Toxic!Dad!Rafe is so protective, and although he is toxic no-one's allowed to talk shit about his girl- (except for him obviously but thats different duh)
The sun is out, the country club buzzing with chatter and the occasional thwack of a golf club striking a ball. Y/N is settled in a shaded area, her baby girl sitting in the grass, her tiny hands grabbing at the white golf balls, rolling them back and forth as she giggles at the way they wobble on the lawn. Rafe is standing a few feet away, talking with Topper, Kelce, and some other guys Y/N doesn’t really know. Some trust fund babies, probably. The type who think their daddy’s money makes them invincible. She doesn’t care to know because right now, her attention is on their daughter, the way she beams when Rafe glances over at her, proudly showing him her new 'toys.'
“Yeah princess, you got ‘em.”
His voice is soft when he talks to her, completely different from the cocky, arrogant way he speaks to everyone else. Y/N watches with a smile as he grins, winking at their little girl which makes her giggle, before he's going back to his conversation. She’s just about to pull out her phone and snap a picture when she hears one of the guys laugh. A little too loud, a little too amused.
“Guess it worked out for her, huh?”
It’s casual, muttered between swigs of beer to the other new guys, but it makes her stomach drop.
“Got kicked to the curb by her family—”
Her heart rises to her throat.
“—but hey, at least she had Cameron to knock her up. Now she’s set for life, right?”
Silence.
The kind that makes the hairs on the back of Y/N’s neck stand up, she knows exactly what’s about to happen. She watches the way Rafe's shoulders stiffen, the muscle in his jaw ticks, his grip on his beer tightening like he’s two seconds away from crushing the glass.
“What the fuck did you just say?”
His voice drops slow and controlled but lethal. The guy, oblivious or maybe just plain fucking stupid, grins and shrugs.
“Chill, man. I just meant- ”
Wrong move.
Y/N is already standing, her heart in her throat. She doesn’t give a fuck about the comment itself— it’s Rafe she’s worried about. Rafe, who’s already moving. He steps forward, beer bottle still in hand, shoulders squared.
“Nah, go ahead. Say it again.”
He challenges the guy who now shifts on his feet chuckling, but there’s an edge of nervousness evident in his actions.
“Jesus man, it was a joke.”
“Oh yeah? Not fuckin’ funny.”
Rafe’s jaw clenches at his petty excuse. Y/N barely has time to react before he shoves the guy back.
Hard.
Not enough to knock him down- but enough to make a statement. Enough to make everyone around them go silent. His fist tighten by his sides and Kelce mutters something under his breath looking over to Topper who sighs, shaking his head.
“Don’t fuckin' talk about her like that.”
His voice is deadly, protective, and it makes Y/N’s breath catch. Her throat is tight, her skin burning. Not because of what the guy said- but because he wasn’t entirely wrong. She’s heard it before.
Lucky to have Rafe.
Lucky to have their daughter.
Lucky because otherwise she’d have nothing.
She swallows hard, blinking fast but Rafe sees red and he shoves the guy again, harder this time. Kelce lets out a low whistle and Topper rubs a hand down his face. Y/N moves quickly, stepping between the two guys, one hand pressing against Rafe’s chest. She can feel how hard his heart is pounding, how tense his muscles are, like he’s just waiting for an excuse to swing.
“Rafe, stop.”
He doesn’t move. Just stares the guy down, nostrils flaring as he opens his mouth again to say something but is cut off- a tiny giggle.
Y/N whips around at the sound.
Their daughter is still sitting in the grass, completely oblivious to the tension, laughing as she claps her hands, watching her daddy like she thinks this is just another game. It’s enough to make Y/N’s stomach drop. Rafe must notice it too, because his shoulders drop slightly. He doesn’t turn away from the guy, but he exhales sharply through his nose.
“You’re fuckin’ lucky I have my kid with me.”
The guy doesn’t say anything. Just nods before stumbling back, shoving his hands into his pockets. Rafe rolls his eyes at him, shaking out his shoulders. Y/N stares at him, momentarily unsure of what to say as she watches the guys walk away.
“You can’t keep doing this.”
He scoffs.
“Yeah? What, I’m just supposed to let him run his mouth?”
“You have your daughter with you, Rafe.”
That’s what matters. That’s what she cares about. Rafe’s gaze flickers to their baby girl, still sitting on the grass, still smiling at him and something softens in his expression. He shakes his head, muttering something under his breath before bending down and scooping her up.
“C’mon, princess. Let’s go home.”
Y/N doesn’t argue. Just lets him lift their daughter into his arms as he adjusts her small white hat, her tiny hand clutching onto his shirt. She watches him as they walk towards the car, feeling exhausted but knowing one thing for certain:
Rafe Cameron will never let anyone disrespect his family.
your back hit the trunk of the tree, digging into your shoulder blades as jj pressed into you, one hand placed above your head, the other at your hip. his mouth found yours in the dark again, hot and urgent, like he hadn’t kissed you in years, even though it had only been seconds.
“you’re not supposed to want this,” you whispered against his lips, teasing. jj chuckled, low and rough, his nose brushing yours. “since when do i care what i’m supposed to want?”
you bit your lip, eyes locked on his blue ones. that was typical jj, reckless, mouthy, never followed a rule in his life before. and that’s what you liked about him. way too much.
“you’re a walking bad idea, jay” you murmured, your hand slipping under the hem of his shirt. his smile turned dangerous then. “and you’ve been staring at this bad idea for months, baby.”
your cheeks grew hot, but you didn’t deny it. because it was true. you were kook royalty, grew up wealthy and never had to worry, and yet there was something mischievous behind every flirtatious smile.
people expected you to end up with someone like rafe, not the wild, golden-haired boy who’s father was an alcoholic and who started fist fights at the beach. but jj had this pull, this particular heat, that made everything else feel boring.
he leaned in, lips brushing your jaw, his voice a whisper. “you’ve got no idea, how long i’ve wanted this.” your fingers fisted in his shirt, music from the party buzzing in the background. “then stop holding back.”
“been thinking about you for months, y/n. you smile at me like that again, i swear—” you cut him off with another messy kiss. his hand slid along your thigh, just under the hem of your dress, and your breath hitched. just then—
“y/n?” someone called out. loud and already too close. jj froze and you stiffened. “that’s fucking topper.” jj tilted his head, listening. the sound of crunching sand and footsteps growing closer. “shit,” you hissed, already pulling back.
then tooper called out again, like some annoying security guard. “saw you duck over here, rafe’s not around, you know?” jj’s expression went from cautious to confused. “he’s still trying to babysit you?”
“he’s a loyal bitch to rafe. but i’m not his problem anymore,” you muttered, grabbing the blonde’s hand. “come on.” you dragged him out from the trees, staying low and laughing quietly as you both bolted past a stack of coolers, and towards the parking lot.
the door of your car slammed shut behind you. your back hit the backseat, chest rising and falling like you couldn’t catch your breath. jj’s hand was still in yours, both of you wide-eyed, high off the rush of nearly getting caught.
“that was fucking close,” you whispered, grinning, your cheeks burning up from the run. jj was leaning over you then, chest against yours, breath fanning across your plump lips. “topper’s really got the worst timing,” he muttered, voice low and wrecked.
“he desperately needs to get laid,” you said, rolling your eyes, but your voice dropped soft at the end, eyes flicking to his mouth. “i don’t belong to anyone anymore.”
“no,” jj said, jaw clenched, staring at you like you were the only thing that mattered. “you don’t.” and then he kissed you again. hard. it was weeks of tension exploding between you, mouths colliding, hands fumbling.
his fingers slid into your hair, tugging gently, making you sigh into his mouth. you hooked your legs around his waist without thinking, dragging him into the space between your thighs. his hips rolled down almost naturally, grinding against your center, and you both groaned.
“fuck,” he whispered, forehead pressed to yours, grinding against you again, slower now. “you’re driving me insane.” you could feel how hard he was through his cargos, pressing right against your soaked panties, dress bunched up around your hips.
“good,” you whispered, moaning softly when he did it again. his hand slid under your dress, fingers exploring every inch of bare thigh, teasing you just enough to make you squirm. you rutted up against him, both of you dry humping like you couldn’t help yourselves, gasping every time you lined up just right.
jj’s mouth was on your neck, sucking a bruise just below your ear, one hand gripping the back of the seat, the other sliding under your panties, cupping you over the thin fabric.
“you’re soaked, mama” he said, voice wrecked. you whimpered, biting your bottom lip, grinding harder against his cock, trapped tight in his shorts. he groaned, deep and breathy, and dropped his head to your shoulder, shuddering as your hips rolled up to meet him again.
“y/n,” he panted, “i’m gonna fuckin’ lose it if you keep doing that.” you pulled back just enough to look up at him then, eyes dark and pupils fully blown, lips already swollen. “then let me take care of you.”
jj blinked, stunned, as you slid your hands down to the waistband of his cargos, fingers undoing the button slow and teasing. “wait—what are you—” he started, but his voice caught as you slipped out of his grip and pushed him into the seat. one of his hands braced on the window, the other hanging limp at his side like he’d forgotten how to move.
sliding onto your knees you looked up at him with this wicked little smirk, eyes locked on his while you pulled his cargos down just enough. his cock sprang free, thick and already leaking. and you didn’t waste any time, just wrapped your hand around him, fingers barely able to circle him completely.
you then gave him one slow and teasing stroke, your tongue poking out to lick a long stripe up the underside of his hard cock, tracing the prominent vein, which made his whole body twitch.
“jesus christ,” he hissed, head falling back against the headrest. he twitched in your grip, already so sensitive, jerking every time your tongue hit just the spot. then you wrapped your lips around the tip and sucked. soft at first, all gentle.
the next second you took him into your mouth like you meant it, stretching your lips around him inch by inch. sliding down until your throat was full of him, the tip of your nose touching his skin.
he looked down at you with blown pupils and parted lips, as he couldn’t believe this was really happening. “you’re fucking insane,” he breathed, chest heaving. “you feel—shit—so fucking good.”
you bobbed your head slowly at first, tongue teasing the tip every time you pulled back, your other hand sliding up under his shirt to scratch your nails across his toned stomach.
with that combination jj was a mess in seconds. breathing hard, hands gripping the seat, and his hips twitching toward your mouth. “fuck, that’s—fuck, baby—don’t stop.” and you didn’t.
you picked up the pace, moaning around him just to feel the way it made him curse. drool slipped down your chin, messy and perfect, while your eyes never left his face, watching him fall apart.
his hand was tangled in your hair but not pushing, just holding on like he never wanted to let go. you pulled back to suck on just the tip, circling it with your tongue like it was candy, then took him deep again, over and over, as he lost control above you.
