin gently. “he’s so mean ain’t he?”
your voice fails you, all you’re able to muster up is a small nod. his touch sends jolts through your body, the time apart having taken a toll on you. your hand reaches up to hold his wrist gently, a touch that should have reassured him — yet he seemed indifferent to.
“how much you miss me, huh?” he croons, hand shifting from your chin to cup your jaw more firmly, tilting your head back so you meet his eye.
“a lot,” you mumble, his intense gaze keeping you hooked, practically pinned in place.
“yeah?” he grins, the rough pad of his thumb swiping over your bottom lip gently, dragging it down slightly. “that’s my girl.”
he lets his thumb trace your bottom lip again before pulling away, dropping back into the wooden chair. the wood practically protesting under his weight. “you know… i just don’t believe that you missed me.”
“i did,” you protest quickly, stepping forward before you can stop yourself, his thighs spreading wider to accommodate your form.
“hmm,” he hums in thought, eyes raking over you before leaning back further. “why don’t you prove it for me then?”
“how?” your words don’t even hesitate, firm and absolute. you would do anything to make him happy, and dean knows it.
“come on, baby, use that pretty little head of yours,” he mused, his position lax. “make me come.” his tone is blunt, not mincing any words.
your fingers instantly reach for the waist band of your bottoms, because who are you to deny him?
“uh uh,” he tuts, tongue clicking in disapproval like he’s scolding a puppy. his mouth twists up in a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “on your knees.”
just like that, it only takes three words to have you sinking onto your knees between his parted thighs. your hands settling on his thighs patiently — awaiting his next instruction. your eyes darting across his face, watching as for approval, but his eyes drop down to your tanktop clad chest. Your nipples pebbled against the thin material.
“use your tits, sweetheart,” he says simply, absolutely firm in how he wants you to give him pleasure. no negotiation to be had.
you don’t stall. the tanktop peels off your body and drops beside you, baring your tits for deans heated gaze. he can read the uncertainty in your movements, the way your hands can’t seem to stay still on his thighs.
“unbuckle my jeans, doll,” he murmurs, his voice deceptively soft. every word is coaxing, designed to remind how he owns you — your mind, your body, your entire being. his lidded eyes track your clumsy fingers as they fumbling with his belt. “atta girl.”
it takes you a couple tries, but you finally release him, his cock jumping free, tip flushed a bright angry red. he look calm, collected, like he isn’t bothered, but his body is aching for you to give him something. anything. his hand reaches out tugging your body closer so it’s easier for you to reach him.
“press your tits together,” he mutters, voice a rough rasp with need, dark eyes watching as you follow his order. the soft flesh of your tits closing around his thick length. your gaze flickering up to search his face for approval, only receiving a grunt.
“use spit,” he mutters, thighs spreading wider, framing your figure between his knees. something in his dark gaze flashes as you obey, letting a glob of spit fall from your lips. it lands right on the swollen head of his cock.
“fuckin’ hell,” he grits out, voice strained.his hand reaches out to tug at your hair, a sharp enough tug to make your scalp tingle, a nonverbal command to move.
and so you do. your tits squeezing around his cock, moving up and down slowly in a deliberate movement. his hand in your hair slips down to one of your nipples, rolling it between his rough fingers before offering a tug that makes you gasp. “speed up, baby.”
you instantly listen, quickening your strokes to something he wants more. his hips bucking upward, a strangled groan falls from his lips as his head drops back for a split second. when it returns to place, his gaze is fixed on you. unrelenting.
“more spit,” he rasps, struggling to keep his hips in place. his eyes follow another glob of spit, slicking his cock and making it easier for him to thrust between your cleavage. his hips begin to fuck up harder. you stay sat there, tits pressed together hard for him to use, while his focus shifts to his release, pre-cum beading at the top of his tip.
his groans only seem to deepen, cock practically twitching against your cleavage, he’s almost there. you take the hint, squeezing your tits tighter, allowing him more pressure, desperate to please him. his thumb pinches and twists your nipple as a reward.
his hips buck wildly, practically sloppy as pleasure paints his face. a deep groan rips from the back of his throat, his body tumbling over the edge. warm white ropes of cum spill across your chest, neck, and chin. once he’s done he sits back in satisfaction, his green eyes submerged by inky black voids.
you scramble back, trying to put distance between you, suddenly reminded why sam said to stay away. the lights flickering off plunging the room into darkness again…and then on. he’s no longer lounging in the chair. his head is cocked to the side, a grin etched across his face.
“don’t run away now, sweet girl,” he coos, crouching down to be at your level. his calloused hand clamps around your ankle, yanking you across the floor and closer to him. “can practically smell how wet you are for me.” his grin only seemed to widen, pearly whites flashing dangerously. “we’re only just gettin’ started.”
you’re straddling his lap on the couch, your skirt bunched up around your hips, panties already soaked through. the room is dim and quiet except for the sound of your ragged breathing. rafe’s hand clamps around your hip, fingers digging in hard enough to leave bruises, keeping you absolutely still. his other hand moves lazily, drawing slow, maddening circles over your clit, barely there, feather-light, like he’s doing it just to watch you shake.
every time you try to grind down on him, he tightens his grip and stops you dead.
“uh-uh, don’t move. you don’t get to cum until i say.”
you whine, the sound muffled against his neck. his touch is not enough to satisfy the ache between your legs—it’s teasing, a cruel ghost of relief. your thighs tremble from the effort of staying still. your fingers clutch at his shoulders like claws, nails biting into his skin.
your chest rise and fall quickly. breathless. shaking. his fingers start to press harder, movements faster. your back arched, whimpers left your lips as you hid your face in rafe’s neck. you feel it built, tension coiling low in your stomach. nails sank into his skin leaving marks.
and he only chuckles, the sound dark and rough.
he takes you right to the edge. you’re panting, clenching around nothing, while his touch sent shocks through your whole body. you were close. and just like that, one heartbeat away from release, he rips his hand away.
you gasped, opening your eyes, meeting his gaze, mocking and pungent. tears prick at the corners of your eyes. his lips wrinkled in a satisfied smile. he brings his slick fingers to his mouth, sucking your taste off them while you stare at him.
“rafe, please... i can't—” your voice cracks, trembling.
"that’s the point baby. you'll take what i give you" his hoarse voice, almost amused to see you so broken.
without warning, his fingers are on you again. two of them pushing deep into your pussy, filling you fast, stretching you. the sudden intrusion knocks a cry out of you, your hips jerking. this time, he doesn’t hold you still. he lets you grind down onto his hand, lets you ride his fingers like you’re starving for it. his eyes are locked on your face, wetting his lips, his own cock leaking against the inside of his sweats.
"oh please rafe... please—" you begged, your voice breaking. his fingers are merciless, hitting that spot deep inside that makes your back arch. another finger joins the first two, stretching you open further, filling you to the brim. you’re dripping down his wrist, a wet, obscene sound with every thrust.
"shit— 'm so fucking close, rafe— please" your sweet voice made rafe smile, hiding your face in his neck. your mind was dizzy, eyes closed and lips parted, his deep fingers flooded your senses. the shadow of another orgasm approached, your legs trembled, the tension in your lower abdomen heavy and looming.
you beg him, voice wrecked, but again, just as it’s about to crest, his fingers leave you.
a tear slips down your cheek. then another. you’re shaking, clinging to him, ruined and desperate. this time, his hand comes up to your face, wiping the tears gently, thumb brushing your skin like he’s soothing you.
