pogue!sweetheart!reader meeting rafe for the first time? 🍰
♡ — warnings : a lil bit of flirting, slight fluff
“girl scout, two o’clock.” kelce cleared his throat, topper and rafe following his gaze. you stood at the receptionist desk, chatting with the director about your plans for the week. “is she really a girl scout?” rafe’s eyes trailed down the soft curls of your hair, stopping just above the neckline of your top.
“nah, we just call her that because she sells cookies and shit. ‘really good by the way, highly recommend.” kelce leaned back in his seat, forgetting all about the cards in his hands as you started making your way towards the three of them. rafe would be lying if he said the way his friends ogled you didn’t bother him.
“hey! what game are you guys playing?” you sat your basket down on the hardwood table, eyes flickering over to rafe. “just some solitaire.” topper shrugged, removing the cloth that covered your treats. “what do you got for us this week, doll?” if rafe was bothered earlier, he was even more so now.
you smiled, tilting the basket so they can all steal a peek. “shortbread and chocolate chip.” rafe didn’t care to look at anything else other than your face, his gaze sweeping over your features. “i’ve never seen you before.” he finally spoke up, his voice immediately drawing your attention.
“uhm, i don’t think i’ve seen you either..” you extended a hand, “what’s your name?” rafe didn’t hesitate to return your gesture, taking your hand in his. “rafe, and yours?” your heart skipped a beat when you felt his thumb stroke your skin. “y/-” kelce chimed in before you could answer his question.
“i’ll take two of each. and one of you.” rafe’s head shot in his friends direction, his grip on your wrist tightening. laughing nervously, you brushed off kelce’s remark. “actually, he’s not taking anything. i, however, would like the whole basket.” shaking your head, you waited for rafe to say he was kidding.
“oh! you’re serious-” rafe got up, taking the basket in his free hand as he led you two outside and away from his obnoxious buddies. “what the hell!” topper shouted. without protesting, you allowed rafe to take you to a more secluded space, your dainty heels clicking against the pavement.
“is everything okay? i-” rafe stopped in front of the country club’s garden. “do you have a boyfriend?” he blurted, making you stumble over your next few words. “uhm, well! no, but..” taking his wallet out of his pocket, rafe took a couple hundred dollar bills before cutting you off.. again.
“not that it matters if you do, cause i’ll just take his place.” the certainty in his voice made your face flush with a new profound sense of shyness. he placed the folded bills in your palm, a smile forming on his lips at your smitten expression. “how are you so sure that you’ll be my boyfriend?” you asked.
☆ warnings! ☆ 18+ · SMUT · obsession · jealousy · toxic behavior · manipulation · angst · unhealthy dynamics · other bad stuff · MDNI · proceed with caution.
☆ he gets under your skin; you haunt his thoughts. neither of you mean for it to happen, but it does. it's impossible to ignore and even harder to escape. it's something neither of you can really name, but you don't have to, because the quiet between you already has. ☆
☆ timeline! ☆ based VERY loosely on the original plot, i cherry picked · don't squint too hard or it won't make sense. everyone in this story is over the age of 21, small age gap between rafe and reader.
☆ hints of jj maybank x reader, sarah doesn't really exist! ☆
⎯ this story is kind of written as a montage of sorts, a little blocky, a little fast, but it still tells a story. this is the first time i’ve ever committed to writing a story. it’s not perfect, but it’s mine. pls be nice!!!!
⎯ i will link each chapter as it gets posted to this list!
S1 Rafe, who needs to be the center of your world.
if your attention shifts even for a second, your phone buzzes, you laugh too hard at someone else’s joke, you forget to text back, he spirals. not loudly at first, just that cold silence. that look.
and then the comments start
“So you’re just... too busy for me now?”
“Cool. Guess i know where i stand.”
“Glad i came all this way just to watch you pretend i’m not here.”
he questions every photo you post.
“who’s that for?”
“You forget you have a boyfriend or what?”
“You want people looking at you like that?”
“Guess you need attention that bad.”
and god, when he takes you to parties, it’s like you’re a trophy. His hand on your waist, his arm around your shoulder, like a warning. But the second someone glances at you wrong, or a guy says something he doesn’t like, it’s on. Suddenly he’s whispering in your ear with that sharp edge in his voice, pulling you away from the crowd, ready to explode. he’s possessive. intense. makes you feel like you’re the only thing holding him together.
and maybe you are.
but being with Rafe feels like walking on glass barefoot, and you're still convincing yourself that the blood is worth it.
Warnings: DUB-CON, toxic relationship, jealous!Rafe, public indecency, possessive behavior, fighting also english isn’t my first language.
Summary: You wanted to go on a romantic date — too bad your boyfriend has different plans.
Word count: 3k
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“I just have some shit to do, okay?” Rafe muttered over the phone, his tone clipped and dismissive.
Lately, that was all he ever said when you asked if he wanted to hang out. No explanation, no effort—just excuses. It was frustrating. Maddening, even.
Things weren’t always like this. For almost two years of you dating, Rafe had always made time for you. Back then, you were inseparable, stealing every free moment just to be together. But now?
It had been months since you’d gone on a proper date. Just the two of you. His lapdogs always coming along.
Well—except for the times when he fucked you. It seemed like the only thing Rafe wanted to do with you.
“Whatever.” You muttered before hanging up, frustration burning in your chest. Was it really that hard for him to make time for you? You weren’t asking for much.
Shaking it off, you decided to grab breakfast by yourself.
You were at The Wreck when you spotted Sarah sitting with her group of questionable friends. Not that Rafe was any less dubious himself.
He was always warning you about Pogues, telling you to stay away from them. But right now, you were so mad at him that you decided to do the exact opposite.
So, when Sarah came up to you and asked if you wanted to join them, you agreed. It was kind of awkward at first, especially since you’d never really hung out with her friend group before. But after some time, you started to actually enjoy it. The conversation flowed easier, and you found yourself laughing at things you wouldn’t normally find funny. It felt… different, but in a good way.
“So, we were thinking about hitting the beach later. Are you joining us?” Pope asked, and you thought it was really sweet of him to include you.
“Oh, I mean, you probably have plans with your boyfriend or something,” he added quickly, looking a little embarrassed by his question.
You smiled, trying to ease his discomfort. “No, I don’t have anything to do today, so if that’s not a problem, I’d love to join you guys.”
That day you came home later than you thought you would—it was already pretty dark outside. You were having so much fun with Sarah, John B, Kiara, JJ, and Pope, especially Pope, that you had completely lost track of time.
Young Heyward was so sweet and open-minded, and even though your boyfriend was such an asshole to him, he still got along with you effortlessly. You appreciated that more than you could say.
As you walked inside, your phone buzzed. It was a text from Pope: “Hope you made it home safely.” You smiled, feeling a warmth you hadn’t expected.
