i love you for sending this... but i don’t know what could happen other than Reader throwing him out. 😭 I mean, Rafe would use the usual ‘i got clean for you’ manipulation tactic, but at this point she is pretty much done with him.
Reader is a smart girl, just a bit too nice for her own good, but what Rafe did isn’t something she could forgive... so yeah, i don’t think i could write another part that is satisfactiory enough... and i know in some of my fics, he is truly a vile human being, but in ‘baby trap her’, i feel like he wouldn’t go THAT far to force himself on her physically, though emotionally he totally does.
SUMMARY: When Rafe finds out that you want to apply for a six-months long internship far from Outer Banks, he starts to plan the most heinous act just to keep you home.
WARNINGS: abusive relationship; manipulation; coercion; reproductive abuse; emotional abuse; drug addiction; dependency; penetrative sex (DUB-CON).
GIF CREDIT | DIVIDER
English is not my first language!
It started with small inconveniences. He forgot to buy condoms, sometimes lied about the last one being broken. Then he started to pressure you, convincing you that going raw was fine.
You weren’t ovulating so what was the harm, right?
That night the alarms went off in your head, warning you about Rafe and his suspicious behavior about how you wished to use contraception. You even went to your doctor after the incident and got a prescription for birth control.
To say he was mad when he found out was an understatement.
“Are you fucking crazy?” he snapped, fingers grasping the edge of the kitchen counter.
“What the hell, Rafe?”
“Do you even know what that that shit does to you?”
“Yeah, I know,” you muttered, eyebrows furrowed in surprise at his sudden outburst. You were used to his erratic mood swings, but this one felt different. He was weird about it and it scared you. Why did it matter if you were taking the pill or not? You thought he would be happy about fucking you anytime and anywhere he wanted without the dread of getting you pregnant on accident. “And I don’t care. It stops me from getting pregnant.”
“Yeah, because all that matters to you. To not get pregnant from me,” he stated, voice laced with frustration and something akin to disappointment. “Couldn’t even fucking bother to tell me.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing,” he growled, leaving you in the kitchen in the company of a colorful plate of fruit.
“What the fuck?” you whispered to yourself, taking a small bite from the crispy apple.
It was almost midnight when he came back with a bouquet of fresh roses and an apology you couldn’t decline.
“I’m really sorry,” he kissed you gently, the pads of his thumbs brushing over your lower lips. “I’m fucked without you, you know that…”
“I know,” you whispered. He was dependent on you. That was mostly why you put up with his shit. He got clean – more or less – for you. You couldn’t just leave him in the gutter like that. Even though deep down you knew that it was just his way to keep you around… but fuck, you couldn’t watch as he destroyed himself.
His movements were fervent as he took you back to your bedroom, the house free of your parents’ presence. They weren’t home for the week, having gone for a short trip in Europe.
He gently pushed you down on the mattress, the bed creaking under his weight as he towered over you. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any of it. I don’t know why I said that.”
It was a lie, a damn good one, because you believed it. In truth, Rafe wasn’t sorry for what he had said. Rather, he was sorry for saying anything. He knew he was threading on thin ice and the stronger he was coming on, the harder it was for his plan to succeed. You were a smart girl with dreams in which Rafe was just an addition and not a constant, and that hurt him.
It was a few weeks ago when he stumbled upon some brochures about an internship that could have helped your career greatly – and Rafe couldn’t have had that. He couldn’t watch you fly to Berlin or even New York. He also couldn’t have dealt with the fact that his girl was fine on her own without him. Because what really stopped you from fucking some other guy while Rafe was dealing with his shitty problems back home? Loyalty could have been a good answer, Rafe just didn’t believe in it. That was when Topper came up with the greatest fucking idea: get her pregnant. ‘She won’t leave if you knock her up, bro. Who the fuck would even employ her with a kid on the way?’
Since then, Rafe had been living by those few words.
“It’s fine,” you muttered. You let him undo the shorts and pull them off, revealing your blue pair of panties. “I know you didn’t.”
His fingers crept under the garment, stroking over your clit. His touch was gentle but confident – he exactly knew what you liked. His lips met yours again, teeth teasingly grazing over them.
“You make me fucking crazy,” he murmurs into the crook of your neck, just above your pulse point. A shaky breath escaped his lungs as he nuzzled into your skin, your familiar scent filling his nose. Your hands wandered to his pants and unbuttoned them with a swift motion. He pulled away from you, getting rid of his clothes before doing the same with yours.
The colorful fabrics laid comfortably on the floor as Rafe settled onto the mattress, back propped against the headboard. He tugged you tenderly into his lap, eyes trained on your features.
Pressing another kiss to your lips, his hands tightly grabbed your hips, fingers digging into the flesh.
“You are so pretty,” he whispered.
“But far from satisfied,” you added, a teasing smile appearing.
“Right,” he sighed. “My mouth or my cock?”
“Your cock,” you answered as you reached for a bottle of lube on your nightstand before flicking the top open and pouring it over his cock.
A hiss followed your movements at the coldness of the liquid, yet the annoyed grunt soon turned into a pleased moan when your fingers wrapped around his dick, gently pulling the skin up and down. His dick hardened under your touch and Rafe’s breathing became heavier as another second passed.
“I really need you,” he heaved, guiding your pussy above his cock before he slowly entered you. The slight movements of your hips were deliberate. Enjoying every little moment of each other’s embrace.
You were spent by the time he was done with you… and you were done with him. Your head rested on his chest, the residue of his cologne lingering on his skin.
“You won’t leave, right?” he asked, the words slipping past his lips without a second thought.
“What are you talking about?” You lifted your head, eyebrows raising in question.
“The internship.”
“How do you know about that?”
“Does it matter? I know about it… And I don’t want you to go.”
“It… What? It doesn’t work like that. It’s my life, Rafe. I… I might not even get into the program… Why are we even talking about that?”
“I thought I was part of your life… I got even fucking clean for you. Do you know how fucking hard that was?” Rafe bit back as he sat up in the bed, distancing himself from your touch.
“Please, Rafe,” you noted softly, trying to calm him down. When he was in a state like this, it was hard to talk to him, let alone reason with him. “It’s just six months. Nothing’s gonna happen. I’ll be back for Thanksgiving, Christmas, all the family stuff you don’t give a fuck about.”
“Yeah? Great. A week, maybe. You’ll be in Berlin or New York, having fun while I’ll deal with my shitty life here…”
“You had no problem with me going to university,” you reminded him.
“That was different. You were home almost every weekend.”
Rafe wasn’t scared of you leaving, he was scared of you never coming back. He knew that he was far from the perfect boyfriend, far from even a tolerable one. However, he was a selfish man. He needed to keep you chained to him, so you’ll never realize how fucked he really was.
“Look, can we drop this? I just want to spend time with you.”
“Are you going or not?”
“I… want to,” you exhaled.
He only nodded, chewing on the inside of his cheeks.
That night he stayed beside you, but sleep never came. Your words gnawed at the back of his mind, not letting him rest. September was a little more than two months away – the deadline for the application – and he was running out of time.
The passing days quickly turned into weeks, and soon, you found yourself once again in Rafe’s bedroom on a late August evening.
Since the fight, he had been like a changed man. Less aggressive and erratic, a little more hopeful. It was strange, seeing him so supportive when it came to your internship and your choices. He even portioned out the pills for every day with your vitamins.
It should have worried you. Such a turbulent switch meant nothing good. But you were happy – except for the mood swings and other odd stuff that came with your period. You tried not thinking too much about it. You were on the pill. The chance of getting pregnant on it was close to zero. You even kept a reminder in your phone, so you can take the it right at 09:00 AM. Still, you knew that sooner or later you needed to visit your doctor, it was clear that this brand wasn’t working for you.
The sounds of the running shower filled his room, the door to his bathroom left slightly ajar. The two of you were supposed to go to dinner together.
“Babe?” he called out, his voice mixed with the falling water droplets.
“Yeah?” you asked as you stepped closer to the doorway.
“Could you get me a shirt?”
“Sure.”
“Thanks.”
With that you turned towards his wardrobe, pulling out one of the drawers. Your fingers brushed over the different fabrics as you looked for something he could wear. You chose a simple white button-up with a fake pocket. Just as you wanted to make your way back to Rafe, you decided to pick out a pair of pants for him too. His taste in clothing was… sometimes questionable.
That was when you noticed a small bottle of pills. At first it didn’t surprise you. You had a nagging feeling that he was popping pills instead of snorting powder – it just confirmed everything you suspected. Then you took a closer look at the description: sugar pills. What the fuck was he doing with sugar pills?
It only took you seconds to put the clues together – the anger about you going on the pill and the way he was so attentive to portion out your daily vitamins when he didn’t care before. He swapped the active pills with placebo, leaving you with the colorful inactive ones…
WARNINGS: implied dependency; manipulation; drug abuse; obsession; implied baby trapping; fingering; loss of virginity; unprotected sex, penetrative sex (female receiving); choking; DUB-CON/NON-CON!
WORDCOUNT: around 3,2K.
GIF CREDIT
English is not my first language!
THAT night he screwed up again, or more specifically Theo fucked up his chance once again. Your brother was a fucking cock–blocker, Rafe was sure about that by now. He could have easily fucked you that party, but then of course, your brother waltzed back into his house, right when he wanted you to take back to his room.
He hated how much Theo cared about you, how much he coddled you. You were an adult… Why couldn’t he just let you live your life? He could have been a good boyfriend, a little fucked up, sure, but for you, he would get clean, might even go to college. He cringed at the thought. Yeah, maybe he wouldn’t go that far. He wasn’t the type to study much, not like you anyway.
A frustrated grunt escaped his lips, fingers running through his short hair. He hated himself for being so hung up on a girl like you. This whole fucking shit–show started in 10th grade. You didn’t have many people who liked you, let alone friends, so Theo did what every good brother would do, brought you around his friends, hoping one or two girls would stick with you. Well, it was clear that didn’t happen, but Rafe didn’t mind it. No, he actually enjoyed it quite much.
To be honest, you could have had friends but Rafe was more attached to your silent company than he wanted to admit, so he did what he had to keep you around. Lied to you, lied to your potential friends, lied to your brother. A little jab here and there, some nasty comments after a playful joke were more than enough to keep you isolated. He was never too aggressive in his approach. It wasn’t really his style… and he really didn’t want to come off as someone who wanted to fuck the weird girl from Figure Eight.
He was a lot of things, but a weirdo–fucker? Nah, not really.
However, it was a new day, a new opportunity to finally get what he wanted. To say he was delighted was an understatement. He was fucking ecstatic. He planned everything down to a T. It was going to happen… one way or another.
He took one last look at the mirror, fixing the collar of his crisp shirt. Tonight was Halloween which meant another costume party. He hated these things, so he put as little effort as he could — an expensive button up, a black tie and a pair of plastic horns. The corporate devil, fitting just right for someone like him. If only you dressed as a little slutty assistant.
Arriving at your family’s beach house, he spotted you immediately. He was surprised to see you with your fingers clasped around a bottle of apple cider, a frown etched onto your features as you argued.
“You promised me you would take me,” you said to your brother, your voice laced with frustration.
“I know I did, and I will. Tomorrow,” Theo suggested.
“But going to a Haunted House is not the same when it’s not Halloween.”
“Please, let me… Look, there is this girl… I really want to get to know her. I took you every Halloween for the past five years.”
“Hey,” Rafe cut in, his gaze falling on you. Maybe getting his dick wet was easier than he had anticipated now. “I can take ya.”
“What?” Theo asked, eyebrows furrowing in question.
“I can take her. She’ll be home by midnight. Nothing happened the last time either.”
“I don’t know, man. Don’t think it’s a good idea,” your brother noted, pulling his lips into a thin line. Midnight — a little more than half of an hour. Nothing bad could happen in thirty–five minutes, right?
“Theo, I took care of her. She was safe. I wasn’t the one who ditched her for a pussy, was I?” Rafe stated, nodding in your way. “Wanna come with me?”
“I… I don’t know.”
“Rafe’s right…” Theo exhaled, gaze lingering on Rafe a little longer before falling on you. “He’ll take care of ya, okay? You have your phone too. I’ll get you if anything happens.”
“Okay,” you sighed before accepting Rafe’s offer.
Yet, as Rafe turned to follow you to his car, your brother grabbed his shoulder, stopping him. His finger dug in slightly, worry tightening his grip. “Take care of her, for real. She had a drink before…”
“You know me, T… She’s your sister,” Rafe threw back casually.
“I know. That’s why I said that.” Theo’s words were simple, lacking any noticeable threat, but it halted Rafe for a bit. As he glanced at his friend, he didn’t find any malice in his eyes, just suspicion that always took over when it came to his little sister.
Yet, there was that nagging voice in the back of Rafe’s mind that didn’t let him entirely relax in Theo’s presence. It was probably his conscience. He was going to fuck one of his friends’ sister, and nobody could do anything about it.
With that Rafe left the beach house and the loud chatter behind. His heart was racing in joy, fingers gently shaking due to the dopamine in his brain. He was so fucking close to that one thing that had been on his mind for years. Since he was… What? Fifteen? Sixteen? Yet, his father dared to call him an impatient brat, but here he was — waiting for six years just to finally have the chance to fuck his girl.
“Sorry for dragging you with me,” you apologised, fiddling with the fabric of your dress. Your costume was simple. A long, white dress decorated with bloodprints and dirt, hair messy as if you just rolled out of bed.
“Don’t worry about that,” he brushed it off, opening the car for you before he slipped into the driver’s seat. He turned the ignition key, the engine roaring up softly. “So, who are you?”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
He stole a glance at you before he pulled out of the driveway, a cloud of dust following the vehicle. “Not really.”
“I’m a ghost,” you answered.
“You look too pretty for one.”
Your cheeks flushed with warmth at his compliment. You weren’t necessarily used to guys praising your appearance, though Rafe was never one to be shy about telling you his thoughts. You just didn’t take them seriously. “Thanks… I guess.”
It wasn’t long before you two reached an intersection, and he asked you for instructions. He didn’t know his way around here, never cared to learn to.
“Is he gonna be there?” Rafe probed.
“Who?”
“The guy who does this whole Haunted House shit,” he added, taking another left just as you had told him.
“I don’t know… Last year he wasn’t there when we went, but the year before he kept scaring us in almost every room,” you called back, a small chuckle following your words. That was probably the most emotion he had seen you express.
A part of him hoped that this Clark guy wasn’t going to be there. Sure, it could have been really kinky. He just wasn’t that much of a fan of voyeurism when he was one of the main characters.
“I hope not,” he muttered under his breath, your ears never picking up on his words. He was thankful for that, the last thing he wanted for you to be too aware of his plan. You weren’t stupid, just a little too… How to say it? Dismissive of social cues? Yeah, that was probably what described you the best.
When the two of you reached the abandoned mansion on the outskirts of Figure Eight, he killed the motor, the rumbling of the car dying down. The building was old, overrun by scarlet–hued ivies, the paint chipping around the corners. Perfect for the prospect of a Haunted House.
“I think you should leave your glasses here,” he noted, already reaching for them and taking them off with a gentle motion.
“I can’t really see without them,” you explained, but didn’t stop him.
“Don’t worry about that. I’ll be your eyes.”
You nodded. Still, you were reluctant. Your sight was already clouded by the alcohol in your veins and without your glasses you only saw colorful patches.
He got out of the car, he helped you out as well, his touch surprisingly tender for someone like him. For someone whose obsession was so deep that he would wait for years, just for a quick fuck. Yet, he knew it was just the beginning. The moment he got a taste of you, he was done for. He was a sick man, and in his eyes you were the medicine he needed to be cured.
He followed closely behind you as you entered the vacant villa, once full of life and promises.
‘The Haunting of Thompson House. Interactive haunting until 11 PM ($5 / entry). Entry until 12 PM (free),’ the cardboard sign read on the porch. Rafe stole a glance at his watch, 11:36. He didn’t have much time left until this Clark guy came back to close up the manor.
“They say it’s haunted,” you blurted out, strolling down the hallway toward the living room. The Thompson House had been a local spot for years, run by Clark and his mates for every Halloween. Yet, as the years passed the house became less interesting for new visitors and nobody really cared for it in Figure Eight except for you.
The interior was exquisite, as if he just stepped back into the roaring twenties, the antique furniture only ruined by the decorative spiderwebs and handmade bats.
“For real?”
“Yeah… I don’t believe it though.”
“Then why are we here?”
You shrugged. You didn’t have a good enough answer. You just enjoyed the atmosphere. “Sometimes it’s fun to entertain a silly thought, isn’t it? Even if it is made up by a guy to sell a few tickets.”
“I guess it is,” he hummed. He wasn’t one to do such things, not when his mind was always on you, hazing his judgement.
Rafe walked beside his fingers brushing against yours from time to time. It seemed as nothing more but an innocent touch, yet for him it was different – you let him touch you, you didn’t push him away.
The floor creaked under your weight as you approached the living room, the flickering light of the plastic candles illuminating your faces. He was close to you, you felt his warm breath against your neck, goosebumps appearing on your skin.
“What are you doing?” you questioned, slightly stumbling over your words. You turned towards his voice, squinting, but that didn’t help. You couldn’t make out his features, your vision was hazy, the artificial candlelight bleeding at the edges. You couldn’t see how dilated his pupils were. They were blown, no trace of his light eyes.
“What I always wanted,” he whispered, fingers grasping at your waist. “I noticed you, you know? Never really had the chance to turn your little head. He was always there as if he knew what I wanted, but then, today he gave you up on a silver platter. And who am I to refuse such an opportunity?”
The confession sobered you up. You didn’t… you never thought he would like you. He was the golden boy of Figure Eight, and you? You were the strange girl with the wealthiest family in town. The sole reason others never really bullied you was because your brother was another ticket to the high–life.
“Rafe, stop,” you pleaded, heartbeat quickening at his touch. “Please.”
“No.” He chuckled, mostly to himself. “Not anymore. I wanted this for so fucking long.”
“Don’t do this, please,” you begged as you pushed his hands away. You slowly backed away from him, keeping your eyes on him.
“I’m really over that,” he frowned. He was going to fuck you one way or another. He was done with being the good guy. He wanted you and he was going to have you. He wanted a lot of things in life and he always got them. Why would you be any different from that?
“I don’t want this.” Salty tears rolled down your burning cheeks.
“Too fucking bad,” he snapped as he tried to grab you. Yet, your wrist slipped from his hold, giving you a chance to escape him. You ran towards the hallway, his steps growing louder with each passing moment. He was close, too fucking close for you to even stop for a minute to think if you were going the right way or not.
You were running out of breath and the more you ran the less you saw. You had a feeling you were far from the main door, the flickering lights no longer reaching you. Your feet drummed against the stairs as you made your way upstairs, fingers clasped around the banister, looking for a place to hide in. Twenty minutes and you were safe. Safe from him and this fucking nightmare.
You glanced over your shoulders, letting out a relieved sigh. You were able to get rid of him, though you knew it was all momentary. You entered one of the rooms on your right, arms stretched out in hopes to find somewhere to hide.
“Shit,” you pressed the words out as you hit your knee on a bedframe, tingles spreading through your leg. You felt down the mattress and the frame, noting that you can sneak under the bed — and you did.
Your ear felt tight as the pressure grew in your mind, hearing your heart beat at a rampant rhythm. It wasn’t long until you heard his nearing steps as he approached the bedroom you were hiding in. His breathing was heavy, filled with need and anger.
“I know you are in here,” he noted, voice calm.
You didn’t move, you hoped he was bluffing, trying to lure you out without having to look for you himself. But that all withered away when his fingers wrapped around your ankles pulling you from your hiding place with a swift tug, a choked scream slipping past your chapped lips.
“Told you,” he teased cruelly, throwing you on your back. He grabbed your wrist, keeping it in a tight clasp as he pushed your dress up, revealing your simple pair of panties. You trashed under his hold, yet that only pleased him.
“Please, Rafe.” A sob broke out of you. “I won’t tell anyone, I swear.”
“And who would believe you? The fucking weirdo nobody really likes… Your brother? The one who rides my dick for a few grams of cocaine? Your parents? I’m sure they would rather see me with you than with some dirty Pogue.”
“Rafe —.”
His other shot to your neck, fingers digging into flesh. “Stop it.”
A suffocated cough escaped your lungs as he squeezed your neck, black dots entering your already blurry vision.
“Will you shut the fuck up?”
Your head fervently moved up and down, a pleased smile dancing on Rafe’s lips at the sight. “Good, I don’t really want to hurt you, but you are not really giving me any other option.”
His tie came unloose when he yanked the fabric, tying the silk around your wrists.
His hands sneaked to your panties, caressing you through the clothing. A satisfied purr left his lips when he felt the garment wetten.
“You are enjoying this, aren’t you?”
You shook your head, another stream of tears running down your cheeks. “Stop, please.”
“I already told you I won’t. Accept it,” he muttered before pressing a kiss to your neck, sucking on the skin as his fingers crept inside your panties, the digits tenderly stroking over your clit.
Embarrassment sat out on your features as he coaxed a moan out of you. You didn’t want this, so why did your body yearn for his touch?
“Just like that,” he whispered, pushing a finger inside your pussy in and out a few times before adding another one. “Gotta get you ready for my cock.”
His smell filled your nostrils, the familiar scent of the cologne you complimented rubbing onto your clothes. It made you nauseous. Your head was spinning. You weren’t sure if it was the aftermath of his hand around your neck or the sickening flavor of his perfume.
When your walls clenched around his fingers, he quickened his movements, the pad of his thumb pressing down on your clit, circling around the nub. Your soft sighs turned into heavy breaths as you neared your orgasm, yet it never came.
Rafe pulled back with a soft pop, smirking down at you.
“So fucking pretty,” he muttered, brushing a finger over your lower lip.
He lifted your hips, tugging down your underwear in a swift motion. You tried to resist, but his hold was still tight around your wrists, keeping you pinned on the floor. He threw the material away before he pushed his own pants and boxers down, revealing his already hard cock.
Your mouth felt dry, like it was stuffed with cotton. Sweat glistened around your temple, anxiety eating away your heart. You didn’t want your first time to happen this way, but you couldn’t escape. He was stronger than you, sober and had a good vision. He was also right. Who would believe you? Theo? But who would believe Theo? He had drug problems and everybody knew that — why would they believe a druggie, right? And your parents? Money was worth more than the well–being of their children.
You and your brother were both doomed, just in different ways. But it was all Rafe’s doing. He got Theo hooked on the drugs and now he was planning your downfall too.
“I’ll be gentle, don’t worry. I know it’s your first time.”
A hiss followed his movements as he pushed his dick inside you, your walls stretching around his thickness. He didn’t move at first and even when he did, he was tender and deliberate to do so. For him, this was better than any drugs he had taken. He was lost in his senses, no longer impatient and urgent. He needed to devour you, to really feel you, so when you weren’t with him, he still knew what it was like to fuck you. He needed to remember your soft moans, the heavy breaths and that fucking smell of caramel and vanilla that clouded his brain.
“You don’t know how fucked up you make me,” he heaved lowly as he thrusted inside you, deeper and deeper with each push of his hips. You couldn’t understand what he said, your mind refusing to put the words together. “But it’s fine. I have you now. Just gotta make sure I keep you around.”
A pregnancy would sure keep you around, wouldn’t it? You would need help and there was no better option than the father himself.
With one last move, he buried himself inside you, his seed coating your walls. He stayed like that for a while, waiting for his heart to calm down, for the euphoria to evaporate.
“Don’t cry.” It was heartless, the way he cooed as if he did nothing wrong… and in his mind he didn’t. He just took what he wanted. You. “You are going to thank me one day.”
SUMMARY: You are the town weirdo, and yet, he is the one who cannot stop the depraved thoughts of having you on his dick.
WARNINGS: drug abuse; sexual content; obsession; stalking; voyeurism; family neglect; consent ambiguity; MDNI!
WORDCOUNT: a bit less than 2K.
GIF CREDIT
YOUR muttered name and his suffocated moans filled his room while his hand roughly wrapped around his cock, pulling the skin up and down with practiced ease. He was high out of his mind, his pupils were blown, no trace of his otherwise light eyes. But it wasn’t because of the drugs, not this time. It was lust and desperation.