“i’m gonna—” he gasped, trying to hold it back, legs shaking. you didn’t slow down though. you wanted it, wanted him to fall apart for you, here, in the dark safety of your car. then his whole body tensed, abs flexing as he came hard into your mouth, choking out your name with a broken moan.
you didn’t flinch though, you just kept sucking. he watched you swallow every last drop. you moaned like it tasted sweet, while your hands were still working him through it until he was completely ruined.
when you finally pulled off, lips red and swollen, wiping the corner of your mouth with your fingers teasingly, jj was wrecked. his shirt was sticking to his chest, blond locks wild and eyes glassy.
“holy fuck,” he breathed, voice raw. “that was the best fucking head i’ve had in my life.” you smirked, climbing back into his lap, kissing him soft and lazy. “that was just the beginning.”
summary: maybe there was a time where rafe loved you, but as time passes, you start to realise that what love he might’ve once had is now lost, and in its place is the drugs that’s taken hold of him
word count: 1.2k
content warnings: rafe is toxic asf, he’s a bad partner, he’s addicted to drugs, he says some really awful things and does awful things. topper is a good bro, mention of reader staying when she probably should have left, angst, hurt no comfort. but comfort if you find it in closure? i dunno. lowk abusive rafe, but she leaves! so hoorah! not proofread
author’s note: thissss is really self-indulgent. knowing people that are addicts is some of the worst pain ever. this is just me working through my feelings.
· · ────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ────── · ·
There’s moments in your relationship where you can’t help but question if Rafe had ever really loved you.
That all the wealth, drugs and opulence were worth more than the weight of your entire relationship.
Contrary to popular belief, you weren’t blind nor dumb. You knew why Rafe had stayed, despite all other things.
You fit the profile, a kook princess with enough money to measure up to the Cameron status and prim and proper enough to be passed off as old money.
That was far from the truth, as a kid from parents who’d fought and dug their way off The Cut, you knew how the play the game just as well as everyone else.
But despite your best efforts, Rafe Cameron had managed to worm his way into your stupid, sensitive heart.
In all honesty, maybe you’d needed someone just as bad as Rafe had needed a friend.
You suppose, there was always worse people to love.
Rafe and his crippling drug addiction, with his absent father and pogue lover sister didn’t seem like the worst of the bunch until the lows became too low.
“Rafe, just talk to me. Let me help.” You plead with him, begging him to let you in.
“Real sweet,” he scoffs. “Playing the doting girlfriend act, you can keep acting like you care but we both know what you’re really here for.”
You used to tell yourself it was the coke talking, that once his high started to curb that he’d crawl back into your bed with whispered apologies and kisses that tasted of liquor.
You used to want more for yourself than this.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Your voice is barely above a whisper.
You don’t think you even really want to hear the answer, you don’t think you can stand to listen to him degrade you one last time.
He laughs hollowly, the sound stabbing you straight that your chest as you try to maintain some semblance of calm.
Far be it from you to cry in front of him, who knows what would happen then.
“You’re just like the fuckin’ rest of them, you want money—or, or fuckin’ drugs or status or what the fuck ever you can get your hands on.” He slurs, swaying from side to side.
The imagine of him is enough to have nausea churning in your gut, this isn’t what you signed up for.
This isn’t the boy you wanted, or thought you knew.
“I never asked you for anything.” You whisper, your breath hitching as you watch Rafe’s dilated and fury filled gaze find yours.
“Yeah well you don’t exactly turn em’ down either did you princess.” He grins cruel and mean.
Your breath feels like it’s stuck on your throat, “Is that what you think of me? Honestly?”
You’re giving him a way out, an excuse on a silver platter.
All he has to say is no, that he doesn’t think you’re some gold-digging whore that’s only with him for his money.
That he loves you, or—likes you even.
His face is void of all affection, “You’re pathetic.” He spits out.
You take it with the small amount of grace you still have left.
You nod, feeling tears well in your eyes.
You can’t do this anymore, you refuse to wake up and see Rafe smiling at you like you’re his favourite person, to have him act like he’d give you the world but the second he gets a substance in his system, to act as if you’re not even worth the gum at the bottom of his shoe.
You deserve better.
“Okay,” you whisper thickly. “If that’s what you think.”
Without further comment, you walk away.
You grab your bag and stuff on the way out, and walk to find Topper.
He’ll be sober enough to drive you home, you’ll be damned if you spend another minute in this house.
“Topper,” you greet with an exhale as you catch sight of the man.
He greets you with a warm smile and a hug, “You okay? You look sick.” He frowns
You sniffle, “I wanna go home, will you take me?”
Topper softens but there’s confusion in his gaze as he takes you to his car.
“You’re not staying?” He asks as he unlocks his Jeep and you both get in.
“No,” you affirm. “Rafe and I—uh, we’re no longer together.” You say, refusing to make eye contact with the blonde.
He blows out a breath, “Uh, wow. Okay? Is it—Are you alright?” He asks
You shake your head, “please drive.” You plead.
Topper nods, reversing as his headlights ricochet off the scenery in front of you.
You gaze softly at the darkened street with a frown, begging yourself not to start crying.
It’s then that you catch sight of him, Rafe.
Standing outside his house with a manic look in his eye, scanning the row of cars for something.
Topper’s car purrs as he presses softly on the accelerator which notifies Rafe.
His expression grows dark, eyes tracking Topper and moving to the passenger seat to catch sight of you.
He looks pissed, and somewhat…regretful.
Topper turns at the sight of your choked off gasp, “Is that—?”
“Topper. Drive.”
Topper turns to look at you with a perplexed expression.
“He’s—“
“Drive.”
Topper concedes, taking his foot of the break to pull his car towards the gate of the Cameron property.
Only to be stopped by Rafe stalking over and banging on the side windows for the car.
“Open the door!” He demands, his voice loud enough for you both to hear over the sound of you panicked breathing.
“Topper, please go—we need to go.” You plead, turning away from Rafe to look at Topper with an imploring expression.
Rafe bangs on the door hard enough for you to flinch, “Don’t look at him, look at me! Open the fucking door, I’m not kidding!” He roars.
You start to cry softly. Topper curses, looking between Rafe and the gate.
“Stop hitting the car dude, you’re scaring her!” Topper yells at Rafe.
Rafe downright growls, “Stay the fuck out of this man—that’s my girl you have in the car!”
You open the window abysmally, enough for your voice to carry to outside the car but not enough to let Rafe get near you.
“We’re done Rafe.” You say firmly.
Rafe’s jaw slackens in shock and hurt, “What? Is this about earlier? C’mon baby you know I didn’t—“
“I don’t care,” you say honestly.
“I’m done being your punching bag, you think I’m only with you for your money? Consider me gone, I’m not doing this with you. I’m sorry.”
Rafe looks as though you’ve punched him, “Baby,” he laughs nervously. “C’mon, you’re giving up on us? Just like that? Okay—I know I was harsh but baby that was just the coke, I know—I know you don’t like the drugs, I’ll stop alright? I’ll quit the coke, right now. Just come back inside—let’s talk about this.” Rafe pleads.
His eyes are still dilated and he’s swaying on his feet.
“No, Rafe.” You disagree. “Baby I love you, and I hope you get the help you need but I can’t do this anymore.”
Rafe shakes his head while you speak, getting as close to the window as he possibly can, “No baby, don’t say that—we can work this out alright? Just give me another chance.” He asks.
“Don’t contact me again.” You state firmly, closing the window over Rafe’s yelling before turning to Topper who’s watching you in sympathy.
“Let’s go Top.” You firmly state.
Rafe bangs on the window, raging on the outside. Switching from yelling to pleading.
It’s the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do, to talk away.
kook!reader texting rafe “what position have you got her in?” when he takes too long to respond to a text
happy birthday, angel 💓
BSF!RAFE + KOOK!READER ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚
manicured pink nails tapped impatiently on the restaurant table. eyes glued to the bedazzled device with a glittery pout adorning her lips. this was so unfair. rafe would have a fucking conniption if she even thought about not texting him back. and now it’s been… seven fucking minutes? yeah, right.
the last time she left him on delivered for two minutes he was blowing her phone up and all grumbly the rest of the week, pounding her into oblivion for playing games. dont get her wrong; she loved it. being fucked within an inch of her life was her favorite pastime.
but now? rafe cameron was like the worst hypocrite known to man.
‘what position u got her in?’
‘Be so fr’
it brought a smile to her pretty face seeing his sassy reply. with a satisfied huff, she set her phone face down on the table. why not make him sweat? picking up her long island iced tea with a devious grin, she was right back into the conversation with her girls.
the table was alight with giggles and gossip — the pack of kook girls enjoying lunch together after before hitting the beach.
it was supposed to be an easy day, a break from all the confusion and feelings still swirling around princess and her tall, handsome “best friend”. and she desperately needed that. needed some semblance of normalcy before shit took off and everything on the island changed when the two most hated and loved rich kids finally get together.
so she didn’t even flinch when her phone vibrated once, twice, thrice. she only excused herself from the conversation with a smile when her phone buzzed in a rhythmic pattern — a phone call. bubbles of giddy excitement filling her tummy as ‘rafey’ showed on the screen with a point five angled photo of him looking pissed.
“‘kay— be right back, girls!” she sang, already standing with her phone in hand.
“he finally called you, huh?” melodie, a beautiful brunette in a lilac bikini top teased. the table giggled, all looking at princess and feeling a rush of girlish excitement.
“get your man, baby!” another girl, aliyah, borderline squealed.
princess flushed, feeling her body heat up at the prospect of rafe being ‘her man’. god, imagine! she waved them off embarrassedly, teetering away on her platform flip flops, pleasantly tipsy as she leans against the outside wall of the restaurant.
“hellooooo?”
her voice was sugary sweet into the phone, looking down at her nails and checking the polish for any chips. the warm timbre of rafe cameron’s voice rumbled through the speaker, directly pressed into her ear. she found herself wishing to feel his lips moving around the words and against the shell of her ear.
“you’re somethin’ else, dollface.” he mumbled and she could hear the smirk on his lips.