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The next morning, Rafe texted you.
“Be there in 10.”
No good morning, no want to hang out? It rubbed you the wrong way. Whenever you wanted to make plans, he was always too busy. But when he decided to see you, you had to drop everything. It felt… one-sided.
Still, you pushed the thought away and got ready. Not long after, you heard the sound of Rafe’s truck pulling into the driveway, followed by your mother opening the door for him.
Your parents adored Rafe. To them, he was the perfect match—good-looking, rich, and charismatic. The kind of guy any girl on the island would be lucky to have.
You sat in Rafe’s car, the engine humming softly beneath you. He hadn’t said much— his eyes stayed fixed on the road, only flicking toward you for the briefest second before looking ahead again.
“So… where are we going?” you finally asked, breaking the silence.
“My place,” he said, not even sparing you a glance.
The second you stepped into his room, Rafe was on you—no hesitation, no words. His hands were rough, stripping you down like he’d been waiting for this all night.
And for a moment, you let yourself believe that this—this—meant something. That maybe he missed you. Maybe he still cared.
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"Fuck, you're so perfect," he groaned, his body still trembling against yours as he collapsed on top of you.
The room was filled with the sound of heavy breathing, the scent of sweat and sex clinging to the air as you both came down from the high of it all.
Then, he started kissing you again, leaving small, lingering marks on your neck, each touch deliberate and slow, sending a shiver down your spine.
“I have to go, though,” he said as he get up from bed, already reaching for his clothes, slipping on his pants like he hadn’t just had you in every possible position.
You sat up, the warmth of his body still lingering against your skin. “Already?” You didn’t even try to hide the disappointment in your voice.
“Yeah. Topper and Kelce will be here soon.”
Your stomach twisted. Of course. He couldn’t even spend one full day with you without them showing up.
“They’re coming too?” you asked, unable to keep the distaste from your tone.
Rafe smirked. “Come on, no need to be jealous. It’s not like I’m fucking them too or something.”
Oh yeah. That definitely made you feel better.
You exhaled sharply, pressing your lips together before muttering, “I thought it’d be just us this time.”
Rafe’s eyes darkened at your tone. “Oh, fuck. Are you seriously about to throw a tantrum because I want to spend time with my friends?”
“No. But when you guys hang out, all you do is scream at the TV, drink beer, and talk shit about people. That’s not exactly my idea of fun.”
He scoffed. “It’s not like you can’t invite your friends over too.”
You shot him a pointed look. “Yeah, except I can’t—because you don’t like them. And whenever they are around, you’re mean to them.”
“Not my fault you pick the wrong friends,” he said with a shrug, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Anger bubbled up in your chest before you could stop it. “Maybe I picked the wrong boyfriend.” The words slipped out, barely a whisper—more for yourself than him.
But Rafe did hear.
In an instant, he was in front of you, gripping your jaw, forcing your gaze to his. His face was too close, his breath hot against your skin. His blue eyes burned into yours, dark with something unreadable.
“What was that?” His voice was low, dangerous.
“Nothing,” you muttered quickly, suddenly regretting every single word.
Rafe’s grip didn’t loosen. “No, say that shit again,” he challenged.
But before you could respond, the doorbell rang. His head snapped toward the sound, jaw clenched. Without another word, he let go and stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
So, you spent the rest of the day with Rafe and his friends. It was just as boring as you’d expected—nothing but drinking, shouting over the TV and mindless video games, and talking trash about Pogues, but you endured it. Like always. You had nothing else to do anyway, and you were just so desperate to be with your boyfriend, even if it meant settling for something that didn’t feel right.
”Rafe, can you drive me home?” you asked after realizing it was getting late.
“Can’t you stay the night?” he countered, a smirk tugging at his lips—the one you knew all too well. Before you could respond, he leaned in, pressing a slow kiss to your neck before burying his face there.
“I can’t, I need to—” You barely got the words out before he lifted his head, his eyes locking onto yours, almost pleading.
“Pretty please, hmm? We could go to the movies tomorrow. I heard they’re playing one of those trash romance films you like so much,” he teased, trying to sway you.
“They’re not trash, Rafe,” you mumbled, heat rising to your cheeks.
“Of course.” His grin widened. “So, do we have a deal?”
And that’s how you ended up spending the night at the Cameron estate.
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You were beyond happy that Rafe had actually taken you out on a date, so you made sure to dress up nicely. Luckily, you kept some of your clothes in his closet, and after a little searching, you picked out a pretty blue dress—one you knew he’d like.
At the outdoor cinema, the two of you sat side by side in fold-out chairs, the massive screen glowing in front of you. The night air was warm, the low hum of the movie filling the space around you. Popcorn and soda in your lap, Rafe finishing off a beer. It had been about twenty minutes into the film, and you were really enjoying it so far.
Rafe, on the other hand, clearly wasn’t.
You could feel his eyes on you more than the screen, stealing glances instead of paying attention. And then, his hand found your thigh. It was nothing unusual—he did that often—but as the minutes passed, his fingers slowly started to creep higher.
“Rafe,” you warned softly.
He only hummed in response, pretending not to hear the hint of caution in your voice. Instead of stopping, his hand slid up even further.
“Just relax,” Rafe murmured, his voice low and commanding as his fingers grazed over the thin fabric of your underwear.
When he pulled your panties to the side, a rush of fear hit you—there were people around, and you couldn’t shake the worry of being seen. But despite the anxiety, a soft, involuntary sound escaped you—a mix between a sigh and a whimper. Rafe’s eyes stayed fixed on you, sharp and analytical, drinking in every reaction.
His thumb drifted upward, tracing slow, deliberate circles over your clit, his touch both torturous and addicting. His eyes darken as he watched you tremble beneath him. “Just like that” he whispered and without warning, he slipped two fingers inside, stretching you open—your breath caught, your body arching as you surrendered to his touch.
You were still a little sore from last night, a lingering ache that blended with the slow, building pleasure. Rafe was gentle, his touch careful yet deliberate, each movement sending a wave of warmth through you. You could feel your body responding to him, a building tension deep inside, and before long, you came on his fingers, a rush of pleasure flooding you.
“Good girl,” Rafe murmured, his voice low and filled with obvious satisfaction as he watched you, the praise made you shiver.
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After that, Rafe let you watch the movie in peace, mostly staying on his phone. You smiled to yourself, enjoying one of the movie’s scenes—it was so cute and romantic. Then, suddenly, you heard that familiar voice. “Hi, man” It was Topper. Fucking Topper. What was he doing here?
“What’s up, bro?” your boyfriend responded.
“Come on, baby,” Rafe said softly, gesturing for you to move onto his lap so Topper could take your seat. At this point, you were so frustrated you didn’t even care. You made room for Topper, just wanting to finish the movie. But, of course, now they were talking, disturbing your focus.