These times he was always thankful for his father’s lack of interest in his life. Ward never asked him if he wanted to join the happy family on a trip, and Rafe couldn’t give less fucks about accomponying them. He was fine this way… It might have been a lie, but the more he kept repeating it in his head, the more he believed it. He was an adult now, he had better things to do than spend time with his family that seemed to loath him.
His phone buzzed on the nightstand once and again, earning a deep, guttural groan from him. He was finally alone in that fucking house, and he could’t even masturbate in peace. He snatched a thin tissue from the paper box before wiping his hands clean and grabbing the device.
Two messages. Both from Kelce. A curse escaped his lips. Was he for real? Did he really just stop stroking his dick to text his friend? A small part of him hoped that it was your name flashing on the screen, but he knew it was only a fleeting wish.
It didn’t matter how weird others thought you were. In his eyes, it was a minor detail. Something he could look past at. He didn’t care about those ill-fitting glasses sitting on your nose, the oddly matched clothes you wore, and that thousand-yard stare you seemed to be a master of.
Yet even then, he couldn’t understand why his friends called you creepy or strange. Sure, he always felt like you were looking right into his very soul whenever you talked to him all while your eyes were lacking any emotion and feeling. However, there was something about you that caught his attention.
He couldn’t understand why he was so infuriated with you though. You weren’t THAT hot, nor were you that special. You were average. But that couldn’t have been the reason. Rafe Cameron didn’t want to be associated with average. What was it then? Your innocence that he so desperately wanted to ruin? No, that couldn’t have been either… He always fantasized about you as a sex-crazed nympho. Weirdo in the streets, freak in the sheets, or something like that.
‘You comin’ to the party?’
One of the texts read.
‘The weirdo you want to fuck is here too, bro.’
If a night of drinking and getting high didn’t interest him, now that second message sure did. It was rare for you to go anywhere, so he grabbed onto every opportunity he could.
His movements were quick as he got ready, pulling a casual white shirt over his head and black shorts on. After brushing his teeth and popping a piece of peppermint gum in his mouth, he opened the small bathroom cabinet, grabbing a bottle of cologne and spraying it on his neck and wrists. He hated this one, it was a gift from Rose and his father for his birthday. But you once complimented it, so he might as well use it.
‘I like how you smell.’ It was such a mundane thing to say, and yet, it stuck with him. For days.
When he was satisfied with the man that looked back at him in the mirror, he finally left the house and slipped into the driver’s seat of his truck before turning the ignition on, the engine coming to life with a low grumble.
It was only a few minutes later when he arrived at the beach house, the music already blasting through the thick walls, unknown faces mingling in the crowd, chatting with their friends.
A few hellos and handshakes accompanied his steps as he made his way deeper into the house. Approaching the kitchen, he grabbed a glass from the counter and an already half-empty bottle of whiskey from the fridge before serving himself.
The amber beverage burned his throat, the warmth of the alcohol running through his body. It didn’t calm him, but it gave him a bit of a kick. He only hoped that it was enough of an encouragement to fuck you tonight.
“Hey, man,” a male voice hit his ears before Rafe looked up from his drink.
Fuck.
“Good to see you, Theo,” he lied as he shook the older guy's hands. It was anything but good seeing your brother. Whenever he was around, Rafe had no chance of turning your pretty, little head. “Coke?”
“Not yet,” Theo answered, his fingers playing with the ignition key. “Gotta take my sister home.”
Of course. Fucking cock-blocker.
“I can take her home,” Rafe offered, a little too eagerly to make it seem like a genuine suggestion rather than a twisted chance for him to get you alone.
“Nah, no need,” your brother declined with a smirk. “You know how she is…”
No, he didn’t. He only wished.
“Stubborn as a mule,” he added. “Or whatever grandpa called her.”
“Right…”
“Be back in a few,” Theo noted before vanishing from the kitchen, leaving Rafe alone with his depraved thoughts.
That night the chance slipped through his fingers. If only he arrived a bit sooner, if only he were a bit more pushy with your brother. Who the fuck cared if Theo thought he was a weirdo? That guy would have done anything for a few grams of cocaine – except letting him fuck his sister. But that was the least of his problems as of right now…
It wasn’t even midnight when he found himself parked in front of your house after sneaking away from the party that couldn’t entertain him for even an hour. He was lucky enough that your brother got off his dick after snorting a few lines and didn’t question where he was going at 11 PM. Because, in all honesty, he was going to visit you.
He was angry at himself. He was Rafe Cameron, he could have any girl without creeping on them like some stalker… besides you.
His knuckles turned white as his fingers wrapped around the wheel, his breathing shallow and rugged. It felt like you were putting a show on for him, toddling around in your room, half-naked as you were getting ready for bed. He felt his dick harden as his eyes drank in your ass in those small panties and the way your breasts moved so softly while you were looking for a shirt to sleep in.
“Fuck,” he growled, hitting the wheel in a fit of rage.
He was acting like a damned perv. He had to go home, before he did something really bad.
The ride back to Tannyhill was a short one, but still, filled with suffocating anticipation. Fuck, at least he now had something to stroke his dick to, not just some porn actress who looked more or less like you. Because that was what he did, scrolled endlessly to find a bitch who even shared a bit of your facial features. Even then he couldn’t finish watching the videos, none of them were you after all.
His steps were quick as he entered the house, making his way immediately towards his room. He rummaged through the drawers of his nightstand, searching for his stashed cocaine. He was about to have the time of his life, jerking off to your naked tits while the drug travelled to his brain.
However, the day after these incredible highs were followed by depressing lows. Today wasn’t any different either. He spent most of the next morning and afternoon in bed, feeling nothing but a gnawing emptiness. He was chasing that euphoria, always. On the weekdays he couldn’t wait for the weekends, and on the weekends he couldn’t wait for the next Saturday. He didn’t know how much longer he was able to live like this before he totally spiraled into a man who only had one thing on his mind: you. For now, he still had the drugs as a company to his fantasies about you.
The days blurred into one long night as his mind longed for Friday to come sooner. Another house party, another chance for him to sink his teeth into your neck. But this time he wasn’t going to let you leave. This was his last chance to have you before his family came home from their vacation, and he didn’t know when the next trip without him was going to be planned.
Rafe heard the blaring music downstairs as he took one last look in the mirror, a confident half-smile appearing on his lips. Yet, the smirk quickly vanished when he noticed your reflection behind him.
You were here, in your ill-fitting clothes and wearing those weirdly shaped glasses.
“Did you like the show?” you asked as you stepped into his room and closed the door.
“What show?” He knew what you were talking about but there was no way he was going to sell himself out, not even when your accusation was right.
You just rolled your eyes at his question before approaching him, pressing your chest against his back.
“What are you doing?” The question came between short breaths, his heartbeat quickening at the warmth of your body against his.
“You have been fantasizing about this, haven’t you?” you teased as you sneaked your arms around his hips before you unbuttoned his shorts and your fingers creeping inside his boxers with gentle touches.
A deep exhale left his lungs as he felt your hand around his cock, stroking it lightly. He grabbed your wrist, stopping your movements before you could go further.
He gently pushed you away and turned around to face you. His pupils dilated at your slightly parted lips, already imaging how it would look wrapped around his cock. He was going to fuck you, maybe not tonight, but soon.
He shoved you to the bed before climbing over you, his lips immediately finding yours in a biting kiss. Fuck, you smelled so good too. He couldn’t pinpoint what exactly it was. Maybe berries, caramel… or vanilla. He buried his nose in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent. He needed you more than any drug.
Just then his fantasy was broken by a knock on his door cutting through the haze of his mind. It was all an illusion, a drug-induced delusion he couldn’t get out of his head.
“Fucking hell.”
He needed to stop snorting, he was going crazy.
“Yeah?”
“Hey,” you greeted him with a shy smile.
“Hey... Is everything okay?”
“Yes. Theo had to leave for a bit, and I don’t really know anyone but you…” you explained as your fingers played with the long skirt you were wearing. That was what he did, ditched you the moment his dick got hard. You normally would have gone home, but you didn’t want to walk in the dark. And this time Rafe was there to keep you company.
“It’s okay. I’ll take care of you while T is gone.”
There it was, that sly smirk on his face again. It should have scared you. Too bad you couldn’t read minds.
SUMMARY: You are the town weirdo, and yet, he is the one who cannot stop the depraved thoughts of having you on his dick.
WARNINGS: drug abuse; sexual content; obsession; stalking; voyeurism; family neglect; consent ambiguity; MDNI!
WORDCOUNT: a bit less than 2K.
GIF CREDIT
YOUR muttered name and his suffocated moans filled his room while his hand roughly wrapped around his cock, pulling the skin up and down with practiced ease. He was high out of his mind, his pupils were blown, no trace of his otherwise light eyes. But it wasn’t because of the drugs, not this time. It was lust and desperation.
These times he was always thankful for his father’s lack of interest in his life. Ward never asked him if he wanted to join the happy family on a trip, and Rafe couldn’t give less fucks about accompanying them. He was fine this way… It might have been a lie, but the more he kept repeating it in his head, the more he believed it. He was an adult now, he had better things to do than spend time with his family that seemed to loathe him.
His phone buzzed on the nightstand once and again, earning a deep, guttural groan from him. He was finally alone in that fucking house, and he couldn’t even masturbate in peace. He snatched a thin tissue from the paper box before wiping his hands clean and grabbing the device.
Two messages. Both from Kelce. A curse escaped his lips. Was he for real? Did he really just stop stroking his dick to text his friend? A small part of him hoped that it was your name flashing on the screen, but he knew it was only a fleeting wish.
It didn’t matter how weird others thought you were. In his eyes, it was a minor detail. Something he could look past at. He didn’t care about those ill-fitting glasses sitting on your nose, the oddly matched clothes you wore, and that thousand-yard stare you seemed to be a master of.
Yet even then, he couldn’t understand why his friends called you creepy or strange. Sure, he always felt like you were looking right into his very soul whenever you talked to him all while your eyes were lacking any emotion and feeling. However, there was something about you that caught his attention.
He couldn’t understand why he was so infuriated with you though. You weren’t THAT hot, nor were you that special. You were average. But that couldn’t have been the reason. Rafe Cameron didn’t want to be associated with average. What was it then? Your innocence that he so desperately wanted to ruin? No, that couldn’t have been either… He always fantasized about you as a sex-crazed nympho. Weirdo in the streets, freak in the sheets, or something like that.
‘You comin’ to the party?’
One of the texts read.
‘The weirdo you want to fuck is here too, bro.’
If a night of drinking and getting high didn’t interest him, now that second message sure did. It was rare for you to go anywhere, so he grabbed onto every opportunity he could.
His movements were quick as he got ready, pulling a casual white shirt over his head and black shorts on. After brushing his teeth and popping a piece of peppermint gum in his mouth, he opened the small bathroom cabinet, grabbing a bottle of cologne and spraying it on his neck and wrists. He hated this one, it was a gift from Rose and his father for his birthday. But you once complimented it, so he might as well use it.
‘I like how you smell.’ It was such a mundane thing to say, and yet, it stuck with him. For days.
When he was satisfied with the man that looked back at him in the mirror, he finally left the house and slipped into the driver’s seat of his truck before turning the ignition on, the engine coming to life with a low grumble.
It was only a few minutes later when he arrived at the beach house, the music already blasting through the thick walls, unknown faces mingling in the crowd, chatting with their friends.
A few hellos and handshakes accompanied his steps as he made his way deeper into the house. Approaching the kitchen, he grabbed a glass from the counter and an already half-empty bottle of whiskey from the fridge before serving himself.
The amber beverage burned his throat, the warmth of the alcohol running through his body. It didn’t calm him, but it gave him a bit of a kick. He only hoped that it was enough of an encouragement to fuck you tonight.
“Hey, man,” a male voice hit his ears before Rafe looked up from his drink.
Fuck.
“Good to see you, Theo,” he lied as he shook the older guy's hands. It was anything but good seeing your brother. Whenever he was around, Rafe had no chance of turning your pretty, little head. “Coke?”
“Not yet,” Theo answered, his fingers playing with the ignition key. “Gotta take my sister home.”
Of course. Fucking cock-blocker.
“I can take her home,” Rafe offered, a little too eagerly to make it seem like a genuine suggestion rather than a twisted chance for him to get you alone.
“Nah, no need,” your brother declined with a smirk. “You know how she is…”
No, he didn’t. He only wished.
“Stubborn as a mule,” he added. “Or whatever grandpa called her.”
“Right…”
“Be back in a few,” Theo noted before vanishing from the kitchen, leaving Rafe alone with his depraved thoughts.
That night the chance slipped through his fingers. If only he arrived a bit sooner, if only he were a bit more pushy with your brother. Who the fuck cared if Theo thought he was a weirdo? That guy would have done anything for a few grams of cocaine – except letting him fuck his sister. But that was the least of his problems as of right now…
It wasn’t even midnight when he found himself parked in front of your house after sneaking away from the party that couldn’t entertain him for even an hour. He was lucky enough that your brother got off his dick after snorting a few lines and didn’t question where he was going at 11 PM. Because, in all honesty, he was going to visit you.
He was angry at himself. He was Rafe Cameron, he could have any girl without creeping on them like some stalker… besides you.
His knuckles turned white as his fingers wrapped around the wheel, his breathing shallow and rugged. It felt like you were putting a show on for him, toddling around in your room, half-naked as you were getting ready for bed. He felt his dick harden as his eyes drank in your ass in those small panties and the way your breasts moved so softly while you were looking for a shirt to sleep in.
“Fuck,” he growled, hitting the wheel in a fit of rage.
He was acting like a damned perv. He had to go home, before he did something really bad.
The ride back to Tannyhill was a short one, but still, filled with suffocating anticipation. Fuck, at least he now had something to stroke his dick to, not just some porn actress who looked more or less like you. Because that was what he did, scrolled endlessly to find a bitch who even shared a bit of your facial features. Even then he couldn’t finish watching the videos, none of them were you after all.
His steps were quick as he entered the house, making his way immediately towards his room. He rummaged through the drawers of his nightstand, searching for his stashed cocaine. He was about to have the time of his life, jerking off to your naked tits while the drug travelled to his brain.
However, the day after these incredible highs were followed by depressing lows. Today wasn’t any different either. He spent most of the next morning and afternoon in bed, feeling nothing but a gnawing emptiness. He was chasing that euphoria, always. On the weekdays he couldn’t wait for the weekends, and on the weekends he couldn’t wait for the next Saturday. He didn’t know how much longer he was able to live like this before he totally spiraled into a man who only had one thing on his mind: you. For now, he still had the drugs as a company to his fantasies about you.
The days blurred into one long night as his mind longed for Friday to come sooner. Another house party, another chance for him to sink his teeth into your neck. But this time he wasn’t going to let you leave. This was his last chance to have you before his family came home from their vacation, and he didn’t know when the next trip without him was going to be planned.
Rafe heard the blaring music downstairs as he took one last look in the mirror, a confident half-smile appearing on his lips. Yet, the smirk quickly vanished when he noticed your reflection behind him.
You were here, in your ill-fitting clothes and wearing those weirdly shaped glasses.
“Did you like the show?” you asked as you stepped into his room and closed the door.
“What show?” He knew what you were talking about but there was no way he was going to sell himself out, not even when your accusation was right.
You just rolled your eyes at his question before approaching him, pressing your chest against his back.
“What are you doing?” The question came between short breaths, his heartbeat quickening at the warmth of your body against his.
“You have been fantasizing about this, haven’t you?” you teased as you sneaked your arms around his hips before you unbuttoned his shorts and your fingers creeping inside his boxers with gentle touches.
A deep exhale left his lungs as he felt your hand around his cock, stroking it lightly. He grabbed your wrist, stopping your movements before you could go further.
He gently pushed you away and turned around to face you. His pupils dilated at your slightly parted lips, already imaging how it would look wrapped around his dick. He was going to fuck you, maybe not tonight, but soon.
He shoved you to the bed before climbing over you, his lips immediately finding yours in a biting kiss. Fuck, you smelled so good too. He couldn’t pinpoint what exactly it was. Maybe berries, caramel… or vanilla. He buried his nose in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent. He needed you more than any drug.
Just then his fantasy was broken by a knock on his door cutting through the haze of his mind. It was all an illusion, a drug-induced delusion he couldn’t get out of his head.
“Fucking hell.”
He needed to stop snorting, he was going crazy.
“Yeah?”
“Hey,” you greeted him with a shy smile.
“Hey... Is everything okay?”
“Yes. Theo had to leave for a bit, and I don’t really know anyone but you…” you explained as your fingers played with the long skirt you were wearing. That was what he did, ditched you the moment his dick got hard. You normally would have gone home, but you didn’t want to walk in the dark. And this time Rafe was there to keep you company.
“It’s okay. I’ll take care of you while T is gone.”
There it was, that sly smirk on his face again. It should have scared you. Too bad you couldn’t read minds.
SUMMARY: You are left stranded with Rafe Cameron on a small Thai island.
WARNINGS: mentions of Rafe’s past substance abuse; cheesy tropes (enemies-to-lovers, only one bed, getting stranded on an island); crack fic! (don’t take it too seriously); Reader and Rafe both being meanies to each other.
WORDCOUNT: around 5K.
DIVIDER: @/uzmacchiato.
Before we start I’d like to say a few things: while a part of the fic itself takes place in Phuket, I took some geographical liberties and the other half of the fic is on a fictional island. Another thing is that Reader is not a native Thai-speaker, and it is made clear in the fic. I hope you guys, who are native Thai-speakers can look past it. Thank you! <3
Also, hihi, Rafe is a bit non-canon... as in he didn’t murder anyone, just almost.
YOU dreaded these trips with your family and the Camerons. Same island every year, but different hotels or villas to lounge around in. To be honest, you didn’t mind Thailand, not even a bit. There was always something that was worthy to explore. What you did mind was Rafe Cameron himself.
He was, in simple words, your nemesis. Well, it was a bit of a stretch, you couldn’t let your life revolve around him like that, so you tried to think of him more as an annoying inconvenience. That, probably, described him the best. More or less. Maniac drug abuser, might have been a better fit though if you were into overdramatizing unfortunate life situations… Which maybe you were.
But who were you to judge anyway?
“Can I go to the pool noooow, mommy?” your six-year-old sister asked as she tugged on your mother’s dress with her little fingers.
She was… a lot sometimes. Or maybe, it was just the age-gap between the two of you. You were already fifteen when your mother had given birth to her. It was pretty hard adjusting to a newborn while you were in the middle of your teenage years, and to be honest, the lack of attention you were used to wasn’t easy on you either.
“Only if there is an adult, you know that,” your mother quipped as she put away the rest of the toiletries your family had packed for the two-weeks-long stay.
Your little sister, Zoey looked at you expectantly, hoping you would offer to watch her while she had fun in the water.
You opened your mouth, ready to say a confident no, yet, your mother fixed you with a warning gaze, ‘don’t ruin her vacation’. Forcing a smile, you let your sister know that you were going to spend some time with her at the pool. However, you couldn’t contain the scoff that followed your words. Your mom probably noticed it, but said nothing, keeping the peace you so apparently wanted to set on fire.
There were times when you thought your mother liked your little sister more than you, these kinds of situations were one of them. Don’t ruin her vacation, blah, blah, blah. What about your vacation though? Why did your parents always ruin them by having the Camerons tag along?
You had no idea. For some reasons your parents loved to spend their free time with them, so why would have been a vacation in Thailand any different?
It wasn’t like you hated everyone in that family… Well, hate was a pretty harsh word to describe your disdain towards Rafe. A very strong dislike was a more applicable turn of words. Ward was nice enough to you, Rose was Rose and you were able to have quite pleasant conversations with Wheezie. As for Sarah, she was almost like a friend to you, a little sister you wished you had instead of the little terror you actually had for a sibling. You had a sneaking suspicion that Zoey would grow out of it though. Your behavior left a lot to be desired too when you were her age, at least judging by the stories your mother had told.
A few minutes later, you and your sister arrived at the pool after changing into your bathing suits. Before letting the girl into the water, you applied some sunscreen on her skin and placed her favorite safari hat on the top of her head.
“Are you coming in?” she asked as she grabbed your hand and started to pull you up from the sunbed. She was pretty strong for a child her age.
“Zoey, stop,” you told her while trying to peel her chubby fingers off your wrist.
“Y/N, pleeease,” she whined, her hold tightening on your arm.
“Zoey,” you warned her once again, seemingly without any success.
“Why are you not coming in?” she kept pressing on the matter, your jaw clenching at her fussiness. You had been only with her for a few minutes and your patience was already at its tipping point. You liked kids, however, living with one that wasn’t raised by you was nerve-racking.
“Yeah, Y/N. Why aren’t you going in?” There he was. The last person you wanted to see right now, tan and smug, ready to ruin your afternoon. “Don’t tell me mother nature is visiting you. You poor girl… It would explain why you’ve been such a cunt to me since we got here.”
“You are such a child,” you scoffed as you let Zoey nudge you to do pool.
“Y/N,” your little sister turned to you as the two of you toddled to the ladder. “What does cunt mean?”
‘Fuck’, you cursed internally. Of course, she would pick on that word. Why wouldn’t she? Her brain was like a sponge which reminded you of that one time when you said ‘oh, shit’, and she didn’t stop repeating that one word for days. It was quite a long week you spent in your room for being a bad influence.
“Well, that is not a nice word,” you explained, watching her get into the water and shortly following her. “So, we don’t tell that to anyone. Even more so to our parents… But when Rafe talks to me you can say, ‘Rafe, you are such a cunt’.”
He snorted as he sneaked his arms behind his head and laid down on another sunbed close to the one you and Zoey had occupied. “What a role model you are!”
“Rafe,” your sister called out for him after reaching the edge of the pool, resting a little.
“Yeah, sweetheart?” he asked, unsuspicious of Zoey’s intentions.
“You are such a cunt.” She giggled as she pressed her tongue to her front teeth, one of them missing as it recently fell out.
“Zoey,” you scolded her. You were the one who told her to do it, but you didn’t think she would do it for real.
“What? You said I can say it.”
“Yeah, well, it was wrong of me to do that. You don’t say that to anyone, okay? And not in front of our parents,” you asked, hoping that she would understand. You didn’t want to sit through another lecture on child development and the supposed harm of cursing in front of young kids. “It’s not a nice word to call someone, and I made a mistake when I let you say it…”
“But Rafe called you that too,” she wondered.
“He’s not a nice person, you know,” you pointed out.
“I’m still right here,” he butted in. He actually seemed offended at your words. You weren't sure why, you only told the truth to your sister.
“You say it like I’m lying.”
“I like him though,” Zoey simply declared. “He does funny things sometimes.”
“Aww, I like you too, sweetheart,” he replied, his tone sweeter than you had ever heard.
“Whatever,” you muttered. This was unfair. You were getting ganged up on by a 6-year-old and the town psycho.
“I’m sorry for calling you a bad word,” she added sheepishly which only earned a scoff from you. She never apologized to you. Okay, maybe a few times she did, but it was never this sincere, and she mostly only did because your mom threatened her.
“Look at that, Y/N, your little sister learned sooner to say sorry than you.” He snickered.
“Mind your own business,” you said, grumbling the words before turning to your sister, offering to play with her.
“What? No snarky comeback?” he questioned, an arrogant smirk appearing on his lips.
“Zoey, look at those pretty flowers,” you commanded and when your little sister did as you told her, you flipped him off.
“They are pretty,” she noted, amazement appearing in her voice.
“Real mature.”
The rest of the afternoon went uneventful. Rafe kept quiet, just as he should have his whole life, and you even had fun playing with Zoey in the pool. By the time she got bored of staying in the water, it was time for dinner.
When you and Zoey entered the dining room, the table was already set, different steaming dishes laid in front of your eyes, the pleasant smell wafting through the air and filling the villa. You couldn’t wait to dig in, your stomach grumbling at the sight alone.
You decided to take a seat next to your father who was sitting at the head of the table, just like Ward who grabbed a chair opposite from him. Just when you thought that Zoey would plop down on the other side of your father, she instead chose a chair between you and your mother. This all left Rafe one spot which meant you had the greatest experience of having to face him for at least an hour.