“aw, you didn’t say ‘hi’, rafe…” she pouted, biting back a laugh at the sound of his heavy sigh on the other end.
“hi. you’re somethin’ else.”
“hiii. why’s that?”
his laugh came through the speaker, all deep and settling into her bones like it always does. she hears the tick, tick of his blinker, meaning he’s driving somewhere in that big truck of his.
princess looks around at the marina, taking the sight of obx residents enjoying the still warm, early fall weather. hot enough to take a dip without the water being freezing yet. rafe continued on as she flitted her gaze around the area.
he ignored her question, instead asking his own.
“checked your location. you tipsy right now?”
a giggle escaped her glossy lips, head lolling slightly, “mmm, maybe… why?”
“go back in and pay. sent you one fifty.”
she froze, pulling the phone from her ear and seeing an apple pay notification. he always did this. not like she could just use her dad’s card or anything.
“rafe cameron—“
he cut her off, hanging up after and not letting her protest, “hey— pay and then come back out. know i’ll let ‘chu make it up to me, a’ight?”
it was like a reverse walk of shame — explaining to her friends why she was leaving early and why she was covering the whole tab. walking back out with her purse on her arm as the familiar rumble of his truck approached, petulant in the way her arms were crossed. he pulled up right before her, rolling down the passenger window and smiling in that frustratingly charming way. dickhead.
she hung up with a guffaw, not believing he actually showed up when she was hanging with her friends. the possessive gesture makes her heart jump then fall. very boyfriend of him.
“what the fuck are you doing here?”
“oh, that’s how you talk to someone who just paid for your lunch? get in.”
she scoffed, amused at his gall. even more so at the fact she listened — shoes clacking against the pavement. rafe leaned over the console, opening the door for her. he looks good and smells better. that cologne she bought him for his birthday last year that he seems to be wearing a lot recently. an intoxicating smell that makes her feel drunker.
a plaid button up, rolled up to the elbow and exposing strong, veiny arms causes her mind to wander as he leans closer to her.
“hey, gorgeous,” that low drawl sends goosebumps over her body, paired with a half smile that’s so pretty.
comfortable in the seat she’s become so familiar with, he closes the gap between them. giving her a kiss so casual and natural, it makes her fluffy lashes flutter rapidly. sticky gloss transfered on his mouth that he doesn’t even wipe away.
she’s even more confused when flowers are thrusted into her arms. princess blinks at him like a fish — feeling a warmth settle in her chest at the sight of her favorite blooms wrapped haphazardly in brown paper.
“they, uh— they were in this ugly fuckin’ plastic. know you hate that so… yeah,” rafe shrugs it off as he pulls out of the parking lot.
princess decides this is technically a kidnapping. especially because she’s never been more confused and lost in her life.
he leans back in the seat, driving with one hand lazily, confidently. a glimpse of blue eyes at her and she’s smiling wildly, bringing the flowers to her nose to smell them. princess leans over and kisses his cheek, feeling drunker on the moment and smell of his skin.
“i— thank you, rafey…”
rafe takes notice of how small her voice is, how vulnerable. he nods, switching hands to rest one on her leg. large, warm palm soothing her and pulling her out of her mind before she can even begin to cause herself to spiral.
he clears his throat, squeezing the plush, smooth skin of her thigh, “cowgirl.”
her furrowed brow is adorable. looking up from the bouquet in her lap and over at him in question. there’s a drunken slowness to her, a haze. he hums and pushes his hand higher — marking a mental note of how easily her legs spread to make room for him.
The beach was decently crowded— not so much they couldn’t stretch out or breathe, but not private enough to get too comfortable— and the sun was high in the Carolina sky. Rafe sprawled out in a beach chair, his shades perched precariously on his nose as he silently observed the surf. Next to him, y/n laid face down on a beach towel, listening quietly to the music that played in her earbuds as the warmth from the sun spread across her skin. It was a perfectly calm, serene, and normal afternoon.
That was until a sticky-handed and chubby-cheeked creature decided to wander her way over to Rafe and y/n’s part of the beach.
“Mama!?” A teary-screech caused y/n’s head to whip up just as a small body fell atop her. Rafe turned around at the same time, jumping up from his seat towards y/n on instinct.
“Hey, hey, hey, sweetheart.” Y/n said, quickly turning around to face the crying toddler. She couldn’t have been more than two, with a brightly patterned swimsuit and an oversized sunhat that did little to cover her unruly, sand-riddled curls. The little girl grabbed at y/n’s arms, attempting to climb into her lap as she sniffled and sobbed. Y/n soothed a hand down the girls shaking shoulders before glancing over at Rafe, who was already examining the situation closely.
“What’s wrong?” Y/n cooed gently. “Are you looking for your mama?”
“Mama?” The toddler lifted her head, the pout on her lips and tears on her cheeks nearly making y/n cry herself.
“Aww, baby…” Y/n sighed, brushing a wild curl from the toddler’s wide eyes. “We’ll help you find your mama.”
The little girl blinked up at her tearily before burying her face back in y/n’s chest. Y/n frowned before turning to Rafe as he was looking up and down the beach for any sight of a panicked parent.
“Rafe,” Y/n whispered harshly, causing him to look over at her, “what do we do?”
“I don’t know!” Rafe said, throwing his arms up dramatically. “Uh… ask her what her mom looks like?”
“Hey, sweetheart,” y/n said gently. “What does Mama look like?”
“Mama?!” The girl picked her head up excitedly, looking around quickly before falling back down into y/n’s lap with a sob after no apparent sign of her mother. Y/n turned to Rafe, who was gnawing on his bottom lip as he looked down at the two of them.
“Maybe… walk around, scope out the beach? See if she sees her?” Rafe sighed, running a hand haphazardly through his hair. Y/n nodded, carefully rising to her feet as the little girl clung to her chest. Y/n shifted her to rest on her hip, still allowing the girl to hold onto her tightly as she glanced up and down the shore before turning towards Rafe.
“And what if we still don’t find her?” Y/n asked lowly.
“We’ll find her.” Rafe nodded. His eyes flicked down to the little girl and her chattering teeth. With a huff, Rafe turned to grab a towel before quickly draping it over the girl's shoulders. He tucked the towel around her snugly, smoothing a hand down her back as her chattering teeth slowly died down. He met y/n’s concerned gaze, giving her a tight nod before he rested a hand on her shoulder. With a quick squeeze, he set off down the beach, with y/n and the sniffling toddler in her arms.
“Sweetie, what’s your name?” Y/n asked, the toddler blinking up at her.
“M– Ma– ee.” The little girl stumbled through her sniffles.
“May?” Y/n asked. “Maisee?”
“Ma– ee. Ma– ee” The girl repeated, clearly frustrated.
“Maeve?” Y/n asked with a furrow of her brow.
“Ma– ee!” The girl shouted.
“Maddie?” Rafe asked, causing the girl— Maddie— to turn to him, her eyes lighting up. She smiled, a cute pair of dimples appearing on her cheeks as she clapped her little hands.
“Maddie? Your name is Maddie?” Y/n asked, causing Maddie to squeal at the sound of her name again.
“Ok, Maddie,” Rafe said, a small smile sneaking across his face at the little girl's excitement, despite the situation they had found themselves in, “we’re gonna find your mama.”
Maddie’s face immediately fell, her bottom lip trembling as her eyes welled with tears.
“M–Mama?” Maddie sniffled before letting out a sob. “Mama!”
“We’re gonna find your mama!” Y/n soothed quickly, smoothing a hand down the nape of Maddie’s neck. “It’s ok, sweetie, it’s ok!”
Rafe cringed, looking around the beach again before running a hand down his face with a sigh. Y/n frowned, bouncing Maddie slightly in her arms. The little girl let out a tiny hiccup before her gaze drifted over towards Rafe.
“Up.” Maddie said, reaching one of her hands out towards Rafe.
“Up?” Y/n asked. “You are ‘up’, I’m holding you right—”
“UP!” The little girl shouted loudly, flapping her hand at Rafe. He quirked a brow, looking over at y/n before reaching an arm out. Maddie immediately climbed out of y/n’s arms and into Rafe’s. As soon as she was securely nestled in the curl of his bicep, she started kicking her feet against his stomach.
“What’re you—” Rafe started as the little girl clamped both of her hands onto his shoulder and hauled herself up. She continued to kick, trying her best to climb Rafe’s shoulders.
“Up-Up!” Maddie squealed.
“I already—” Rafe began.
“UP-UP!” Maddie said, taking a fistful of Rafe’s skin as she tried to wriggle higher. He let out a hiss, trying to shift away as the toddler pulled at his sun-kissed skin before quickly folding to her demands.
“Okay, okay, alright.” Rafe scoffed, grabbing Maddie under her armpits before lifting her above his head and setting her atop his shoulders. She immediately made herself comfortable, folding her hands atop Rafe’s head before plopping her chin atop them.
“Aww, she’s just like Baby J.” Y/n cooed, quirking a brow at Rafe, who rolled his eyes.
“And we don’t need another one of those…” Rafe huffed.
“Rafe, that is our niece!” Y/n scolded, swatting at Rafe’s shoulder.
“I was just kidding—” Rafe chuckled.
“MAMA!” Maddie suddenly screamed, pointing forward. Y/n and Rafe’s eyes followed her chubby finger, gazes falling on a panicked woman whose face immediately melted with relief before rushing over towards them.
“Oh my god, Maddie!” The woman said, tears brimming in her eyes as she reached up for her daughter.
“Mama!” Maddie said excitedly, practically throwing herself off of Rafe’s shoulders and into her mother’s arms. The woman hugged her daughter tight, burying her face into the top of Maddie’s head before pressing kisses all over her chubby cheeks.
“Oh, sweetheart…” The woman cooed.
Y/n and Rafe stood shoulder to shoulder, watching as the mother was reunited with her daughter. The woman squeezed Maddie tight one last time before finally looking up at them.
“Oh my god, thank you so much.” The woman said with a shaky gasp. “I– I was talking to my sister a– and I—”
“It’s okay. Seriously.” Y/n said with a gentle nod.
“Shit happens.” Rafe shrugged, the lady instinctively clamped a hand over Maddie’s ear. “Sorry.”
“No, sorry.” The woman exhaled. “I cannot thank you enough. I’m just glad she found you both and not some… creeps.”