You needed a break from all this, so you stood up, telling them you were going to grab some soda.
You picked up your snack from the concession stand and were heading back when you heard a voice behind you. “Hi.” It was JJ, waving at you, with Pope standing beside him.
“Oh, hey! Are you guys enjoying the movie?” you asked, trying to keep it light.
Pope froze for a second, clearly caught off guard by your attention. He hesitated, his eyes darting between you and JJ, clearly uncomfortable. JJ, sensing the awkwardness, quickly chimed in, “Yeah, the film’s great, right Pope?”
The boy cleared his throat, his voice quieter than usual. “Uh, yeah… yeah, it’s really great,” he stammered, unable to hide the nervousness in his tone. His gaze lingered on you for just a moment before he quickly looked away, his face flushing slightly.
You wanted to talk to them a little more, but you knew you couldn’t keep Rafe waiting. He’d get suspicious, like he always did. So, with a quick smile, you said, “Alright, gotta go, see you guys later,” turning on your heels to walk away. But as you took a step, you suddenly froze. Rafe’s gaze was locked on you, his eyes burning with fury and jealousy. The intensity of his stare made your heart race, and you could feel the weight of his anger without even needing to say a word.
“Rafe,” you started, trying to calm him down, hoping he’d understand it was just a casual conversation about the film, nothing serious. But Rafe didn’t have it. Without warning, he stormed over to the Pogues, Topper right behind him.
“Come on, man, we were just talking,” JJ tried to reason with him, his voice tense. But it was no use. Rafe’s temper was already boiling over. He swung, landing a punch straight to JJ’s face.
JJ hit the ground hard, dazed, and Rafe stood over him, seething. “My girl won’t be talking to some fucking Pogues,” he spat, the words sharp and full of contempt. The spit hit the ground beside JJ.
Pope, fuming with anger, couldn’t hold back anymore. “You’re a fucking psycho!” he shouted at Rafe, his voice shaking with fury. But before he could say another word, Topper stepped in. Grabbing Pope by the shirt, he slammed his fist into his stomach repeatedly, each hit harder than the last. Pope gasped, his breath knocked out of him, struggling to stay on his feet as Topper’s blows landed with brutal force.
The crowd had gathered around, forming a tight circle, all eagerly watching the chaos unfold. They were shouting, urging the fight on with loud cheers and taunts.
JJ had managed to get back on his feet, fists raised, and the fight between him and Rafe ignited again. You couldn’t stand it anymore.
“Stop! Please, just stop!” you begged, rushing between them, your voice trembling. You grabbed Rafe’s arm, trying to pull him back, but he was still seething. JJ was breathing heavily, his face bruised from the last punch, but he wasn’t backing down either.
“You look at her again, I’ll fucking break your skull open!” Rafe shouted, his voice filled with raw fury.
You turned just in time to see Topper’s hands wrapped around Pope’s throat, choking him. Pope’s face was turning red, his eyes wide in panic as he struggled to breathe, unable to draw in enough air. The sight sent a wave of panic through you, but the violence was escalating so quickly, you didn’t know how to stop it.
The sudden wail of police sirens cut through the chaos, and in an instant, the crowd started scattering, running in all directions to avoid getting caught. Topper finally released his grip on Pope, letting him collapse to the ground, gasping for air. He quickly turned to Rafe, his eyes wide with urgency.
“Come on, the cops are here!” Topper shouted, pulling at Rafe’s arm. But Rafe, still seething with rage, shoved JJ one last time, sending him stumbling back.
“You’re lucky, bitch,” Rafe spat, his voice low and full of venom. His eyes remained locked on JJ for a moment, as if daring him to do something. But as the sirens grew louder, Rafe finally turned. His gaze shifted to you, and without warning, he grabbed your wrist, his grip tight and almost painful.
“You’re not so much,” he muttered, his voice dripping with frustration and possessiveness as he began to drag you through the crowd. You stumbled to keep up with him, the chaotic scene still unfolding behind you, but Rafe wasn’t paying attention to anything else.
And you? You were furious about what he meant by that.
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He dragged you all the way down to his truck. You didn’t see a soul around—he had parked in an empty, desolate spot. The sky had started to turn a deep navy blue as dusk settled in. Without warning, he slammed you onto the car, pinning you against its metal surface.
“I leave you for one second, and you go running to the Pogues?” he shouted, his voice seething with fury. His hair was messy from the fight, blood staining his chin and soaking through his shirt, his appearance wild and chaotic.
“I was just saying hi.” you said, barely able to get the words out
“For what? You want to fuck him? Or maybe you already did, huh? Did you fuck JJ?” he hissed, his voice full of venom. He was breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling with each labored breath. You shook your head, but it only seemed to make Rafe angrier. “How about Pope, hmm? He was blushing like a bitch” he sneered. Then, with a swift motion, he punched his car with a fist, so close to your head that you flinched, fear coursing through you. For the first time in your life, you were so terrified that you truly thought he was going to kill you.
Rafe’s eyes locked onto yours, intense and burning with fury as he snarled, “Maybe you fucked them both?” He grabbed your throat, and you could feel his bloodied knuckles pressing against your skin. His face inches from yours, his breath hot and heavy, noses nearly touching. “Were you a good cumdumpster to them?” he hissed, and the words made you want to vomit.
Tears blurred your eyes and stained your face as Rafe roughly turned you around, his chest pressing hard against your back, his breath hot and heavy against your skin. One of his hands was still on your shoulder, gripping it tightly, while the other moved toward his pants. You heard the sound of him unbuckling his belt, and it made you whimper, a wave of terror washing over you.
Rafe didn’t even take the time to prepare you, shoving his full length inside you, his face buried in the back of your neck and your hair as he muttered with disgust, “God, you’re so pathetic, I can’t even look at you.”
Heyy! I’m new to your page and I’ve been reading your posta from the oldest to the newest, kudos girl! And I most love your angst-fluff writings sooo I would like to request a jealous Reader (in a healthy way) and just Rafe being Rafe. Hopefully you can read this, thank you in advance! Keep up the good work reallyyy! Much love from Italy. 💕
Thank you that really means a lot to me!! I hope you like it!
No Sharing Policy
Rafe Cameron x Reader
The bonfire cast a lazy orange glow across the sand, the air thick with salt and smoke and laughter. She sat perched on a driftwood log, knees tucked close to her chest, a plastic cup cradled between her hands. Her cheeks were warm— partly from the drink, partly from the summer night — but mostly from how hard she was laughing.
Jesse, some college friend of Sarah’s, was sitting beside her, retelling a story about a camping trip gone wrong. He was loud, animated, and flailing his arms like a cartoon. She didn’t even register when she touched his arm mid-laugh —just a quick brush, light and unthinking.