Things were going well for a short while, until your father made a rather naive mistake and asked a question from Rafe. It could have been all fine and dandy, however, it seemed that not only you had some misunderstandings with your mother, but Rafe and Ward too.
“So, what have you been up to, son?” your father inquired from Rafe. For some reason your dad liked him which was surprising, considering how little time they actually spent together. Guess, he saw him as a son he hoped to have. But then again, he cracked a joke here and there about being lucky enough to only raise two lovely girls.
“I actually –.”
“Does he look like someone who does anything?” Ward quipped, seemingly to tease his son, yet you had a feeling it was more of a dig at Rafe’s character than an innocent jest.
“You can’t just shut up, can you?” he breathed out.
“I could shut up,” Rafe’s father retorted, anger rising in his voice. “But unfortunately, my son is my greatest disappointment.”
The air froze, the chatter died down and even Zoey noticed the tension around the table… Which wasn’t a good sign, your sister was always so occupied in her dream world that she had to be reminded to drink some water from time to time.
“Let’s just all eat,” your father tried to dissolve the hostility between the two men, yet the words seemed to do nothing.
With a scoff and an inaudible murmur escaping his lips, Rafe pushed his chair back and stood up before leaving the dining room, and probably the villa too.
Great… How were you supposed to eat now?
It would have been weird, if you were just to wolf down everything after this incident, wouldn’t it?
“Go after him.” You heard your mother’s command, distracting you from a highly important moral dilemma.
“What? Why?” Your question came subconsciously, before you could have controlled your own tongue.
“Because someone has to,” she noted, but this time with more force in her voice.
“If she doesn’t want to, she doesn’t have to,” Ward interjected, not necessarily fazed by his son’s outburst.
“There’s a storm coming,” your mother snapped. “It’s not safe for him to be out there.”
“Fine,” you gave in with an annoyed sigh. “I’ll get him… but I hope you know I’m going to be miserable the whole time.”
“This girl’s gonna put me into an early grave…”
It took you five thrilling minutes to find him at the docks, the engine of his father’s boat already rumbling, breaking the otherwise tranquil scene of the sea.
“Rafe,” you called out his name as you stopped at the edge of the pier. “Uhm… So, like there’s a storm coming… You should come back.”
A few seconds passed without an answer. The boat wasn’t that big, he should have heard what you said, but then again, he could have just given you the silent treatment. Which fitted him just right.
“Rafe,” you repeated as you got onto the boat and approached the cockpit.
“I heard you for the first time,” he snarled, turning to face you.
“Then get back to the villa,” you asked, desperately hoping to get back to the safety of the house.
“I’ll be back in an hour… Before the storm hits.” He seemed less agitated now, however, the disdain was still evident in his voice.
For who? You weren’t sure… His father, you or the situation. It was hard to tell.
But you couldn’t just leave him here. You didn’t like him, that was true, but you also didn’t want him going missing or something awful happening to him either.
“Fine… We go on a short ride. You calm down, and then we get back to our parents –.”
“I don’t need a babysitter,” he cut in sharply as he reached to untie the rope tethering the boat to the dock post. The tie came unloose with a swift movement, and you looked back at the pier one last time. You could see the villa from a distance, and you wondered if your parents had decided to go back to dinner or not. You were pretty hungry too to be truthful. You should have just devoured whatever was on your plate before coming here.
“I’m not here to babysit,” you grumbled, your lips twitching in annoyance. “I just don’t need another lesson from my mother.”
“Then sit your ass down somewhere and stay quiet.”
You rolled your eyes, but did as he asked. If it meant that he would be more cooperative then so be it. You didn’t want to talk to him anyways.
Still, as you looked at the sky, dread filled your body. The sky looked clear and the water was almost serene, only a few small currents cracking the stillness here and there. It should have been fine.
Then why did you feel this anxiety deep in your heart?
Each and every passing second you looked at the watch that sat tightly around your wrist, anticipating the moment when Rafe decided that he was calm enough and wished to go back to secure ground, safe from the brewing storm.
You cursed yourself for being this nice, not wanting him to get hurt. If you were just a tad bit more selfish, you would be out of danger and could be sleeping away from the upcoming heavy rain with a stomach full of tasty Thai food.
“I think we should go back now,” you suggested as you approached him.
You two were away from the land, too far away to somebody notice the boat in the darkness of the night.
“It’s fine, Y/N,” he stated. “The sky is still clea –.”
The moment he muttered those words a lightning struck nearby, followed by the deep roar of thunder. Your body tensed at the sound, temporarily freezing.
“I want to go back to the villa. Now.”
“Yeah,” he agreed.
He didn’t need much to steer the boat around, yet the storm seemed to be impending quicker than what the small yacht was capable of. The clouds were gathering at a pace that was hard to overtake. It was only seconds later when the cold water droplets started to pour down, wetting the deck with heavy thuds.
“Rafe, hurry,” you demanded, your voice shaking with anxiety.
“I’m trying, Y/N,” he snapped, his fingers tightly gripping the wheel, his knuckles turning white at the pressure.
“We are fucked,” you mumbled under your nose as you felt the angered sea sway the boat, forcing you to grab onto the nearest rail, trying to steady yourself.
“Call your parents,” he barked a command as he fought against the enraged currents.
The air was heavy with the smell of metal and salt, every breath you took burning your lungs. Maybe it wasn’t the smell, but the fear that was causing that feeling deep in the pit of your stomach. You didn’t want to die like this, not with him, of all people… and not this young either, of course.
“With what phone?” you cried out.
“You don’t have your fucking phone with you?!”
“NO!” you yelled back, panicking at the sight of the hopeless situation.
That was when you saw it. A dark and revenge-hungry wave... It was coming at the boat with a force that you knew the two of you couldn’t escape.
It was too late to do anything now, other than to brace yourselves for the inevitable. The sea was going to take you with her, one way or another.
“Fuck,” you mumbled.
“Fucking hell,” you muttered as you pushed yourself onto your hands and knees, a suffocated cough escaping your lungs. You weren’t at Phuket that much you were sure of. You spent enough time on the island to have a good sense of its atmosphere, and nothing was even a tad bit similar.
You heard some nestle come from your right side, your eyes falling on Rafe who had started to gain a sense of his surroundings. Great, you and him on a – hopefully not – inhabited island. As if the whole vacation couldn’t get any worse…
“Fuck,” he whispered a curse under his nose as he turned on his back, deep breaths leaving his lungs. “What the fuck had happened?”
An ugly snort escaped your lips as your eyes fell on him, your eyebrows furrowing at the absurdity of his question. “What the fuck do you think had happened?!”
You were close to committing aggravated assault. Too bad you were too much of a coward to hit him in the head with a coconut.
“We got stranded on an island, huh?”
“Has anyone ever said you are a genius?” you asked before finally standing up. Your legs wobbled slightly at the haste movement, your palms steadying your upper body on your knees before you straightened your back and brushed the sand off your half-wet clothes. It was probably one of your worst ideas, but they were already ruined… What more could a little sand do?
“I’m noticing a bit of sarcasm in your voice, so I’m not going to answer that question,” he muttered as he followed your movements and stepped closer to you.
“Stay the fuck back,” you stated, putting a healthy distance between the two of you. It was needed for your own mental well-being.
“Look, can we just act civilised, please? I know I messed up, I know it’s my fault we are here. And I know you think I’m just a drugged up asshole, but I have changed since then… A lot actually,” he noted, defeat appearing in his voice.
“Changed?! You almost killed a cop! A fucking cop! And the shit you did to those Pogues?! They were kids!” You threw your hands in the air, frustration evident on your face. “How do you change from that?”
“I was deep in my own addiction. I was fucked, okay?”
“Yeah, ‘cause that makes it all better. I’ll snort some lines too and try to kill you, how about that?” you questioned, yet you didn’t let him answer, continuing your ramble. You felt your heart rate quicken, your cheeks burning in… anger? Despair? Fear? You weren’t sure what was the right word. “You are a fucking psychopath, Rafe, and if your mother would be here, she would be fucking disappointed in the piece of shit you have become.”
“That’s a low blow, Y/N.”
He was right. That wasn’t very nice of you to say, but then again, there was no way you were going to apologize to him. So you just accepted the guilt that came after you saw the pain in his eyes. It was easier to live with that than a destroyed ego.
“Well, I could blow lower.”
Fuck, that came out entirely wrong.
“What… did you just say?” he asked, the hurt momentarily vanishing from his face.
“Nothing,” you groaned.
You turned your back to him and made a beeline to… fuck knew where. You just wanted to get away from him, and hopefully, find someone who could help you get back to Phuket.
“You did say something,” he said, smirking under his nose as he jogged up to you, slowing down to your pace once he had reached you.
“I said nothing,” you mutter, pushing him away, yet it was only enough for him to stumble slightly before regaining his balance.
He didn’t react to your words. He rather kept up with your hasty steps towards wherever you went. While what you said earlier did hurt him – not necessarily his ego, but his mother was always a sensitive topic for him –, he didn’t mind your company. You were a sight for sore eyes, at least for his, and you were quite entertaining too.
“So, like,” he started, yet quickly shut his mouth as he caught a glimpse of that stare. The one that told him to shut the fuck up.
You only had to take a few longer steps to notice someone in the distance. You couldn’t make out if it was a man or woman. They were too far away to make such a speculation. Your pace had quickened as you walked towards the stranger, hoping they could help you find a way home.
You wondered if your parents were worried or not. Your father probably was, you were his little girl after all. As for your mother, she was always anxious about one thing or another, your disappearance with Rafe definitely made it worse. But well, that wasn’t your fault, which was a rare occurrence in your life. It was your mom after all who pushed you to look for a man in his early twenties who was more than capable of taking care of himself… on paper.
“Where are you going?” he asked as he grabbed your shoulder and turned to face him.
“To ask them where we are,” you snapped as you pointed to the stranger in the distance. “I’m not staying here any longer than I have to… Let alone with you.”
“You are so fucking childish, Y/N,” he grumbled with a small shake of his head, a dejected breath leaving his lungs. One that he kept in for way too long.
“Then stay here, I don’t care.” You didn’t wait for his answer and left him in the dust, just like how he did when the two of you were fourteen, playing truth and dare.
“I’m not going to look for you if they turn out to be a fucking murderer,” he yelled after you.
“At least I’ll die in peace.”
It was only moments later when you reached the stranger who was an elderly woman. Getting yourself understood and understanding her was a bit of a struggle in the beginning, but by the time you reached the small village, you found out a few things. The old lady was called Nathamon and you were at no other than Ko Saen Lek where the ferry goes to Phuket every three days, and ‘lucky’ for you, the last one left yesterday morning.
Maybe your father wasn’t wrong when he kept pressuring you about learning Thai. It could always come in handy, he would say. You didn’t believe him, but you wanted to make him happy, so you sat your ass down every Saturday with him. It turned out that from time to time, your parents were right.
Nathamon gave some advice on how to get through the village and who to look for if you needed help getting through the night. It wasn’t long before you found yourself at a lively market, colorful fruits and traditional candies filling your sight. You could feel the suspicious gazes and the curious glances shot in your way, but you didn’t pay them too much attention. You couldn’t judge them for being interested, you were a new face around here, and well, your appearance left some things to be desired.
As you walked down the road, you accepted every bit of fruit and food that were pushed into your hands for free, grateful for the hospitality. Soon, you found yourself back on the beach, nibbling on a piece of ripe mango. You weren’t going to sleep hungry, but that begged another question.
Where were you going to sleep?
It was getting late and your chance of finding someone who would be fine with sharing their house with a stranger was low, very low.
“I thought you said you wouldn’t come back looking for me,” you reminded Rafe as you saw him approaching.
“Yeah, as you can see I’m not just a psychopath but a liar too,” he replied, his voice laced with a hint of anger and hurt.
“Sorry,” you muttered, looking down at your shoes.
This was the easiest way for you to apologize. You didn’t want to seem too sincere. He never said sorry to you either for that one thing he did to you when you were both freshmen in high school.
“Look, I just wanted to say that I found a place for us to sleep at.”
“How?”
He only shrugged. “Met a guy who speaks English, and he said he has a vacant hut nearby. It was his grandma’s. Nothing fancy, but better than the beach.”
“Right,” you agreed before standing up and dusting your shorts off.
You followed Rafe towards the cabin, mostly in peaceful silence. At least from your part. You didn’t really know what was going through Rafe’s head, and to be honest, you didn’t want to know either. Nothing good, you reckoned.
The sun had almost set by the time the two of you reached the hut. It was rather small, just enough for you and him to reside in for the next few days. You were thankful for the opportunity to have a roof over your head, however, there was one thing that made you disappointed…
There was only one bed.
“Great,” you muttered under your breath as you entered the bedroom and plopped down on the mattress. You hoped he would offer to take the floor while you lounged on the furniture all by yourself. He was the man after all, and that was the least he could have done. He was the reason why you were here in the first place.
“Have you eaten anything?” Rafe asked, stopping in the doorway.
“Yeah.” You nodded. “You?”
“Me too,” he cleared his throat before answering. A beat of silence followed his words, “Do you want me to show you where you can shower?”
“Yes, please,” you agreed, a little more enthusiastically than you had anticipated. You really needed a shower. Your clothes were sticking to your skin, the humidity in the air not sparing your hair either.
After a quick, yet refreshing shower you made your way back to the cabin, a pair of fresh shorts and a shirt laying on the bed. The clothes smelled of flowers you couldn’t entirely point out. Lilies, daisies, lavender… You weren’t sure, and to be truthful, you didn’t care either. You were just happy to have a fresh set of garments to wear.
“Never thought you’d be so quick to wear a stranger’s clothes,” Rafe remarked as he appeared in the bedroom, a towel hung loosely around his hips.
“Did somebody die in it or what?”
“Not that I know of,” he replied, grabbing a pair of shorts and pulling it up before discarding the towel onto the chair in the corner of the room. Fuck, he looked good. Too bad he was an asshole.
“WHAT?”
“Calm down, eh.” He smirked. “Tawan said it’s his sister’s clothes… As far as I know she is still alive and well.”
“You are not funny, I hope you know that,” you grumbled as you laid down on the mattress and pulled the thin blanket over your legs.
Your eyes widened as you saw Rafe mirror your movements and get comfortable on the bed as well. “What are you doing?”
“What do you mean? I’m not going to sleep on the floor.”
“And I’m not going to sleep next to you,” you declared.
“Then sleep wherever you want.”
“You sleep wherever you want. You are the reason I’m in this mess.”
He scoffed, hurt flashing in his eyes, his eyebrows softly furrowing. “Why do you hate me so much?”
“I don’t hate you,” you quickly retorted.
That was the truth. You didn’t hate him. He just did something to you that made you dislike him very much.
“You clearly act like you do.”
That was also true. You weren’t nice to him for sure. But he deserved it. He never said sorry. Not even when he had the chance.
“What did I ever do to you?” He was tired of this back and forth between you and him. He didn’t mind it back home. He even found it enjoyable. The constant sarcastic jokes and witty responses were something he looked forward to on the weekends. He thought of them as something that bonded you together, but this incident made him realise that you indeed weren’t just joking, you meant every nasty thing you had said to him. “Oh my God, you are still mad at that fucking kiss. It was almost ten years ago.”
That fucking kiss… You were at a house party and a few of you were playing Truth or Dare when it was Rafe’s turn to choose. He chose dare. It was a simple challenge – he had to kiss you. At that time, you were head over heels for him. So, of course you let him, but then Monday came and all you heard was that you kiss like a dead fish. Then the nicknames just kept getting more creative. By the end of the school year, you had only one friend left who attended your pool party.
“You embarrassed me in front of everyone,” you snapped at him, your voice trembling with anger. “I was bullied by the whole school for weeks, and you did nothing.”
He parted his lips to defend himself, but he couldn’t. You were right, he did nothing to stop his mates from bullying you. The truth is, he enjoyed that kiss way too much. But there was no way he would have confessed that to his friends.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered, looking at you. “I just… They were already making fun of me that I liked a girl, and I didn’t want them to know it was you. I know I was a dick, and I’m sorry for that.”
“You liked me?”
“Yeah, I still do, even though you are a cunt to me,” he admitted quietly.
“You are really bad at apologising,” you stated. “But I’ll accept it. I wasn’t nice to you either, and I’m sorry too.”
“What do we do now?”
“We kiss, I guess,” you supposed, shrugging your shoulders.
“Fine by me,” Rafe accepted before leaning in and gently pecking your lips. You sneaked your arms around his neck as he laid you down on the mattress, deepening the kiss. It was sweet, and yet biting. He was hungry for you, for your affection. However, he couldn’t stop himself from ruining the moment by blurting out his dumb thoughts. “I got hard quicker than the last time.”
“We are not going to have sex.”
“Fine, I’ll keep my dick to myself… for now.”
end.
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THE music thumped in the background as you stood in front of the bonfire, an unknown guy’s arm lazily slung around your hips, his lips playfully pecking yours. You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or the absence of your stepbrother, but being seen by a guy your age felt liberating.
It had been a good few days since you had been at a party, let alone at one where your stepbrother wasn’t present. Whenever the two of you attended together, he always made sure that you had a miserable time.
His lips slowly wandered to your exposed neck, pressing biting kisses to the sensitive skin. You felt his fingers run down your sides, sneaking to your butt before gently squeezing the meaty flesh. You bit back a moan, losing yourself in his teasing touches, until a familiar voice broke the moment.
What the fuck was he doing here?
“Where’s Y/N?” he yelled, yet when he didn’t get an answer he kept barging through the crowd, offended yelps following his actions.
“Isn’t he looking for you?” the boy muttered as his gaze fell to Rafe, who almost reached the two of you, determined to take you home.
“Yeah… I should go,” you offered a small smile, your palms already feeling clammy at the inescapable confrontation with him.
You slipped away before Rafe spotted you tangled in another man’s embrace. You knew that it would be another spark to the already burning fire.
He was mad, seething in anger, and you wondered what got him in such a prissy mood. You wanted to ask him about it, but the last time you did, he called you a spoiled bitch, so you decided against that.
His sudden outburst didn’t surprise you that time, though. He was always like this, at least since you had known him. You were ten when you and your mother moved in with them. At first, everything seemed to fall in place. The six of you looked like a real family. Then a few months later, when the two of you reached middle school, things went south. Rafe’s instant mood swings became an everyday occurrence and it tainted the days of yours and your family’s life.
That was when his hatred for you really grew. As your mother and father tried to find a solution to his problems in their free time, you did everything your parents had asked you. You became the golden child of your family and as Rafe’s issues worsened, he got the role of the scapegoat which slowly turned him into what he was. A controlling asshole who only wanted his father’s approval.
“Next time you come here to whore around, at least don’t forget to tell your mom that you're still alive,” he scoffed as he grabbed your arms, guiding you through the crowd. His hold was rough, his fingers digging into the soft tissue of your forearm, a soft wail leaving your lips as he dragged you after him. “I’m so done dealing with your shit.”
His words didn’t even hurt you anymore, you got used to it quite early in your teenage years. Yet, the humiliation that came with these incidents were something you could never shake off.
“Let go of me,” you yelped, trying to pry his hand off of your arm without any success. “Why are you doing this?!”
He didn’t listen, he just kept walking to his car, tugging you along the way like luggage. You hated how familiar you got with the way he treated you, how your mind subconsciously shut down whenever he got like this.
“Rafe, please,” you pleaded. You weren’t the type to beg for a man; however, his hold was getting tighter every second, and you were sure it was going to bruise.
This time he turned around, grasped your shoulders, and pushed you against his car. Your back met the cold metal with a painful thud, a suffocated groan leaving your lips.
“You wanna know why I’m doing this?” he grunted as he trapped you between the car and his body. “I want my father to know what kind of person you really are. The partying, the fucking around with every guy that ever said something nice about you. I want our parents to know that you are just an irresponsible little whore.”
You didn’t say a word. You didn’t want to escalate the situation. You were scared of him. He was stronger than you, more muscular. And who would care what Rafe Cameron is doing when all these assholes were riding on his dick just for a few grams of cocaine?
“Get in the car.”
You did as he asked and slid into the passenger’s seat. He quickly followed your movements and turned the key, the engine roaring up with a loud purr.
The ride was quiet, only Rafe’s low murmurs breaking the silence. Still, even that was better than actually talking to him.
Once he reached the driveway, Rafe had killed the engine and got out of the car, the scowl on his lips turning into a cruel smirk. He felt victorious. He couldn’t wait to see your eyes filled with tears and your trembling mouth that was barely able to control the ugly sobs. He was going to win this round, he knew it. His father would see it. He’d finally see that you are just as reckless and flawed as he was. Maybe then, Ward would stop pretending his son was the only problem child in the family.
“Sweetheart, I was so worried. Where were you? I called you dozens of times but you didn’t pick up,” your mother’s words flew through the hall as you and Rafe stepped into the house. “Nothing happened, right?”
“I’m fine, mom,” you muttered softly. “Sober and unharmed.”
“See, darling, I told you she’s fine. She’s a responsible girl,” Ward cut in as his hands sneaked to your mother’s shoulder, softly massaging them.
“So responsible that a guy almost fucked her in front of the whole boneyard,” Rafe cleared his throat, that annoying smirk still evident on his features.
“Rafe,” your mother’s small shriek followed his words, eyes widening at such profanity. She always taught him to respect women, yet here he was, saying things about you like that.
“I was only talking to that guy,” you tried to defend yourself.
“Right,” he mumbled with a low chuckle, “that’s why –.”
“Stop it, Rafe,” Ward remarked, done with his son’s shit. He was getting old for this, and impatient too. “I had enough of this. We’ll talk about this in the morning until then I don’t want to hear a word from you. Good night.”
He only scoffed and made his way up the stairs.
“I said good night!”
“Good night,” Rafe mumbled before he disappeared, a frown tattooed onto his lips.
“I’m sorry for not picking up the phone… I totally forgot about the time,” you apologized, even though you found this whole text–me–every–two–hour rule quite silly.
“It’s fine, darling,” your mother said with a warm smile. “We were just worried about you.”
“I didn’t mean to worry you guys,” you muttered guiltily. You hated to disappoint your parents, but well, some things were just inevitable.
“We know,” Ward sighed. “Just next time remember what we talked about. You are a smart, young woman now. We trust you, just not those boys from The Cut.”
“I know.” You pursed your lips into a thin grin. “I should go to sleep now. Good night.”
“Good night, darling,” your parents’ words followed your movements as you hiked up the stairs, their voices becoming less audible with every taken step.
Once you had reached your rooms, Rafe’s irritated tone hit your ears, halting you in the doorway, “Next time you’re not gonna get away with this.”
“We’ll see about that,” you noted, a tasteless chuckle accompanying your response.
You tried so hard to be nice to him. You did his homework when the two of you were still in school, the chores your mother had assigned to him and you never snitched on him whenever he hurt you.
While your passivity to his cruelty was because you hated confrontation and didn’t want to ruin your mother’s happiness, you also knew how it felt to lose a parent at a young age which made you slightly more empathic towards his actions.
But if he wanted to play like this, then so be it. You were done with his constant accusations.
The morning came sooner than you expected, and you considered staying in bed for a few minutes, but the neon numbers on the clock advised you otherwise. You were supposed to meet Barry in a few hours and you still had a few things to do around the house.
You quickly got ready before you made your way to the kitchen where Sarah was waiting for you, quietly munching on her waffle.
“Hey,” you greeted her as you stepped to the counter and grabbed a glass and a bottle of orange juice. “How was yesterday?”
“Shitty,” she mumbled with a scoff on her lips. “I dumped Topper.”
“I’m sorry,” you sent her a half smile before sitting down next to her at the kitchen island.
While you were older than Sarah by a bit more than three years, she was the one you trusted the most. She was the one you talked to about your girly problems or asked to help you sneak out on school nights, and now as you were nearing twenty, you shared all the wisdom and experience you had gained in your teenage years. You truly felt like she was your sibling by blood, something you couldn’t say about Rafe. Big brothers were supposed to protect their little sisters, but all Rafe did was hurt you.
“It’s fine,” she chuckled softly, “What about you?”
“It was nice,” you stated before taking a sip of the bitter beverage. “Until Rafe didn’t drag me home.”