“Well, we’re just happy she’s safe.” Y/n smiled. “She’s such a sweetheart, really.”
The woman grinned, pressing a kiss to Maddie’s temple. The little girl giggled, smiling a toothless grin.
“Are you two parents?” The woman asked. Rafe’s eyes shot wide open, y/n letting out a sputtering, exasperated laugh.
“Oh, no.” Y/n said with a wide wave of her hand. “No, no, no… not us. Not— still so young, y’know? Maybe one day?”
Y/n looked over at Rafe with a slight cringe, who swallowed harshly, quickly nodding along as he crossed his arms across his chest. He tried his best to hide his heart that was currently threatening to jump out of his chest in a way that definitely wasn’t how a best friend’s heart should be behaving.
“Oh,” the woman nodded politely. “Well, I’m sure you’ll both be wonderful parents… one day.”
Y/n’s eyes widened as she let out a nervous giggle, shoving at Rafe’s shoulder as he choked on his own saliva. She could feel her cheeks warm as the woman grinned, glancing between the two of them. Y/n’s stomach did a weird flip-flop, an almost fluttery, dreamlike feeling swirling around at the thought of a… future like that with Rafe.
“Thank you.” The woman said once more. “Seriously, thank you.”
“It’s no problem.” Rafe cleared his throat. The woman smiled.
“Okay now, Maddie, say ‘thank you’.” The woman said, bouncing Maddie lightly.
“‘Fank you.” The little girl said, looking between the two of them.
“Goodbye!” The woman said, waving with her free hand.
“Goo- bye!” Maddie said, waving with a chubby hand. Y/n waved back at her, Rafe even giving a quick wave as the baby and her mother walked away. Once they had gotten far enough down the beach and Maddie had stopped excitedly waving to them, y/n held a hand over her heart.
“What a sweetheart.” Y/n swooned, letting out a long exhale before turning to walk back down the beach. Rafe watched as Maddie yawned before plopping her head down on her mother’s chest, just like she’d done when y/n had held her.
“Yeah, what a sweetheart.” Rafe murmured to himself then turned to follow y/n down the beach before his mind could wander to futures he knew he could only dream of.
ᯓᡣ𐭩 summary ─ ୨୧ ─ in which Rafe hatches a plan to ensure you stay by his side, by making you dependent on him.
ᯓᡣ𐭩 warnings ─ ୨୧ ─ explicit language noncon/dubcon, smut, rafe drugs reader, substance abuse, toxic relationship, emotional abuse, baby trapping/forced pregnancy, possessiveness, controlling behaviors, threats of violence, loss of virginity, corruption, breeding kink, dirty talk (like a lot), abandonment issues, manipulation, rough sex, hairpulling, fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, powerplay, choking, semi public sex, car sex, creampie (please dni if your sensitive to these topics your mental health should come first)
ᯓᡣ𐭩 wc ─ ୨୧ ─ 8,960
⋆˚✿˖° a/n ─ ୨୧ ─ is there a plot not really, it may seem long but 80% of this is smut. this is unrelated but i think his season 1 & 2 rafe hair were elite to me but I just hate buzz cuts on everyone so my opinion doesn't matter here. The ‘Lila’ is now edited I use it as a placeholder (because for some reason I hate putting y/n while writing) before I replace it with y/n but of course my dumbass forgot to do that when I published this.
Rafe sits across from you at your usual table in the country club, his jaw clenching rhythmically as he watches you flip through the college applications. His fingers drum against the polished wooden table, creating a nervous pattern that matches his increasing anxiety. The sight of all those prestigious university names makes his stomach turn - Harvard, Yale, Princeton - each one threatening to take you further away from Outer Banks, from him. He barely touches his plate of steak, too preoccupied with the growing unease in his chest.
"Why the fuck are you even looking at schools that far?" He snaps suddenly, his voice carrying a sharp edge as he reaches across to snatch one of your fries, popping it into his mouth with more force than necessary. His blue eyes darken with barely contained irritation, especially when he catches Topper's wave from across the room. He returns it with a curt nod, his attention immediately returning to you. "You know there's perfectly good schools right here in North Carolina. UNC's got a decent program."
You glance up from your binder, your eyes meeting Rafe's intense blue ones. You set down your fork carefully on your half-eaten Caesar salad, a soft sigh escaping your lips. The sunlight streaming through the country club's windows catches on your hair, creating a halo effect around your skin. "Baby, we've talked about this," you say gently, "These schools have amazing programs for what I want to study. And it's not like I'm making any decisions yet - I'm just looking at options."
The afternoon sun streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows catches on his rings as he reaches up to run a hand through his disheveled hair, a telltale sign of his growing agitation. The country club bustles around them with the usual crowd of Kooks - women in tennis whites gossiping over martinis, men in polo shirts discussing their latest yacht purchases. But Rafe's focus remains fixed on those damned college applications, his jaw working overtime as he grinds his teeth.
The cocaine from earlier isn't helping his paranoia, making his thoughts race faster than he can process them. The idea of you leaving, of losing control over this one good thing in his life, sends a fresh wave of anxiety through his system. His free hand unconsciously reaches up to rub at his chest, a nervous tick he's developed. The country club suddenly feels too small, too confined, and he can feel his breathing getting slightly erratic. "Just... just put those away for now," he demands, trying to maintain his composure despite the rising panic in his chest. "We're supposed to be having lunch, not planning your fucking escape route."
You reach across the table with your free hand, your fingers brushing against his chest where he's rubbing anxiously. The familiar scent of his cologne mixed with something sharper - probably remnants of whatever he'd been doing before lunch - fills your nostrils as you lean closer. "Rafe, you're spiraling again," you observe quietly, mindful of the other diners around them. Your eyes flick briefly to Topper and his mother as they pass, offering a polite smile before returning your attention to your increasingly agitated boyfriend. "And you know that's not fair. I'm not trying to escape anything, especially not you."
"Besides," he continues, his tone taking on that manipulative edge he's so good at, "You really want to leave all this behind? The island, the parties, me?" He leans forward, lowering his voice to that dangerous whisper he uses when he's trying to get his way. "You know I can't follow you out there. I've got responsibilities here, the family business..." His hand shoots out to grab your wrist, not painfully, but firmly enough to make his point. "And what about us? You're going to throw away what we have for some fancy degree you could get right here?"
The weight of his intense stare makes you shift in your seat, your sundress rustling against the plush cushions. You can see the telltale signs of his growing panic - the clenched jaw, the rapid breathing, the way his fingers keep twitching against the table. Part of you wants to close the binder, to give in like you usually do when he gets like this. But another part, the part that's been dreaming about life beyond the island since you were little, keeps your hand steady on the applications. "What about a compromise?" you suggest, your voice taking on that soothing tone you learned to use when he's on edge. "What if I apply to both - some schools here in North Carolina and some out of state? That way we have options to discuss later?"
Your free hand moves from his chest to his face, your thumb gently stroking along his clenched jaw. You can feel the tension there, the way he's grinding his teeth. The chatter of the country club fades into background noise as you focus solely on him, knowing how quickly his mood can shift when he feels cornered. "And hey," you add, your voice dropping to a whisper as you lean even closer, your lips quirking into a small smile, "No matter where I end up going, you know you're the only one I want, right? These other Kook boys could never compare to my Rafe Cameron."
The familiar weight of the promise ring he gave you three months ago sits heavy on your finger, catching the light as you move. You learned over your time together that sometimes Rafe needs this - needs to be reminded that he's your choice, that you're his. Even if the possessiveness sometimes scares you, even if his mood swings leave you walking on eggshells, you can't deny the way your heart still races when he looks at you like he is now - like you're something precious he's terrified of losing. "Can we at least look through them together? You might see something you like too."
Rafe lets go of your wrist his hand shooting out to slam your binder shut with enough force to make nearby diners jump. "Don't fucking patronize me," he growls, his voice low and threatening despite their public setting. The gentle stroke of your thumb against his jaw only heightens his agitation, like a match to gasoline. "You think I don't see what this is?" He leans forward, invading your space across the table, his blue eyes wild with a mixture of possessiveness and barely contained rage. "First it's just 'looking at options,' then suddenly you're gone, probably fucking some ivy league asshole who doesn't know you like I do." His breathing becomes more erratic, the hand on his chest pressing harder as anxiety mingles with his growing anger. The familiar scent of your perfume - usually calming - now seems to mock him with its potential absence.
"You're trying to leave me, just like everyone else. Just like my mom, just like Sarah..." His voice cracks slightly on his sister's name before hardening again. "Well, I won't fucking let you."
You tense at the sudden shift in Rafe's demeanor, your heart rate picking up as you watch him slam your binder shut. The warmth drains from your eyes, replaced by a flicker of fear you try desperately to hide. Your skin prickles with goosebumps as he invades your space, his paranoia rolling off him in waves. You’ve seen him like this before, but never quite this intense, never quite this threatening in such a public place.
"Rafe, please," you whisper, your voice trembling slightly as you glance around at the other diners who are now openly staring at them. Your sundress suddenly feels too thin, too exposed under his wild-eyed gaze. You can smell the mixture of his cologne and sweat, and see the way his pupils are dilated - clear signs he's high again. "You're making a scene. Can we please just discuss this somewhere private?"
A laugh escapes his throat at your suggestion of talking, the sound drawing more concerned glances from nearby tables. "Discuss? There's nothing to fucking discuss." His voice takes on that manipulative tone he knows works so well, mixing threat with vulnerability. "You belong here, with me. Do you think any of those places are gonna love you like I do? Understand you like I do?" His eyes flick to the promise ring on your finger, a visible reminder of his claim on you. "Or maybe that's what you want - to get away from the crazy boyfriend, right? Is that what this is about?"
The cocaine-fueled paranoia reaches a crescendo as he suddenly stands, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. He towers over you, his presence intimidating despite the public setting. "You're not going anywhere," he declares, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper as he leans down close to your ear. "And if you try, I'll make sure every single one of those fancy schools loses your application. Don't test me, baby." His lips brush against your ear as he speaks, a twisted mixture of threat and affection that's purely him. "Now get your shit. We're leaving." His hand moves to grip your upper arm, ready to pull you up from your chair, his entire body vibrating with barely contained violence and possessive need.