“shh. you can take it, right? i know you can” his voice is soft but the words cut sharp.
you nod, tiny, broken. trusting him even now.
"that’s right" he said with a smile, placing a small kiss on your lips, savoring the taste of your tears. his soft lips on yours distracted you from his fingers, which came contact with your aching clit. he rubs slick, fast circles over the swollen nub, spreading your wetness everywhere. you moan against his mouth, thighs trembling violently, his other hand locking around your hip to hold you in place.
you cried in rafe’s chest, your legs trembled incessantly, but his hand held you still, making you take everything he gave you. keep it up until you're ruined—sweat slick, clit throbbing so hard it aches. you're begging, sobbing into his chest, promising anything if he'll just let you finish. "so damn wet, 's all over my pants" he groaned looking down, noticing all your moisture covering his thighs, not to mention his hands. "fuck, think you're ready to take me, uh?" you nod frantically, too far gone, too dumb on his fingers to speak.
he frees his cock from his sweats, thick and veined and leaking, and lines himself up. in one deep he pushes it inside. your head fell back, at the feeling of his cock stretching you open. "fuckin' tight” he growls, jaw tight as your walls squeeze him. “squeezing me like you never had a cock in you.”
he pushed himself quickly inside you, his tip repeatedly hitting your cervix, obscene sounds filled the room every time his cock pushed himself inside you.
he was rough and messy, his big hands tightened around your ass, pushing you down on his cock meeting his thrusts. rough groans came out of his lips. "look at you all dumb over my cock, lettin' me do all the work" he mocked you, letting his hand hit the soft skin of your ass with force, making you cry out. your hands were still on his shoulders, letting him use your abused pussy as he wanted, too fucked even to talk.
you bit your lip, feeling your climax approaching, the feeling that has been denied to you so many times crept back into your body. his cock moved expertly inside you, hitting every single spot that made you tremble, his own cock twitched inside you. "rafe—please, please... I'm gonna c—" you gasp, desperate.
his hand clamps down on your hip, voice a snarl against your ear. “now. cum on me, right fucking now. or i’ll drag it out again.”
your whole body jerks at his command, the sharp edge of it cutting through the fog of overstimulation. his cock is buried so deep you swear you can feel him in your ribs, his grip bruising your hips as he holds you still, grinding you down on him until there’s no escape.
you choke out a cry, the pleasure so sharp it’s painful, the orgasm ripping out of you hard and messy. your thighs seize around him, nails clawing at his shoulders as your vision blurs. the release tears through you like a storm, wetness spilling down over his cock, mixing with his groans.
“that’s it, baby. cum all over me. make a fucking mess.”
but he doesn’t stop. even as you shake in his lap, clenching helplessly around him, he’s still fucking up into you, each thrust makes your overstimulated body jolt, your cries breaking into sobs as you try to push at his chest.
“nuh-uh. you don’t get to tap out yet. i decide when you’re done.”
you’re cockdrunk, ruined, your voice catching on broken pleas as he forces you into another orgasm, then another, dragging them out of you until your body is limp against him, every nerve buzzing. he cups your face, thumb brushing your swollen lips, smirking at the wreck he’s made of you.
“that’s my girl. all mine. you’ll remember who owns this cunt every time you try to walk tomorrow.”
Oooh what about a Dark!Daddy!Clark? Maybe he likes a cute little intern at the Daily Planet and he obsesses and manipulates her into ddlg-esk relationship and she’s none the wiser??
If I’m not making sense, ignore me, pookie. I’m glad you’re back!!!!
𝚎𝚡𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 | 𝐜.𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐭
pairing: Dark!Clark Kent x Reader
synopsis: You're a nervous intern at the Daily Planet, struggling to keep it together. Clark Kent watches quietly until his protection becomes possession.
warnings: +18, daddy/caretaker dynamic, obsession, infantilization, emotional manipulation, dubcon, shy reader with low self-esteem, age gap, possession, disturbing dynamics, minimal editing, proceed with caution.
word count: 2.3k (one-shot)
It starts small. So subtle that Clark hardly knows he’s doing it in the first place. You’re just so scattered. Overwhelmed.
He’s there at the elevator whenever you scramble out of it, carrying all your belongings and two drink carriers full of hot coffee. You rush out a few nervous thank-yous, and your lips part in shock when he grabs the drinks and your heavy workbag too.
Despite your job description, he doesn’t like to see you lifting a finger.
When he’s not working, he watches you from across the bullpen while you sit at your cluttered desk. You’re always in some shade of pastel, a knit cardigan, curly hair adorned with colorful hairpins or bows. Your socks always reach up to your shins, and on the days when you’re the most tired, you don’t notice that they aren’t matching.
He dislikes that Perry expects you to fetch coffee for the entire staff, and he hates it even more when you bring some sad excuse for a lunch in your strawberry-patterned lunchbox. Almost everyone leaves for lunch. You, a struggling student, always turn Jimmy down when he invites you. You don’t have the money, Clark assumes, so he joins you in the breakroom a few times a week.
When you whip out the same peanut butter sandwich and apple that you always bring, Clark sees the way your face falls.
“You okay, sweetheart?” he asks, and your heart quickens.
“Just tired.” You nod, then nervously tap at the table.
“Here,” he offers you half of his favorite sub sandwich he orders at the deli on the next block. “I’m not going to eat all of it.”
Your lips part to protest as he lays it out in front of you. “Clark, you don’t—”
“You look hungry,” he adds. “Did you eat breakfast?”
“Yes,” you answer quietly. His blue eyes are focused on you. Hard. Expecting. “…No.”
You find that the truth slips through your lips before he has a chance to question you further. “Y/N.”
“I had coffee,” you say next. “I have to get up at 4:30 if I want to catch the earliest train into the city, and sometimes I forget.”
Clark nods, understanding, although his mind is already working toward a solution.
After that, he shares his lunch with you when he can. When you get to work, there is always breakfast waiting for you. A breakfast sandwich from the deli or a Tupperware with homemade pancakes. It doesn’t take you long to put the dots together. When you thank him, he never answers directly.
“You didn’t have to.”
“I wanted to.”
“But—”
“You have to eat breakfast.”
“But you don’t—”
“And lunch. And dinner. I don’t want to find out you’re still skipping meals.”
Your lips press into a thin line then. It’s the first time he’s seen you frustrated. Embarrassed, even. Your brows furrow, and you turn in your pink ballet flats and walk away from his desk.
The thought crosses his mind that he should back off then. Give you your space. And he tries. Really tries. But you are so needy. So much more needy than he even realized.
He follows you home. Your tiny studio apartment that you’ve made into a home, but that doesn’t make it any safer or less cheaply built. He checks on you most nights, makes sure you’re tucked into bed, although you stay up way too late working on assignments for Perry.
The night he hears you crying behind the bathroom door at work, he nearly loses control. It takes everything in him not to storm into Perry’s office and toss him off the roof of the Planet.
He doesn’t, of course.
He waits until everyone clears from the office. You emerge from the bathroom as the sunset illuminates the room in shades of red. You clutch your heart, frightened, when you find him waiting for you. You wipe under your eyes quickly, but there’s no hiding from Clark.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Please, Clark.”