“I’m not surprised,” her voice was laced with humor, even though she wasn’t joking one bit. It wasn’t the first time he dragged you home. One would think he was jealous of those guys at the parties, but that would have been fucked up. The two of you almost grew up together.
“Me neither, but it would have been nice to have some fun without him ruining it once again,” you sighed as you scrolled through your phone, an Instagram notification popping up in the corner of the screen.
‘You have been tagged by @/sophiwithonlyani,’ the text read and you opened the app, her and your wide smile greeting you on your timeline. ‘missing you, babe’ was written in the description and you commented ‘missing you too’ with an orange heart before closing the app and hiding your phone in your back pocket.
You wanted to say that you were going to see her soon, but you didn’t want to lie. The closer the next semester was, the more you thought about not going back to college. You felt like you were missing out a lot in your family’s life while you were away and it made you realize how alone you really were there. You had friends, really good friends, but they were nothing like the ones from Outer Banks.
“Is everything okay?” Sarah questioned, eyebrows furrowed, slightly worried about the sudden change in your mood.
“Yeah, of course.” You gave her a toothy grin and finished the last drops of your orange juice.
Your mother’s hasty steps filled the house as she stepped into the kitchen with a small piece of paper hiding between her fingers, “Could you girls buy a few things for me? There’s some stuff missing for the party and I still have to deal with grandpa’s company, I’m afraid I won’t have the time.”
“Sure, what do you need?”
“Here’s the list and some money. It should cover everything and two scoops of ice cream too,” she muttered quickly, a deep breath hitching in her throat. “Thanks, darlings.”
She was quick to leave the two of you after pressing a small kiss to your and Sarah’s cheek.
Once Sarah was done with her breakfast, you followed your mother’s movements, only for you to come to halt when you heard Ward’s voice from the balcony, “I also told you to order the generators, didn’t I, Rafe?”
You raised your finger to your lips, motioning Sarah to stay quiet, which she noted with a short nod of her head. You softly strolled closer to the two men with Sarah close to you, making sure that neither of them was able to catch a glimpse of your figures.
“And I did, dad,” he tried to defend himself, yet Ward was having none of it.
“Then where is it, Rafe?” he questioned, even though he knew he wasn’t going to get any sensible answer. “Because the money is missing, but the generators are nowhere to be found.”
“I – I don’t know. There must have been some shortage,” he stumbled over his words, afraid that he was caught up in a lie.
“You know what Rafe? I’m going to act like you are telling the truth, but if the generators won’t be here by Friday, you’re going to pack up your things and leave this house.”
“What?! You can’t do that,” he growled before he pressed his lips into a thin line.
“Watch me Rafe. It’s time to learn responsibility. You’re almost twenty, and all you do is party and hang out with your friends. You don’t work and you don’t study either. Your mother tried to defend you through and through, but this time she won’t.”
“That’s not fair, dad,” he grumbled, a sarcastic chuckle following his words.
“I’m sorry?!”
“It’s just not fair,” he repeated himself. “Y/N doesn’t work either and parties all the time, but I don’t see you have a problem with it.”
Of course he brought you into his bullshit again. He always tried to find a way to shift the blame on you, but most of the time, it was only a futile attempt.
“Because she’s studying.”
“She probably spent more time partying than studying,” he complained with a shake of his head.
“And she is still doing more than you ever did.”
A disgusted laugh erupted from Rafe as he stood up and left his father on the balcony, “I can’t fucking believe him.”
Before Rafe passed you, you both pressed yourselves into the corner, hoping to stay in the shadows without him noticing you. It seemed to work and you swiftly exited the house with her in your heels, a nervous chuckle escaping your lungs once you had reached the car.
“That was close,” you heaved softly as you got into your truck.
“Yeah.” She smirked before following your movements.
Eventually, you and Sarah got every missing item on the list and you were munching away on your ice cream cone, the waffle crunching under your teeth.
“Wanna go home?” you asked.
“Uhm, not yet,” she nervously declined your offer, a shy smile dancing on her features. “I’m meeting with a boy.”
“A boy? Already?” you questioned playfully, after swallowing the last bite of your cold, slightly sour ice cream. You wondered who was the guy that turned her head so quickly. “You sure?”
“Yeah.”
“Alright. Take care and call me if you need a ride,” you offered before you hugged her and strolled to your car.
Before driving home, you took a short detour to Barry. He was already waiting for you with a wide smirk on his face.
“How’s my favorite girl doing?” he asked as he let you in, a bottle of beer resting between his fingers.
“The same as always,” you answered as you followed him inside and took a seat on the old sofa stained with different drinks and foods.
“Usual? Or you feelin’ adventurous?”
“Just the usual.”
He grabbed a pack of weed from the wardrobe before handing it to you. “Unfortunately, I needed to raise my prices. Inflation and all that, you know.”
“But my friends only give me thirty dollars,” you pouted, looking up from under your eyelashes.
“Fuck, okay.” He gave in without giving it much of a thought. “But only because of those pretty eyes.”
Barry always had a soft spot for you, and you would have been lying if you said you didn’t know why. He liked you and he made sure it was obvious to you. Yet, when he learned you were Rafe’s stepsister, he took a step back and rather kept his comments to himself.
“You’re the best,” you smiled at him softly as you handed him the money.
“When are you coming again?”
“Don’t know yet. Depends how much they smoke. I’ll shoot you a message before I come anyway,” you replied and hid the small packet in your pocket and left his house, only to stumble into Rafe on the porch.
‘Fuck.’
“Jesus, what the fuck are you doing here?” he questioned as he grabbed your upper arm, not letting you get away from his wandering gaze.
“None of your business,” you snapped, trying to shake off his hand.
“Fucking hell, Y/N. You seriously doing this shit?”
“Leave me alone, Rafe,” you muttered and pried his fingers off of your arm and made your way to the black vehicle.
“We’ll talk about this at home,” he yelled after you as you got into the car.
You slammed the door shut behind you, your heart filled with anger and irritation. You hated how he treated you, like he had some kind of right to know everything. Like you owed him an explanation for everything you did.
“Whatever,” you muttered to yourself before you drove off, leaving a cloud of dust behind you. “He’s just a guy.”
The moon peeked through your burgundy curtains, casting pale light across your room. The digital clock on your nightstand blinked as you stole a short glance at it.
It was 01:12 AM. A soft sigh left your lips as you turned to your other side and closed your eyes, hoping to fall back asleep. Yet, the creaking of the floor snapped your mind out of its rest and your door opened, revealing Rafe and his disheveled features. You wondered what happened to him, but you rather kept quiet, believing that he’d leave you alone once he thought you were asleep.
However, when his voice reached your ears, every ounce of faith disappeared.
“I know you’re awake,” he mumbled as he closed the door and stepped closer to your bed, his frame towering over you.
Your small groan flew through your room as you pulled your comforter up to your neck like it could protect you.
“What do you want?” you questioned and a yawn followed your frustrated words.
“Are you snorting?” he accused.
“Are you high?” you asked, your eyes narrowing slightly.
“I asked you a fucking question,” he sneered as he knelt on your bed and grabbed your shoulders with a strong grip.
“What the fuck?! No!” you answered, your voice filling with fear. He looked crazed as if he was a man gone wild. His pupils were blown, black orbits taking over the blueish rings around them.
“Then what the fuck were you doing at his place? Did he fuck you? Are you fucking dealing for him?” he asked through gritted teeth, his jaw clenching with each word. You wondered what got him so agitated, and why he didn’t just run with the information that you have drugs stashed between your socks to your parents. Your parents excused a lot of borderline criminalistic tendencies in your behavior, but you knew that having drugs on you wouldn’t be one of them.
“What the fuck do you actually want?” you asked, your voice raising a bit as well.
You tried to fight him off, but his grip only strengthened with each of your movements. You were getting scared. Sure, it wasn’t the first time you had seen him so fucked out of his mind, but normally, during these incidents he left you alone.
“I want you to answer me, Y/N. Is he fucking you?” he spitted the words as if he was disgusted with the thought of another man touching you. Barry wasn’t your type, to be truthful, but why would it bother him this much?
“Eww, no!”
“Good, that’s good,” he mumbled, seemingly calming down. His hold on your shoulders softened a bit too before he completely let you go and left the room quietly.
‘Fuck,’ you whispered under your breath as you ran your hands over your face, your heart beating loudly in your ears. That was… weird, and fucking scary.
The rest of the night went uneventfully, even though you had a pretty hard time falling asleep. This was the first time he had acted like this. Was he jealous or actually concerned if you were using drugs or not? Yet, when you told him that you are not having a sexual relationship with Barry, he didn’t seem to give much fuck about the weed in your room.
In the morning, when you got out of bed and dressed up in some comfortable shorts and a tank top, everyone seemed to be out of the house to deal with their own businesses, except for your mom and Rafe. They were in the garden, tending to the roses and what–nots. It was uncharacteristic of him to be so nice, to help your mother carry around the heavy bags of soil.
“Morning,” you muttered as you approached your mother and your stepbrother.
“Hey there,” your mom greeted you with an infectious smile while Rafe didn’t even bother to look into your direction. It wasn’t surprising. “Can you guess what I heard from Eva?”
Eva was the lady who supplied your mother’s addiction for flowers. Every two weeks, she either bought a few bouquets to decorate the house, or some seedlings to plant.
You shook your head. “What?”
“Emily’s daughter, you used to go to school with her, she’s pregnant. She’s such a hardworking and smart girl. She got accepted to one of the top law schools, and now, she has to drop out because that good–for–nothing boyfriend of hers left her in the dust,” she explained as she dug a small hole in the ground.
“She’s an adult though. If that is what she wants. I mean, to raise a kid alone,” you shrugged. You didn’t really care what happened with Emily’s daughter, Samantha. She came from money, just like you, and her parents were always quite supporting, so she can’t have it that bad. Except, if she didn’t want the child, and couldn’t find it in herself to have an abortion. Yet, the optimistic part of you hoped that she was happy with her decision.
“I know,” your mother noted with a small sigh. “But if it were you, I’d be so disappointed in you. Even more so if the baby’s father was anything like that boy. [...]”
Your mother kept talking about the matter, but you didn’t pay attention to it, not when a smirk seemed to appear on Rafe’s lips as if he had a plan on how to try to put some dirt on you to finally win his father’s approval as the son he always hoped to be.
“Are you listening to me, baby?” your mother looked at you, expecting an answer from you.
“Huh?”
“I forgot to ask yesterday, but your grandpa needs you to deep clean the yacht. Said he’d give you some pocket money too,” she repeated.
“No, it’s fine. I’ll do it for free.”
Your parents already provided you with enough money, you didn’t want to smooch off your grandfather.
“Great, call pa then. He wants to leave some food and drinks in the fridge for you.”
You just nodded before heading to your room to grab your phone and call your grandpa.
On the way inside, you wondered if you should tell your mother about the night. This wasn’t the first time his behavior was a concern, but he had never invaded your privacy like this ever.
But when? Rafe had been home more lately, spending more time with your mother as if he wanted to soften her up.
And how were you supposed to do that without exposing your own ass?
It was already evening by the time you finished cleaning up your grandfather’s yacht. While the yacht itself was pretty small, there were a lot of nooks and crannies that were filled with dust and dirt.
When you were younger, you spent a lot of time on the boat with your grandparents, but then your ma died and your pa was getting older which didn’t help him deal with his grief. Yet, he didn’t have the heart to sell it. Too many memories, he said.
You were in the midst of cleaning the top shelf, wiping down the dust with a wet cloth when you heard someone clear his throat behind you. You turned towards the sound, your body immediately tensing with anxiety and annoyance as you saw who was visiting you.
“What do you want?” you asked Rafe as you threw the now dirty rag on the counter.
“Thought I’d visit you,” he answered with a taunting grin hiding under his nose. He stepped closer to you, placing both of his hands on the counter, trapping you between him and the furniture. Your heart rate quickened as you felt him press against your ass.
There always had been something a bit weird about the way he touched you, but this was the first time he was this forward… this pushy. Like he didn’t think of you as a part of the family, but as a woman. “Help you a bit.”
“Rafe,” you muttered his name out, a knot forming in your throat as you felt him press a small kiss to your neck. “Wh – what are you doing?”
“You know…” he scoffed before biting into his cheek. His fingers sneaked towards your shorts, yet your left hand quickly reacted and wrapped around his wrist, stopping him from pushing down your pants. “Fuck, I have been fantisizing about fucking you for some time.”
“Stop it, please,” you begged as you turned around and tried to push him away without any success. He only got more forceful, grabbing your arms and placing it on the counter. He covered your hands with his, your fingers tangling together in a tight grip.
“Nah, I don’t think I will,” he whispered into your ear before pressing another kiss to your neck, sucking on the sensitive spot.
“Why are you doing this?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” he taunted. “Because I want to fuck you. It doesn’t matter what I do, my father will always be disappointed in me. I might as well do what I want.”
“Please, Rafe,” you pleaded. “Stop it.”
“Shut up, Y/N,” he sneered and one of his hands gripped tightly the roots of your hair, pulling your head back. “If you do what I say I’ll make sure you enjoy this as much as I am.”
“You are fucking sick in the head!” you sneered, attempting to fight your way out of his grasp. Your gaze hazed as the salty tears welled up in the corners of your eyes. You were trapped with him of all people. He wanted nothing but to see your life ruined. That much you were sure about.
He tightened his grip on your head, pulling on the roots. The pain was almost unbearable, and your efforts to escape this situation only made it worse. “Rafe, please, let me go,” you begged as the tears finally escaped, trickling down your cheeks, leaving a wet trail on the burning skin. You no longer felt anger, but fear.
“If you do what I say I’ll make sure you enjoy this as much as I am,” he repeated his words. “Is that clear?”
“Clear,” you croaked as an oppressed sob left your lips.
“Then stop crying,” he snapped before he finally let go of your hair.
His finger slowly crept inside your shorts, caressing the soft spot through the thin fabric of your panties. His touch was confident, but gentle enough to be pleasurable.
Small whimpers escaped your mouth as he applied a bit more pressure on your clit, drawing circles on the sensitive nub. You pushed your thighs together as a knot formed in your stomach due to the sensation. You hated that you craved his fingers inside your pussy.
When Rafe felt the material dampen under his touch, he unbuttoned your shorts and pulled them down with your panties. The discarded pieces of clothing pooled around your legs, yet neither of you paid any more attention to them.
“Fuck,” he groaned, once he touched you again, your panties no longer in the way. He pushed two of his fingers inside your pussy, the sudden stretch earning a lewd moan from you. The movements of his digits were slow at first, but with every second it got a bit more quicker.
“Rafe,” you moaned his name as your own fingers reached to your clit, and massaged it with the pad of your index finger.
“Such a good girl,” he muttered as he kept his fingers inside you, the silky walls tightening around his digits with each motion. But he didn’t let you come, he pulled them out before licking them clean.
The tangy taste spread across his tongue, and he couldn’t get enough of it… He couldn’t get enough of you. He wasn’t high, yet he felt close to the drug–induced euphoria he was used to. However, this one was different. It was more intoxicating.
He was haste as he unbuttoned and unzipped his pants before pulling down the garment and his boxers in the same movement. He was about to do it. He was about to fuck you. He couldn’t believe it.
“I’m not on the pill,” you heaved, trying to catch your breath.
Normally, Rafe would rather just not have sex once he heard these words, but not this time. Not only he got to fuck you raw, but nothing could really stop him from achieving his goals. He was going to get you pregnant one way or another. He couldn’t wait to see disappointment on your parents’ face when you tell them you are expecting.
“It’s okay. I’ll pull out,” he lied as he entered your pussy with a firm motion of his hips, your soft moan following his movements. He waited a bit before he started moving, going deeper with each thrust. You leaned your back against his chest and one of his hands wrapped around your neck in a gentle hold. There was no pressure in his touch.
His other crept under your shirt and his fingertips ran over your breasts, your nipples hardening at the motion. His hold tensed around your chest as he was getting closer to his high, gripping it tightly between his fingers. A small wail escaped your lungs at the sudden pain.
“Shhh,” he cooed as his grip loosened on your tits, temporarily stopping his movements. “Put your hands on the counter, pretty girl.”
You did as he asked and placed your palms on the smooth surface. After you steadied yourself, Rafe started to move his hips, quickly picking up the pace once again. His hips slapped against your ass, the sound of the meeting flesh filling the small cabin of the yacht.
“You are so damned hot,” he growled as his fingers only dug deeper into your skin, keeping you in place. “I’m gonna cum.”
“Pull out, please,” you whimpered. “Rafe, please!”
“Not gonna happen,” he snickered, low moans following his words.
“What?” you whimpered, his answer not registering in your mind immediately.
“Just enjoy it.”
His pace slowed down and his thrusts became deliberate motions before he reached his high and cummed inside you with a guttural groan. Yet, his movements didn’t stop, not until he felt your walls let go off his cock. With a moan, you wished to swallow instead, you came around him. After a few seconds, he finally pulled out of you.
“You said you’d pull out,” you muttered. Shame crept into your heart as you looked down at your panties on the floor, wet with your own juices. You picked up the thin material and pulled it over your ass while Rafe mirrored your movements and got dressed as well.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said with a mocking sweetness lacing his words as he grabbed your jaw firmly. He wiped away the tears from your cheeks with the pad of his thumb before continuing, “I’ll be right there when you tell my father and your mother the news of your pregnancy.”
That was when it all dawned on you. This was him getting back at you.
‘But if it were you, I’d be so disappointed in you,’ your mother’s words rang in your ears.
You were an adult now, so he no longer was able to get you into trouble by telling your parents about the parties you sneaked out to, the hidden half–drank vodka bottles under your bed or the boys you kissed. He needed to find something that would still disappoint your mother, and he found it. An unplanned pregnancy.
All those times, he only helped your mother to get her on his side.
“You fucking piece of shit,” you cursed as you hit his chest repeatedly. However, he seemed unfazed by your outburst, a taunting smirk gracing his features.
Before he grabbed both of your wrists into a tight hold, he impatiently waited for you to get your anger out. “Are you done with your tantrum?”
“Fuck you,” you spitted the words at him.
He only pulled you closer to him and tightened his fingers around your lower arms. “I asked if you are done. Or do you want to walk home while your pussy is full with my cum? Because I’m not gonna wait for you to finish up your hissy fit.”
You swallowed thickly before answering, “I’m done.”
The last thing you wanted was to be in the same car as him, however, it still seemed to be the better option than walking home while you were in a state like this.
The car ride home was quiet, filled with tension that nothing could have gotten rid of. He didn’t talk to you nor touched you which you were thankful for. Yet, understandably, you couldn’t wait to get home, and once you did, you didn’t stop until you reached your bathroom.
You stood under the scalding hot water for what felt like forever, trying to scrub away the humiliation Rafe left behind. Even when your skin was burning, you couldn’t stop thinking about what he did to you. The smell of his cologne was still lingering in your nostrils, and you wondered if you could ever forget it.
You didn’t sleep that much during the night either, mostly because you didn’t dare to fall asleep. You needed to buy a Plan B fast. But by the time you got home the only pharmacy nearby was already closed as it was a Sunday night. So you decided that the first thing first in the morning is going to be a quick visit to the nearest one. However, your plan fell apart when your mother informed you that Ward has taken her car and Rafe has his father’s.
“You can call him, and tell him what you need. I’m sure he would help you out,” your mother mentioned.
“No,” you quickly retorted with a force that even surprised you.
“Is everything alright, darling?” she asked, her eyebrows raising at your vehement denial.
“Yeah. Just… It’s a really specific thing I need, and I’m not sure Ward would find it,” you explained. Your hands were shaking and your palms were getting clammy. You could have sworn you felt a small drop of sweat gliding down your temple.
“You are lying to me, Y/N. I’m going to ask you once again if everything is alright, and give you a chance to be honest with me. I can see something is not okay, but I can’t help you if you don’t tell me the truth. So, is everything alright?”
You opened your mouth to answer, then closed it. What were you even supposed to say?
“No, mom,” you answered truthfully as hot and salty tears formed in your eyes. “Nothing’s fucking okay… I… Rafe and I… I…”
“What happened, baby?” she questioned as she stepped closer to you, pulling you into a motherly hug. You felt safe in her arms, even though you knew that the worst was about to come. “What did you and Rafe do?”
“I…” you try to fight the sobs that are threatening to escape your lungs.
“I got what you wanted,” Rafe announced and your body tensed at hearing him approaching the kitchen with a bag of groceries in his hand. Your mother only gestured to him with a wave of her hand to keep his voice low. “What happened?”
How the fuck were you supposed to tell her now?
“She said you and her did something,” she noted, looking at her stepson expectedly. “What did you two do?”
You can’t tell her. You can’t look into her eyes, and tell her. If you tell her what happened, it will make everything feel even more real. You can’t face the truth, not yet.
“We accidentally broke an expensive bottle of whiskey on the yacht,” he lied.
“Oh, love, no need to cry over that,” your mother cooed as she hugged you a bit closer to his chest. “I don’t think your pa even remembers that bottle of whiskey. Why don’t you calm down and clean up a bit, hm? I’m sure Rafe would take you wherever you have to go.”
You knew he wouldn’t. Not unless he was able to find a way to twist it into something worse. You just hoped Ward would get back before the pharmacy closed.
series summary: the perfect summer quickly turns into an avalanche of unfortunate events when you and your friends try to blackmail Rafe Cameron.
chapter warnings: choking; harassment; blood.
links:
➱ gif
➱ series masterlist
WHEN you woke up the next day, you felt refreshed, like you actually had a good night’s sleep. Your Rafe problem seemed to be solved, even if a small part of you wasn’t entirely sure that he’d leave you alone. Yet, you couldn’t dwell much on the future as Midsummers was only an hour away and you still had to get ready for it. While serving drinks for rich assholes with superiority complexes was the last thing you wanted to do, it paid more than you made in a day, so you couldn’t pass out on such an offer. You only hoped that Rafe would keep his mouth shut and his hands off you.
You took a quick shower before you put on your uniform. The thin shirt barely covered your neck, however, at least the skirt was long enough to not give any ideas to a particular asshole. Once the black tie was in its place you grabbed your bag and made your way to the kitchen where your father was fixing up seemingly some motorbike parts.
“Ready?” he asked as he removed his glasses and placed them on the counter.
“Yes, Captain,” you muttered as you strolled to the bowl where your family kept their keys. You quickly fished out the car key and passed it to your father. His fingers hastily hugged it around and softly shoved your shoulders, guiding you towards the car.
Before he left the house, a low yell escaped his lips, warning your brother that he was going to be back soon. Once you were out in the front yard, you stepped to the car and got into it. You made yourself comfortable in the passenger’s seat as the engine roared up, a relieved sigh leaving your lips as the motor came to life. At least the night was starting on a good note, even if the knot that formed in your stomach hours ago seemed to grow every passing second.
The ride seemed too short for your liking. You hoped you could have stayed a few more minutes in your father’s safe company, however, he softly nudged you, signaling that you should indeed get out of the car if you wanted to get that hundred dollars.
“Do you want me to pick you up?” he questioned as you opened the door and stepped onto the gravel, the small pebbles crunching under your beat-up sneakers.
“Yes, please,” you muttered as your eyes kept wandering over the Country Club, a few of your colleagues already serving the guests that arrived earlier than they should have. “I should be done around two.”
“See you soon then. Good luck, pumpkin,” he smiled at you before driving off. You sent one last wave to him and made your way into the clubhouse.
Once you had reached the kitchen, a tray full of expensive drinks was pushed into your hands, the beverages slightly splashing out due to the force that hit the tray. You were used to the buzzing kitchen and the hurrying staff, but still, you thought it would be a little calmer. Or maybe, you just hoped for somebody to tell you what to do. It wasn’t like you were clueless, but did nobody really care what you were doing here, or if you were really a part of the staff.
After you realized that you weren’t getting any instructions unless you had asked for one yourself, you stepped outside with the tray in your hands and strolled closer to the guests, offering a glass of alcohol from time to time. It was nice for the most part, there weren’t any rude remarks or an entitled, demanding asshole and you naively hoped that it would be like this until the end of the night.