The promise ring feels like it's burning on your finger as tears start to well up in your eyes. "I'm not trying to leave you," you plead, your voice barely above a whisper. I'm not trying to leave you, I love you, Rafe. You know I do. But you're hurting me right now." You can feel your body starting to shake, whether from fear or adrenaline, you're not sure anymore.
You let him pull you to your feet, knowing resistance will only make things worse. Your college applications lay forgotten on the table as you stumble slightly, your legs weak from the sudden movement. "Okay," you concede, your voice small and defeated. "Okay, we can go. Just... please calm down. Please." Your free hand comes up to rest on his chest again, feeling his racing heartbeat under your palm. "Let's go to your family's place and talk about this properly. Just you and me, baby. Like we always do."
Rafe feels you trembling beneath his grip, and something in your tear-filled eyes pierces through his cocaine-addled rage. His breathing is still erratic, but the feel of your hand against his racing heart starts to ground him. The familiar scent of your perfume begins to cut through the paranoid haze, reminding him of lazy mornings in his bed, of your soft sighs against his neck. His grip on your arm loosens slightly, though he doesn't let go completely.
"Fuck," he mutters, running his free hand through his disheveled hair as reality starts seeping back in. The stares of the other country club patrons finally register, and he can feel his father's disapproval even in his absence. His jaw clenches and unclenches as he struggles to regain control. "Yeah... yeah, okay. Let's go home." His voice is still rough, but the dangerous edge has dulled somewhat. He reaches past you to grab your binder, shoving it under his arm - he's not leaving it here for you to come back to later.
The walk to his truck is tense, his hand moving from your arm to the small of your back - still possessive, but less aggressive. The cocaine is making him jittery, his thoughts racing between paranoia and guilt. Once you're inside his truck, he slams his palms against the steering wheel, making you jump. "I just..." he starts, his voice cracking slightly. "I can't lose you too, baby. I can't." His blue eyes, when they meet yours, are still wild but now tinged with desperation rather than rage. "Everyone leaves. Everyone always fucking leaves."
He reaches across the center console to pull you closer, burying his face in your neck. His breathing is still uneven, but slower now as he inhales your scent. "Stay," he whispers against your skin, his voice taking on that vulnerable quality that only you get to hear. "Just... stay with me. Please." His hand slides up to cup the back of your neck, his thumb stroking the soft skin there. It's the closest thing to an apology you’re likely to get from him, this moment of raw vulnerability between the storms of his temper.
Rafe paces anxiously across Topper's home gym, his footsteps echoing against the polished hardwood floors as sweat drips down his bare chest from their workout session. The late afternoon sun streams through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting long shadows across the expensive exercise equipment. His muscles are tense not just from lifting weights, but from the constant anxiety gnawing at his insides about your potential departure. The cocaine from earlier is still coursing through his system, making his thoughts race faster than he can process them.
"I'm telling you guys, she's fucking leaving me," he complains, running a hand through his sweat-dampened hair as he continues his relentless pacing. The familiar panic starts rising in his chest again, making him rub at it absently. "All these fucking college applications... Harvard, Yale, Princeton. She's planning her escape and I can't... I can't fucking let that happen." His blue eyes are wild as they dart between Kelce and Topper, sprawled across the leather bench press seats, watching their friend's mounting distress.
Kelce exchanges a knowing look with Topper before speaking up, his voice careful as he watches Rafe's increasingly agitated movements. "Man, you need to chill. Maybe if you weren't so fucking intense about it-" Rafe's sharp laugh cuts him off, the sound bouncing off the mirrored walls. "Intense? You think I'm being intense?" Rafe's voice rises as he spins to face them, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. "My girl's trying to leave the fucking state, and you're telling me to chill?"
"Well," Topper drawls, wiping his face with a monogrammed towel, "you could always do what my cousin did when his girlfriend tried to leave for college." He pauses for dramatic effect, a smirk playing on his lips. "Got her knocked up. Can't exactly go to Yale with a baby on the way, can you?" He's clearly joking, but something in Rafe's expression shifts, his eyes taking on that dangerous gleam that appears when he's formulating a plan.
"That's..." Rafe stops pacing, his mind racing with possibilities. His jaw clenches rhythmically as he processes the idea. "That's fucking perfect." He starts pacing again, but this time with purpose, his movements predatory rather than anxious. "She'd have to stay. She'd be tied to me forever." His voice takes on that obsessive quality that appears when he's fixating on something. "No more fucking college applications, no more threats of leaving. She'd be mine, completely mine."
"Dude," Kelce sits up straighter, realizing Rafe's actually considering it. "I don't think that's what Topper meant-" But Rafe's already lost in his world, his cocaine-fueled paranoia latching onto this new solution like a lifeline. "She's still a virgin too," he continues, more to himself than his friends, his rings catching the light as he gestures animatedly. "Waiting for the 'right moment' or some shit. Well, guess that moment's coming sooner than she thought."
"No, no, this could work," Rafe continues, his voice taking on that edge that suggests he's spiraling into one of his episodes. "Her parents are traditional as fuck, they'd make her keep it. And Ward's always going on about wanting grandkids to carry on the Cameron name..." He's fully pacing now, his movements jerky and aggressive as the plan solidifies in his mind. "She's been hinting about wanting to do it soon anyway. Valentine's Day is coming up..."
The gym falls silent except for the sound of Rafe's footsteps and heavy breathing. Neither Kelce nor Topper dare speak, knowing from experience that trying to talk Rafe down when he's like this - especially when he's high - is pointless and potentially dangerous. They watch as their friend works himself into a frenzy, plotting the permanent capture of his girlfriend with the same intense focus he applies to everything he wants to possess.
"It's perfect," Rafe finally declares, stopping his pacing to face his friends. His chest heaves with excited breaths, sweat making his skin shine in the fading sunlight. "She'll never leave me then. She'll have to stay here, raise our kid, be the perfect fucking family."
The thought of you, permanently his, unable to leave him, sends a rush of possessive pleasure through his system. "You guys didn't hear any of this," he suddenly stops, fixing both Kelce and Topper with a threatening stare. "Not a fucking word to anyone, got it?" His voice carries that dangerous edge that reminds them why people are scared of him, why even other Kooks think twice before crossing him.
"Jesus Christ, Rafe," Topper mutters, running a hand through his hair as he watches his friend's descent into this new obsession. "This is fucked up, even for you." But he knows that look in Rafe's eyes. Once Rafe sets his mind to something, especially when he's high, there's no talking him out of it. The gym feels smaller suddenly, charged with the energy of Rafe's newfound determination.
Rafe stands at the door of the l/n estate, his tall frame cutting an imposing figure in his tailored black suit. His blue eyes are slightly dilated from the line of cocaine he did in his truck to calm his nerves, but he's made sure to eye drop and cologne himself thoroughly. The velvet box containing the surprise he has planned for later weighs heavy in his pocket as he shifts anxiously, his rings catching the light as he reaches up to adjust his tie.
When Paul opens the door, Rafe immediately straightens his posture, forcing his most charming smile - the one he uses when he needs to impress. "Good evening, Mr. L/N," he greets, his voice steady despite the cocaine making his heart race. The older man's scrutinizing gaze reminds him uncomfortably of his own father's disapproving stares. The foyer behind Paul gleams with old money - crystal chandeliers, marble floors, and family portraits that speak of generations of Kook legacy.
"Rafe," Paul acknowledges with a slight nod, his eyes narrowing as he takes in the young man's appearance. There's something about Ward Cameron's son that has always set him on edge, though he can't quite put his finger on what. Maybe it's the occasional wild look in his eyes or the way his daughter seems to walk on eggshells around him sometimes. "Y/N is still getting ready. Come in." He steps aside, allowing Rafe into the pristine foyer.
The sound of Rafe's expensive dress shoes echoes against the marble as he enters, his hands sliding into his pockets to hide their slight tremor - partly from the drugs, partly from anticipation of what he has planned for tonight. The house smells of old money and fresh flowers, much like his own family's estate, but somehow more sterile, fitting for a plastic surgeon's home. His fingers brush against the small packet of powder in his pocket, next to the ring box - just enough to keep him steady through dinner.
"I trust you'll have her home at a reasonable hour," Paul's voice cuts through Rafe's thoughts, making him turn to face the older man. "Of course, sir," Rafe responds, that practiced smile still in place even as his jaw clenches slightly. "We just have reservations at Le Rivage, then maybe a walk on the beach." What he doesn't mention is the rest of his plans for the evening - the champagne waiting in his truck, the blankets he's laid out at his secret spot on the beach, the pills dissolved in one of the champagne glasses that will make sure everything goes according to plan.
The sound of heels on marble draws both men's attention to the grand staircase, and Rafe's breath catches in his throat. You descend like something out of a dream, your skin glowing against the deep red of your dress making his hands itch with the need to touch you. His blue eyes darken as they track your movement, his mind already racing ahead to later in the evening, to all the ways he plans to claim you completely.
"You look fucking perfect," he breathes out when you reach the bottom of the stairs, catching himself too late to censor his language in front of your father. But he can't help it - the cocaine making him more impulsive than usual, and the sight of you making his blood run hot. He steps forward to meet you, one hand reaching out to brush against your waist, proprietary and possessive even under your father's watchful gaze. The scent of your perfume mingles with the lingering chemical taste in the back of his throat, making him dizzy with want and anticipation.
Tonight's the night, he thinks, his grip on your waist tightening slightly as Paul insists on taking pictures. Tonight you become his completely, permanently. No more college applications, no more threats of leaving. The thought makes him pull you closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "Ready for your Valentine's surprise, baby?" His voice carries that dangerous edge that anyone else would recognize as a warning, but he knows his sweet, innocent Y/N won't catch it. Not until it's too late.
Rafe helps you into his truck, his hand lingering possessively on your lower back as you climb in. The interior smells of expensive leather and his cologne, mixed with something chemical that makes you wrinkle your nose slightly. He slides into the driver's seat, his movements are precise despite the cocaine coursing through his system. The engine purrs to life, and he immediately reaches for your hand, intertwining your fingers as he pulls away from your family's estate.
"You really do look fucking incredible tonight," he murmurs, his blue eyes flickering between you and the road. His thumb traces circles on your palm, a gesture that would seem sweet if not for the slight tremor in his hand. "That dress is driving me crazy." His rings catch the streetlights as you drive through Figure 8, passing other massive estates and perfectly manicured lawns.