But Rafe saw it.
From where he sat just a few feet away, he didn’t miss a thing.
His jaw clenched as he watched the scene, muscles tight under his t-shirt, thumb flicking against the rim of his drink. The guy was leaning in, too close. She was laughing, too hard. And Rafe? He was two seconds away from snapping the neck off his bottle.
She looked radiant, all soft smiles and golden skin in the firelight. And that should’ve made him feel lucky. But right now, all he felt was territorial.
He stood without a word and turned toward the dunes.
She noticed the shift almost instantly.
“Rafe?” she called, her voice laced with confusion.
He didn’t stop walking.
She followed after him, sandals crunching in the sand. The closer she got, the more she felt it — the tension practically humming off his shoulders. He stopped at the back of his truck, arms crossed, gaze on the dark water just beyond.
“Hey,” she said softly, coming up beside him. “What’s going on?”
He didn’t look at her when he spoke.
“You looked like you were having fun. Figured I’d give you some space to keep enjoying it.”
Her brows furrowed. “What does that mean?”
Rafe’s eyes finally cut to hers. They were sharp, unreadable, a little cold in that way he got when something was bothering him more than he wanted to admit.
“You were laughing at everything he said like he was the funniest damn guy in the world,” he said. “And touching him like you didn’t even notice.”
She blinked, confused. “What? Jesse?”
“Yeah. Asshole Jesse.” He scoffed, the name tasting bitter on his tongue. “You really don’t see it, do you?”
Her voice softened. “See what?”
“He’s flirting with you. Has been all night. And you—” he huffed, running a hand down his face, “—you’re just sitting there giggling, hanging off his words like he’s worth your time.”
“Rafe,” she said, brows drawing together, “I didn’t even realize—”
“Exactly.” He stepped closer now, voice low but steady. “You didn’t realize. But I did. I saw every second of it.”
She opened her mouth, but he kept going.
“I don’t like it when other guys think they have a shot. Especially not right fuckin’ in front of me.” His tone wasn’t loud. But it was tight. Possessive. Firm. “You’re mine. That’s not up for debate.”
That word. Mine. It echoed in her chest louder than the waves crashing in the distance.
Her heart softened even as her breath caught a little.
“Rafe,” she said again, gentler this time, placing her hand on his chest. “I’m not interested in him. Or any guy like him. You know that, right?”
He didn’t answer.
She stepped closer, her other hand sliding up to cup his jaw, thumb brushing his cheek.
“Baby,” she whispered, eyes locking with his, “I only ever want you.”
He stared at her for a beat— like he was trying to decide if he believed her, or maybe trying to stop himself from doing something reckless, like dragging her into the leather backseat just to prove a point.
Then, finally, he exhaled. Some of the tightness eased from his shoulders.
“You laugh like that with me,” he muttered, quieter now, his hands finding her waist. “But tonight, it felt like I wasn’t even in the room.”
She smiled gently. “That’s because you were sitting over there brooding like a storm cloud.”
“I wasn’t brooding.” He said like he was offending at the statement.
“You totally were.”
He rolled his eyes with a small smile and then his grip tightened just a little —not rough, but secure. “He got to sit next to you. Got to touch your arm. That should’ve been me.”
She leaned in and kissed him once, slow and warm.
“It’s always you, Rafe.”
His eyes searched hers like he was looking for any cracks in that truth. When he found none, he kissed her back —deeper, more heated, both hands on her hips now, anchoring her to him like he was scared she’d slip away if he let go.
“I don’t like sharing,” he mumbled against her mouth.
“You don’t have to,” she breathed, smiling. “I’m yours.”
He kissed her again like that was the only answer he ever needed.
summary: rafe purposely gets you pregnant against your own will after you choose the pogues instead of him.
warnings: 18+ !!, DUBCON, forced pregnancy, toxic relationship, abusive relationship, dark!rafe, arguing, fighting, choking, SMUT, fingering, slapping, unprotected sex (p in v) forced sex, jealous!rafe, kinda stalker!rafe, kidnapping(?), creampie, teen pregnancy. (lmk if anymore!)
: ̗̀➛ 𝓶𝔂 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ PART 2
you had been at john b’s chateau for most of the day hanging out with your friends, but you’d promised your parents you’d be home before midnight. looking at the time on your phone, you noticed it was 11:13 pm.
you’d been drinking a little bit, and so had your friends, so driving home wasn’t an option. “guys, i’m gonna need to leave soon” you say over the mild volume of music playing.
“why?” kiara asks. “my parents told me i had to be home before 12. they’re kinda worried about me because of the whole.. you know.. rafe thing” you reply.
over the past few weeks you’d been going through a rough breakup with rafe. you couldn’t handle him anymore. his anger, his jealousy, his everything. he was no good for you anymore, and with the whole rafe vs pogues situation, you had to pick a side. your boyfriend or your best friends.
you had to pick your friends. there was no other choice, no other way out. rafe had tormented your friends for months. he pulled his gun on them, he beat them up, he attempted to kill kiara and his own sister sarah. and he almost killed you.
you’d lost track of how many fights you had with him, how many times he hit you and you hit him back. the screaming wars you’d have always ended up with him choking you or slapping you, and ward having to physically pull him away from you.
you just couldn’t put up with him anymore. he was manipulative, toxic, and most of all abusive. your friends knew about all of this, and tried so hard to get you away from him, but you couldn’t escape from him. he’d always convince you otherwise, guilt trip you, lie to you, twist your words…
“ya’ want me to walk you home?” jj asks, sitting beside you, smoking his blunt. you think about it for a second, but decline his offer. “thanks, but i’m okay, really. i’ll be fine” you nod and smile. “you sure?” sarah asks from across the room as they all practically look at you as if you were crazy. rafe was crazy, and if he saw you alone, only god knows what he would do…
“yeah, i’m good. i think i need to be alone anyway. take a nice walk by myself” you shrug. you hadn’t really had much alone time in months, considering you had a boyfriend glued to your hip out of distrust.
“okay, well, please call us if you need us, m’kay?” sarah says, walking over to you to hug you. she’s worried for you the most, you’re her best friend and her own brother is ruining your life. “i will, promise” you smile, standing up to hug her tightly.
“love you, y/n” kiara says with a smile as you walk out the door, saying bye to them all. you blow a kiss to kie before shutting the door behind you. they all know you’re going through a tough time, so they’re trying their best to be there for you and look out for you. they all love you.
walking home now, you stroll down the dark, long road ahead, with nothing surrounding you but tall trees and dim streetlights. no people, no lit-up houses, just dark and quiet streets with people in bed.
you walk for ten more minutes before you hear a car approaching from behind you. you give it no thought though, not wanting to worry yourself. the car gets closer, as if it were going to drive straight past you, but suddenly, you hear the car slowing down and eventually stopping right next to you. you don’t want to look, but you have to.
your heart sank into your chest when you noticed rafe’s black range rover, right as the window rolled down. it was rafe. “y/n get in.” his tone demanding and angry. “no, leave me alone.” you quickly turn around, power walking away. however, he only follows you. he slowly drives, following you, speeding up and slowing down whenever you do.