It was foolish, you knew. Even when you caught a glimpse of Rafe in his light blue tuxedo, you kept hoping that he would spare you, and he did for a short while.
“Y/N,” Sarah’s cheerful voice hit your ears and you span around with a small smile on your lips. “It’s good to see you. I was worried about you.”
“I could say the same,” you muttered as your ears perked when you heard somebody calling your name. You thought it was Rafe. Yet, when Sarah didn’t react, you realized that you were just imagining it.
“Yeah, sorry about that,” she cleared her thought before quietly adding, “Rafe broke my phone and I have been waiting for a new one.”
So that was the reason why she went basically MIA, and it also confirmed everything you had suspected.
You kept chatting with her until Topper had reached the two of you and asked for Sarah to talk to him. You didn’t know what he did, but he was desperate. You had never seen a man beg like this for attention. It was almost comical and pathetic too.
But who were you to judge a Kook?
“I’ll go and talk to him,” she sighed softly. She was fed up for sure.
“See you around then,” you said with a small pout, even though you knew that it was the last time you had seen her for the night.
She only smiled at you before giving you a short wave and leaving you with the company of the sparkling drinks.
🌤️
The night quickly went on without any bigger problems and you were thankful for that. The guests slowly started to leave, only a few Kooks lingering around. While the crowd hid you well enough from his gaze, it was nice to finally hear your own thoughts.
You were cleaning the tables when you felt somebody’s presence behind you, their eyes following your every moment. You didn’t have to guess to know who they were. They made themselves known without asking.
“Wondered when can I get you alone,” he hummed as he pushed himself closer to you, trapping you between him and the table.
His breath was hot against your skin, yet it still sent shivers down your spine. Your fingers were trembling as you kept placing the empty glasses on the tray.
“What do you want, Rafe?” you asked, your body freezing on the spot as his hands sneaked to your hips. His fingertips roughly cut into your skin, your heartbeat quickening.
“I was thinking about something,” he muttered into your ears as his fingers danced along the hem of your skirt. You were hoping that nobody had really seen you and Rafe, but you knew it was foolish of you. “I hate to see you working this fucking hard, so I have a deal for you.”
He must have been waiting for you to say something but as you didn’t, he quickly continued with a small sigh.
“You suck me off tonight and I’ll let you keep the money you stole from me... and I might even give you a few dollars, depending on how good that mouth is.”
A disgusted scoff escaped from your mouth as you pushed him away from you. This time he only stumbled a little bit, however, he was able to regain his balance.
“You are fucking disgusting,” you muttered angrily and grabbed the tray crowded with empty wine glasses.
“Alright then,” he smirked as he bit into his lips. His reaction made you queasy. There was no way he took your rejection this well. He was planning something and you were sure that it involved you in a way that made you regret ever messing with him.
You turned to leave, yet when you took a step, your legs got tangled together and you fell, the tray in your hands dropping to the floor. The glasses broke as they hit the ground and a desperate sob left your lungs. That asshole tripped you and as you looked back you could see a cruel smile dancing on his lips. It was all too familiar.
“Fuck,” Hailey, the girl you were working with, cursed as she ran over to you and carefully helped you up. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” you muttered shamefully. You were probably the most interesting person at the clubhouse right now. At least those obnoxious dicks had something to chew on. You already knew the shit you were going to get from your boss, and if it wasn’t enough he probably wasn’t going to pay you after the damage you caused.
You tried to put the bigger pieces of glass back onto the tray, yet your trembling fingers couldn’t grasp the shard, resulting in a deeper cut on your palm. Blood slowly oozed out from the gash as a set of curses left your mouth.
She swiftly grabbed your wrist before inspecting the split skin on your hand.
“It doesn’t seem to need stitches. There’s a first aid kit in the restroom,” Hailey instructed with a small smile. “Go take care of it while I clean this up.”
“Thank you,” you mirrored the twitch of her features before making your way to the restroom.
You quickly found the kit in the restroom and placed it on the counter. You let the water clean the wound and wash off the blood before you dried your skin with a relatively clean towel. Once you were sure your hand was dry, you grabbed the antiseptic cream and poured some onto the cotton pad. You reckoned it was better than spilling it onto your skin directly. However, when you placed the cotton pad onto your palm, you quickly realized that it didn’t matter much, and it probably hurt the same.
You had already bandaged your hand when the door opened once again, revealing Rafe. He didn’t seem to mind the fact that he was in the women’s restroom. It wasn’t like it actually mattered to him, it was only you there and to him that meant no rules.
You tried to leave and sneak past, however, he roughly grabbed you and pushed you back against the counter.
“You know I’m trying to be nice to you, Pogue,” he muttered as his fingers sneaked to your neck and grasped it. A groan left your lips at the sudden touch. “But you are making it so damn hard.”
His grip on your neck started to tighten as tears flooded your eyes. You were desperately trying to fight him off, earning a chuckle from him. Your suffering amused him. He enjoyed seeing the pain in your gaze, and the fact that he was the one causing it, turned him on even more.
“Rafe, please, stop. You’re hurting me,” you pleaded as your hands were trying to pry his fingers off your neck without any success. While this time, he wasn’t as aggressive as he was on the pier, his touch was still rough against the sensitive area.
“The thing is, Y/N, I don’t care, just like how you didn’t care about stealing from me,” he spoke.
“How many fucking times do I have to tell you that I’m gonna give you the money back tomorrow?” you cried out, an angry tear running down your heated cheek.
“Don’t be like this,” he softly cooed as he let go of your neck and wiped the tear off your face. “I think it’s understandable if I’m a little distrustful. We are talking about you. A Kook turned Pogue with no money who is barely scraping by. For all I know, you’ll fuck off in the middle of the night with your dirty friends and I’m left here with no money… But you know what? I’m gonna trust that pretty face of yours. I mean I’m sure you know what will happen if you fuck me over.”
“Yeah, I know,” you lowly grumbled.
“Great,” he smirked. “Get the money in the morning, we’ll have things to do in the afternoon.”
“What?” you questioned. You were confused. What did he want to do with you? He didn’t say anything about it before. It didn’t surprise you though. In those few days you had known him, you quickly realized that he wasn’t a lawful player.
“Well, somebody has to tell Barry why I was late with the money,” he explained as he turned to the door but he advised you one more thing before leaving, “wear something pretty. It might help me get away with this shit.”
A few seconds later, you followed his movements and left the restroom, only to meet Hailey in the hallway.
“The party is ending soon, so they told us to start packing up,” she stated and you made your way to the others.
The rest of the night went on quickly. After you helped clean the tables and pack the decorations, you were finally done with the day. While waitressing wasn’t the worst job you ever had, it was tiring and kind of boring too. However, seeing the hundred dollars in the white envelope woke you up in an instant. You were scared that your boss would deduct your money, but he either didn’t get the memo of your accident or he didn’t care.
A car slowed down beside you as you waited in front of the clubhouse, only to see your father behind the wheel and your little brother in the passenger’s seat. A tired sigh left your lips as you realized that you had to sit in the back. The seats were uncomfortable there and you barely had enough space for your legs.
You quickly got into the car and put the envelope in your bag.
“How was your night?” Alex asked as he turned sideways to look at you.
“It was nice,” you shortly answered before ruffling his hair. “What are you doing here, little man?”
“I wasn’t going to let him stay alone at night after that incident,” your father had grumbled as he turned around with the car and left the parking of the clubhouse.
Right, the incident… Your brother had sneaked out a few weeks ago to hang out with his friends after your father had said no, however, Peterkin had caught him on the street and brought him home. At this point, she was almost family.
The rest of the drive was filled with mostly small chatter and low giggles as your little brother tried to tell some jokes he learned.
For the first time in the past few days, you finally felt relieved. You only had to survive tomorrow and you were free from him. You had completed your part of the bargain.
The only problem was that Rafe didn’t play by the rules.
series summary: the perfect summer quickly turns into an avalanche of unfortunate events when you and your friends try to blackmail Rafe Cameron.
chapter warnings: a short paragraph about sex.
this chapter is more of a filler (and the next one too, probably) before things go down.
links:
➱ divider i | (@/firefly-graphics) | gif
➱ series masterlist
RAFE didn’t sleep well that night. Not because of what he did, but more because of what Barry would do to him once he realized that he wasn’t able to pay.
He didn’t mind scaring you. You had a relatively peaceful life until your mom died, but well, at least your father did love you, so what was the harm in making your life a little bit more exciting?
Exciting…
It probably wasn’t the right word, however, he didn’t care. Why would he? He wasn’t some smartass with a Ph.D. He didn’t need to be one. He had his father’s money and his mother’s charm. He had everything for a successful life. Good looks, a mansion, and now he had a girl too. While it was questionable if you were really his girl or not, he knew he was going to get you. There was no way you could make two thousand dollars with legal work, and he was sure you weren’t going to suck other Kooks’ dicks for a few papers, or at least he hoped so.
He had to have you first and even if you were able to cough up the money, he wasn’t going to stop, not anymore.
The past few hours he had been fantasizing about you. Getting you high and fucking you until you were a whimpering mess without a sober thought. His mind was getting hazy as he imagined your breasts between his hands, your cum around his lips and your ass against his abdomen. He was hard already, the mere of your body colliding with his sent every drop of blood to his dick.
Sometimes he wondered what would it be like losing his virginity to you. He used to daydream about it. He would have asked you to be his date for prom, and you would have agreed but with a little nudging and Topper’s help. He might have been a pussy in Rafe’s eyes, but he did know how to talk pretty to women. After prom, he would have taken you to some fancy restaurant where he would have asked you to be his girlfriend. You would have said yes. And the night before college he would have made love to you.
Love, a humorless chuckle left his lips at the thought. As a sixteen years old he was thinking of tender sex. Nowadays, it was more fucking and less lovey-dovey shit. He had grown up and all the anger he had in his heart exploded. He was capable of loving though. He probably could have loved you… but love was boring, and seeing the fear in your eyes as he choked you was so much more thrilling.
He was curious if his fingers were imprinted on your skin. In a way, it was a mark of his ownership over you because well, he did own you... at least until you didn’t get his money back.
Fuck, what he wouldn’t have given just to see your harshly decorated skin. If he remembered correctly you were working at The Wreck today. He might as well take a short trip to the diner. He was getting bored in the house anyway.
🌤️
It was seconds away from two o’clock in the afternoon. Your black t-shirt was stained by sweat and oil. These times at The Wreck were always hectic, but today it seemed to be even worse. You were getting dizzy and you were barely able to catch a breath. Maybe the short-sleeved turtleneck was a bad idea, but at least it hid Rafe’s fingerprints. Your bruised knees were already hard to explain.
“You have a new one at table four,” Kiara noted as you looked to the corner. Your heart filled with dread as your eyes fall upon his figure. He was on his phone, his lips slightly moving with every tap of his fingers.
“Fuck,” you cursed as you grabbed your notepad and pencil.
“You okay?” she questioned, her eyebrows furrowed.
“Yeah,” you lied, a sigh escaping from your mouth. You were far from okay. You wondered if you should tell what happened to you, but you were scared. You didn’t want anything to happen to her, or to the Pogues. You knew she wouldn’t leave it alone, even if you were crying your eyes out, begging her not to do anything.
While he probably wasn’t going to cause any trouble in front of an audience, you would rather avoid him. His words could cause enough problems.
“I can take it,” she offered with a slight smile which you returned swiftly. She probably knew something was going on. She asked about the small wounds on your legs, but you quickly disregarded her concern with a small shake of your head and said you were only playing with your little brother. “Rest a little bit, okay?
“Thanks,” you muttered as you took off your apron and you stepped outside the restaurant. While the air was humid and hot, it was still better than the kitchen, even if the smell of fried fish seemed to follow you around.
It wasn’t long before Kie’s voice hit your ears, making you look up from your lap. It seemed to be way more interesting than it was ever before.
“He wants you,” she mumbled as she crossed her arms with a slight pout.
“Great,” you ironically chuckled before standing up and making your way back to the back of the restaurant. Kie was quick in your steps as she kept close to you.
“Does he know?” she lowly asked as she grabbed onto your upper arm, her eyes widening as the realization hit her.
You didn’t know if you should lie or tell the truth. There wasn’t much she could do to help you… if anything it would make everything worse.
“I… I don’t know,” you answered after putting your apron back on.
You left her behind and strolled to table four where your torturer was waiting for you.
“What can I get you?” you say as he looked up from the menu, eyes boring onto your neck, hidden behind a soft material. He was disappointed, but well, those marks were going to be there for longer than a few days and he couldn’t wait to make fresher ones.
“A coke, please,” he smiled softly at you and you couldn’t help but cringe at his movements.
“I’ll be back soon,” you muttered, your words laced with venom. At least you got off the hook easily.
You went back to the fridges and grabbed a bottle, the little devilish voice in your head repeating one sentence: shake it up. It would have been fun but you knew that his revenge would a thousand times worse.
He was that kind of a man. If you threw a plush toy at him, he would throw a fucking rock back at you.
You made your way back to his table and softly placed the soda in front of him, “Here’s your order.”
His fingers fished out a fifty-dollar bill, his eyes cheekily resting on your tired features, “Keep the change. We both know you need it.”
A tasteless chuckle left your lips, “Fuck you, Rafe.”
“Oh, I will,” he smirked before grabbing his coke and leaving the restaurant. You snatched the money up from the table before making your way back to the counter. The green paper crumpling between your fingers.
“Is everything okay?” Kiara walked up to you, her eyes scanning the diner. A small and relieved sigh left her lips when she saw that Rafe was no longer there.
“Yeah,” you lied as you cast your eyes onto her. “He was just being a dick.”
“Nothing new then,” she presses her lips together, eyebrows furrowed. She probably didn’t believe you, but you couldn’t blame her. You wouldn’t have believed yourself either.
“Nope,” you muttered before your eyes wandered to the clock on the wall. 14:10. Your shift was done. You quickly untied your apron and placed it on one of the shelves before turning to your friend, “I need to go home now and take Alex to practice. See you at The Chateau?”
“Yes, of course.”
After you dropped your brother off at his football practice, you made your way back home in hopes to be able to freshen up before seeing your friends at John B.’s house.
As you took your shirt off you stole a quick glance at your reflection in the mirror. Your neck was decorated with purple and black hues, the print of his fingers deeply burned into the flesh. It looked worse than yesterday. You wondered how long will it take for that constant reminder to disappear. Probably a good few weeks, however, judging by the pressure he put on your throat it could be even months.
A frustrated sigh left your lips as you stepped under the shower. The cold water cooling down your heated skin. You stood for a few minutes, letting the droplets run down your body.
You were fucked… literally. There was no way you were able to get that much money in such a short time. Even if the others could help you out, you didn’t see much chance for him to stop. He would find other ways to torment you. And now that he knew you would steal from him, you were sure, he wouldn’t leave you out of the fun.
You needed to tell your friends and come up with an idea because the last thing you wanted was to have sex with him.
You hastily washed and dried yourself before putting on another turtleneck with a short sleeve and a pair of light-wash bermuda shorts.
Once you were ready, you made your way to The Chateau where your friends were waiting for you, except for Sarah. While the two of you weren’t best friends, you were worried for her. Her phone was dead and she was MIA. You hoped at least John B. had a slight idea where his potential girlfriend was.
“Hey, guys,” you greeted them as you sat on the couch. It had seen better days, way better ones. It was decorated by dark patches - probably beverages that couldn’t stay still in their glasses - and deep scratches that were done by some cats.
“Hey.”
“Have you heard something from Sarah?” you questioned as you looked around, hoping for an answer.
“She actually just left,” Kiara told you. “Said her dad needed her or something.”
You only nodded. At least Sarah was fine.
“You okay? You look like shit,” JJ noted kindly as he sat down across from you, the wooden railing slightly creaking under his weight.
You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out. How were you supposed to break the news? Should you show them your neck? Should you tell them what he told you?
“Rafe knows,” you muttered. Straight to the point.
“What?” Pope asked, disbelief in his word.
“How?” came another question from John B.
“Shit,” Kiara breathed out. She seemed to be the only one who accepted it just like that. She was probably already suspicious of Rafe when he visited you. She just needed to hear it from your mouth.
“I don’t --. Fuck,” you sighed as you remembered the text you had sent her. He must have seen it, but that still didn’t explain why she never answered you. “I lost my bracelet in his room, and I sent Sarah a text asking her to try to look for it. I guess he saw the text on Sarah’s phone…”
“And?” Kiara’s voice hit your ears.
“… and then the same day I met with him and he told me that Sarah wants to meet with me at the pier. I thought it was weird. I mean why would she want to meet with me at the pier? But I didn’t care, I wanted my bracelet back. So I went to the pier to meet Sarah, and she wasn’t there, but Rafe was. He told me to get back the money or I’m fucked.”
“And?” Kie once again pressed for more details.
“… and then nothing. I went home.”
“Don’t lie, Y/N,” she scoffed, not believing you. You already lied to her at work and she was done with your shit. “He did something, didn’t he? Those bruises on your knees...”
“He just pushed me and I fell,” you kept lying. You wanted to spare them the fact he almost killed you. The last thing you needed was for them to try going after Rafe. It would just make everything worse and you were already deep enough shit as it was.
“What now?” John B. asked his eyes darting around, finally stopping on Kiara. He was waiting for her to find a solution.
“We give him the money back,” you declared, hoping that JJ didn’t come up with another great plan.
“How?”
“There’s still three hundred dollars from the money we stole. I have a hundred dollars in savings and I’m gonna get paid on Wednesday which is another five-hundred dollars and then another hundred dollars for Midsommar. That’s a thousand dollars,” you noted.
“Hold up…What if you don’t pay it back?” JJ cut in, his question flying through the air.
“I don’t know, JJ,” you lied once again, shame slowly creeping onto your mind. You felt bad, they were your friends after all, but was there even a good way to tell them what he wanted from you? “and I don’t wanna find out… I’m gonna pay back the money and then we’ll act like nothing happened. Sooo... anybody wants to help me out?”
“I want to,” Pope was the first to offer you help. “Pogues help Pogues, don’t they?”
“Yep,” John B. agreed as he extended his arm, his palm facing the floor. “Pogues for life?”
“Pogues for life,” you and your friends repeated his words, your hand meeting with theirs in the center of the circle you formed.
Maybe things were going to end well.
How naïve you were to think that…
end of chapter 3.
if you liked this, please, consider leaving a comment or an anon ask... it means more to me than a like or reblog (even though reblogs are deeply appreciated).
rafe request: reader and rafe are a couple ro something but she knows he and sofia have been with eachother so at the party she gets jealous, angst -> smut -> fluff <3
“C’mon, don’t be like this.”
“Leave me alone, Rafe.”
“Not until you talk to me.”
“I don’t wanna talk to you.”
This had been going on for the better part of the last half an hour. The party was still thriving downstairs, most guests oblivious to the tension just a few floors above them but more than enough saw the way you stormed up over thirty minutes ago, with Rafe Cameron quickly following you.
Things with Rafe had been…complicated, to say the best. There weren’t really labels or talks of exclusivity, but there was a mutual understanding that it was just you two for the last few weeks since you had started whatever game it was going on between you.
Or at least you assumed it was mutual. That was until you walked into the party to see some pogue waitress—Sofia, you believed her name was—all over him and Rafe doing nothing to put a stop to it. The whispers of them hooking up in the past told you more than you needed to know before you were storming upstairs, ignoring the way the blond was calling your name behind you.
“What are you doing?” Rafe asked as he stood in the doorway, watching you with furrowed eyebrows.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” you snapped back, not even bothering to look at him as you continued to shove clothes and other belongings you had left around his room into a duffel bag.
“Hey, hey,” he was quick to move towards the bed, pulling the duffel bag away from you. “What the fuck?”
“I don’t wanna hear it,” you hissed at him, reaching for your bag and growling when he pulled it away from your reach. “Go have fun with your little waitress, I’m not really in the mood to be made a fool of.”
Rafe paused. “It’s not like that—”
“Oh, so she wasn’t two seconds away from sucking your dick in front of everyone?” you retorted with raised brows.
“I don’t care about her,” Rafe said with a sigh. “Not like I care about you.”
“You fucked her,” you stated bluntly.
“And now I only fuck you,” Rafe said as he stepped around the bed, hands finding your waist as he tugged you closer to him despite the fact you tried to pull away from him. “I promise, baby, it’s just you.”
Your eyes narrowed. “Do you really think I’m dumb enough to believe that? She was all over you, Rafe, and you didn’t stop her!”
“I know, I know,” Rafe murmured as he ducked his head down to meet your gaze. “And I’m sorry, okay? I should’ve thought about how that would make you feel.”
“Yeah, would you like it if I had a guy all over me? Some dude I fucked a few times?”
Rafe’s eyes darkened, hands tightening their grip on your waist. “No. No, I fucking wouldn’t.”
“Exactly,” you grumbled and tried to move out of his hold but Rafe didn’t let you, instead making you walk back until you hit the wall. “Let me go, Rafe.”
“I can’t do that, baby,” he murmured as his head dipped down, pressing soft kisses along your neck. “I’m sorry. Please forgive me.”
“How do I know you won’t do it again?” you gritted your teeth together. “How do I know you aren’t fucking her?”
“I’m not. I wouldn’t,” Rafe said against your skin, hands already pushing the fabric of your tank up so he could touch the bare skin of your stomach. “Don’t wanna fuck anybody but you.”
You let out a laugh.
“I mean it, baby, I’m gonna prove it to you,” he whispered as he slowly kneeled down in front of you, hands on the back of your thighs as he stared up at you. “You’re it for me, princess. Just me and you.”
“Is that what you said to Sofia too?” you remarked, unable to hide the bitter tone of your voice.
“No, those words are just for you,” Rafe told you, eyes never leaving yours as he spoke.
He didn’t look away as his fingers found the button of your shorts and quickly undid them. He didn’t look away as he tugged your panties down your legs and threw them somewhere behind him. He didn’t look away as he hiked one of your legs over his shoulder, pressing kisses along your inner thighs before his mouth latched onto your cunt.
“You’re it f’me,” he murmured against you, tongue lapping along your slit as you let out a shaky breath. “You’re the only girl for me.”
“Rafe,” you choked out when his lips wrapped around your clit and sucked.
His hands squeezed your ass, pulling you closer towards him as you shook and squirmed under his touch. He let out a small groan as you began to chant his name, ringed fingers slowly pushing into you as you rolled your hips against his face. He didn’t let you go even after you came all over his face, loving the way you sobbed his name as you tried to wiggle away from him.
Rafe Cameron was fucking obsessed with you and he would be damned if he would let you get away.
“My pretty girl,” he muttered as he pressed a kiss on your sensitive clit, smiling softly at the whine you let out. “Not letting you leave this room until you believe me.”
series summary: the perfect summer quickly turns into an avalanche of unfortunate events when you and your friends try to blackmail Rafe Cameron.
chapter warnings: a short paragraph about sex.
this chapter is more of a filler (and the next one too, probably) before things go down.
links:
➱ divider i | (@/firefly-graphics) | gif
➱ series masterlist
RAFE didn’t sleep well that night. Not because of what he did, but more because of what Barry would do to him once he realized that he wasn’t able to pay.
He didn’t mind scaring you. You had a relatively peaceful life until your mom died, but well, at least your father did love you, so what was the harm in making your life a little bit more exciting?
Exciting…
It probably wasn’t the right word, however, he didn’t care. Why would he? He wasn’t some smartass with a Ph.D. He didn’t need to be one. He had his father’s money and his mother’s charm. He had everything for a successful life. Good looks, a mansion, and now he had a girl too. While it was questionable if you were really his girl or not, he knew he was going to get you. There was no way you could make two thousand dollars with legal work, and he was sure you weren’t going to suck other Kooks’ dicks for a few papers, or at least he hoped so.
He had to have you first and even if you were able to cough up the money, he wasn’t going to stop, not anymore.
The past few hours he had been fantasizing about you. Getting you high and fucking you until you were a whimpering mess without a sober thought. His mind was getting hazy as he imagined your breasts between his hands, your cum around his lips and your ass against his abdomen. He was hard already, the mere of your body colliding with his sent every drop of blood to his dick.