"Thank you, baby," You respond softly, your free hand smoothing down the red fabric of your dress. "You clean up pretty nice yourself." You glance at him, admiring how the streetlights cast shadows across his sharp jawline. "So, are you going to tell me where we're going for dinner? You've been so secretive about tonight."
Rafe's grip on your hand tightens almost imperceptibly. "It's a surprise, remember?" His voice carries that edge of control he can never quite hide. "But first..." He reaches behind your seat with his free hand, pulling out a small gift bag. "I got you something to wear at dinner." Inside is a delicate diamond necklace, the stones catching the light like tiny stars.
"Oh, Rafe," You breathe, reaching for the necklace. "It's beautiful. You didn't have to-" You are cut off by his laugh, that sharp sound that always makes your stomach flip. "Of course I did. Only the best for my girl." He pulls into a secluded spot overlooking the water, putting the truck in park. "Here, let me put it on you."
His hands are slightly unsteady as he fastens the necklace around your throat, his breath hot against your neck. "Perfect," he whispers, his fingers trailing down your spine. "Just like you'll be after tonight." There's something in his voice that makes you shiver, though you can't quite place why. "What do you mean?" you ask, turning to face him.
Rafe's eyes are darker now, pupils blown wide as he stares at you. "Just that I've got big plans for us, baby." His hand comes up to cup your face, thumb brushing across your bottom lip. "Tonight's gonna change everything." He leans in closer, his other hand sliding up your thigh, pushing the fabric of your dress higher. "You trust me, right?"
"Of course I do," You whisper, even as something in your gut tells you something's off. You can feel his heart racing where your bodies are pressed together and you can smell something sharp and chemical on his breath beneath the mint. "Rafe, are you okay? You seem...different tonight."
"Never better," he responds, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. "Just excited to give you all your surprises." His hand moves higher up your thigh, possessive and demanding. "Now, how about we have a little drink before dinner? To celebrate Valentine's Day?" He reaches behind the seat again, pulling out an expensive bottle of champagne and two glasses.
Rafe pours the champagne with calculated precision, his hands steadier now as he hands you your specially prepared glass. The moonlight filtering through the truck's windows catches the diamond necklace at your throat, reminding him of how perfectly it marks you as his. His blue eyes track your every movement as you accept the glass, noting how the red fabric of your dress has ridden up slightly from your position.
"To us," he proposes, raising his glass with that dangerous smile playing at his lips. The cocaine makes everything feel more intense - the way your perfume fills the confined space of his truck, the soft sound of your breathing, the sight of your lips touching the rim of the glass. He watches intently as you take a sip, something predatory flickering in his eyes. "And to all the surprises tonight has in store."
"Mmm, this is really good," You comment, taking another sip. You don’t notice how Rafe barely touches his glass, too focused on watching your drink. "But shouldn't we head to dinner? We don't want to lose our reservation." You move to check the time on your phone, but Rafe's hand shoots out to stop you, his fingers wrapping around your wrist with practiced possessiveness.
"We've got time," he assures you, his voice dropping lower as he leans closer. His free hand comes up to trace the line of the necklace, fingers ghosting over your collarbone. "Besides, I want to enjoy this moment. Just you and me." He can feel your pulse racing under his fingers where they press against your wrist. "Finish your drink, baby. Then we can talk about dinner."
He watches as you obediently take another sip, then another. "You know what I love about you, Y/N?" His voice is rough now, heavy with want and something darker. "How fucking perfect you are. How innocent." His fingers trace patterns on your inner thigh, making you shiver. "How you trust me completely."
"Rafe," you breathe, and he notices your words are slightly slurred now. Your eyes are starting to look unfocused as you blink slowly at him. "I feel... strange." The champagne glass slips from your fingers, but he catches it smoothly, setting it aside. His heart is racing with a mixture of cocaine-fueled excitement and dark anticipation.
"Shh, baby," he soothes, pulling you closer as you start to sway slightly. "I've got you. Always got you." His lips brush against your neck, just above the diamond necklace. "And after tonight, you'll always be mine. No more college applications, no more threats of leaving." His voice takes on that possessive edge that would normally frighten you, but the drugs in your system are making everything feel distant and hazy.
"What did you..." you try to ask, your head falling back against the seat as your limbs grow heavy. Rafe's hand comes up to cup your face, his thumb stroking your cheek as he watches the drugs take effect. The moonlight casts shadows across his face, making his expression look almost demonic as he smiles down at you.
"Just making sure tonight goes exactly as planned," he whispers, his other hand already reaching for the blankets he has stashed behind the seats. "Don't fight it, baby. Just let go. Let me take care of everything." His lips crash against yours, swallowing any protest you might have made as the drugs pull you deeper under their influence.
Rafe watches with dark satisfaction as your movements become increasingly sluggish, your normally bright eyes growing heavy-lidded and unfocused. He shifts in his seat, reaching to recline both of your seats back to create more space in the truck's cabin. The moonlight streaming through the windows casts ethereal shadows across your skin as he positions your body how he wants.
"Rafe..." you mumble, your voice thick and confused as he spreads the blankets beneath you. "What's happening? I feel so..." Your word trails off as he captures your lips in another possessive kiss, his hands already working at the zipper of your red dress.
"Just relax, baby," he whispers against your mouth, cocaine making his movements more aggressive than usual. "Let me take care of you." His fingers trace the newly exposed skin of your back, savoring how you shiver under his touch despite your drugged state. "You look so fucking perfect like this. So helpless. So mine."
Rafe's hands slide possessively over your body as he peels the red dress from your drugged form, revealing the black underwear underneath. His blue eyes darken with predatory hunger as he drinks in the sight of you laid out beneath him in his truck, the diamond necklace glinting at your throat like a collar. The softness of your skin, the way your chest rises and falls with each shallow breath, the little whimpers that escape your lips as you try to fight through the fog in your mind.
"Shh, baby," he soothes, his voice rough with desire as his hands roam over your exposed flesh. "Just let it happen. You know you want this." His fingers trace the edge of your lacy bra, teasing your hardened nipples through the delicate fabric. "Been waiting so fucking long for this moment. To make you completely mine."
"Rafe, please," You slurred, weakly trying to push at his chest. "Something's wrong... I can't..." Your protests are cut off by his mouth crashing against yours, his tongue forcing its way past your lips as his hand slides between your thighs. He groans when he feels how wet you are through your panties, his cock straining against his suit pants.
"Look how ready you are for me," he rubs circles against your clit through the lace. "Your body knows what it wants, even if your mind's trying to fight it." He pulls back to admire his handiwork - your lips swollen from his kisses, your pupils blown wide from the drugs, your chest heaving as you struggle to focus. "Gonna fill you up so good, baby. Gonna put my baby in you tonight."
Rafe’s fingers hook into your panties, slowly dragging them down your legs as you weakly try to squeeze your thighs together. The moonlight catches on the wetness between your legs, making him groan. "Fuck, look at that pretty pussy," he breathes, his fingers spreading you open. "All perfect and untouched. Not for long though."
Rafe's fingers work methodically between your thighs, spreading your wetness as he watches your face contort with unwilling pleasure. His other hand pins your wrists above your head, his rings cold against your feverish skin. The truck's windows are starting to fog up from your heavy breathing, creating a private cocoon around you.
"That's it, baby," he growls, sliding two fingers into you, feeling how tight you are around them. "Gonna stretch you out nice and slow before I fuck a baby into you." His cock throbs painfully in his pants as he watches you arch beneath him, the drugs making you more responsive even as you try to resist.
"No... Rafe... please," You whimper, your head thrashing weakly against the leather seat. But your body betrays you, hips rocking against his skilled fingers as he finds that spot inside you that makes you see stars. The diamond necklace glints at your throat as you gasp, reminding him of his ownership.
"Look at you, taking my fingers so well," he praises darkly, adding a third finger to stretch you further. "Can't wait to feel this tight little cunt around my cock." His thumb finds your clit, rubbing circles that make your whole body tremble. "Gonna fill you up so good, baby. Make sure my cum stays deep inside you until it takes."
The way your walls clench around his fingers, the little sounds you make as he works your body, the perfect arch of your back as you fight between pleasure and resistance. He leans down to capture one of your nipples in his mouth, biting down just hard enough to make you cry out.
"Please," you beg, though whether you're begging him to stop or continue, even you don’t know anymore. Your body is on fire, every nerve ending singing from his touch as the drugs make everything feel more intense. "Rafe... I can't..."
"Yes, you can," he demands, curling his fingers inside you as his thumb speeds up on your clit. "Come on my fingers like a good girl. Show me how much you want my cock." His blue eyes are wild with possession as he watches you fall apart beneath him, knowing that after tonight, you’ll never be able to leave him.
Rafe’s fingers work relentlessly between your thighs. His free hand moves from your wrists to grip your throat, right above the diamond necklace, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp. "Let me feel that tight little pussy squeeze my fingers."
Your body betrays you even as your mind tries to resist, waves of unwilling pleasure building under his skilled touch. The drugs make everything feel heightened - the stretch of his fingers inside you, the pressure of his thumb on your clit, the heat of his breath against your neck. Your legs start to tremble as you approach your peak.
"That's it, baby," He watches your face contort with pleasure and confusion. His cock strains painfully against his suit pants, demanding attention. But he forces himself to wait, to savor this moment of taking your innocence piece by piece. "Give it to me. Show me how good I make you feel."
The sound of your heavy breathing fills the truck's cabin, mixing with the wet sounds of his fingers working between your legs. Rafe's eyes are dark with possession as he watches you fight against the inevitable, knowing that each moment brings him closer to his ultimate goal. The moonlight catches on the sweat beading on your skin, making you glow ethereally.
"I... I can't..." You whimper, your back arching off the seat as pleasure builds to an unbearable level. The drugs make everything feel like too much and not enough all at once. "Rafe, please..." Your fingers clutch desperately at his shoulders. "You can, and you will," he commands, his voice taking on that dangerous edge that brooks no argument. His fingers curl inside you, finding that spot that makes you see stars while his thumb circles your clit with practiced precision. "Come for me now. Let me feel it."
Rafe watches with dark satisfaction as your body trembles beneath him, your back arching off the leather seat as pleasure builds. His fingers work relentlessly inside your pussy, stretching and preparing you for what's to come. The way your walls clench around his digits, the little gasps and moans you can't hold back, the perfect arch of your spine as you fight between resistance and ecstasy.