“y/n just get in i wanna talk” he says out the window, resting his arm on it as he watches you, attempting to talk to you. “rafe, leave me the fuck alone.” your voice gets louder, but you’re not yelling, yet. “save yourself the hassle and get in for fuck’s sake” he says, getting more frustrated by the second.
“no” you say, not looking in his direction at all. “oh my god” he says, sighing before putting the car in park and getting out. “no, go away!” you say, attempting to run but he grabs you before you can. you thrash around in his arms before he picks you up and drags you to his car.
“put me down!” you yell at him, trying to fight him but he is much stronger than you are. he opens the passenger door, shoving you inside before quickly getting in the drivers seat and locking the doors.
“what the fuck are you d—” you scream at him before his hand roughly covers your mouth, shutting you up. “i just wanted to talk, but you always have to make it hard, don’t you?” he says, eventually letting go of your mouth and seeing a mark left over from how tight his grip was.
“i don’t want to fucking talk! you yell as he rolls the windows all the way up so nobody can hear you fussing. “i don’t care. who the fuck do you think you are?” he yells at you, making you flinch. “what?” your eyebrows furrow.
“choosing those fucking trash pogues over me. are you serious? dumping me for them?” he argues. you’ve had this argument with him plenty of times, he seems to not be able to let it go. or let you go. “rafe. i didn’t want to be your girlfriend anymore, okay? you’re abusive, you’re mean, you’re—” you say, only to be cut off by his laughter. “abusive? for wanting to protect you? for wanting the best for you? right” he squints his eyes. “wanting the best for me? are you serious? you’ve done nothing but hurt me, and hurt my friends, including your own sister, by the way!” you argue, but he scoffs and tuts, as if they were nothing.
“because i told you so many fucking times to stay away from them, didn’t i?” he screams in your face, watching as you flinch with fear. “yeah, you did, but they are my friends, rafe, sarah is my best friend and you tried to kill her? she’s your fucking sister you should love her more than you love me” you say, voice getting higher out of frustration for him. how can he be so naive and cruel?
“her? she’s no sister of mine. that bitch has always been against me” he scoffs, speaking so lowly of his own little sister. “no she hasn’t, rafe!” you try to tell him, but every word that comes out of your mouth is a lie according to his delusions.
“right, whatever.” he rolls his eyes at you and your ‘lies’, but he just doesn’t want to accept the truth. he’s the problem, he turned everyone against himself. “i love you, yeah? i never stopped” he suddenly says, looking at you.
“well i have.” you say, but hearing those words were gut wrenching to him. you crossed the line. he unexpectedly and quickly reaches over, grabbing you by the throat and squeezing his fingers.
“i never wanna hurt you, y/n. you make me do it. i want to love you, but when you’re running off with your little friends behind my back, you make it hard to trust you, yeah?” he explains in his usual manipulative tone.
“rafe…” you force out, feeling as his grip tightens, his nails basically digging into your skin. “can you let me love you like i want to? like i’ve been trying to?” he asks, watching as your face turns redder and redder.
he loves watching you struggle, it was his favorite part of having power over you. it’s like it turns him on to hurt you. “please.. stop…” you struggle to say as he just keeps begging for your love.
“y/n, let me show you how much i really love you. please?” he asks softly, looking at you with adoration as if his own hand isn’t almost causing you to lose consciousness. he was psychotic. “ok.. ok.. yeah.. just let me go” you choke, nodding your head as fast as you can. you didn’t want to agree, but you had to otherwise he wasn’t going to stop.
and who knows what he would’ve done if you had passed out? you’d dread to think. “yeah? atta’ girl. i knew you’d come to terms with me sooner or later” he says, smiling as if he didn’t force the right answer out of you. he lets go of your throat, loving the sound of you gasping for air and regaining your breath.
you wanted to hit him so bad, you wanted to insult him and call him names but most importantly, you didn’t want him to actually kill you. “let’s go somewhere private, hm?” he suggests, like you could say no. you stay silent in his passenger seat, nodding at everything he’s saying, submitting to your fear of him.
he puts the car into gear and begins driving off. he drives five minutes down the road before turning down an off road path which lead to the lake, but he stopped in the secluded path surrounded by more trees, and more darkness.
turning his engine off, he turns to face you. “do you love me?” he asks. you’re terrified to answer. you’d be lying if you said yes, but if you said no, you’d find out. “…yes” you gulp, fearing him deeply. “good girl” he smirks, smelling your fear like a dog could.
he loves it. he loves you being afraid to say something he doesn’t want to hear, that’s the first step to being the perfect girlfriend in his eyes, you always know the right answer.
he turns in his seat to face you, reaching his hand over to your thigh. he rubs it, trailing his hand up and closer to your pussy, but you shift your legs the other way to move his hand away, making him grab your thigh and moving it back to where it was.
“don’t act like you don’t want it. you just said you love me” he leans over, darkly whispering in your ear which sent shivers down your spine. “i.. i do” you lie, not wanting to send him over the edge. he smirks at your words, leaning his head down to your neck to kiss it. you don’t want his touch, but you need it.
“rafe…” you whisper, trying your best not to want it but it’s difficult when he’s kissing your neck and moving his hand up your thigh again, only this time you don’t move your legs when he gets close to your pussy. you’re wearing jeans, so you feel his hand unbuttoning them which made you nervous, but you let it happen anyway.
“what baby?” he whispers, lifting his head from your neck to look at you. “i—” you say, cut off by the feeling of his cold hand slipping into your jeans. you jump at the temperature of his skin, which made him laugh. “come on, just take it” he licks his lips, looking at yours before kissing them. you kiss him back, and eventually start making out with him.
mid kiss, his hand slips into your panties, making you hum a moan. “you like that?” he asks, rubbing circles on your clit before breaking the kiss. “mhm” you hum, but his other hand reaches behind your head and grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back. “use your words, princess” he tells you, his dark eyes staring into yours. “…yes.” you hesitate to say, but you go along with it for your own safety and his sanity.