Sometimes he wondered what would it be like losing his virginity to you. He used to daydream about it. He would have asked you to be his date for prom, and you would have agreed but with a little nudging and Topper’s help. He might have been a pussy in Rafe’s eyes, but he did know how to talk pretty to women. After prom, he would have taken you to some fancy restaurant where he would have asked you to be his girlfriend. You would have said yes. And the night before college he would have made love to you.
Love, a humorless chuckle left his lips at the thought. As a sixteen years old he was thinking of tender sex. Nowadays, it was more fucking and less lovey-dovey shit. He had grown up and all the anger he had in his heart exploded. He was capable of loving though. He probably could have loved you… but love was boring, and seeing the fear in your eyes as he choked you was so much more thrilling.
He was curious if his fingers were imprinted on your skin. In a way, it was a mark of his ownership over you because well, he did own you... at least until you didn’t get his money back.
Fuck, what he wouldn’t have given just to see your harshly decorated skin. If he remembered correctly you were working at The Wreck today. He might as well take a short trip to the diner. He was getting bored in the house anyway.
🌤️
It was seconds away from two o’clock in the afternoon. Your black t-shirt was stained by sweat and oil. These times at The Wreck were always hectic, but today it seemed to be even worse. You were getting dizzy and you were barely able to catch a breath. Maybe the short-sleeved turtleneck was a bad idea, but at least it hid Rafe’s fingerprints. Your bruised knees were already hard to explain.
“You have a new one at table four,” Kiara noted as you looked to the corner. Your heart filled with dread as your eyes fall upon his figure. He was on his phone, his lips slightly moving with every tap of his fingers.
“Fuck,” you cursed as you grabbed your notepad and pencil.
“You okay?” she questioned, her eyebrows furrowed.
“Yeah,” you lied, a sigh escaping from your mouth. You were far from okay. You wondered if you should tell what happened to you, but you were scared. You didn’t want anything to happen to her, or to the Pogues. You knew she wouldn’t leave it alone, even if you were crying your eyes out, begging her not to do anything.
While he probably wasn’t going to cause any trouble in front of an audience, you would rather avoid him. His words could cause enough problems.
“I can take it,” she offered with a slight smile which you returned swiftly. She probably knew something was going on. She asked about the small wounds on your legs, but you quickly disregarded her concern with a small shake of your head and said you were only playing with your little brother. “Rest a little bit, okay?
“Thanks,” you muttered as you took off your apron and you stepped outside the restaurant. While the air was humid and hot, it was still better than the kitchen, even if the smell of fried fish seemed to follow you around.
It wasn’t long before Kie’s voice hit your ears, making you look up from your lap. It seemed to be way more interesting than it was ever before.
“He wants you,” she mumbled as she crossed her arms with a slight pout.
“Great,” you ironically chuckled before standing up and making your way back to the back of the restaurant. Kie was quick in your steps as she kept close to you.
“Does he know?” she lowly asked as she grabbed onto your upper arm, her eyes widening as the realization hit her.
You didn’t know if you should lie or tell the truth. There wasn’t much she could do to help you… if anything it would make everything worse.
“I… I don’t know,” you answered after putting your apron back on.
You left her behind and strolled to table four where your torturer was waiting for you.
“What can I get you?” you say as he looked up from the menu, eyes boring onto your neck, hidden behind a soft material. He was disappointed, but well, those marks were going to be there for longer than a few days and he couldn’t wait to make fresher ones.
“A coke, please,” he smiled softly at you and you couldn’t help but cringe at his movements.
“I’ll be back soon,” you muttered, your words laced with venom. At least you got off the hook easily.
You went back to the fridges and grabbed a bottle, the little devilish voice in your head repeating one sentence: shake it up. It would have been fun but you knew that his revenge would a thousand times worse.
He was that kind of a man. If you threw a plush toy at him, he would throw a fucking rock back at you.
You made your way back to his table and softly placed the soda in front of him, “Here’s your order.”
His fingers fished out a fifty-dollar bill, his eyes cheekily resting on your tired features, “Keep the change. We both know you need it.”
A tasteless chuckle left your lips, “Fuck you, Rafe.”
“Oh, I will,” he smirked before grabbing his coke and leaving the restaurant. You snatched the money up from the table before making your way back to the counter. The green paper crumpling between your fingers.
“Is everything okay?” Kiara walked up to you, her eyes scanning the diner. A small and relieved sigh left her lips when she saw that Rafe was no longer there.
“Yeah,” you lied as you cast your eyes onto her. “He was just being a dick.”
“Nothing new then,” she presses her lips together, eyebrows furrowed. She probably didn’t believe you, but you couldn’t blame her. You wouldn’t have believed yourself either.
“Nope,” you muttered before your eyes wandered to the clock on the wall. 14:10. Your shift was done. You quickly untied your apron and placed it on one of the shelves before turning to your friend, “I need to go home now and take Alex to practice. See you at The Chateau?”
“Yes, of course.”
After you dropped your brother off at his football practice, you made your way back home in hopes to be able to freshen up before seeing your friends at John B.’s house.
As you took your shirt off you stole a quick glance at your reflection in the mirror. Your neck was decorated with purple and black hues, the print of his fingers deeply burned into the flesh. It looked worse than yesterday. You wondered how long will it take for that constant reminder to disappear. Probably a good few weeks, however, judging by the pressure he put on your throat it could be even months.
A frustrated sigh left your lips as you stepped under the shower. The cold water cooling down your heated skin. You stood for a few minutes, letting the droplets run down your body.
You were fucked… literally. There was no way you were able to get that much money in such a short time. Even if the others could help you out, you didn’t see much chance for him to stop. He would find other ways to torment you. And now that he knew you would steal from him, you were sure, he wouldn’t leave you out of the fun.
You needed to tell your friends and come up with an idea because the last thing you wanted was to have sex with him.
You hastily washed and dried yourself before putting on another turtleneck with a short sleeve and a pair of light-wash bermuda shorts.
Once you were ready, you made your way to The Chateau where your friends were waiting for you, except for Sarah. While the two of you weren’t best friends, you were worried for her. Her phone was dead and she was MIA. You hoped at least John B. had a slight idea where his potential girlfriend was.
“Hey, guys,” you greeted them as you sat on the couch. It had seen better days, way better ones. It was decorated by dark patches - probably beverages that couldn’t stay still in their glasses - and deep scratches that were done by some cats.
“Hey.”
“Have you heard something from Sarah?” you questioned as you looked around, hoping for an answer.
“She actually just left,” Kiara told you. “Said her dad needed her or something.”
You only nodded. At least Sarah was fine.
“You okay? You look like shit,” JJ noted kindly as he sat down across from you, the wooden railing slightly creaking under his weight.
You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out. How were you supposed to break the news? Should you show them your neck? Should you tell them what he told you?
“Rafe knows,” you muttered. Straight to the point.
“What?” Pope asked, disbelief in his word.
“How?” came another question from John B.
“Shit,” Kiara breathed out. She seemed to be the only one who accepted it just like that. She was probably already suspicious of Rafe when he visited you. She just needed to hear it from your mouth.
“I don’t --. Fuck,” you sighed as you remembered the text you had sent her. He must have seen it, but that still didn’t explain why she never answered you. “I lost my bracelet in his room, and I sent Sarah a text asking her to try to look for it. I guess he saw the text on Sarah’s phone…”
“And?” Kiara’s voice hit your ears.
“… and then the same day I met with him and he told me that Sarah wants to meet with me at the pier. I thought it was weird. I mean why would she want to meet with me at the pier? But I didn’t care, I wanted my bracelet back. So I went to the pier to meet Sarah, and she wasn’t there, but Rafe was. He told me to get back the money or I’m fucked.”
“And?” Kie once again pressed for more details.
“… and then nothing. I went home.”
“Don’t lie, Y/N,” she scoffed, not believing you. You already lied to her at work and she was done with your shit. “He did something, didn’t he? Those bruises on your knees...”
“He just pushed me and I fell,” you kept lying. You wanted to spare them the fact he almost killed you. The last thing you needed was for them to try going after Rafe. It would just make everything worse and you were already deep enough shit as it was.
“What now?” John B. asked his eyes darting around, finally stopping on Kiara. He was waiting for her to find a solution.
“We give him the money back,” you declared, hoping that JJ didn’t come up with another great plan.
“How?”
“There’s still three hundred dollars from the money we stole. I have a hundred dollars in savings and I’m gonna get paid on Wednesday which is another five-hundred dollars and then another hundred dollars for Midsommar. That’s a thousand dollars,” you noted.
“Hold up…What if you don’t pay it back?” JJ cut in, his question flying through the air.
“I don’t know, JJ,” you lied once again, shame slowly creeping onto your mind. You felt bad, they were your friends after all, but was there even a good way to tell them what he wanted from you? “and I don’t wanna find out… I’m gonna pay back the money and then we’ll act like nothing happened. Sooo... anybody wants to help me out?”
“I want to,” Pope was the first to offer you help. “Pogues help Pogues, don’t they?”
“Yep,” John B. agreed as he extended his arm, his palm facing the floor. “Pogues for life?”
“Pogues for life,” you and your friends repeated his words, your hand meeting with theirs in the center of the circle you formed.
Maybe things were going to end well.
How naïve you were to think that…
end of chapter 3.
if you liked this, please, consider leaving a comment or an anon ask... it means more to me than a like or reblog (even though reblogs are deeply appreciated).
series summary: the perfect summer quickly turns into an avalanche of unfortunate events when you and your friends try to blackmail Rafe Cameron.
chapter warnings: a short paragraph about sex.
this chapter is more of a filler (and the next one too, probably) before things go down.
links:
➱ divider i | (@/firefly-graphics) | gif
➱ series masterlist
RAFE didn’t sleep well that night. Not because of what he did, but more because of what Barry would do to him once he realized that he wasn’t able to pay.
He didn’t mind scaring you. You had a relatively peaceful life until your mom died, but well, at least your father did love you, so what was the harm in making your life a little bit more exciting?
Exciting…
It probably wasn’t the right word, however, he didn’t care. Why would he? He wasn’t some smartass with a Ph.D. He didn’t need to be one. He had his father’s money and his mother’s charm. He had everything for a successful life. Good looks, a mansion, and now he had a girl too. While it was questionable if you were really his girl or not, he knew he was going to get you. There was no way you could make two thousand dollars with legal work, and he was sure you weren’t going to suck other Kooks’ dicks for a few papers, or at least he hoped so.
He had to have you first and even if you were able to cough up the money, he wasn’t going to stop, not anymore.
The past few hours he had been fantasizing about you. Getting you high and fucking you until you were a whimpering mess without a sober thought. His mind was getting hazy as he imagined your breasts between his hands, your cum around his lips and your ass against his abdomen. He was hard already, the mere of your body colliding with his sent every drop of blood to his dick.
Sometimes he wondered what would it be like losing his virginity to you. He used to daydream about it. He would have asked you to be his date for prom, and you would have agreed but with a little nudging and Topper’s help. He might have been a pussy in Rafe’s eyes, but he did know how to talk pretty to women. After prom, he would have taken you to some fancy restaurant where he would have asked you to be his girlfriend. You would have said yes. And the night before college he would have made love to you.
Love, a humorless chuckle left his lips at the thought. As a sixteen years old he was thinking of tender sex. Nowadays, it was more fucking and less lovey-dovey shit. He had grown up and all the anger he had in his heart exploded. He was capable of loving though. He probably could have loved you… but love was boring, and seeing the fear in your eyes as he choked you was so much more thrilling.
He was curious if his fingers were imprinted on your skin. In a way, it was a mark of his ownership over you because well, he did own you... at least until you didn’t get his money back.
Fuck, what he wouldn’t have given just to see your harshly decorated skin. If he remembered correctly you were working at The Wreck today. He might as well take a short trip to the diner. He was getting bored in the house anyway.
🌤️
It was seconds away from two o’clock in the afternoon. Your black t-shirt was stained by sweat and oil. These times at The Wreck were always hectic, but today it seemed to be even worse. You were getting dizzy and you were barely able to catch a breath. Maybe the short-sleeved turtleneck was a bad idea, but at least it hid Rafe’s fingerprints. Your bruised knees were already hard to explain.
“You have a new one at table four,” Kiara noted as you looked to the corner. Your heart filled with dread as your eyes fall upon his figure. He was on his phone, his lips slightly moving with every tap of his fingers.
“Fuck,” you cursed as you grabbed your notepad and pencil.
“You okay?” she questioned, her eyebrows furrowed.
“Yeah,” you lied, a sigh escaping from your mouth. You were far from okay. You wondered if you should tell what happened to you, but you were scared. You didn’t want anything to happen to her, or to the Pogues. You knew she wouldn’t leave it alone, even if you were crying your eyes out, begging her not to do anything.
While he probably wasn’t going to cause any trouble in front of an audience, you would rather avoid him. His words could cause enough problems.
“I can take it,” she offered with a slight smile which you returned swiftly. She probably knew something was going on. She asked about the small wounds on your legs, but you quickly disregarded her concern with a small shake of your head and said you were only playing with your little brother. “Rest a little bit, okay?
“Thanks,” you muttered as you took off your apron and you stepped outside the restaurant. While the air was humid and hot, it was still better than the kitchen, even if the smell of fried fish seemed to follow you around.
It wasn’t long before Kie’s voice hit your ears, making you look up from your lap. It seemed to be way more interesting than it was ever before.
“He wants you,” she mumbled as she crossed her arms with a slight pout.
“Great,” you ironically chuckled before standing up and making your way back to the back of the restaurant. Kie was quick in your steps as she kept close to you.
“Does he know?” she lowly asked as she grabbed onto your upper arm, her eyes widening as the realization hit her.
You didn’t know if you should lie or tell the truth. There wasn’t much she could do to help you… if anything it would make everything worse.
“I… I don’t know,” you answered after putting your apron back on.
You left her behind and strolled to table four where your torturer was waiting for you.
“What can I get you?” you say as he looked up from the menu, eyes boring onto your neck, hidden behind a soft material. He was disappointed, but well, those marks were going to be there for longer than a few days and he couldn’t wait to make fresher ones.
“A coke, please,” he smiled softly at you and you couldn’t help but cringe at his movements.
“I’ll be back soon,” you muttered, your words laced with venom. At least you got off the hook easily.
You went back to the fridges and grabbed a bottle, the little devilish voice in your head repeating one sentence: shake it up. It would have been fun but you knew that his revenge would a thousand times worse.
He was that kind of a man. If you threw a plush toy at him, he would throw a fucking rock back at you.
You made your way back to his table and softly placed the soda in front of him, “Here’s your order.”
His fingers fished out a fifty-dollar bill, his eyes cheekily resting on your tired features, “Keep the change. We both know you need it.”
A tasteless chuckle left your lips, “Fuck you, Rafe.”
“Oh, I will,” he smirked before grabbing his coke and leaving the restaurant. You snatched the money up from the table before making your way back to the counter. The green paper crumpling between your fingers.
“Is everything okay?” Kiara walked up to you, her eyes scanning the diner. A small and relieved sigh left her lips when she saw that Rafe was no longer there.
“Yeah,” you lied as you cast your eyes onto her. “He was just being a dick.”
“Nothing new then,” she presses her lips together, eyebrows furrowed. She probably didn’t believe you, but you couldn’t blame her. You wouldn’t have believed yourself either.
“Nope,” you muttered before your eyes wandered to the clock on the wall. 14:10. Your shift was done. You quickly untied your apron and placed it on one of the shelves before turning to your friend, “I need to go home now and take Alex to practice. See you at The Chateau?”
“Yes, of course.”
After you dropped your brother off at his football practice, you made your way back home in hopes to be able to freshen up before seeing your friends at John B.’s house.
As you took your shirt off you stole a quick glance at your reflection in the mirror. Your neck was decorated with purple and black hues, the print of his fingers deeply burned into the flesh. It looked worse than yesterday. You wondered how long will it take for that constant reminder to disappear. Probably a good few weeks, however, judging by the pressure he put on your throat it could be even months.
A frustrated sigh left your lips as you stepped under the shower, the cold water cooling down your heated skin. You stood for a few minutes, letting the droplets run down your body.
You were fucked… literally. There was no way you were able to get that much money in such a short time. Even if the others could help you out, you didn’t see much chance for him to stop. He would find other ways to torment you. And now that he knew you would steal from him, you were sure, he wouldn’t leave you out of the fun.
You needed to tell your friends and come up with an idea because the last thing you wanted was to have sex with him.
You hastily washed and dried yourself before putting on another turtleneck with a short sleeve and a pair of light-wash bermuda shorts.
Once you were ready, you made your way to The Chateau where your friends were waiting for you, except for Sarah. While the two of you weren’t best friends, you were worried for her. Her phone was dead and she was MIA. You hoped at least John B. had a slight idea where his potential girlfriend was.
“Hey, guys,” you greeted them as you sat on the couch. It had seen better days, way better ones. It was decorated by dark patches - probably beverages that couldn’t stay still in their glasses - and deep scratches that were done by some cats.
“Hey.”
“Have you heard something from Sarah?” you questioned as you looked around, hoping for an answer.
“She actually just left,” Kiara told you. “Said her dad needed her or something.”
You only nodded. At least Sarah was fine.
“You okay? You look like shit,” JJ noted kindly as he sat down across from you, the wooden railing slightly creaking under his weight.
You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out. How were you supposed to break the news? Should you show them your neck? Should you tell them what he told you?
“Rafe knows,” you muttered. Straight to the point.
“What?” Pope asked, disbelief in his word.
“How?” came another question from John B.
“Shit,” Kiara breathed out. She seemed to be the only one who accepted it just like that. She was probably already suspicious of Rafe when he visited you. She just needed to hear it from your mouth.
“I don’t --. Fuck,” you sighed as you remembered the text you had sent her. He must have seen it, but that still didn’t explain why she never answered you. “I lost my bracelet in his room, and I sent Sarah a text asking her to try to look for it. I guess he saw the text on Sarah’s phone…”
“And?” Kiara’s voice hit your ears.
“… and then the same day I met with him and he told me that Sarah wants to meet with me at the pier. I thought it was weird. I mean why would she want to meet with me at the pier? But I didn’t care, I wanted my bracelet back. So I went to the pier to meet Sarah, and she wasn’t there, but Rafe was. He told me to get back the money or I’m fucked.”
“And?” Kie once again pressed for more details.
“… and then nothing. I went home.”
“Don’t lie, Y/N,” she scoffed, not believing you. You already lied to her at work and she was done with your shit. “He did something, didn’t he? Those bruises on your knees...”
“He just pushed me and I fell,” you kept lying. You wanted to spare them the fact he almost killed you. The last thing you needed was for them to try going after Rafe. It would just make everything worse and you were already deep enough shit as it was.
“What now?” John B. asked his eyes darting around, finally stopping on Kiara. He was waiting for her to find a solution.
“We give him the money back,” you declared, hoping that JJ didn’t come up with another great plan.
“How?”
“There’s still three hundred dollars from the money we stole. I have a hundred dollars in savings and I’m gonna get paid on Wednesday which is another five-hundred dollars and then another hundred dollars for Midsummers. That’s a thousand dollars,” you noted.
“Hold up…What if you don’t pay it back?” JJ cut in, his question flying through the air.
“I don’t know, JJ,” you lied once again, shame slowly creeping onto your mind. You felt bad, they were your friends after all, but was there even a good way to tell them what he wanted from you? “and I don’t wanna find out… I’m gonna pay back the money and then we’ll act like nothing happened. Sooo... anybody wants to help me out?”
“I want to,” Pope was the first to offer you help. “Pogues help Pogues, don’t they?”
“Yep,” John B. agreed as he extended his arm, his palm facing the floor. “Pogues for life?”
“Pogues for life,” you and your friends repeated his words, your hand meeting with theirs in the center of the circle you formed.
Maybe things were going to end well.
How naïve you were to think that…
end of chapter 3.
if you liked this, please, consider leaving a comment or an anon ask... it means more to me than a like or reblog (even though reblogs are deeply appreciated).
series summary: the perfect summer quickly turns into an avalanche of unfortunate events when you and your friends try to blackmail Rafe Cameron.
chapter warnings: choking; near death experience; blackmail.
links:
➱ divider i | (@/firefly-graphics)
➱ series masterlist
YOUR sleep was restless. You woke up to the sound of every passing car and the loitering teens’ laughs, even your puppy’s deeper snores scared you. You were a ball of paranoia. You wondered if it was still the effect of your mistake or just the anxiety of not knowing what Rafe was capable of.
A frustrated, muffled cry escaped from your lungs as your fingers tightly hugged the roots of your hair. You were worrying over something that didn’t even happen yet. There was no way he was going to find it was you who stole his money, at least for a good while. Yet, even the thought of him sent shivers down your spine.
You carefully got out of your bed, Zeus following your movements sluggishly. His hungry gaze was a constant reminder to you of his empty stomach. You shook your head with a small smile on your lips as your hand ruffled his hair.
“Let’s have breakfast,” you whispered before opening your door and walking the stairs, reaching the kitchen. Your puppy was like a shadow behind your figure as if he was afraid you would forget about his grumbling tummy.
The creaking of the kitchen counter’s door filled the room as you unlocked it and grabbed two bags of pet food, slowly shaking them in front of Zeus.
“Which one do you want? We have beef,” you noted as you lifted the green package, “and chicken.”
Zeus softly poked the red one with his nose, deciding on the fowl-flavored pet food. You poured some into his blue-colored bowl before letting him bury his face into his breakfast.
When you fed your pup, you strolled to the fridge, your eyes not being able to choose if you should it scrambled eggs or eggs but scrambled.
“Scrambled eggs it is then,” you chuckled before grabbing a few eggs and a little onion.
You were chopping the onions up as your father walked into the kitchen, still in his pajamas. He sent a wave your way which you only acknowledged with a nod.
“Look who’s awake and making breakfast at -,” your father stepped into the kitchen and glaced at the clock on the wall. “- 7 o’clock.”
“I couldn’t sleep,” you said as you grabbed another set of eggs, hopeful that was enough for the two of you.
“Did something happen yesterday?” he questioned. He was suspicious. There was no way a kid your age came back from a party two hours after they left. He had a bad feeling, he just couldn’t really point out why. It wasn’t like he didn’t trust you, but he knew you had a tendency to find trouble without looking for it. “Did a boy do something to you?”
“No, of course not,” you muttered softly as you placed the pan on the stove and poured the scrambled eggs and onion into it.
“Are you sure? I can kick his ass,” he jokingly bumped his shoulder to yours, earning a chuckle from you.
“I’m sure, dad,” you assured with a soft smile on your lips.
After breakfast, you shot Sarah a message asking her to try to look for your missing bracelet in case it fell from your wrist when you hid under Rafe’s bed.
You quickly got ready, and dropped your phone inside your backpack, next to the cash and the small package that contained the forbidden white powder. You were planning on giving it to JJ, however, it was probably safer in your possession, so you grabbed the small bag and hid it inside your drawer, under your socks.
Once you put your shoes on, you grasped your backpack and left your room. With a ‘have a nice day’ you said goodbye to your father and stepped outside. The weather was nice that day, nicer than the day before. The wind softly breezed through your hair as you got onto your bike and made your way to The Chateau.
You were worried, they had been radio silent since yesterday night, and not even Sarah texted you back. While their phone could have just easily died, you had a bad feeling. It wasn’t like every phone goes dead at the same time, you weren’t in some apocalyptic movies where it was possible.
When you arrived to John B.’s house, you dropped your bike down. Your quick steps crunched against the dirt and leaves as you neared the porch where your friends were already sitting, probably waiting for you.
“Hey, guys,” you greeted them as your eyes fell onto their tired features. Both Pope and John B. were sporting a bruise around their eyes, while JJ had a split lip and a lighter gash on the side of his cheek. “I guess Rafe wasn’t in a good mood.”
“Yeah, something like that,” John B. sarcastically chuckled as he kept his gaze on the floor.
“Were you able to find something?” JJ popped the question, itchy for some good news.
“Not really,” you answered as you sat down and fished out the cash that was hugged around by a hair tie, “other than two thousand dollars.”
“Shit, that’s more than enough for a bike,” Pope said as he looked at you.
“Knew you were a good choice.” The blond boy softly smiled as he grabbed the money from your hand, and pressed a short kiss to your temple. “I’m lucky to have a girl like you.”