“Tell me what’s wrong, sweetheart. I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me.”
Clark can feel how fast your heart is beating. He closes the distance between the two of you, one hand finding the small of your back and the other cradling your neck. Your lips tremble and your sweater sleeves pull down over your fists.
“Clark—” you hiccup, and the tears start to fall again. “I just… I-I—”
He thinks of how badly he wants you not to call him Clark in this moment. He’s been telling himself not to rush this. It will take time. “You’re okay,” he says, deep and soothing. “You’re being so brave.”
You blink up at him through the tears. “He… h-he ripped into my article. The final one. For my class. He’s hated every draft I sent him and it’s due at midnight,” your voice cracks, high and thin. “I think he’s gonna fail me. On my review. I-I worked so hard to get this internship, Clark.”
Clark’s jaw tightens. “I know you did, sweetheart,” he says, stroking your cheek with his thumb.
“It doesn’t matter,” you shake your head. “I’m not a good writer. I-I’d be a t-terrible journalist.”
Clark’s eyes darken as he looks down at you. He sees you crawling inside yourself. Retreating. He doesn’t think as he lifts you off your feet, wrapping strong arms around your torso, before he carries you toward his desk.
Your body tenses, though you don’t protest. Your eyes only widen, and you go quiet. You have no sense of fight or flight. He understands that your first instinct will always be to freeze. His entire purpose in life is to protect people like you.
“Wh-what are you doing?” Clark takes a seat at the desk before he settles you into his lap. You wiggle, but he holds you tightly. It feels like pushing at a steel door. You hadn’t realized he’d feel so… heavy.
He rolls his chair closer to the desk, effectively trapping you in, and he opens his laptop, your back pressed against his chest. In your ear, you hear him say, “I’ll help you rewrite the article.”
“What—”
“I know what Perry is looking for. I can help you clean it up.”
“I’ll miss my train.”
Clark pauses for a moment. He clicks his teeth. “I’ll take you home.”
“Oh…” What choice do you have? “Okay.”
His voice lowers, soft but firm. “Relax.”
“I’m trying,” you sniffle.
“Good girl,” he whispers.
Clark is a man of his word. He helps you write the ten thousand words in a way that Perry would approve of. He helps you with the pacing, the tone, the flow. It never crosses his mind that you’re a bad writer. Just inexperienced. He remembers being exactly where you are.
When Clark finally feels your mood lift and sees the tired smile on your lips, he isn’t willing to let you go just yet.
You were hesitant when he opened the passenger side door of a dark sedan that doesn’t match his reporter salary. You were even more hesitant standing on the threshold of his high-rise apartment. You thought he would take you to the subway station, only for him to insist that you stay in his spare room.
Noticing your hesitation, he grabs your hand and leads you forward. The door closes with a finality you weren’t quite prepared for. You turn and feel your feet trying to carry you back toward the door. Clark squeezes your hand, gentle but firm. When he notices your body start to freeze up again, he sighs, low and almost fond, before taking matters into his own hands. Literally. You let out a startled breath as he sweeps you off your feet like a bride.
He isn’t frustrated with you. He directs you like a child about to wander into the wrong room, or a pet that doesn’t know any better.
“Let’s get you out of these work clothes, okay?” he asks rhetorically, carrying you deeper into the apartment. “And then you can have a warm bath and something soft to sleep in.”
“I don’t have any other clothes, Clark.”
“Don’t worry, baby.”
Your resistance matters little to him. You expect a guest room that’s impersonal. Bare bones. Instead, you’re met with a room with cream-white walls, a cozy bed with a white, fluffy comforter, and a plush, oversized teddy bear in the corner.
“I—” You clear your throat. “Is this a kid’s room?”
“No,” he answers as he sets you onto your feet. “I just wanted it to be… comforting.”
Clark’s lips part to explain further, but out of the corner of your eye, you spot a tall bookshelf. “You have The Secret Garden and A Little Princess,” you say. Clark watches how your eyes light up and how you pad over the soft carpet. “I’ve never seen these editions before. They are so pretty. Look at these pink flowers.”
His hulking figure shadows you as he reaches past, taking The Secret Garden off the shelf for you.
“I don’t know,” you say instead of taking it, but he grabs your hand, lifts it, and places the book in your palm. “You like these books?”
“I know you like them,” he answers casually, and your mind skips over the absurdity of the situation because next you notice a line of figurines that look like fairies on the shelf below them.
“Look around and get comfortable, sweetheart,” he says. “I’ll start your bath.”
You gasp softly as you lean down, studying a woodland fairy with so many delicate, adorable details.
Every detail in the room is perfect. There are even fairy lights hanging near the windows. Just like the ones you have hanging in your apartment. And on the nightstand?
A Hello Kitty nightlight.
The exact one from your Amazon cart. The one you’d bookmarked and rebookmarked, hovered over for months, but never bought.
“You ready?” Clark asks, snapping you from your daze. Your lips part to answer, only to realize his question is, once again, rhetorical. With a hand on your lower back, he guides you toward the attached bathroom.
The lights are dimmed to a golden hue, and the tub is filled with bubbles. A soft towel sits on the bathroom counter, and a pair of neatly folded pajamas rests right next to it. You glance at the older, taller man and realize he’s removed his glasses. You almost do a double-take, your eyes focusing on his features, and he’s almost unrecognizable.
You’re not sure if it’s the lack of sleep or the fact that this all feels like a fever dream, but you can’t help but let this happen to you.
“You’ve been working so hard, haven’t you?” It doesn’t help that his voice is deep and melodic. You look down at his fingers as he gently undoes each button of your cardigan. “Let me do this for you. Let Daddy take care of you.”
Daddy.
The word touches you somewhere deep. An embarrassing place.
“I don’t need you to,” you say, although you aren’t convincing. And now he’s undoing the buttons of your khaki skirt.
“Let me,” he says again, softer this time, like he’s reassuring you.
Isn’t that what you’re doing? Shaking like a leaf and letting him get you naked? It’s done with such care. His touch doesn’t wander in the slightest. It’s almost clinical. He rolls up the sleeves of his dress shirt, and the glimpse of his arms—thick and muscled—makes your eyes widen. How had you missed this before? You’ve never felt intimidated by Clark until now. Never felt how much power radiated from him.
“I-I shouldn’t have come,” you stutter out, mostly to yourself. “I’m imposing,” you add next, politely.
He gives you a knowing look. “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. I wouldn’t have taken no for an answer.”
It’s good to know. It’s reassuring. It isn’t completely your fault that this is happening. You cover yourself with your hands when he’s fully undressed you.
He guides you closer to the clawfoot tub and keeps you steady as you step into the warm water. His invasion of your personal space doesn’t stop there. You’re not sure if he understands the concept anymore. His hands are already reaching for the soap. He kneels beside the bath and continues to look at you like you’re the most fragile thing he’s ever seen. You look down then. You don’t meet his eyes as he runs a washcloth over every inch of your skin.
He notices.
“I know you don’t understand it yet,” Clark says. “But you will. You don’t have to do anything but let me take care of you.”
You focus on the warmth. The comfort in his voice. You realize you have to or else your heart will jump out of your chest.
“Relax.” He says that word again. Your eyes focus on him again as his fingers sink between your legs. A large hand against a small area. His palm presses against your lower belly. He spreads your folds, and everything in your body tenses.