“hmm.. good” he smirks, letting go of your hair and kissing you again before his hand slid down your pussy, to your hole. you gasp at his sudden movement, but he chuckles at you. “you’re so wet. i’m always turning you on, huh?” he says, opening his mouth and mocking your gasp.
you chuckle too, wanting him to know you’re on the same page. after seconds of his fingers teasing your hole, he slides two of them into you. you gasp, moaning as his fingers fill you up to his knuckles. “so deep..” you moan, tensing up in your seat at his touch.
but it wasn’t long before he had you stripped off and sitting on his lap with the seat pushed all the way back. “fuck” he moans at the sight of your pretty tits, his hands grabbing your ass cheeks.
“if we do this… will you leave me alone after?” you ask, terrified to say but it needed to be said. “yeah, of course, i promise” he says like it’s nothing, like he didn’t even hear those words come out of your mouth. you were expecting a different reaction, but he had a different plan.
you felt like you had to have sex with him one last time for him to be able to move on from you. or so you thought that’s how it would be. “i love you, but if i need to leave for you to be happy, then i will” he says, almost believably.
but that was a lie.
pulling his boxers off allowed his hard dick to spring out, hitting your leg. you both giggle before starting to make out again, where his hands slid from your ass cheeks to your hips, his fingers twirling the sides of your panties before pulling them down and off your feet.
“ride me, princess” he says, both of your warm areas touching. you nod, lifting yourself up and positioning yourself above his cock before his hands roughly gripped your waist, pulling you to sit down on it.
you let out a loud moan of pain and pleasure. “fuuuck” he drags, closing his eyes as he pulled you up and down, choosing the speed and roughness for you. your moans cried out, you didn’t know if it hurt or felt good more.
“i missed you so much. i missed this pussy” he tells you, his hands roaming your naked back as his dick harshly thrusts up into you. “i missed you” you say, knowing you didn’t mean a single word. your horniness and desire to please him took over.
“you’re mine, baby” he tells you, his fingernails digging into your hips, making you cry out. he was so good at pleasing your pussy that you ruled out the pain he caused. “…always” you say, starting to question whether or not he was being honest about leaving you alone.
his pace is rough, he’s fucking you so harshly that you don’t think he’s ever gone this hard on you before. it hurts, but it hurts so good. “ow.. fuck.. rafe” you moan loudly like a porn star. “that’s it, baby” he says, feeling closer and closer to coming each time he thrust up into you.
your legs start to burn and ache, and he can tell by how much your legs are shaking. so he pulls you off of him, and guides you into the back seats where he climbs over after you.
he lays you down on your back, spreading your bodies over the three seats. he positions his cock near your pussy again, before sliding in with no warning. you moan, wrapping your arms around his back and gripping his shoulders. “fuckkk” he moans in your ear, making you much wetter. no matter how much you hate rafe cameron, his moans were your weakness.
the rougher and meaner he got, the more aroused he was. it wasn’t long before he started choking you, and slapping you around. it’s what he does during sex. he loves the power, he loves the dominance he has over you. you allowed it, though, because this was the last time. right?..
minutes later, you you felt him speeding up and becoming more tense, which meant he was gonna finish any second now. you, however, weren’t even close to finishing. it did feel good, but it didn’t change your feelings for him. you can’t come over somebody you hate so much.
“fuck baby.. ‘m gonna cum…” he says, twitching his dick as he empties his load into you. you moan at the feeling of his warm cum filling you up and leaking out after. he slowly pulls out, smirking knowing he’s hiding a huge secret from you.
he snuck into your house a few days ago while you were out with the pogues, and swapped your birth control pills for fake ones. but you had no idea…
it wasn’t until two weeks later when you were throwing up in your toilet, and crying your eyes out when you realized you’d missed your period. “fuck” you say, grabbing an emergency pregnancy test from the cabinet above the sink. you had them hidden in there just in case.
you take the pregnancy test, pacing around your bathroom for five minutes straight, waiting for the results. boom. the alarm you’d set on your phone goes off, five minutes is up. you switch the alarm off and gulp, slowly reaching for the pregnancy test. you pick it up, and gasp when you read the answer.
POSITIVE.
what the fuck are you supposed to do now?…
NOT PROOFREAD. probably some mistakes, but my FIRST smut writing?!?!😩😩 plssssss lmk what y’all think! <333
Rafe has been her best friend since she was twelve. Over the years, it’s become increasingly harder to hide the inevitable feelings simmering beneath. With liquid courage and a revolving door of emotions under their belts, can either of them hold the crumbling pieces of their friendship together through a game of spin the bottle?
part two here
warnings: um, i'm mentally unstable up so there's a few <3 cocaine usage (i don't condone drug use whatsoever, don't be a goose, sober is slay xx), alcohol consumption, jealous!reader, vulgar language, mentions of sex, slutty!rafe, not proofread, 18+ MDNI!
wc: 3.3k
a/n: so i just watched obx last week after i'd decided i'd seen enough drew edits on tt, and i'm foaming at the fucking mouth for this man fr. makes me sick. idk how i didn't watch it sooner. btw all u writers on here are keeping me fed, love your work mwah mwah
The thrum of the bass intermittently vibrates against your backside. If you weren’t already at least 4 drinks and 5 lines deep, you’d probably be feeling slightly jittery out here tonight. It’s not that you don’t like parties. You love parties, and being the center of attention. The real problem stems from the thick arm wrapped around your shoulder.
For so many years, that arm around your shoulder wouldn’t have made you think twice. Tonight? It feels like a million little sparks kiss the soft skin of your exposed shoulders, his fingers tracing unidentifiable lettering right above your collar bone. The little motion feels too affectionate–too unlike him.
Rafe has always been close by. He always greets you with a hug and a kiss on your cheek, and he’s always nearby, making excuses to see you whenever he can. Somewhere along the way, the lines began to blur, and you began to struggle to ignore the subtle feeling in your stomach that told you his little niceties could well be something more.
Something more.
Something that made your pulse quicken when you two made eye contact.
Something that made you question your sanity.
Something that encouraged your gaze to linger a little longer on his shirtless body, any time he came to your house to use your pool.
Something that made you think you needed to question your entire existence.
The way he would ‘unintentionally’ cockblock you when you ended up at parties together. The way he would offer to pick you up if he knew you were going out. How you would catch his eyes lingering on you just a beat longer than the normal person, like he was taking his time to admire you. How he’d compliment you every time he saw you, some compliments a little more…risque than others.
He had your mind racing. It’s impossible to know with Rafe. He’s a flirt, and the whole of Outer Banks knows that. Rafe Cameron is a slutty womaniser, and there’s no way he could ever think of his ‘Little Squirt’. The nickname has been one he’s called you since you were thirteen, after he caught you tearing up watching Finding Nemo, the start of a rollercoaster of hormones you’re still riding.
It’s different now though. The hormones aren’t making you cry at cartoons anymore. The hormones are making you wonder if the rumours you’ve heard about him in bed are true. The hormones are making you crave his presence, and the electrifying nervousness it possesses. With his hand on your shoulder, you feel yourself growing slightly flustered.