“Right,” you chuckled, knowing well the reason for the flattery was the money you stole. “So what happened yesterday?”
“Just a fight with the kooks,” JJ explained. “The party quickly ended after that, and then we just kinda crashed here while the girls went home.”
“And what happened to your phone? I tried to call you, but you didn’t pick up.”
“Had a swim in the ocean,” he stated as he lifted his phone, water dripping down from the USB port. “I should put it in rice.”
“and Sarah?”
“Is this some kind of interrogation?” JJ shot back, fed up with the hundreds of questions.
“No, course not,” you defended yourself. “Sarah just has something of mine that I need.”
“She hasn’t texted me either,” John B. informed you with a pout of his lips. “I tried to call her, too, but it takes me to voicemail instantly.”
A sigh left your lungs, “Shit. What now?”
“What do you mean?” JJ questioned, a smirk hiding under his nose. He already knew what you were doing. “We buy a new bike and have lunch together, then wait for the girls. They’ll come around. Sarah is probably getting ready to mack John B., and Kiara’s hearing a whole lecture on why she shouldn’t hang out with us.”
He jumped up and looked around, “Come on, guys. It’s gonna be fun.”
“I don’t know, JJ,” you muttered before pursing your lips into a thin line. “I think we should wait. If Rafe finds out it was us, at least we can still pay it back… two days, JJ, that’s all.”
“He won’t find out,” he said, slight annoyance evident in his voice. He didn’t understand why you were so worried. “Even if he does, who cares? He deserves it.”
“I care, JJ. I don’t want to go to jail.”
“And you won’t,” he reassuared. “He won’t find out as long as we keep our mouths shut, which we will.”
“I just have a bad feeling about this,” you softly sighed as you stood up and walked to your bike.
“Where are you going?” John B. asked as he looked at you.
“JJ wants to buy a new bike, doesn’t he?” you said with a small smile on your features. While your paranoia was still suffocating your mind, having fun with your friends couldn’t hurt you.
And JJ was right, he wasn’t going to find out as long as everybody kept their mouth shut.
“That’s right, babe,” he followed you with Pope and John B. behind him.
🌤️
After JJ had brought his new motorbike and invited you to the promised dinner, you had left the boys at The Chateau when you got a text from your father to pick your little brother up earlier from his friend’s house.
You were walking home with Alex when your phone vibrated in your pockets signaling a message, yet you paid no attention to as your attention was focused on your little brother’s babbling.
“… and then we played football, and I scored three times.”
“You’re really good. A good few years and your name will be in the sport news,” you softly chuckled as you grabbed his shoulder when you heard a car nearing you.
It slowed down beside you, and from the corner of your eyes, you had seen Rafe’s truck. Something in your mind was screaming that he wasn’t here to play nice and take you home like before.
“Hey, Pogue,” Rafe scoffed as he looked at you, his gaze filled with anger. Yesterday’s kindness was nowhere to be seen.
“Hey,” you mumbled under your breath as your fingers hugged his shoulder a little harder, a groan leaving Alex’s lips. You didn’t want to hurt him, but Rafe’s presence was feeding into your anxiety.
“Uhm... Sarah told me that she wants to meet up with you at the docks around 9 pm. Said she had something of yours,” he explained as your gaze lit up. She found your bracelet.
But why did she want to meet you at the docks? And why wouldn’t she tell you herself?
It was weird, yet you didn’t really care. Your bracelet was in safe hands, and that was what mattered to you most at that moment.
“Thanks, Rafe,” you nodded with the smallest smile ever.
“You’re welcome,” he grumbled, his knuckles turning white as he strangled the steering wheel, “and tell your boy he has a nice ride.”
He drove off, leaving a mist of dirt behind him.
“Who was he?” your brother asked as he stared at you.
“A friend of mine,” you lied as you nudged Alex, signaling to him that it was time to move.
“He doesn’t seem nice.”
“Yeah, I know,” you replied. “Actually, if you see him around, don’t talk to him, alright?”
“Why? He’s your friend.”
“He might be, but he’s…” you muttered, not sure what was the right choice of words. “Look, I just don’t want him around you, okay? That’s it.”
“Okay,” he uttered swiftly, not minding your request.
The sun was slowly leaving the horizon as you were walking through The Cut. The heat no longer burned your skin and the soft wind was refreshing against your body. It was quiet for the most part, with only a few cars passing you, and some kids running around the neighborhood. You felt peaceful, even if it was almost dark. You hated the darkness. It was eerie, unfamiliar and you never knew what was hiding in the shadows.
When you reached the docks, a glimpse of Rafe caught your eyes, your blood freezing in your veins.
He was the one who found the bracelet, wasn’t he?
Which also meant he knew about you sneaking into his room and stealing his drug money.
Maybe you could make a run for it, leave him and when things seem a little brighter, beg for him to give it back to you.
“Y/N.” Your name easily rolled off his tongue. He was standing at the edge, his weight supported by the wooden railing.
Or maybe it was time to face him. It wasn’t like he gave you much of a choice anyway.
“Rafe,” you muttered his name, your voice small and unrecognizable.
“I think I have something of yours,” he noted with a smirk as he fished your bracelet out of his pocket, his fingers carelessly playing with it. “I just don’t know what I should ask for it. I mean it seems expensive... and pretty important to you.”
“I’m sorry,” you apologized as you strolled closer to him, only a foot distance between you and him.
“You think that’s gonna be enough?” he humorlessly chuckled, his gaze falling onto your shivering figure. “A sorry for stealing two thousand dollars from me? You know that’s not going to cut it, right?”
“I’ll pay it back. Just give me the bracelet, please,” you pleaded hopelessly.
“Pay it back? How do you wanna do that? Have you looked at yourself?” he mocked, his vile giggles swimming through the ocean.
“Please, Rafe,” you begged one more time, but it was useless as it seemed.
“You know I liked you, Y/N. Thought you were hot, I mean you’re not exactly my type, but fuck, you made my dick hard,” he confessed. “I even took you home, hoping you would kiss me as a thank you, but you didn’t and I accepted that. Hell, I laid off your friends when you were around… and this is what you do to me?”
“I’m sorry, Rafe.”
“No, you’re not,” he shook his head as he extended his arm, your bracelet hanging from his fingers. “But you know what, Y/N? I’m a nice person. I give you three days to pay it back, and if you can’t… well, I have a few ideas in mind.”
“What?” you muttered, your eyebrows knitting together. Your lips were slightly parted as you thought of all the things he wanted to do with you.
“Hmm… How should I say it so you can understand?” he asked with a hint of cruelty.
“I’m not dumb, Rafe,” you softly scoffed.
“Right, of course. You get three days, and if you can’t pay, I’ll get to fuck you.”
“Please, Rafe, don’t do this. I promise I’ll pay it back... just give me the bracelet.” You didn’t want him to touch you, not like that, anyway. As if you were just some doll, he could use anytime he desired... like you were just a plaything he had seen on the shelf at the mall.
A chuckle left his lips as the golden chain slightly swayed from one side to the other, “A promise won’t be enough. I need you to say it, and I’ll give it back.”
“Please,” you begged one more time, a salty tear racing down your cheek.
“I guess that’s a no then.”
Your words meant nothing to him as the bracelet fell from his hands and dropped into the ocean with a small splash. Anger filled your heart as you looked at him. A cruel smirk danced on his lips. He enjoyed every desperate attempt of you trying to appease him.
“How does it feel getting something really important taken away from you?” he taunted while his fingers swiped the tear from your eyes, his touch was tender against your skin. Heat raised to your cheeks as his hand drew small circles on the slightly dry flesh, your mind getting lost in the moment until the harsh reality hit you right across the face. “I’ll pick you up on Friday. Wear something pretty.”
“Fuck you, Rafe,” you cursed as you pushed him away from you. He staggered on the pier before he lost his balance and tumbled into the water.
A small ‘shit’ escaped from you as you realized what you did. He was going to kill you. Your legs didn’t dare to move. You were scared, not of Rafe, but of the fact that you killed him. You didn’t know if he ever learned to swim or not. The last thing you needed was his death on your consciousness.
When he had broken the surface of the water, a sigh of relief left your mouth. He was alive, however, it wasn’t good news for you.
“Run, you fucking bitch,” he growled before he grabbed onto the pier and pushed himself out of the water.
The way his eyes darkened sent shivers down your spine as your legs started moving on their own, your mind barely registering what was going on.
You could hear him behind you, his breath reaching your ears. He was close, way too close for you to be able to trick him, so you just run without thinking.
Yet, it wasn’t enough as your body collided with his. You dropped to your knees, small pebbles sticking into your flesh. A small cry left your lips as he flipped you over, your back against the flat asphalt.
He grabbed your jaw, harsh fingers making you look into his eyes. The normally blue irises were almost back.
“You think you’ll get away with this?” he muttered, his hands hugging your neck around. “I could fucking kill you right now. Nobody would care.”
His grasp tightened around your throat, your hands clasping his arms, trying to fight him off. You were losing breath and he didn’t seem to mind.
“Rafe,” you pressed his name out, your lungs burning like there was a wildfire inside your ribcage. Your vision was blurring, black spots swimming through your gaze.
“Three days, Pogue. Do you understand?” he asked and you frantically nodded your head. After he let go of your throat, a few coughs escaped from your lips, your fingers immediately caressing the sore area.
He stood up and grabbed your upper arm, making you get up with a small whine. His touch was sharp and hurtful.
Your steps were loud as you made your way through The Cut. He didn’t say a word, only your quiet whimpers flew through the air.
“Are you kids okay?” an older man asked as he stopped in front of you, his wrinkled eyes moving up and down.
“Yes,” Rafe grumbled.
“And the girl? She doesn’t seem okay...”
You were far from okay. Your clothes were torn and your eyes were glassy. Blood was trickling from the small cuts on your knees, and you still felt dizzy.
“I said we are fine,” he bit as he tugged on your arm, leaving the stranger behind.
Once you had reached his truck, he pushed you inside before he got into the driver’s seat and started the car. You were silent as the trees passed you. Your head was no longer spinning due to the lack of oxygen. You were finally starting to feel better.
So many things went to shit in so little time. One minute you were a regular college student trying to enjoy your summer in Outer Banks, and the next thing you knew Rafe was suffocating the life out of you. And the worst of it all was that you knew it wasn’t the end of it.
“You know, Y/N, I thought you were better than this,” he said as he kept his eyes on the road. “You do everything for those dirty Pogues, and what do they really give you? Or you only did it because of Maybank? Did he fuck you?”
You didn’t say a word. He was taunting you and you didn’t want to play his stupid game.
“Answer me.” His voice was low and calm, yet you knew it meant nothing good.
“No, for fuck’s sake,” you cried out.
“Good,” he smirked with a soft movement of his head. “You’re too pretty for him anyway.”
“Why are you doing this to me?” You were on the verge of a breakdown. First, he tried to kill you, and now you were too pretty for JJ. You didn’t understand him, but one thing you knew was that you needed to get that money back fast because he wasn’t going to leave you alone.
“You said it yourself, Y/N, you’re not that dumb. You will figure it out soon enough,” he said as he stopped the car and nudged your thigh, signaling that it was the end of the ride. “I’ll be back soon for the money.”
“And if I don’t have it, you’ll kill me?” you questioned, a sudden spurt of bravery making its appearance in your voice. “It’s not like it almost didn’t happen.”
“Yeah, sorry about that. It was a moment of weakness. I have much better plans for you actually,” he chuckled softly.
“Go to Hell, Rafe,” you scoffed before you got out of the car and made your way to your house.
“See you there, babe,” he yelled after you as he drove off, leaving you alone on the street.
You stepped inside the empty living room and plopped down on the couch, a frustrated sigh following your movements.
How were you supposed to get the money back in three days?
end of chapter 2.
if you liked this, please, consider leaving a comment or an anon ask... it means more to me than a like or reblog (even though reblogs are deeply appreciated). <3
series summary: the perfect summer quickly turns into an avalanche of unfortunate events when you and your friends try to blackmail Rafe Cameron.
chapter warnings: choking; near death experience; blackmail.
links:
➱ divider i | (@/firefly-graphics)
➱ series masterlist
YOUR sleep was restless. You woke up to the sound of every passing car and the loitering teens’ laughs, even your puppy’s deeper snores scared you. You were a ball of paranoia. You wondered if it was still the effect of your mistake or just the anxiety of not knowing what Rafe was capable of.
A frustrated, muffled cry escaped from your lungs as your fingers tightly hugged the roots of your hair. You were worrying over something that didn’t even happen yet. There was no way he was going to find it was you who stole his money, at least for a good while. Yet, even the thought of him sent shivers down your spine.
You carefully got out of your bed, Zeus following your movements sluggishly. His hungry gaze was a constant reminder to you of his empty stomach. You shook your head with a small smile on your lips as your hand ruffled his hair.
“Let’s have breakfast,” you whispered before opening your door and walking the stairs, reaching the kitchen. Your puppy was like a shadow behind your figure as if he was afraid you would forget about his grumbling tummy.
The creaking of the kitchen counter’s door filled the room as you unlocked it and grabbed two bags of pet food, slowly shaking them in front of Zeus.
“Which one do you want? We have beef,” you noted as you lifted the green package, “and chicken.”
Zeus softly poked the red one with his nose, deciding on the fowl-flavored pet food. You poured some into his blue-colored bowl before letting him bury his face into his breakfast.
When you fed your pup, you strolled to the fridge, your eyes not being able to choose if you should it scrambled eggs or eggs but scrambled.
“Scrambled eggs it is then,” you chuckled before grabbing a few eggs and a little onion.
You were chopping the onions up as your father walked into the kitchen, still in his pajamas. He sent a wave your way which you only acknowledged with a nod.
“Look who’s awake and making breakfast at -,” your father stepped into the kitchen and glaced at the clock on the wall. “- 7 o’clock.”
“I couldn’t sleep,” you said as you grabbed another set of eggs, hopeful that was enough for the two of you.
“Did something happen yesterday?” he questioned. He was suspicious. There was no way a kid your age came back from a party two hours after they left. He had a bad feeling, he just couldn’t really point out why. It wasn’t like he didn’t trust you, but he knew you had a tendency to find trouble without looking for it. “Did a boy do something to you?”
“No, of course not,” you muttered softly as you placed the pan on the stove and poured the scrambled eggs and onion into it.
“Are you sure? I can kick his ass,” he jokingly bumped his shoulder to yours, earning a chuckle from you.
“I’m sure, dad,” you assured with a soft smile on your lips.
After breakfast, you shot Sarah a message asking her to try to look for your missing bracelet in case it fell from your wrist when you hid under Rafe’s bed.
You quickly got ready, and dropped your phone inside your backpack, next to the cash and the small package that contained the forbidden white powder. You were planning on giving it to JJ, however, it was probably safer in your possession, so you grabbed the small bag and hid it inside your drawer, under your socks.
Once you put your shoes on, you grasped your backpack and left your room. With a ‘have a nice day’ you said goodbye to your father and stepped outside. The weather was nice that day, nicer than the day before. The wind softly breezed through your hair as you got onto your bike and made your way to The Chateau.
You were worried, they had been radio silent since yesterday night, and not even Sarah texted you back. While their phone could have just easily died, you had a bad feeling. It wasn’t like every phone goes dead at the same time, you weren’t in some apocalyptic movies where it was possible.
When you arrived to John B.’s house, you dropped your bike down. Your quick steps crunched against the dirt and leaves as you neared the porch where your friends were already sitting, probably waiting for you.
“Hey, guys,” you greeted them as your eyes fell onto their tired features. Both Pope and John B. were sporting a bruise around their eyes, while JJ had a split lip and a lighter gash on the side of his cheek. “I guess Rafe wasn’t in a good mood.”
“Yeah, something like that,” John B. sarcastically chuckled as he kept his gaze on the floor.
“Were you able to find something?” JJ popped the question, itchy for some good news.
“Not really,” you answered as you sat down and fished out the cash that was hugged around by a hair tie, “other than two thousand dollars.”
“Shit, that’s more than enough for a bike,” Pope said as he looked at you.
“Knew you were a good choice.” The blond boy softly smiled as he grabbed the money from your hand, and pressed a short kiss to your temple. “I’m lucky to have a girl like you.”
“Right,” you chuckled, knowing well the reason for the flattery was the money you stole. “So what happened yesterday?”
“Just a fight with the kooks,” JJ explained. “The party quickly ended after that, and then we just kinda crashed here while the girls went home.”
“And what happened to your phone? I tried to call you, but you didn’t pick up.”
“Had a swim in the ocean,” he stated as he lifted his phone, water dripping down from the USB port. “I should put it in rice.”
“and Sarah?”
“Is this some kind of interrogation?” JJ shot back, fed up with the hundreds of questions.
“No, course not,” you defended yourself. “Sarah just has something of mine that I need.”
“She hasn’t texted me either,” John B. informed you with a pout of his lips. “I tried to call her, too, but it takes me to voicemail instantly.”
A sigh left your lungs, “Shit. What now?”
“What do you mean?” JJ questioned, a smirk hiding under his nose. He already knew what you were doing. “We buy a new bike and have lunch together, then wait for the girls. They’ll come around. Sarah is probably getting ready to mack John B., and Kiara’s hearing a whole lecture on why she shouldn’t hang out with us.”
He jumped up and looked around, “Come on, guys. It’s gonna be fun.”
“I don’t know, JJ,” you muttered before pursing your lips into a thin line. “I think we should wait. If Rafe finds out it was us, at least we can still pay it back… two days, JJ, that’s all.”
“He won’t find out,” he said, slight annoyance evident in his voice. He didn’t understand why you were so worried. “Even if he does, who cares? He deserves it.”
“I care, JJ. I don’t want to go to jail.”
“And you won’t,” he reassuared. “He won’t find out as long as we keep our mouths shut, which we will.”
“I just have a bad feeling about this,” you softly sighed as you stood up and walked to your bike.
“Where are you going?” John B. asked as he looked at you.
“JJ wants to buy a new bike, doesn’t he?” you said with a small smile on your features. While your paranoia was still suffocating your mind, having fun with your friends couldn’t hurt you.
And JJ was right, he wasn’t going to find out as long as everybody kept their mouth shut.
“That’s right, babe,” he followed you with Pope and John B. behind him.
🌤️
After JJ had brought his new motorbike and invited you to the promised dinner, you had left the boys at The Chateau when you got a text from your father to pick your little brother up earlier from his friend’s house.
You were walking home with Alex when your phone vibrated in your pockets signaling a message, yet you paid no attention to as your attention was focused on your little brother’s babbling.
“… and then we played football, and I scored three times.”
“You’re really good. A good few years and your name will be in the sport news,” you softly chuckled as you grabbed his shoulder when you heard a car nearing you.
It slowed down beside you, and from the corner of your eyes, you had seen Rafe’s truck. Something in your mind was screaming that he wasn’t here to play nice and take you home like before.
“Hey, Pogue,” Rafe scoffed as he looked at you, his gaze filled with anger. Yesterday’s kindness was nowhere to be seen.
“Hey,” you mumbled under your breath as your fingers hugged his shoulder a little harder, a groan leaving Alex’s lips. You didn’t want to hurt him, but Rafe’s presence was feeding into your anxiety.
“Uhm... Sarah told me that she wants to meet up with you at the docks around 9 pm. Said she had something of yours,” he explained as your gaze lit up. She found your bracelet.
But why did she want to meet you at the docks? And why wouldn’t she tell you herself?
It was weird, yet you didn’t really care. Your bracelet was in safe hands, and that was what mattered to you most at that moment.
“Thanks, Rafe,” you nodded with the smallest smile ever.
“You’re welcome,” he grumbled, his knuckles turning white as he strangled the steering wheel, “and tell your boy he has a nice ride.”
He drove off, leaving a mist of dirt behind him.
“Who was he?” your brother asked as he stared at you.
“A friend of mine,” you lied as you nudged Alex, signaling to him that it was time to move.
“He doesn’t seem nice.”
“Yeah, I know,” you replied. “Actually, if you see him around, don’t talk to him, alright?”
“Why? He’s your friend.”
“He might be, but he’s…” you muttered, not sure what was the right choice of words. “Look, I just don’t want him around you, okay? That’s it.”
“Okay,” he uttered swiftly, not minding your request.
The sun was slowly leaving the horizon as you were walking through The Cut. The heat no longer burned your skin and the soft wind was refreshing against your body. It was quiet for the most part, with only a few cars passing you, and some kids running around the neighborhood. You felt peaceful, even if it was almost dark. You hated the darkness. It was eerie, unfamiliar and you never knew what was hiding in the shadows.
When you reached the docks, a glimpse of Rafe caught your eyes, your blood freezing in your veins.
He was the one who found the bracelet, wasn’t he?
Which also meant he knew about you sneaking into his room and stealing his drug money.
Maybe you could make a run for it, leave him and when things seem a little brighter, beg for him to give it back to you.
“Y/N.” Your name easily rolled off his tongue. He was standing at the edge, his weight supported by the wooden railing.
Or maybe it was time to face him. It wasn’t like he gave you much of a choice anyway.
“Rafe,” you muttered his name, your voice small and unrecognizable.
“I think I have something of yours,” he noted with a smirk as he fished your bracelet out of his pocket, his fingers carelessly playing with it. “I just don’t know what I should ask for it. I mean it seems expensive... and pretty important to you.”
“I’m sorry,” you apologized as you strolled closer to him, only a foot distance between you and him.
“You think that’s gonna be enough?” he humorlessly chuckled, his gaze falling onto your shivering figure. “A sorry for stealing two thousand dollars from me? You know that’s not going to cut it, right?”
“I’ll pay it back. Just give me the bracelet, please,” you pleaded hopelessly.
“Pay it back? How do you wanna do that? Have you looked at yourself?” he mocked, his vile giggles swimming through the ocean.
“Please, Rafe,” you begged one more time, but it was useless as it seemed.
“You know I liked you, Y/N. Thought you were hot, I mean you’re not exactly my type, but fuck, you made my dick hard,” he confessed. “I even took you home, hoping you would kiss me as a thank you, but you didn’t and I accepted that. Hell, I laid off your friends when you were around… and this is what you do to me?”
“I’m sorry, Rafe.”
“No, you’re not,” he shook his head as he extended his arm, your bracelet hanging from his fingers. “But you know what, Y/N? I’m a nice person. I give you three days to pay it back, and if you can’t… well, I have a few ideas in mind.”
“What?” you muttered, your eyebrows knitting together. Your lips were slightly parted as you thought of all the things he wanted to do with you.
“Hmm… How should I say it so you can understand?” he asked with a hint of cruelty.
“I’m not dumb, Rafe,” you softly scoffed.
“Right, of course. You get three days, and if you can’t pay, I’ll get to fuck you.”
“Please, Rafe, don’t do this. I promise I’ll pay it back... just give me the bracelet.” You didn’t want him to touch you, not like that, anyway. As if you were just some doll, he could use anytime he desired... like you were just a plaything he had seen on the shelf at the mall.
A chuckle left his lips as the golden chain slightly swayed from one side to the other, “A promise won’t be enough. I need you to say it, and I’ll give it back.”
“Please,” you begged one more time, a salty tear racing down your cheek.
“I guess that’s a no then.”
Your words meant nothing to him as the bracelet fell from his hands and dropped into the ocean with a small splash. Anger filled your heart as you looked at him. A cruel smirk danced on his lips. He enjoyed every desperate attempt of you trying to appease him.
“How does it feel getting something really important taken away from you?” he taunted while his fingers swiped the tear from your eyes, his touch was tender against your skin. Heat raised to your cheeks as his hand drew small circles on the slightly dry flesh, your mind getting lost in the moment until the harsh reality hit you right across the face. “I’ll pick you up on Friday. Wear something pretty.”
“Fuck you, Rafe,” you cursed as you pushed him away from you. He staggered on the pier before he lost his balance and tumbled into the water.
A small ‘shit’ escaped from you as you realized what you did. He was going to kill you. Your legs didn’t dare to move. You were scared, not of Rafe, but of the fact that you killed him. You didn’t know if he ever learned to swim or not. The last thing you needed was his death on your consciousness.