Determined, focused blue eyes stare back at you. “Clark—” you rush out, and your small hands wrap around his arm. His arm doesn’t move as you push. It doesn’t even tremble beneath your grasp. “Clark, please. P-Please—oh my—”
“I’m not trying to scare you,” he says. “But I will be firm with you. You need that, don’t you?”
Your eyes flutter as your body trembles.
His movements are so precise. Large circles, and then small, concentrated ones. Your chest heaves as your head tilts back. It’s almost as clinical as when he was undressing you. It’s something he has to do. He’s treating the act like a mission that needs to be accomplished. A step in a nightly routine.
Now you’re dizzy. The act doesn’t take longer than two minutes. He applies the exact right pressure. It’s almost painful how your orgasm rips through your body. It's embarrassing how quickly it happens. “That’s it,” you hear him say. You gasp for air in between your moans. Now you’re holding onto him instead of futilely pushing at him. “Good girl, sweetheart. You needed that, didn’t you?”
He takes your silence and shaking body as a sufficient answer.
“Let’s get you dressed and tucked in, sweetheart. Big day for us tomorrow.”
ooo okay so is there anything/anyone that you believe to be hssh!reader coded? like anything that reminds you of her?
i might have already said this before but i think maddy from euphoria is a lot like hssh!reader in the way that they handle their relationships. aesthetically i think reader is very blythe doll coded
does rafe hold himself to the same standard that he holds reader to? we’ve seen him get up and rowdy abt how reader acts and what she does but does he have that same standard for himself in their relationship? if he doesn’t then i could see that being an argument between them where Rafes being a hypocrite for getting mad reader for something he also does
well rafe is borderline misogynistic and believes she shouldn’t even be going to school or working so obviously he has a lot of double standards. he does want to be a “better” man for reader which is why he’s trying to get sober and why he wants to take over his dad’s business(canonically). there’s plenty of things rafe does that he would freak out about if reader did it, such as going to the cut alone. reader can argue about it all she wants, but rafe doesn’t care because he’s the one with the power and she’s supposed to listen to him.
rafe’s dream is kinda the nuclear family model with a perfect trophy wife that does whatever he tells her to do. he wouldn’t ever cheat on her, though.
would hssh!rafe be into the whole tattooing your partner’s name thing? idk if he’d do reader’s name on himself or have his name on reader but esp with the thing of him having reader wear a necklace with his name i’m sure he’s into the “branding” or loyalty aspect to it.
i don’t think rafe would be into tattoos on reader at all just because he doesn’t want her skin to be “tainted.” being from north carolina myself, rich people/southerners aren’t really into the tattoos/piercing thing and they’re really judgy about it lol. he also knows she would never do that so
rafe likes the act of putting his name around her neck because it’s almost as if he’s collaring her. he has to put it on her or she has to put it on herself, but either way it’s her submitting herself to him in a way and letting him “own” her.
i finally go back to school in august and will actually have free time and the will to write again THANK GOD i’m actually so sorry for being gone forever i just have so much going on and i’ve been really stressed but i will be a good author and try to give consistent updates
sometimes writing isn’t about talent. sometimes it’s about sitting in your chair and suffering for 45 minutes until a single sentence crawls out of your skull
SYNOPSIS: once you got all that you wanted, nothing was ever the same.
WARNINGS: angst, betrayal of trust
your head felt heavy with pain, frustration, and dread. a slurry of emotions took home within the folds of your minds and there were so many thoughts that you couldn’t pick a single one to focus on. there were so many sounds in a silent room with a single occupant, all echoing against the walls of your skull. your body was on fire but your blood was freezing as it ran through your veins, each cell like a needle of ice as it traveled through your heart.
it felt as if you just might combust.
what you wanted to do the most was scream, but your mouth was glued shut, lips tied up tightly and jaw clenched with a force so strong that your teeth could shatter.
rafe cameron had made a fool out of you. he was a narcissist and a thief that let nothing stand in the way of what he wanted. his greed knew now bounds and it disgusted you. it wasn’t fair that he got everything he wanted and you had to work yourself to the bone just to get a quarter of what he has.
the freedmen's church sat empty aside from you and the woodland creatures that used it for shelter. it smelt of mildew and old wood, and the eerie feeling of someone watching you was driving you slowly insane. your eyes flew up to the beams holding the roof in place, the hiding spot of the golden cross left just as bare as the pews surrounding you.
the building was your source of peace and punishment for your failures.
the memories of that day plague you endlessly. the sound of pope yelling at the pogues out of frustration, them chasing after him as you remained in the same spot long after. the pain you and pope felt was different from whatever the rest of them did. for them it was an inconvenience, but for you and your brother it was a gut-wrenching, soul-crushing feeling of defeat. a torment that was generational. for yourself, there was an additional layer of betrayal.
the man you once cared for deeply had taken advantage of you.
it was all you could think of for months. your foolishness had not only hurt you, but the people that you loved the most. you should’ve never trusted rafe to do right by anyone, to have decency. you should have listened to jj when he told you to stay away from him, but you were stubborn. if you wanted to do something, you were going to do it. maybe that was your fatal flaw.
you came to the church a lot after the cross was stolen. the company of those residing in spirit was more comforting than those of the living, even if they left you feeling unsettled. you felt like you deserved it for disappointing them; your ancestors, your friends, your family.
it felt as if they all stood in the pulpit staring down at you in the pews, head hung in shame and chest heavy with guilt.
the feeling became stronger when the familiar sound of an engine grumbled outside the worn walls of the church, disgruntled spirits less than pleased with the sudden presence of the trespasser.
the sound of his footsteps didn’t move you, nor did the heat of his ocean blue eyes boring into your skin from behind. both of you remain silent for a long time, the air tense and filled with unspoken grievances.
“why are you here?” rafe’s familiar voice broke the silence between you, the familiarity of the sound bringing no warmth to you as it once did.
“why are you here?” you repeated his question sharply, irritation dripping from your pores. “don’t you think you’ve desecrated this place enough?”
your throat vibrated in timing with each word that rolled off of your tongue. you made no effort to face the man behind you; he came into your territory without invitation, if he wanted to see your face, he could do it himself.
he gave no reply for a long moment, silence falling between you once again. his feet sounded against the ground as he approached with caution, hesitation heard clearly in each step closer to your seated frame in the front pew.
you didn't look up when he took the space in front of you, eyes still focused on the dusty, rotting floorboards.
“baby–”
“don’t.” your voice sliced through the cool air to cut rafe short. “don’t you ever fucking call me that, rafe cameron.” the sound of the nickname lit a fire in you–an angry, dancing flame of reds and yellows that made your face hot with emotion. “i should have listened to everyone when they told me to stay away from you.”
finally you lift your gaze to meet his own. his eyes, once a beautiful ocean blue, were a dull shade of overcast skies to you. his beauty brought you no butterflies, not anymore. your soft spot for his bright smile and charming face had been eaten away by the moths that killed every monarch in your heart. instead you felt sick, saliva gathering beneath your tongue as the sight of him made the guilt you felt amplify tenfold.
you swallowed down the liquid, but the sick feeling never went away
“i didn’t mean for everything to turn out like this, y/n…i really didn’t.” his voice was coated in sincerity, but you’d do well to never believe a word that came out of his mouth again. “i just…it–” the blonde ran a hand over his head as he struggled to find his words. “i had to do what i had to do for my family, okay? i would never do something to hurt you–not on purpose.”