"That's my good girl," his free hand moving from your throat to grip your hair, forcing you to look at him. "Watch me while you come. Want to see those pretty eyes when I make you fall apart." His thumb continues its relentless assault on your clit as his fingers curl inside you, hitting that spot that makes your whole body shake.
Your eyes flutter open, glazed with drugs and unwilling pleasure. The moonlight catches the tears gathering in your lashes as you stare up at him, unable to look away from his intense blue gaze. Your lips part in a silent scream as the pressure builds to an unbearable level, your body tightening around his fingers.
"Please," Her hands clutch desperately at his shoulders, leaving crescent marks through his expensive shirt. "Rafe, I can't... it's too much..."
"Yes, you can," he demands, his voice rough with desire and dominance. "Come for me now, baby. Show me how good I make you feel." His fingers speed up inside you, the wet sounds of your arousal filling the truck's cabin. "Let go. Let me see you fall apart before I fuck you properly."
The combination of his skilled fingers, the drugs in your system, and his commanding voice finally pushes you over the edge. Your whole body goes rigid as pleasure crashes through you, walls clenching rhythmically around his fingers as you come with a broken cry of his name.
"Beautiful," he breathes, working you through the aftershocks as you tremble beneath him. "But we're not done yet, baby. Not even close." His free hand moves to his belt, the sound of the buckle loud in the confined space. "Now it's time for the main event. Time to make you completely mine."
Rafe takes his time unbuckling his belt, the metallic sound echoing in the confined space of his truck. His blue eyes never leave your face as he watches you come down from your high, your body still trembling with aftershocks. Your chest heaves with each breath, the glisten of sweat on your skin, the slight quiver of your thighs as they remain spread for him.
"Look at you," he grunts, finally freeing his throbbing cock from his pants. "All fucked out from just my fingers, and we haven't even gotten to the best part yet." His hand wraps around his length, stroking slowly as he positions himself between your legs. The head of his cock brushes against your sensitive folds, making you whimper. "Been waiting so fucking long for this moment."
"Rafe," You slur, your drugged mind struggling to focus as you feel his size pressing against your entrance. "Wait... I'm not ready..." Your weak protests only serve to fuel his desire, his grip tightening on your hip as he holds you in place. The diamond necklace at your throat catches the moonlight as you try to shift away.
"You're more than ready, baby," he counters, using his free hand to spread your wetness along his length. "Your body's begging for it. Been begging for it all night." He leans down, capturing your lips in a possessive kiss as he starts to push inside your entrance. The stretch is intense, making you gasp against his mouth. "Gonna make you take every fucking inch."
His cock inches forward slowly, savoring the way your walls resist his invasion. The truck's windows are completely fogged now, creating a private world for just the two of you. Rafe's breathing grows heavier as he feels your tight heat enveloping him, his control starting to slip. "Fuck, you're so tight," he groans, his fingers digging into your hip hard enough to leave bruises. "Taking my cock so well, just like I knew you would."
Tears stream down your cheeks as he stretches you open, the mixture of pain and drugged pleasure making your head spin. Your hands clutch at his shoulders, nails digging into the expensive fabric of his suit jacket. "Almost there, baby," he pants against your neck, his hips still pushing forward relentlessly. "Just a little more and you'll have all of me." His free hand slides between them to rub your clit, knowing the added stimulation will help your body accept him. "Gonna fill this tight little pussy up with my cum, make sure it takes. Make sure you can never leave me."
Rafe's hips finally meet yours as he bottoms out inside you, a groan of satisfaction rumbling deep in his chest. Your walls flutter around his length as you adjust to being completely filled for the first time. The truck's cabin is thick with the scent of sex and sweat, the leather seats creaking beneath them with each subtle movement.
"There we go," he pants against your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there. His hands grip your hips possessively as he holds himself still, savoring the moment. "Been dreaming about this for so fucking long, baby. About claiming you completely." You whimper beneath him, your mind is hazy from the drugs as your body struggles to accommodate his size. Tears continue to stream down your cheeks, your fingers clutch weakly at his shoulders as you feel him throb inside you.
"Please," you manage to gasp, though your drugged state makes it hard to form coherent thoughts. "It's too much... I can't..." Your protests are cut off by his mouth capturing yours in a demanding kiss, his tongue invading your mouth just as his cock has invaded your body.
"Yes, you can," his hips starting to move in shallow thrusts. "And you will. Gonna fuck a baby into you tonight, make sure you can never leave me." His movements gradually become deeper, and more purposeful, as he establishes a rhythm. "Watch me while I do it. Want to see those pretty eyes when I breed you." One hand slides from your hip to grip your jaw, forcing you to maintain eye contact as he fucks into you. "That's it," he praises darkly as your body starts to respond despite your protests. "Take it like a good girl. Let me feel that pussy squeeze my cock."
Rafe's movements become more intense, his hips snapping against yours with increasing force as he chases his release. The truck rocks with your movements, his hands grip your hips bruisingly tight as he pounds into you, watching with dark satisfaction as pleasure and pain war across your drugged features.
"Fuck, you feel perfect," he groans, one hand sliding up to wrap around your throat just above the diamond necklace. "So fucking tight around my cock. Like you were made for this." His thumb traces your bottom lip as he continues his relentless pace. "Made to take my cum, to carry my baby."
Your head thrashes weakly against the leather seat, your body overwhelmed by the mix of drugs and unwilling pleasure. Your walls clench around him involuntarily as another orgasm builds, making him grunt with satisfaction. "That's it, baby," he praises darkly. "Squeeze my cock just like that. Show me how much your body wants this." His free hand moves between them to rub your clit, determined to make you come around his cock. "Gonna fill you up so good," he pants, his rhythm becoming more erratic as he nears his release. "Gonna pump you full of my cum until it takes. Make sure everyone knows you belong to me." His fingers speed up on your clit as he feels your walls starting to flutter. "Come for me now, baby. Let me feel that tight little pussy milk my cock."
Rafe's grip tightens on your hips as he feels his release building, his thrusts becoming more desperate and erratic. "That's it, baby," feeling your walls clench around him as another orgasm builds in your drugged body. "Come on my cock like a good girl. Show me how much you want my cum." Your back arches off the seat as pleasure crashes through you against your will, your walls squeezing his length rhythmically. The sight of you coming undone beneath him finally pushes Rafe over the edge. With a guttural groan, he buries himself deep inside you, his cock pulsing as he empties himself into your pussy. "Fuck," he pants against your neck, grinding his hips to ensure his cum stays deep inside. "All mine now."
He collapses on top of you for a moment, both of you catching your breath in the steamy confines of his truck. The diamond necklace glints at your throat as he finally pulls out, watching with dark satisfaction as his release drips from your used pussy. "No more college applications, no more threats of leaving. You're stuck with me now, baby." Without a word, he starts fixing his clothes, already planning your next encounter in his mind.
"Let's get you home, baby," he says, his voice rough as he helps you dress on shaky legs. "Don't want your daddy getting suspicious." His hand rests possessively on your thigh as he starts the truck, knowing that after tonight, everything has changed. The drive back is silent except for your occasional whimpers, the drugs still making your head fuzzy as she processes what just happened.
A week later,
Rafe lounges against his truck at the Boneyard, The beach is relatively empty at this hour, just a few surfers catching the last waves of the day. His blue eyes track your movement, noting how pale you look, and how your usual confident stride seems shakier. A smirk plays at his lips, though he keeps his expression carefully neutral.
"Hey baby," he calls out, pushing off the truck to meet you. His hands immediately find your waist, pulling you close as he studies your face. "You sounded weird on the phone. Everything okay?" The concern in his voice is perfectly crafted, masking the satisfaction he feels as he takes in your distressed state.
Your hands tremble as you pull away from his embrace, wrapping your arms around yourself protectively. "Rafe, I... I need to tell you something." Your voice cracks slightly as you speak, tears already gathering in your eyes. "I went to the doctor today..."
"What's wrong?" Rafe steps closer, his hand coming up to cup your face with practiced gentleness. Inside, his heart races with anticipation, but his expression remains one of innocent concern. "You've been sick all week. Did they figure out what's wrong?"
"I'm pregnant," you whisper, the words carried away by the ocean breeze. Your eyes search his face desperately for any sign of recognition, any hint that he remembers your Valentine's night. "But I don't... I can't remember... The last thing I clearly remember is having champagne in your truck..."
Rafe's eyes widen in perfectly feigned shock, his hand dropping from your face as he takes a step back. "You're... what?" He runs a hand through his hair, the picture of a young man receiving unexpected news. "But we've never... I mean, I thought you wanted to wait?" His voice carries just the right amount of confusion and disbelief.
"That's just it," Your voice rises slightly, panic evident in your tone. "I don't remember! Valentine's Day is just... fuzzy. But the doctor said I'm about a week along, and you're the only one I've been with..." you trail off, tears now flowing freely down your cheeks.
Rafe pulls you into his arms, hiding his triumphant smile in your hair. "Shh, it's okay," he soothes, one hand moving to rest possessively over your still-flat stomach. "We'll figure this out together. I'm here for you, baby. Always." His voice drops lower, taking on that dangerous edge you're too distraught to notice. "Guess those college applications won't be necessary anymore, huh?"
His hand tightens possessively around your waist as you tremble against him, his other hand still resting on your stomach where his child is growing. The setting sun casts long shadows across the beach, the sound of waves providing a backdrop to your quiet sobs. His blue eyes gleam with dark satisfaction as he feels you collapse further into his embrace, exactly where he wants you.
"What am I going to tell my parents?" You whisper against his chest, your voice breaking. "My dad... he's going to kill me. And all my college plans..." You pull back slightly to look up at him, mascara running down your cheeks. "Rafe, I can't remember anything from that night. How did this happen?"
Rafe's jaw clenches as he maintains his facade of confusion and concern. "Hey, look at me," he demands softly, tilting your chin up with his fingers. "Your parents love you. And my family... well, Ward's always talking about wanting grandkids." His thumb wipes away your tears as he studies your face. "Maybe this is a good thing, you know? You and me, starting our own family."
"But I had plans," you protest weakly, your hands clutching at his shirt. "Harvard, Yale... I was supposed to get out of Outer Banks..." You don’t even notice how his grip tightens painfully at your words or the flash of possessive anger in his eyes.