When he had broken the surface of the water, a sigh of relief left your mouth. He was alive, however, it wasn’t good news for you.
“Run, you fucking bitch,” he growled before he grabbed onto the pier and pushed himself out of the water.
The way his eyes darkened sent shivers down your spine as your legs started moving on their own, your mind barely registering what was going on.
You could hear him behind you, his breath reaching your ears. He was close, way too close for you to be able to trick him, so you just run without thinking.
Yet, it wasn’t enough as your body collided with his. You dropped to your knees, small pebbles sticking into your flesh. A small cry left your lips as he flipped you over, your back against the flat asphalt.
He grabbed your jaw, harsh fingers making you look into his eyes. The normally blue irises were almost back.
“You think you’ll get away with this?” he muttered, his hands hugging your neck around. “I could fucking kill you right now. Nobody would care.”
His grasp tightened around your throat, your hands clasping his arms, trying to fight him off. You were losing breath and he didn’t seem to mind.
“Rafe,” you pressed his name out, your lungs burning like there was a wildfire inside your ribcage. Your vision was blurring, black spots swimming through your gaze.
“Three days, Pogue. Do you understand?” he asked and you frantically nodded your head. After he let go of your throat, a few coughs escaped from your lips, your fingers immediately caressing the sore area.
He stood up and grabbed your upper arm, making you get up with a small whine. His touch was sharp and hurtful.
Your steps were loud as you made your way through The Cut. He didn’t say a word, only your quiet whimpers flew through the air.
“Are you kids okay?” an older man asked as he stopped in front of you, his wrinkled eyes moving up and down.
“Yes,” Rafe grumbled.
“And the girl? She doesn’t seem okay...”
You were far from okay. Your clothes were torn and your eyes were glassy. Blood was trickling from the small cuts on your knees, and you still felt dizzy.
“I said we are fine,” he bit as he tugged on your arm, leaving the stranger behind.
Once you had reached his truck, he pushed you inside before he got into the driver’s seat and started the car. You were silent as the trees passed you. Your head was no longer spinning due to the lack of oxygen. You were finally starting to feel better.
So many things went to shit in so little time. One minute you were a regular college student trying to enjoy your summer in Outer Banks, and the next thing you knew Rafe was suffocating the life out of you. And the worst of it all was that you knew it wasn’t the end of it.
“You know, Y/N, I thought you were better than this,” he said as he kept his eyes on the road. “You do everything for those dirty Pogues, and what do they really give you? Or you only did it because of Maybank? Did he fuck you?”
You didn’t say a word. He was taunting you and you didn’t want to play his stupid game.
“Answer me.” His voice was low and calm, yet you knew it meant nothing good.
“No, for fuck’s sake,” you cried out.
“Good,” he smirked with a soft movement of his head. “You’re too pretty for him anyway.”
“Why are you doing this to me?” You were on the verge of a breakdown. First, he tried to kill you, and now you were too pretty for JJ. You didn’t understand him, but one thing you knew was that you needed to get that money back fast because he wasn’t going to leave you alone.
“You said it yourself, Y/N, you’re not that dumb. You will figure it out soon enough,” he said as he stopped the car and nudged your thigh, signaling that it was the end of the ride. “I’ll be back soon for the money.”
“And if I don’t have it, you’ll kill me?” you questioned, a sudden spurt of bravery making its appearance in your voice. “It’s not like it almost didn’t happen.”
“Yeah, sorry about that. It was a moment of weakness. I have much better plans for you actually,” he chuckled softly.
“Go to Hell, Rafe,” you scoffed before you got out of the car and made your way to your house.
“See you there, babe,” he yelled after you as he drove off, leaving you alone on the street.
You stepped inside the empty living room and plopped down on the couch, a frustrated sigh following your movements.
How were you supposed to get the money back in three days?
end of chapter 2.
if you liked this, please, consider leaving a comment or an anon ask... it means more to me than a like or reblog (even though reblogs are deeply appreciated). <3
series summary: the perfect summer quickly turns into an avalanche of unfortunate events when you and your friends try to blackmail Rafe Cameron.
chapter warnings: underage drinking; substance use; brief mention of masturbation.
links:
➱ divider i | (@/firefly-graphics)
➱ series masterlist
THE air was tense around The Chateau as you were waiting for JJ to get back. He should have gotten back half an hour before, yet he was still nowhere to be found. It wasn’t like he was incapable of buying a few snacks and drinks, but with the growing conflict between the Pogues and Kooks, you were getting worried. JJ was like a loose cannon that didn’t know how to shut up and when to leave a fight.
Yet, your mind quickly wandered off as Sarah’s and Kiara’s bickering hit your ear. Not only you were worried but frustrated too. Since Sarah had become kind of a Pogue, Kiara’s behavior was almost unbearable. You knew they had a history together, but all these petty fights were stressing you out, and it seemed like neither John B. nor Pope cared. Were you the only one with hearing organs or they had a superpower that tuned out their voices?
“Would you girls shut up?” you snickered as you threw your long-sleeved t-shirt at them. It hit Kiara in the face and she stopped talking, her gaze stopping on you.
“No, Y/N, I won’t. She’s not a Pogue,” she scoffed as she crossed her arms and sat back deeper into the couch. Kiara was much more mature than you – even though you were older – yet, she was acting like a child.
“You are not -,” Sarah started, but your frustrated sob cut her off.
“John B., please do something,” you cried out as you cast your eyes onto him.
Yet, he had no time as a relieved scream left your mouth when you had seen the post boy in the distance, “JJ, finally.”
You ran up to him, however, as you got closer to the blond kid your smile froze on your features. His lips were bruised and split, his shirt was decorated by blood and it was torn too.
“Shit. What happened to you?” you asked, but deep down you knew what happened.
“Rafe and Topper jumped me,” he explained, his eyes moving to his motorbike. It used to be your father’s, but as he no longer used it, and you had a bicycle, he gifted it to JJ. “But I’m still in better shape than my bike.”
You only nodded as you saw the trashed motorbike. The tiers were flat, probably sliced with a knife. The paint was scratched, the pristine artwork completely disappeared. It was a wreck from the outside, and you didn’t even know what they did to its inside.
You quietly walked back to your friends and sat down between Kiara and Sarah, hoping they wouldn’t argue over somebody.
“You okay, bro?” John B.’s question was met with a short nod and a small sigh.
“What now?” you asked as your hand hugged your wrist, your fingers playing with the gold bracelet you got from your mother for your fifteenth birthday.
“We get revenge, babe,” JJ noted as he fished out three can of beer from his bag and passed them to the boys.
“No, we won’t,” Kiara protested before standing up, a look of confusion and anger flashing through her features. “Are you crazy, JJ?”
“Probably,” he answered casually as he took a sip from the beer.
“What do you even want to do?” Pope chimed in, the cold can comfortably sitting in his palm, cooling him down.
“Not you too, Pope,” Kie cried out.
“Let’s hear him out, and then we can decide if we will do it or not,” you stated as you softly tugged on the brunette’s t-shirt. She sat back down next to you, but a slight pout seemed to sit out onto her lips.
“Okay, so here’s my plan, but I need Miss Figure Eight to help me,” he mumbled, his eyes falling onto Sarah.
“Hey, leave her out of it,” John B. remarked, his hand pushing JJ’s shoulders slightly, a soft hiss leaving the younger boy’s lungs.
“If she really wants to be Pogue, she can show it by helping us,” Kie’s voice filled the air, her tone venomous.
“I’m in,” Sarah gave in and waited for JJ to continue.
“Alright. So another bonfire is coming up which means Rafe and his little terror squad gonna be there, antagonizing us. While they are partying, one of us sneaks into his room and finds some dirt on him and then we blackmail him,” he explained and a smug smirk appeared on his face. “I’m a mastermind, aren’t I?”
“No, JJ! If anything you are out of your mind,” you retorted angrily. The last thing you needed was another possible lawsuit against you.
Your father was still mad at you for the whole weed fiasco with the neighbor. You were lucky Ward was at the station when you were brought in because if it wouldn’t have been for him, you could have kissed goodbye to college and your freedom too. While you were thankful that he helped you, you couldn’t shake that unexplainable weird feeling. He had been always nice to you, awfully so, but you never understood why. You never did anything for him, and you were sure your father hated his guts. So, it probably wasn’t a favor for an old friend.
“Well, I guess you vote against my plan,” he stated.
“Yeah.”
“What about you, guys?”
“Actually, what would I need to do?” Sarah asked with raised eyebrows.
“As I’m considerate enough,” JJ spoke before you lowly whispered ‘I wouldn’t have guessed he knows that word’ to Kie, earning a slight chuckle from her. “I don’t ask you to steal from your brother. You only have to make sure nobody is home, and we can easily get in.”
“Ward is out of town with Rose and Wheezie for the weekend, so I can leave the key under the doormat,” she announced.
“See, Y/N, easy access. Nobody is gonna be home. It’s basically a walk in the ocean.”
‘It’s not the right idiom,’ Pope muttered which went unnoticed by JJ.
“Right, well, then you can easily sneak in,” you prompted, a hint of annoyance in your voice. “The stage is all yours.”
“I was actually thinking about you,” he confessed, eyes almost as round as on your chewed-up teddy bear.
“Oh, no. Sorry, JJ, but no. I’m already on thin ice. Dad is still mad at me, and shit, if Cameron finds out it was me I’m gonna be thrown into jail. Not juvenile. Jail, JJ. I would be trialed as an adult,” you tried to defend yourself without any success.
“He’s not gonna find out, alright? Sarah’s going to keep an eye on him. Right, Miss Figure Eight?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“Why can’t you or Pope do it?”
“I didn’t want to tell you, but I think Rafe likes you.”
“What -?” you tried to ask, however, you were abruptly cut off.
“Hear me out, babe. Whenever you are around, he never picks up a fight. Like he wants to seem like a cool guy, but we all know he’s an asshole.”
“That still doesn’t answer my question.” You desperately wanted to get out of that situation. While JJ was your best friend – and hopefully you were his too – you weren’t going to follow him this time. The two of you did a lot of stupid things together, but it was time to say no. You were an adult now, and a long list of law offenses wasn’t the best look on your CV.
“We’ll get there soon, alright? Anyway, if Rafe sees all of us at the bonfire, he will know it wasn’t the Pogues.”
“But I wouldn’t be at the bonfire?” you said, almost questioning. You still didn’t understand why you had to be the one sneaking into the Cameron mansion. “And Rafe knows I hang out with you guys.”
“That’s the thing, Y/N. He knows you’re a Pogue, but he would never accuse you. In his eyes, you are his perfect little baby angel who can do no wrong,” he claimed, a disgusted look taking over his features.
“I actually think JJ’s right,” John B. agreed.
“Yep,” Kiara and Pope nodded too.
Were you really this blind? Boys were never really interested in you, except that one time when John B. tried to kiss you on your sixteenth birthday. However, that was a short-lived relationship as you declined his efforts of giving you your first kiss.
And Rafe out of all the boys on the island? The dick who jerked off at the thought of making your friends’ life miserable. It wasn’t like he wasn’t attractive from the outside, but his personality sure made him ugly.
“I don’t know, JJ. He’s not someone I want to mess with,” you sighed as you scratched your palm, “and Ward already helped me more than he had to.”
“What do you want?”
“What?”
“What do you want in return?” he repeated his question.
“You don’t give up, do you?”
“Never.”
“Fuck,” you muttered. “Okay, I’ll do it. But you own me big time.”
Your father was right when he said you should have learned how to say no a long time ago. The only reason JJ was always so persistent with you was because he knew that you would say yes to his grand plans, at the end of the day. You couldn’t blame him, it was your fault after all. You just hoped that this time you weren’t going to end up at the station with Peterkin again.
“You are the best,” he claimed before giving you a quick half hug.
You softly smiled at him before standing up, leaving your spot on the couch cold, “I need to go now. Text me the details, alright?”
“Yep. Bye, Y/N,” he waved at you.
“Bye, guys.”
The ride home was refreshing, even if the heat was unbearable. It was nice to have a ride before shit went down. You knew it wasn’t going to end well. It wasn’t just some petty crime against your neighbor who had no power on this island. It was Rafe with Ward Cameron as his father, and though Ward had a seemingly unexplainable soft spot for you that didn’t mean he would sacrifice his son for you.
Once you had arrived home, you stepped inside the warm house. This summer was the first of all. The air was hot and the humidity was suffocating. And the small ventilator you had in the living room was wrecked too, thanks to your clumsy German Shepard.
His welcoming barks hit your ears as he came to greet you.
“Were you good today?” you questioned as you ruffled his fur. “You were, weren’t you, Zeus?”
After spoiling your dog with a few belly rubs and a treat, you made your way to the kitchen and grabbed a cold bottle of flavored beer. While your father hated these fruity drinks, you couldn’t have imagined the summer afternoons without them. You were far from addicted to them, but it was nice to open one up from time to time.
You swiftly walked back to the living room and switched on the TV before plopping down on the sofa, the flavored alcohol slightly splashing out. A soft curse left your lips. The couch was already stained with every kind of drink and soda.
Your favorite show was on the TV when the door opened once again, revealing your tired father. His shirt was decorated by damp patches, his skin slightly glistening due to the sweat forming on his face. He sent a small hey in your direction as he dropped his sports bag next to the shoe rack before stepping to the armchair, and dropping into it.
“Hard day?” you asked.
“Yeah, something like that,” he answered as his eyes shifted to the moving frames on the TV. “What are we watching?”
“Just some reality,” you replied before taking a gulp from the now lukewarm beer.
He only nodded as his mind jumped to the next set of questions.
“Did you drop Alex off at Timmy’s?”
“Yeah, I did. I’ll pick him up tomorrow afternoon,” you said as you stood up and put the beer down with a soft clink.
“Right, thank you, darling.”
“I’ll be upstairs.”
You were almost at the bottom of the stairs when your father called your name out, making you come to halt.
“Yeah?”
“What do you want for dinner?” he questioned, without giving you any time to answer he continued, “I was thinking some spaghetti but we can order Chinese if you’d like to.”
“Uhm, actually…” you started as your hand massaged your own shoulder. You didn’t know how to tell him about the bonfire. While you were no longer grounded, you weren’t sure how would your father react to a party with a bunch of irresponsible teenagers, alcohol, and potential lawsuits.
“… there is a bonfire and you would rather go with your friends than have dinner with your old man,” he continued, making you wonder how he would know about the bonfire without you mentioning it.
You weren’t even planning on going until JJ asked you to go on a suicide mission.
“Now, I feel like an asshole,” you awkwardly chuckled as you cracked your knuckles, waiting for an answer.
A deep laugh left his lungs as he stepped closer to you, his fingers hugging your wrist, “I was just teasing you. Just because you live at home, you’re still an adult, pumpkin. You can do what you want. Just text me if you won’t come home, alright?”
“Right, thank you, dad! You’re the best.” You sounded way too eager for somebody who was going to break into the Cameron household. It was probably the adrenaline mixed with the uncertainty of the night.
“If I remember correctly three weeks ago I was a tyrant who loves controlling people,” he smirked at you, his tired eyes showing a faint light of mischief, the one your mother always talked about. She was sure you were just like your father and your trouble-making tendencies were due to his erratic behavior as a young adult. You never argued on her hypothesis as she was the goody-good-shoes of Figure Eight until she married your father, but that was a different story…
“People change,” you chuckled before the phone in your back pocket started vibrating, signaling that you have an unread message. It was probably JJ. “I should be getting ready.”
“Have fun, pumpkin.”
The warm breeze softly caressed your skin as you biked through Figure Eight, your jealousy spiking up as your eyes drank in the beautiful lawns, pretty flowerbeds, and the million-dollar mansions. While your life wasn’t that bad on The Cut, you knew that it would be so much easier on this side of the island. But life was unfair, and some people weren’t born lucky.
When you reached Tannyhill, you dropped your bike behind some bushes, in case you weren’t as alone as Sarah had told you. Breaking and entering were enough on your consciousness, you didn’t need it on your list of crimes too.
You walked up to the front door, knocked once, then again, and when nobody answered you grabbed the spare key that was hiding under the doormat. You twisted the key and the door swiftly opened with a soft click. Stepping inside the hallway, your eyes met with the richly decorated rooms, the pang of jealousy firing up in your heart once again. Rafe was an asshole, and yet, he hit the fucking jackpot. It wasn’t like you were an angel in the whitest gown, but fuck, your petty crimes were nothing compared to some things he did.
You quickly reached his room thanks to the instructions Sarah had texted you and stepped inside Pandora’s box. The smell of overwhelming perfume hit your nose, making you slightly sick.
What were you supposed to do now? He probably didn’t keep a diary…
As you moved closer to the nightstand, your gaze caught a wad of cash and a few small bags of white powder. Your eyes almost balled out of their sockets as you kept glaring at the packaged substances. Shit, you knew he was no good, but fucking with cocaine? That was wild.
Grabbing the money, you pondered if taking it was a good idea. ‘He probably isn’t going to miss it’ you kept telling yourself as you slid it into your pocket, feeling a weird mixture of happiness and anxiety.
Yet, that joy quickly left your body when you heard his voice getting clearer with every passing footstep, and you prayed to every god up there he just had to come home for some booze… but you never were a lucky girl.
Your movements were haste as you hid under his bed, your skin chaffing against the carpet, leaving it feeling like it was on fire.
“No, no,” he stumbled on his words as he stepped into his room, a heavy sigh escaping from his lips. “I’ll get the money… just give me one more week.”
“Shit,” he screamed, his phone falling onto the bed with a small thud. “Fucking dick.”
You could have only guessed what happened, when your phone softly vibrated, signaling an unread message from Sarah. ‘You need to leave ASAP!!! Cant find Rafe!!’ the text read. ‘Its not possible at this moment’ you wrote back quickly.
‘????’
‘Im under his bed, and god knows what hes doing here right now’ your fingers furiously typed back. You heard his movements as he opened the wardrobe, rummaging through it. You wondered what he was searching for so desperately.
‘Ill call him’
A few seconds later you heard Rafe’s phone going off, however, he was quick to tap the decline button, giving you no chance to escape. Your screen lit up once again with Sarah’s text, ‘sorry’.
‘its fine’ you sent her one last message before putting your phone back into its hiding place.
It had been almost twenty minutes since Rafe had arrived, and there was still no opportunity for you to leave. You were getting frisky. Your limbs were starting to cramp, your head was aching for fresh air and you were hungry too. You cursed yourself for not staying home with your father. You could be in your bed, fed and clean, comfortably scrolling through your phone and liking your college friends’ pictures.
“Wanna continue the party?” his voice filled the room, making you snap out of your thoughts. You were going to get royally screwed. Not only you had to deal with Rafe, but now his friend too. Great, just how you planned. “Twenty minutes? I’ll take a shower, then I’ll pick you up. Yeah, cool.”
A slight grin made its way onto your lips as you finally saw the light at the end of the dark tunnel. Maybe you had some luck after all.
You waited until you heard the water running, and carefully climbed out. You couldn’t help but let your eyes wander to the white powder. Your father would kill you for doing this, however, he wasn’t here and what he didn’t know, couldn’t hurt him. You quickly opened one of the bags and poured a short line onto the nightstand before snorting it up with the help of a rolled-up dollar. You bundled the rest of the small package into your farmer shorts and got ready to leave.
“Oh, fuck, (Y/N).” Your head snapped into the direction of the bathroom. There was no fucking way he knew you were there, and it sounded more like a moan. Was he jerking off at the thought of you? “Ah, shi – shit, babe. I’m gonna cum.”
You were certain he was, and what JJ had told you earlier, you knew it wasn’t just some other girl with the same name as you. While the thought of a boy liking you flattered your egoism, you couldn’t help but curse whoever you could for letting that boy be Rafe.
With a shake of your head, you hastily left the house.
🌤️
On your way home you called JJ, yet only his cheery voicemail greeted you, making you end the phone call with a frustrated sigh. You hoped he was okay. He wasn’t the most responsible person you knew, but when it came to his friends, he never bailed on them.
Your ears perked up as you heard a car getting closer to you, the headlights illuminating the road ahead of you. It was Rafe. You didn’t have to look behind to know it was him as his truck shortly reached you and slowed down.
He wasn’t going to leave you alone, was he?
“If it isn’t a Pogue on Kook territory,” he taunted with a soft smirk. He was enjoying it.
“Leave me alone, Rafe,” you muttered, small drops of sweat beading on your forehead. Your heart was beating in your ears and your stomach was aching. You were a grade-A dumbass. You knew you did stupid things, but snorting cocaine was even dumb coming from you.
“Hey, you okay?” Was that a hint of sympathy in his voice?
“What do you think, Rafe?” you cried out as you kept riding your bike. Your vision was getting blurry as tears formed in your eyes.
You felt like you were dying.
“Do you want me to drop you home?”
You didn’t want to be in the same car as him, however, you weren’t sure you would get home in this state. Your head was spinning and you were close to vomiting the beer you drank in the afternoon.
“Yeah,” you gave in and got off your bike, and waited for him to park in front of you.
He got out of his truck and strolled closer to you. His hands reached for your cheeks, making you slightly wince. He softly lifted your face, his eyes searching for yours. You did everything to avoid his gaze, but still, you were sure he knew your irises were only thin rings around your pupils.
“Get in the car,” he ordered you and grabbed your bike, loading it up.
Every bone in your body was screaming for you to just get back on your bike and ride back home, yet you did as he asked and got yourself comfortable in the passenger seat. He shortly followed your movements and pushed the shift into the drive gear.
The soft breeze felt refreshing against your hot skin, yet your body couldn’t relax as Rafe’s eyes kept wandering over to you.
“Where did you get it?” his voice was filled with anger and anxiety.
“It doesn’t matter,” you mumbled, your gaze falling to your naked wrist. A small ‘shit’ left your lips as you saw your missing bracelet, the last thing that had reminded you of her, and now it was gone.
“What happened?”
You pursued your lips as you lifted your gaze up to his face, a gash on his cheek catching your eyes. “I could ask you the same thing.”
“Had a run-in with a few kids from The Cut.”
“Was it my friends?”
“No.”
You had a feeling he was lying to you, but you only nodded, not wanting to push the subject any further. You were scared of him, and one bad word could have gotten you into the worst situation ever. He had power over your life at that moment, and you weren’t going to mess up.
After that, the ride was quiet, eerily quiet until you reached The Cut when his voice flew through the car.
“Where to?” he questioned.
“You know Mandy’s Liquer Shop?”
“Yeah.”
“Right after that there’s an intersection, you take a right there and you just go until you see a street lamp. That’s my stop,” you explained. While you finally were feeling better and it seemed like your head ache had withered away, the pain in your stomach still reminded you of your foolishness. You understood now why your father was so reluctant to let you live on the campus.
You kept your eyes trained on the passing trees. It wasn’t long before you got home.
“We’re here,” he noted before he got out of the car, and you did the same and followed him to the trunk of his car. He swiftly grabbed your bike before handing it to you.
“Right, uhm... thanks for the ride,” you awkwardly cleared your throat. You felt like an asshole. “Have a good night.”
“You too.”
You gave him a tight-lipped smile and left him at the side of the road before you propped your bike against the porch and stepped inside your home. Your father was in the living room, watching some horror movie. A slight grin sat onto his features as he saw you, his eyes lighting up.
“Already back?” he asked, his voice laced with concern.
“Yeah. I’m just really tired,” you lied as you strolled closer to the stairs, grabbing te railing. “Zeus?”
“In your room, waiting for you,” he answered, his gaze moving back to the film.
“Good night, dad.”
“Good night, pumpkin.”
You slowly reached your room and fell into your bed, only to feel Zeus’ tongue licking the dry sweat off your temple. You felt guilty but you didn’t know why. Rafe was an asshole, a rich, spoiled dick. Yet, he had brought you home without any ulterior motive.
Maybe it wasn’t even guilt that was eating your heart away, but worry and fear. He had a father who would do anything to keep the Cameron name clean, and you didn’t even dare to think about what Rafe was going to do to you once he found out it was you who stole his drug money.
end of chapter 1.
note: you might think you already read this one, and you are right. however, on my other account, there has been a problem with my posts not showing up in the tags... so, i'm hoping that instead of creating a new account, a side-blog will be a better option...