“well, you did hurt me, rafe.”
“and i understand that.” he nodded at you. “i hurt you, and you probably think i’m a piece of shit. but–just think of being in my position for a minute; wouldn’t you do the same thing? sometimes we have to make hard decisions, so don’t think that i wanted to do that, y/n…i had to. my family needed the cross.”
if you had the energy, you'd laugh in his face. rafe’s words would be comical had this been a badly written sitcom. you mustered up a hearty scoff instead, the dramatic sound echoing off the walls of the church as you stared up at him is disbelief.
“you didn’t need the cross, rafe. ward is a greedy bastard and you're doing his bidding because you want his approval.” you didn’t hold back your disgust with the man standing before you, or your disdain for his father. “do you know why it was hidden in here? because denmark tanny knew that the people needed it. people that were stolen from their homes and didnt have a single thing to their names. my people, rafe–that’s why he hid it in a fucking freedman’s church.”
“y/n–”
“you live in that man’s house–you steal his gold, you steal his cross, and you desecrate the grave of his wife. a grave that he was killed for digging.” tears were beginning to build up in your eyes from the rage and feelings of betrayal consumed you. “you use me as a pawn…you come into this church and disturb the souls that lived lifetimes without freedom because of people like you, so fueled by your desire for power that you’ll stop at nothing to get it…or keep it.”
rafe stared at your wordlessly, mouth opening and closing like a fish as he scraped his mind for a response.
standing from your seat, you shoved him out of the way as you made your way to the back of the building. if he stumbled you didn’t notice, eyes trained on the exit on the other side of the room. everything you’d been holding back for months was starting to come to the surface after just a few minutes in his presence.
you had to get away from him or your heart just might explode and paint the wooden panels lining the walls a dark shade of red.
you face him once more as you reach the doorway of the church, a thought reaching your mind through the thick clouds of emotions that forever surrounded it. a breeze caused a chill to run down your spine and your jacket covered arms to fill with goosebumps.
the tall man stood in the same place you left him, stupefied and disgustingly handsome. it was the first time you’d ever seen him rendered speechless. you didn’t need to add insult to injury, but he didn’t deserve the kindness of your silence.
he should live with everything he’s ever done haunting him just as it haunts you.
“to tell you the truth, i wish we never…” shaking your head, you allow him to infer rather than finishing your sentence. the embarrassment from your stupid decisions was too strong for you to say it out loud. it only managed to irritate you further–he should feel shame for his actions, not you. “you really are the worst, rafe cameron. i hope you know that.”
how would reader react if anyone told her to her face that she deserves better than rafe? we know that fear isn’t the only thing keeping her from being with him although it does play a part ( based on the last chapter) i remember this clip from euphoria where maddy was getting told to her face about nate and she got feisty about it, do you think reader world react the same?
hssh reader is very aware of her situation and wouldn’t disagree if someone told her that she deserves better to be completely honest.
rafe is her first ever relationship, she doesn’t know anything other than him. she loves and fears rafe, not only what he’ll do to her but also what he’ll do to himself if she ever left him. reader is aware that rafe isn’t stable and she would feel an immense amount of guilt leaving him—she thinks that he needs her and that he’ll get worse without her.
they’re a lot like nate and maddie relationship-wise, but really as individuals. reader is a lot more docile and self-aware of her situation than maddie was, so she wouldn’t lash out about rafe being talked about because she knows they’re probably right.
SYNOPSIS: i hate you turns into i love you in the bedroom.
WARNINGS: explicit sexual content, breeding(kinda), enemies-to-enemies, friends-with-benefits(they're far from friends)
word count: 2.3k+
masterlist
“i need you stay quiet.” rafe whispered breathily into your ear. “we aren’t–fuck…we aren’t alone, remember?”
you could barely process his words, whining in response as he held you still against his lap. all you could focus on was the feeling of his cock so deep inside you that it was almost uncomfortable; the sleeping cameron family spread throughout the house was a second thought.
“y/n…” he hissed. lifting your head from its hiding place in his shoulder, you meet rafe’s eyes with an incredulous look on your own face. how quiet did he expect you to be when he had you like this?
“rafe, shut up.” the words were gritted out from between your tightly clenched teeth. you released a harsh breath when you felt him move beneath you, the minor readjustment sending him deeper than he was just a moment before. “i’m trying. you’re the one that called me over here without telling me your family was home.”
“sorry.” was all he said. it was a disingenuous apology and you rolled your eyes in mild irritation. “are you gonna be quiet so i can move?”
he wasted no time the moment he saw you nod your head, the hands gripping your waist working to help move you up and down his shaft. you hated riding–it was tiring and you lacked the stamina to last in the position for more than a few minutes at the pace he liked–, but it was the only way to keep the bed frame beneath you from squeaking noisily and prevent the headboard from tapping against the wall.
rafe was big–almost too big. his dick would go in no more than two-thirds of the length every time you came back down. if he had it his way, you would take the whole thing, but he was smart enough to not risk it with his sisters just down the hall. if you could barely contain yourself now, you would stand no chance then.
your heavy head fell back down to rest on rafe’s shoulder, a hand coming up to cover your mouth the moment you felt a moan try to crawl off your tongue. the slow, deep strokes made it nearly impossible to stay completely quiet. it annoyed rafe, made clear by the way he shushed you again, but you found it hard to care.
“would you rather suck my dick since you can’t shut the fuck up?” rafe didn’t pause his movements as he asked the question, the bulbous head scraping against your walls leaving you panting. you shook your head rapidly and he chuckled, one hand leaving your hip to tangle itself into your hair. pulling head away from his neck by the handful of braids, he forced you face him as he rocked you back and forth over his lap.
you didn’t think you could get any wetter, thighs sticky with the mixture of both of your arousals, but you could feel yourself gushing all over him as he held his dark gaze on you. rafe’s eyes were always something you couldn’t get enough of, his heated stare leaving you reeling anytime it was focused on you.
it was pure entertainment for him to watch you try and maintain your silence, a small grin playing at his lips as he watched your eyebrows pinch together in concentration. you wanted to be annoyed with him, and you probably would be once you were finished, but right now? all you could do was tremble in his lap as you clenched around him.
as reward for your efforts–or punishment, his intentions were unclear to you–, rafe sped up the pace of his thrusts. you had lost all control of the situation now, rafe shifting the two of you down for a better angle; an angle that allowed him to fit fully inside of you.
you could cry, from the pleasure or the deliciously painful feeling of the blonde’s dick knocking against your cervix. there was no was no way rafe actually cared about waking his siblings up, if he did then he wouldn’t be fucking you like he wanted the neighbors to hear.
rafe forced you to lean down over him, bare chest smushed against his as he fucked up into you. his feet were planted firmly into the mattress, arms wrapped around your body to keep you close to him while his thick cock completely destroyed any intention you had of keeping your presence in the house unknown.
“r-rafe…shit! too much!” you whispered harshly into his ear. you could hardly make out the words over the sound of skin against skin. “slow down.”