With the amount of blow in your system, and the endless liquid courage pouring through your veins, you make slipping out of his grasp look intentional. You stand up, feeling Rafe’s eyes burning through your backside. If you weren’t already confused enough, the smirk on Rafe’s face as he studies your ass baffles you even further.
‘Where’re you goin’ Squirt?’ Rafe’s voice is smooth, his intoxication barely noticeable in the way he holds himself. Your eyes flick down to him. With a fake smile, you harness the powdered courage powers, responding cooly, ‘Going to get a drink, Pretty Boy. You want one?’ The nickname was one you’d coined during your freshman year, when he started messing around with girls like his main goal was to catch every STD known to mankind.
Rafe’s eyes twinkle with something you can’t quite decipher, the lazy smirk playing on his lips feeling like he was swallowing you whole with just his gaze. He doesn’t say anything for a moment. He sits there in silence, his eyes tracing up and down your figure briefly, the transient action making you feel exposed in your tight black mini dress.
Heat creeps across your cheeks, and you’re glad you’ve got foundation on to help keep your facade up. The unbothered facade–because that’s normally how he treats you. At least, that’s what you’d told yourself in an attempt to bury your growing attraction to him. Fuck did he make it hard to know what he was thinking when he flirted with every girl in Outer Banks with the same stares and one-liners.
Rafe’s tone is mischievous, dripping with something slightly dangerous, ‘Only if you’re trying to get me to say something I shouldn’t.’ You can’t help but roll your eyes, brushing his tease off. He’s always like this. He’s a manwhore. You’re not any different than the rest of them, that is –if– his flirts are anything more than friendly banter. He flirts all the time, with practically every woman he sees.
You can’t say you’re much different in your promiscuity, but even so, he has always seemed to have more experience than you.
You’re the devil's pair. You both party hard, break hearts, and do it over again. You don’t particularly like to discuss it with one another, one of the only conversations you guys tend to ignore. It felt as though if you spoke about it, it would risk tipping the enormous iceberg of feelings into the bright rays of sunlight.
You try not to think about it as you head to the kitchen in Rafe’s house, the alcohol sitting on the counter, overshadowed by flashing beams of light. Your hands move at what feels like lightning speed to make the drinks, your choice in substance consumption tonight making you feel like the world is refusing to slow down for you.
You take the drinks back to where you were sitting with Rafe earlier, your group of friends scattered around. Your eyes scan to where Rafe is sitting, irritation buzzing in your fingertips as you see a pretty blonde girl in your spot. He doesn’t look insanely interested in what she has to say, and your heart skips a beat when his eyes snap onto you, ignoring her meaningless small talk.
Amusement dances in his eyes, seeing the slight twitch of your lip as you glare at the girl sitting beside him. You’re not sure if it’s the coke that’s clouding your judgement, but you put on your most innocent smile, stepping over outstretched legs to reach Rafe and his little boy toy.
‘Here, Pretty Boy,’ You say as you go to pass him his drink, gently jerking your hand so a small amount splashes over the rim of the red plastic cup. The movement sends the dark liquor over the girl with a perfected subtleness. Your gaze is locked on his as you make the movement, a faux innocent gasp falling from your lips.
‘Oh my god, I’m so sorry babe! I’ve just got the shakes tonight, I don’t know how that happened.’ Your voice is sickly sweet as you apologise to her cursing presence, Rafe’s eyes darkening as he watches you with a cocky smirk on his face. There was a challenge behind those eyes. One that said you’ve just poked the bear.
But you don’t care.
After deceivingly apologising, you spin on your heel, taking a swig of your drink, finding that there is not a single free chair amongst your friends. You look to Topper, who offers you a seat, patting his lap lightly. You flash him a charming grin, knowing that not only have you just potentially cockblocked Rafe–getting payback for the dozens of times he’s done it to you–but you also have the opportunity to get under his skin; to make him question everything he knows, like he does to you.
Like he’s done to you for years now.
Topper was your first boyfriend. It wasn’t anything serious, but Rafe knew you’d lost your virginity to him, and he’d never acted the same when he was with you two together after learning that. Rafe’s glare feels like a searing all-over sunburn as you settle yourself into Topper’s lap, crossing your legs over one another, wrapping your arms around his neck.
The way you sat sideways on his lap felt almost nostalgic, having not done this in years, since the breakup. ‘Hey bub, are you enjoying your night?’ You ask Topper flirtatiously, your face mere inches away from his. The closeness clarifies that you would never even think about kissing him now, not with the peaceful friendship you’ve reestablished after the breakup.
It’s making your pussy throb, seeing the way Rafe’s jaw tightens in your peripheral vision, his white knuckles grasping his crinkling drink like it was his last shred of sanity. That’s as close as you need to get to Topper before you’re sure that you’ve gotten Rafe almost as worked up as he’s gotten you.
You wish you had nerves guiding your choices right now. You wish you hadn’t piled yourself up with substances that lower your inhibition, because sober you would lose her mind if she knew how blatantly obvious you were being right now. I mean you practically just marked your territory over there, challenging Rafe with feelings he didn’t know you even had.
Topper is polite as you both chat, falling into a comfortable flow of conversation. Topper was a good guy, just not the guy for you. He’s a little too straight edged. A little too predictable. You craved chaos, you craved the rush. There’s no hard feelings between you and Topper, which makes it much easier for you to throw your head back with a delicate seduction when he makes little jokes.
The conversation flowed easily, and it wasn’t long before you glanced over at Rafe, no longer feeling his piercing blue eyes locked on your every move. Instead, he’s leant in, arm wrapped around the back of the sofa, dangling aimlessly by the blonde girl’s shoulder. For a moment, your heart does a small leap, overanalyzing the way he’s not writing undecipherable messages on her collarbone like he did to you.
Regardless, his ignorance towards you gets under your skin, and you start gathering the attention of everyone around you from Topper’s lap. You reach for the small tray of white powder, knowing it’s Rafe’s stuff, and rack up a line as your warm voice echoes over the music, ‘Let’s make things interesting, ladies and gents! Spin the bottle.’ You pause for a brief moment, your cheeky glare not being missed by Rafe.
‘Winner gets a kiss.’ You state plainly, a teasing smile on your face as you bend down to quickly snort the line. Your head comes back up with a dramatic hair flick, throwing your neck back rapidly to let the bitter drug drip down your throat. You look out at the group of people around you, at least ten to twelve others, a devilish smirk playing on your face.
‘Loser gets to watch.’ You say with a shrug, your pupils looking wild as Rafe watches on in disbelief. You can’t help but snicker as he begins to protest, manspreading even wider on the sofa, his cup resting in his hand on his knee, ‘Spin the bottle? What are we? Twelve?’ Rafe scoffs, rolling his eyes at you.