“okay.” he said, nodding his head.
he didn’t–he continued with the tortuous pace, bringing you close to tears. you tried to push away from him but his grip on you was firm, the flexing of his biceps around you a presentation of the strength he held over you. all you could do is lay there and take it, trying your best to not disturb the rest of the house.
“rafe!” you tried scolding him but it sounded more like a whine than anything else. it was hard to be mad when you could feel yourself becoming soaked from his manhandling.
“i’m sorry baby…” he wasn’t, you simply couldn’t believe it. “jus’ let me fuck you right, okay? you can take it, you’ve done it before.”
you couldn’t, but that didn’t matter to rafe. when you started the whole ordeal of sneaking around with each other, he made it his mission to train you into fitting all of him. he didn’t like to hold back; he lacked the patience to do such a thing. he like to hear you whine and look into your teary eyes while you struggled to take him whole. it made him feel superior to know that nobody had ever fucked you open like him.
“yeah, you always take it so good…” each word ended with a grunt as he drilled into your poor cunt, the slick arousal leaking out of you splashing against your thighs from the impact. “saying it’s too much but this pussy is just begging for more…you lying to me?”
there was no possible way for you to answer, not when you could feel each thought falling out of your head with every thrust. you babbled something out in response, though it was nothing comprehensible.
“you love getting stretched out by this dick, huh?” you don’t think he was actually asking, but you nodded your head instinctively anyways. “fuckin’ you so deep you can’t think about anything else…can’t run from it, just gotta take it.”
the pressure building in your abdomen was becoming unbearable, walls clamping down incessantly around the rich boy’s shaft as he explored you with its length. your whining got louder as you felt the oncoming of your release, hands trapped and unable to grab onto anything to ground yourself even a little.
rafe could feel the vice grip around him, a hiss leaving his lips as he struggled to move freely within you. you could tell he was close too, even through your foggy mind you could feel his thrusts becoming sloppier. still, he was unrelenting as he plowed into you.
“you close angel? you gonna cum for me?” you nodded again. “sit up, i wanna see your face.”
when you didn’t move, rafe did it for you. he lifted his back up off the bed and took you with him, flipping you two around to switch positions. he had tunnel vision as you became lost in the pleasure he was giving. your hair was spread out on the pillow, brows strung together tightly, and mouth wide open as you tried to catch the breath he just couldn’t stop stealing from you.
“so pretty when i’m fucking you. so, so pretty.” he said as he stared down at you. “way prettier than when you’re being a bitch.”
you reached up and pushed at his muscular chest weakly, the slick comment reaching through your hazy mind just enough to show your mild irritation, but not enough to actually say anything in response. he chuckled at your attempt and grabbed your hand. the blonde leaned down, so close to your face that you could feel his lips brushing against yours.
“i like you better when you can’t say shit but how good i’m fucking you.”
“don’t piss me off rafe…and don’t kiss me.” you managed to grit out, making rafe smile against your lips before he pulled away from them. he grabbed your legs from around his waist and spread them wide, pushing them up and towards the mattress. a pornographic moan escaped your throat as he dug deeper. “shit! what is wrong with you?”
you were absolutely going to kill him when you got the chance, but that was the last thing on your mind as you felt the slow building orgasm finally fall off the edge. it came with no warning, rafe’s words both a distraction to your mind and the final push your body needed to reach its peak.
the vice grip around rafe’s length made him curse quietly, replacing his punishing strokes with slow, deep ones as he tried to hold himself off from finishing himself. he reached down to rub circles on your swollen clit to make up for his slowed pace. you ground down against his hand as he played with the sensitive bud and reached to grab his forearm, unsure of if you were trying to stop him or pull himself closer.
“i don’t think i’m pissing you off, am i?” he lifted your thighs back up from the mattress and pulled you closer to him before throwing them over his shoulders. his hands were tight around your waist as he brought you down to meet every snap of his hips. “nah, i think you love me right now.”
“can you just cum already? fuck!” you slapped a hand over your mouth after a particularly rough stroke from the man above you, though it was useless to try to stay quiet now. if anyone was awake then they definitely knew what you two were up to.
“c’mon, you know you love this shit.”
rafe’s hips became sloppier with their movements as he went on, stuttering as you squeezed around him over and over. his face was tight with concentration as he chased his own release.
all you could do was take it; whining pathetically as his hips rolled into yours, the blonde using your body as a fleshlight. you squeaked in surprise when you felt him press down on your stomach without warning, warm palm spread out over the sweat covered flesh.
“you feel that? that’s me all in your fucking stomach, y/n.” rafe said as he applied more pressure to the area covered by his large hand. you could feel the head of his cock knocking against the entrance of your impenetrable womb like it was trying to break in.
“rafe, please…” your voice was weak and you didn’t really know what you were pleading for, but you could feel yourself about to cum again. your body was on fire and rafe was the fuel keeping it aflame.
“i’m gonna fill you up so good…put a baby in you…” you clenched at the words involuntarily and it made him smirk darkly at you, teeth glinting in the moonlight peeking through the window. “gonna have you fucking the cum back inside when you go home, wishing it was me.”
the image he implanted into your mind made the chain snap, your second orgasm washing over you just minutes after your first one. the feeling of your gummy walls sent rafe over the edge as well, any rhythm he had left gone as he frantically fucked into you with his twitching cock.
you felt his warm release spill deep inside of you and you never felt more glad to be on birth control in your life. especially when he was fucking it into you like he wanted to actually get you pregnant.
he pulled away slowly and you whimpered at the uncomfortable feeling of his tip slipping out of your entrance. sitting up on your elbows, you glanced down at rafe’s dick with curious eyes. it was covered in the combined juices produced by the two of you. it was still semi-hard and you swear it twitched when rafe felt your eyes on it.
“look at that…look at the mess you made.” rafe wasn’t talking about the one left behind on his length, rather the one leaking from your abused cunt.
he reached towards it and collected the liquids dripping out of you before shoving them back inside. you grabbed his wrist with a swiftness but he didn’t pull away, fingers continuing to pump his cum back where he released it originally.
“can’t waste it, baby. jus’ let me put it back for you.” rafe’s eyes flicked up to your tearful ones from his digits toying with your oversensitive hole. he leaned in close and placed a kiss beneath your ear, smiling at the low whines leaving your throat. “gotta make sure it all stays in, or else i gotta do it again.”
you felt his fingers slip out of you after a few torturous minutes, the three of them coming together to deliver a couple of soft smacks to your clit before pulling away completely. rafe pulled away from you as well to sit back on his haunches.
his gaze washed over your shivering frame, admiring his handiwork. he was hard again; the way his eyes blue eyes remained dark and glazed over as he watched you like a predator in the wild.
"i hate you." your voice was crackly and broken as you spoke but that didn't stop you.
rafe nodded at you silently as he took hold of your legs again. he pulled you closer, allowing you to feel his hardness against your plush thigh. lining himself up with your entrance, he slid the head back in teasingly and pulled back out, repeating the action until he felt you shift towards him.
"right..." he said as he shook his head in disbelief. you gasped quietly as he pushed himself back in fully, head landing on the mattress beneath you due to your elbows giving out. "but no one else can do this for you."