Perfect. That’s exactly what you want from him. You want him irritated. You want him caught off guard. Maybe you’ll feel better about it all if you get payback for all the times he’s made you feel the same way. ‘You can sit out, princess, I’m not exactly short on players.’ You tease arrogantly, your hands coming up to motion to the large circle around you, falling with a carefree shrug.
Rafe chuckles humorlessly. The sound that comes from him is dry, even over the sound of the music, not liking the way you put him back in his box in front of all his friends. He doesn’t retaliate though. He knows you’ve got a smart mouth, and he knows that you’re quick on your feet. Quite frankly, he doesn’t want to make a fool of himself just yet.
Everyone kicks back, watching you as you spin the bottle for the first time, the bottle landing on a dude you’ve never even bothered to catch the name of. He’s a fellow stuck up Kook, and you’ve found that the only stuck up Kook you have the energy to deal with is Rafe. It doesn’t stop you from standing though, strutting over to where he’s sitting, your heels striking the floor with each step thundering a tantalising drumbeat.
You watch Rafe’s head turn, glued on your figure as you straddle the Kook’s lap, his hands immediately coming to rest on your ass, barely covered by your short dress. You lean forward, sucking him in for a heated kiss without any preparation. He doesn’t miss a beat, and it’s only when you start hearing hollers that you pull back, a satisfied gleam across your features.
The Kook is grinning up at you, and if you weren’t so stuck on making Rafe jealous, you’d probably give him a few minutes of your time tonight. Wait? Was that what this was? Making Rafe jealous? You shook your head at the thought, seeming so unintelligible. No, you were doing this to piss him off because he’s a little slut.
Yeah. Definitely just to piss him off.
You stand back up, heading back to your spot with Topper, everyone taking it turn for turn spinning the bottle. Rafe seems on edge with each spin, his shoulders only relaxing for a brief moment when a spin doesn’t land on you. With only Kelce left to go before Rafe gets a chance to spin the bottle, you can’t help but giggle amusedly when Kelce’s spin lands on you.
Kelce stands up, coming to give you a quick kiss where you sit on Topper’s lap, his hands cupping your face to sturdy himself. You open your eyes after the kiss, briefly seeing Rafe’s jaw locked into a scowl, his nostrils flaring. If you didn’t know him as well as you did, you’d think he was just paying attention to the game.
But that’s the thing.
You know Rafe.
He doesn’t get flustered. He’s in a state of being permanently carefree, and it’s only because you know him so well that you notice his little ticks, alerting you to his growing frustrations as he watches you kiss and be kissed around the circle. Kelce sits back down, and you brush off the playful cheers and hollers at your meaningless kiss.
Kelce pushes the bottle to Rafe, who you have your full attention on now. It’s not a suspicious level of attention, because everyone is waiting to see who his spin lands on. Your mind begins to wonder, questioning if he’s just as nervous to see who his spin lands on. You know this game was your idea, but the realization hits you now that there’s other girls in this circle.
They’re pretty girls too. Exactly Rafe’s type, probably girls he’s hooked up with before. For a fleeting moment, you regret your choice to start this silly little game, your blood boiling at the thought of Rafe kissing other girls to make you jealous. You started it to make him feel jealous, but now you’re conflicted with how his spin may affect your own jealousy.
Not jealousy. Friendly banter. Definitely.
There’s no time to stress now though, because the bottle has landed.
On you.
Your heart almost sinks to the floor, realising you hadn’t even thought of this possibility. I mean, the probability was like a one in over a dozen, yet his spin seemed so calculated; it seemed like his spin landing on you was nothing but predetermined fate. Rafe’s eyes are dark, dangerous, an arrogant smirk playing on his lips.
He takes a slow sip of his drink, passing it to the girl sitting beside him, his eyes not once leaving you. His gaze is heavy, and it makes your heart skip a beat. He’s never looked at you like this. Ever. His pace is slow, torturous, making your mouth dry as he stands up, his height immediately making you feel like the world is caving in around you.
He walks over with poise, grabbing you by the wrists and yanking you up into him harshly. Your chest bumps into his, knocking a gasp from your lips, and the drink from your hand, which clatters to the floor with a splash. Shivers roll through your spine as you feel his hot breath, hovering barely an inch from your ear.
The ‘oooohs’ and cheers in response to Rafe’s lack of discretion fade into a dull ringing sound, your body already betraying this false sense of confidence you’ve had all night.
Amusement lulls his tone, his words making your head spin. ‘Play your little games, princess…’ He pauses, breathing into your neck heavily, before continuing his dirty little whisper into your ear, only loud enough for you to hear.
‘Because I’m going fuck that attitude out of you tonight.’
You can’t help the way your thighs clench together, and if you weren’t coked out of your head, you might’ve worried about these drunk people around you noticing. Rafe notices though. His hand slips up to your throat, holding it tightly as he drags you into him for a seething kiss. His lips are soft, a stark contrast to the anger his kiss is holding.
You freeze for a moment, his sudden shift in attitude towards you stunning you. You wanted to make him a little jealous, but never in a million years did you think he would go this far. His hand around your throat cuts your air off almost completely, and your lips finally catch up with his, trying to mask your surprise at how easily he cracked you.
His lips are fiery, with so much pent up emotion that you aren’t sure if you’re dreaming. His free hand snakes up under your dress, pawing roughly at your ass, hard enough that you’re sure it’ll leave bruises. Every inch of your body is radiating with a sinful heat, tempting you into the most unholy of thoughts.
Your body yearns for his touch to move deeper, your hands running their way into his hair, tugging harshly as you fight desperately to close every inch of distance between the two of you. It’s almost theatrical when the hollering catches up to you, snapping you out of your Rafe-fueled trance, pulling back with a bright red face and pulsing head.
You hadn’t even noticed that his grip around your neck was so tight until his lips weren’t on yours, his lips acting as a threatening distraction from your reality. Fuck cocaine. The way your head spins, the way your legs tremble–you’ve never felt so high in your life. Rafe pulls back, looking down at you with a taunting smirk on his face.
His eyes are almost black, the usual blue being violently overpowered by the purest shade of lust. A shade you’ve never seen from him, ever. Not from a single one of his hook ups. This was a new glimpse into Rafe, into a territory you’d been so hesitant to even think about exploring.
The twisted look on his face tells you that you’ve made a mistake, like he’s been ten steps ahead this whole time.
You don’t even get a chance to breathe, his lips dragging down to the sweet spot on your neck, suckling heavy enough to leave a mark. It’s impossible to fight back, it’s like you’ve been compelled by his charm to stay there and do as he wants with you, only able to let out a soft whimper.
His lips ghost over your ear, voice low and seductive.
‘You’re gonna regret teasing me all night, you fucking brat.’