SYNOPIS: don't try to hide it, you deserve a proper touch
WARNINGS: explicit sexual content, mean!rafe (he's nice for like a second), degradation, hand-job (f receiving), dacryphillia (reader is a crybaby and rafe likes it), slightly dub!con
word count: 3k+
your back was pressed tightly against his chest, his warm hand pressed just as firmly against your mouth as a means to silence your barely contained whimpers. you were utterly trapped, legs held open by the strong man’s as he forced you to take all that you could handle and more.
it was nearly impossible to keep still, the mind-numbing feeling of overstimulation causing you to squirm and twitch in his lap involuntarily. the soft sheets beneath you were soaked in sweat and the essence of your pleasure, the scent overwhelming you as it filled the air around you.
his breath was hot and heavy against your neck as he whispered the most degrading things you’ve ever heard into your ear. it only made you wetter, the sounds of your arousal amplified as his thick, long fingers drilled into your aching sex. you could hardly find it in you to feel embarrassed by the loud squelching, mind occupied with trying to keep quiet as the blonde destroyed your resolve minute by minute.
“god, y/n…you’re so fucking disgusting” rafe’s voice was low in your ear, the darkness of the sound sending a wave of warm tingles to the pit of your stomach. “i never expected this from you.”
you whine beneath his hand as he pulls his fingers out of you, hips chasing the digits with a desperation that you could have never imagined yourself feeling before this moment. rafe chuckled at your attempt to keep him in but doesn’t do what you want, instead using the wetness he collected from your insides to rub soft circles into your clit.
you could scream from the frustration you felt if rafe’s palm didn’t have your lips trapped beneath it.
“walking around here acting like you’re so sweet, so smart. stop moving so fucking much.” you screwed your eyes shut at the sharp sting you felt against your swollen clit, the sudden pain making you release a muffled cry. “i thought you were shy and quiet, y/n? what happened to that?”
your legs tried their hardest to close but rafe’s longer one’s kept them locked in place and unable to stop the brain-melting ministrations.
“you were too shy to talk to me, huh? is that it?” rafe interrogated you but you weren’t sure if he really wanted an answer, especially when he already knew. “you get all dolled up and put on those pretty little skirts just for me, just to get my attention. did you think i wouldn’t notice? the way you bend over in front of me just so i can see the panties hiding this pretty pussy?”
well, he wasn’t wrong. you’d been hired to tutor rafe’s little sister, wheezie, which meant you came to the cameron’s residence quite often. you went to school with rafe and always had a crush on him. he was two grades above you so you never even thought of talking to the older, more popular guy.
it wasn’t until this summer that you actually tried to get even a fraction of his attention.
you’d just graduated in the spring, and you spent the entire summer before college working for ward cameron as his daughter’s tutor. your job was your main focus, but every opportunity you had to gain rafe’s attention, you took.
if rafe was in the kitchen while you and wheezie were taking a break, you’d seize the opportunity to grab yourself something to drink. you’d take a water bottle from the fridge and drink it right in front of him, using your clumsiness as an excuse when you would accidentally spill the water down your chin. you’d let out a squeak as the cold water dripped down your neck and onto your chest. the image of your breasts glistening in the sunlight from the moisture and your hard nipple poking through the thin top you wore would send rafe racing off from the kitchen, eyes nearly bulging from his head.
you would purposely not wear shorts beneath your skirts when you knew he would be home. clumsiness was once again to blame when you would drop your phone a few feet away from him, pretending to be completely oblivious of his presence as you bent over to retrieve the device. it was obvious he was staring, especially when you could hear him inhale sharply at the sight of the frilly, little lace underwear you picked out just for him.
despite all of this, you avoided any direct conversation with him for most of the time you were there. you weren’t sure how you were so bold to brush your ass up against his clothed dick as he helped you reach a glass from the top cabinet, but you knew you weren’t confident enough to strike up anything more than small talk.
you were shy, yes. you were also quiet. it was easier to tease than it was to speak, and it got the message across either way. If it didn’t then you wouldn’t be in rafe’s bedroom getting fucked dumb by his fingers.
you guessed the straw that broke the camel's back was the moment you "accidentally" flashed him while walking up the stairs to the guest bedroom. you claimed that you were going to take a nap while waiting for wheezie to get back from her friend's house. rose forgot to tell you that she was going to be out today and felt bad, offering the privacy of one of the extra bedrooms for the couple of that her step-daughter would be pre-occupied.
you only took the offer because you didn't see rafe downstairs. you assumed he wasn't home, leaving you feeling embarrassed and disappointed at his absence. you planned to take it to another level of teasing today, completely disregarding putting on panties before leaving the house.
rose was in the kitchen, sarah was in her room, and ward was in his office as you made your trek up the grand staircase. you weren't aware of any other presence in the manor until you reached the top of the stairs.
rafe's strong hands firmly grasped your arms the second you landed on even flooring. he wasted no time dragging you in the opposite direction of where you were originally walking, barely allowing you time to register who it was before shoving you into his bedroom and slamming the door shut.
"i've had enough of this shit, y/n." is what he said as he approached you like a predator, trapping you and leaving you completely at his mercy.
"rafe, what are you talking about?" you played dumb with him, totally aware of what he meant but stricken by fear. he was intimidating from afar, but being that close to him made your knees shaky and weak.
"you must be stupid if you think i don't know what you're doing." he was practically stalking towards you as he spoke, and you were unable to move. "you think i don't know what a desperate slut looks like?"
"what?" is the only word you could get out. you could feel you heart constricting and your stomach tingling warmly at the sound of his words.
"desperate for someone to plug your greedy, little pussy up with their big cock, huh? is that it?" he was barely two inches away from you now, knuckles lifting your chin up to force you to meet his eyes. they were full of darkness and lust, heat radiating of his shirtless body onto yours. "i wonder what it's like to fuck a smart girl into a brainless bitch?"
you already felt like a brainless bitch, the way you stood there floundering like an idiot as he eyed you dangerously. you had no underwear on to catch your arousal, the silky fluid beginning to leak onto the very tops of your thighs as you stood there frozen.
he tilted his head at you, lips quirked up in a devilish smile.
"if you needed a proper fuck, you could've just asked." he feigned a pout for a second before speaking again. "i don't think you deserve it, though...what do you think?"
he pulled away from you, hand lifting to his face as he pretended to be in deep thought. your eyes immediately went to the long, thick fingers he was using to rub across his bottom lip.
you gulped as his biceps flexed and the veins in his arm protruded. he heard you release a shaky breath and smiled darkly at you as he took notice of your heated gaze on his muscular arms.
"i guess i need to stretch you out first...don't need you crying all over my dick because you can't take it."
he was right, because here you were, crying from just two of his fingers stretching you open. it was nothing like touching yourself. his hands were bigger, stronger, faster. way more experienced than your own.
you were leaking from every hole, crying and drooling uncontrollably from being stuffed full of your crush's fingers. it was hard to stay quiet, even with rafe's hand pressed against you quivering lips. you weren't sure what you'd do if anyone in the house heard what was happening, but it was starting to get hard for you to care; especially after being denied your release for the entire time rafe had his fun with you.
“such a sweet girl making a mess all over my bed…” rafe tuts in feigned disappointment, abruptly removing his hand from your pussy completely. you didn’t get a chance to complain when he uncovered your mouth because it was immediately stuffed full with the sticky fingers that he was using to dig you out.
“clean it up.”
you hesitated for a moment before wrapping your tongue around the digits. you tried to go slow but rafe didn’t like that, free hand coming up to hold your jaw open to use it freely. he fucked your mouth with the same force he used on your pussy, throat clenching as he explored every crevice. he ignored every gag and whimper, the desperate tugs at his forearm and the tears running down your face unnoticed by him as he watched you throat his fingers messily.
drool soaked his hand as he played with your tongue, the fluid dripping both of his wrist and down your chin to ruin the shirt you wore. you could feel the saliva pooling in your bra, the liquid free-falling and trailing down the exposed tops of your breasts.
“what a nasty little bitch.” rafe said as he removed his fingers from the back of your throat. you sucked in a sharp breath, coughing as you blinked away the tears leaking from your eyes. “who would’ve thought? what’s that thing they always say–the shy ones are the freakiest?”
you could feel your body begging for a release after being played with for over an hour without one. his words were only adding fuel to the fire, leaking hole clenching around nothing as he called you names.
your silent pleads were heard by rafe, made clear by the way he greets your clit with the soaked hand he used to fuck your mouth. he showed no mercy as he rubbed brutal circles into the sensitive bundle of nerves. It was almost too much for you to handle.
“rafe, please…” your voice was broken and quiet despite the fact that you’ve barely spoken all day. it sounded weak but you didn’t care, way too far gone to care about anything else but having him back inside your fluttering walls.
you reached a shaky hand up to wrap around his wrist, the strong fingers wrapped around your neck leaving your mind in a frenzy. he smacked it away and dropped his hand from its place on your throat, instead using it to collect your wrists and hold them tightly in his grasp.
“rafe, please…” he mocks you as his soaked hand pulls away from your lower lips briefly to give them a harsh smack. you sucked in a sharp breath of air, well aware that his palm was no longer preventing you from screaming out for his whole family to hear. “shut the fuck up and take it. you wanted it, so i’m giving it to you.”
his thick fingers plunged back into you without warning and you yelped loudly. that didn’t stop him, rather he sped up to a brutal pace that made tears begin running down your face once again. the heel of his hand smacked against your clit with every movement and your hips ground down into the bed, unsure if you were trying to escape or pull him in deeper.
pants and whines filled the room in harmony with the wet sounds of skin on skin. your shame and control was slipping through your fingers with each thrust of his hand. rafe released your wrists after a particularly loud moan, the pornographic sound resulting in him slapping his hand over your mouth once again.
“shh shh…” rafe whispers against your ear softly. he doesn’t slow down despite his attempts to quiet you. “gotta stay quiet, baby. you don’t want everyone to hear, do you?”
you don’t answer, the question going in one ear and out the other as he angrily drilled your cunt. he was fucking you like he wanted the world to hear you; you were shaking like a leaf and he showed no signs of letting up. instead he went harder, something you didn’t think was possible. you were given no chance to quiet down, sobs breaking through his hand as you felt a pressure building in your core.
“i said shut the fuck up, y/n.” rafe pressed harder against your mouth in an effort to control the sounds but you couldn’t hold back your sobs. “are you crying? god, you’re so pathetic.”
the rope in your stomach had been stretched from end to end, ready to snap. you rolled your hips into rafe’s palm in an attempt to apply more pressure to your twitching clit. the blonde pressed his thumb into the nerve after taking notice of your desperate squirming and you threw your head back against his shoulder.
“what a fucking crybaby.” rafe chuckled menacingly, fully aware of the torturous pace of his digits. the repeated tightening of your walls did not go unnoticed by him. “you gonna cum? gonna make a mess all over my hand?”
you frantically nodded your head, the approaching orgasm only sped up by his dirty words. your hand to flew his forearm and sunk its nails into the skin. he didn’t flinch, instead laughing quietly at your quaking frame.
“then fucking do it.” he commanded. “let me feel this cunt drool all over my fingers, baby.”
that was all it took for you to break, hips lifting off the bed as you felt all the heat in your body travel to you core and leak out of you in a stream of pleasure. rafe continued to fuck into you, fingers scraping against your walls in a way that left your mouth open in a silent scream underneath his palm.
rafe hissed every time you clamped down involuntarily, bones crushed by the constricting movements of your insides.
"fuck, you're so tight...relax." his voice in your ear made you do anything but, hole tightening around his digits even more. you let yourself untense in his hold with great difficulty, the fingers that were struggling to fit inside due to your incessant clenching now pumping smoothly through your wetness.
"that's right...good girl, good job." rafe said softly. the sound alone would make you moan if you weren't already. "just let me fuck you open, baby..."
your body shook with sobs of pleasurable pain at the overstimulation, rafe still fucking you through your orgasm. you tried pushing him away but you were weak, the shove barely acknowledged by the blonde still playing with your twitching hole.
“rafe…” you whined his name after pulling his hand away from your mouth. “ ‘s too much…” your thighs weakly clamped around his hand between your legs but that didn’t stop him. he pressed a kiss to your forehead, the sweet gesture a complete switch from the borderline bullying he put you through just a few minutes prior.
“you got it, baby.” he said softly against your skin as he watched his fingers go in and out of your used cunt. “you can take it, it’s okay.”
the sweet words in combination with the slow, deep strokes against your sensitive walls had you reeling. you didn’t even know you were close again until you were coming undone again, a high pitched whine escaping your throat as you squeezed and gushed around your crush’s thick digits for a second time.
gulping dryly, you gathered yourself before untangling your legs from rafe’s. you threw the shaky limbs over the edge of the bed haphazardly before standing to your feet, yanking your skirt back down from where rafe had gathered it to your waist. you licked your chapped lips as you stood there awkwardly, eyes avoiding rafe’s completely as your mind raced with thoughts of the scene that just took place.
“what are you doing?” rafe asked from his place on the bed. he was resting his back against the headboard, legs spread wide enough for you to see the large bulge poking through his sweatshorts.
you could barely form an answer, throat dry and eyes occupied with ogling his shirtless torso flexing as he readjusted himself.
“um,’ you cleared your throat as you thought of something to say. you couldn’t, hand coming up to play with the ends of your hair as you welcomed the uncomfortable silence.
“you don’t think you're leaving, do you?” the blonde tilted his head at you, a small smirk playing on his lips as he watched you squirm. you were sure you looked a hot mess, dried tears and saliva running down your neck and chest. it only made you shift more.
“well,” you started. your mouth opened and closed a few times like a fish out of water. “I don’t–i don’t know…”
rafe stared at you menacingly and it left you feeling a bit frightened. it also made wetness begin to form between your legs once again, the warm, tingly feeling making another appearance. you as he reached down to rub himself through his shorts, completely mesmerized by the way the veins in his arms protruded against the skin.
"i said i'd give you a proper fuck. i meant that."
girl i need to know what or who that attempted suicidal warning is about!! ever since i noticed it i’ve been needing to know what’s that about and omg pls do scare me bc i am ready 🙊🙊🙊
i’ve even tried to predict it but still idk who that could be for 😭
do you think that rafe actually does try to do better or be better for reader?
it’s canon that rafe is clean from drugs in the later seasons so eventually he’ll get better at that, but as far as the abuse goes not really. even if it’s not physical, he knows that reader’s fear is keeping her with him. rafe and reader do love each other but she is also afraid for her life/what rafe will do and rafe takes advantage of that at every opportunity.
frankly he’s going to get worse the longer they’re together.