"Fuck those plans," he growls, before quickly softening his tone. "I mean, things change, right? Sometimes for the better." His hand slides up to cup your face, forcing you to maintain eye contact. "You've got me now. Got us. Isn't that better than some fancy college where you don't know anyone?" He’s super hyper-focused on every detail - the way you unconsciously lean into his touch, how your body fits perfectly against his, the slight swell of your breasts that's already becoming noticeable. His other hand remains possessively on your stomach, imagining how it will grow with his child.
"I'm scared," You admit, your voice small against the sound of crashing waves. "Everything's happening so fast, and I can't remember... that night is just blank, Rafe. Doesn't that bother you?" You search his face for any sign of recognition, any hint of guilt.
But Rafe's expression remains carefully crafted a mixture of concern and determination. "What bothers me is seeing you upset," he lies smoothly, pulling you closer. "We'll figure this out together, okay? You and me and our baby. "No more talk about leaving, though. You belong here, with me. Got it?"
"We should tell our parents soon," he says, his voice carrying that edge of control he can never quite hide. "Get everything out in the open. But first, promise me something, baby. Promise me you'll stop looking at those college applications."
Your eyes widen with fresh tears as you stare up at him. "But Rafe, I can't just give up everything I've worked for..." Your voice trails off as his grip tightens slightly on your chin, his blue eyes darkening with barely contained possession.
"Those dreams were for the old Y/N," he states firmly, his thumb brushing across your bottom lip. "The one who didn't have a family to think about. Things are different now." His other hand presses harder against your stomach, a reminder of what's growing inside of you. "You've got bigger responsibilities. To me. To our baby."
The waves crash against the shore behind them as silence stretches between them. Rafe can feel your pulse racing beneath his fingers where they rest against your throat and can see the moment you start to break under the weight of reality. His plan is working perfectly - soon you’ll be completely his, tied to him forever through your child.
"I... I need time to think," You finally whisper, trying to step back from his embrace. But Rafe's grip remains firm, keeping you close as the last rays of sunlight disappear behind the horizon. His expression shifts into something darker, more possessive.
"No more thinking," One of his hands slid up to tangle in your hair. "No more plans that don't include me. You're mine now, Y/N. The sooner you accept that, the better." His voice carries a threat wrapped in velvet as he stares down at you. "Or should we talk about how convenient it is that you can't remember Valentine's Day?"
Rafe's threat hangs heavy in the air as your face drains of color. His fingers tighten in your hair, cocaine making his movements more aggressive than usual. The darkened beach feels suddenly oppressive as he towers over your trembling form.
"What... what do you mean?" You whisper, your voice is small and frightened as you search his face. The familiar warmth in his blue eyes has been replaced by something cold and calculating that makes your stomach turn.
"You really want to know what happened that night?" he asks, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. His hand slides from your stomach to your hip possessively. "Want me to tell you exactly how I made sure you'd never leave me? How I watched you drink that champagne, knowing what was in it?"
You try to pull away, but his grip is iron-tight as realization dawns on your face. "No," she breathes, shaking her head in denial. "You wouldn't... you couldn't..." But the predatory smile spreading across his face tells you everything you need to know.
"I did," he confirms, pulling you closer until your faces are inches apart. "And now you're carrying my baby. No more college applications. No more dreams of leaving. You're mine forever now, baby." His thumb brushes away a tear from your cheek with mock tenderness. "And if you ever think about telling anyone... well, who's going to believe the girl who can't remember her own Valentine's Day?"
The waves crash behind them as your world crumbles around you. You can feel the weight of the promise ring on your finger - once a symbol of love, now feeling more like a shackle. Rafe watches you process everything with dark satisfaction, knowing he's won completely.
"Why?" you finally manage to ask through your tears, your voice breaking on the single word. The hand in your hair tightens as Rafe's expression turns almost tender, though his eyes remain cold.
"Because you're mine," he states simply as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. "And I take care of what's mine. You'll see, baby. This is better than any fancy college could ever be." His hand moves to rest on your stomach again, possessive and threatening all at once. "Our little family, together forever in Outer Banks. Just like it should be."
May we please have blurb of kook bully rafe bullying reader at the kook academy (he’s secretly in love with her making her sit on his lap at kook dinners and charity event) no one’s says anything bc they know Cameron’s own everything.Like even her parents know that he’s bullying her but they can’t anything about.Plus She’s like the nicest kook ever and helps around the island she like obx sweetheart.Friends with everyone she helps around the community and always giving ☺️☺️OR A FIC 😈
LAP OF LUXURY 𝜗𝜚
bully!rafe x sweetheart!kook!reader
WARNINGS: emotional manipulation, bullying, implied obsession/possessive behavior, toxic dynamics, non-consensual touching (e.g., sitting on lap, thigh touching), power imbalance, parental neglect/passivity, public humiliation, unhealthy romanticization, allusions to controlling behavior, subtle yandere vibes
you try not to flinch when he pulls out the chair next to him at the founders' dinner.
loud enough that a few forks scrape plates. not loud enough that anyone does anything.
"sit." one word, smug. like it’s a joke. like he’s daring you to tell him no in front of everyone. but you’re not stupid. this is rafe cameron.
and the camerons own everything.
your parents give you that look from down the table — the helpless one. the don't make a scene one. like you're supposed to be grateful he wants you near him at all.
so you sit.
rafe grins and pulls you right onto his lap.
you blink. "rafe—"
his hand is on your waist before you can move. his fingers drum against your ribs, casual, possessive. he leans into your ear like he’s whispering a joke, but there’s no smile in his voice.
"you were ignoring me all week, sweetheart. didn’t like that."
you weren’t. not really. you were just trying to exist. helping with the food drive. tutoring the younger kids. picking up trash after the storm. everyone says you’re too good for this town — too soft, too sweet, too nice.
you never said you were brave.
so you sit on his lap. you stir your water with your straw. his hand stays there.
“so good now,” he mutters under his breath, so only you can hear. “just needed some reminding, huh?”
you catch topper looking over. he smirks like he’s in on the joke. kelce mouths damn, like he’s surprised you didn’t squirm.
but no one says anything.
no one ever says anything.
not when he corners you in the hall and tugs your backpack open just to dump it.
not when he calls you sweetheart in front of the entire table like it’s an insult.
not when you show up to the charity gala in your mom’s old dress and he tugs you away from your friends to sit on his lap again, hand grazing your thigh under the table like it’s his right.
because rafe cameron can do anything. even ruin you.
and for some reason — maybe because he’s cruel, maybe because he’s in love with you in a sick twisted way — he always does it with that same lazy smirk.
“you look pretty tonight,” he says, brushing a crumb off your lip with his thumb. he doesn’t blink.
Hii! Can I do a request for JJ x kook reader who are in a secret relationship?
Love your work!
- Takes place in season one, when the pogues are searching for the gold. JJ started going to the reader when he needed to relax. Flash forward a couple months and she’s pregnant, and they are still keeping their relationship under wraps. When midsummers takes place, the reader obviously has to go due to her parents being pretty well known kooks on the island, and JJ so happens to be a waiter for the night. Keeping an eye on his girlfriend..
⋆˚꩜｡ pairing : pregnant!kook!reader x babydaddy!JJ MAYBANK.
⋆˚꩜｡synopsis : the req 🫶. ꒰ wc .ᐟ 1.7k꒱
⋆˚꩜｡warnings : discussion of alcohol, suggestiveness at the end, overall vry vry fluffy, and hints of protective!jj.
you hadn’t intended for everything with jj to turn into everything with jj. i mean, he’s pretty much the prince of the pogues, and you’re the kook princess; you guys aren’t meant to fit. even so, you do fit. quite well too. a bit too well, some might say: after however little time you’ve been messing around with each other, you’re pregnant. not very — the bump’s barely formed — but even so you are.
you’re also currently at midsummers — not exactly by choice; your parents forced you to attend — trying to explain away why you’re not drinking anything to your friends, and coming up with the shitty excuse of ‘i’m not in the mood.’ surprisingly, jj’s also at midsummers, serving drinks to old kook’s and some of his sworn enemies; you swear he came just to keep an eye on you. even though no one really knows about the two of you yet, every time he walks by with the little tray with a sex on the beach or a malt whiskey on the rocks, he winks at you and whispers something in your ear – your kook friends raise an eyebrow.
“ ‘sup mama, lemmie steal y’pretty ass away with me real quick, yeah?” jj hums, one large hand placing itself on your lower back to escort you through the sea of people. by this point of the night, the blonde’s been trying to properly whisk you away from the elvis presley playing on the dance floor, the salty ocean wind blowing your hair out of place so majestically you’ve got to be a witch, and the self-entitled rafe who’s been eyeing you all night, just to get a proper moment alone with his girl. you’re just as entertained by the idea, happy to leave the sickening fake conversation where your mother’s trying to chat you up to some sort of important business dude, perking up at the warmth pressing into you, and knowing exactly who it is: “jj!! You never told me, why’re you here?”
“what, you don’t wanna see the most handsome face on Kildare? don’t wanna see the father of your— our kid? you’re crushin’ my heart real hard over here, princess. speakin’ of, how’s my lil’ bean cookin’?” he asks, putting on an obviously faux kicked puppy look that still gets your heart in the feels — pregnancy hormones, am i right?
you turn on your heel when you reach the secluded area of the gazebo’s to the side — far enough for no one to notice the two of you; close enough to get dragged back in before your mother can freak out about where you’ve disappeared off to — taking in the effects of the fairy lights above you rocking in the wind and draping his already handsome features in an angelic glow. you gaze up at him, not realising the lovesick smile that curls your lips as you justify your earlier response: “c’mon jayj, you know it isn’t like that. ‘s jus’ y’know … you’re you. ‘n’ this is midsummers. didn’t think those two things would ever mix.”
“yeah well,” the blonde gets closer, crowding your personal space; you can only really focus on how intoxicating he smells — copious amounts of weed, dried salt water, sunblock, and cheap cologne — somehow he makes it work, “here we are. wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else on the planet but here with you, mama. maybe i wanna be high as shit – can’t deal with these prissy ass kooks but y’know how it is.”
you giggle, partially at the new pet-name he’s added to his pre-existing list, partially from nice his palms feel as grey lazily wrap around the back of your waist. he knows your body so well by now, he instinctively starts massaging small circles into where he knows the tensions been building up for the last couple weeks, courtesy to the pregnancy. “genuinely though, how’s the kid? ‘s broski cookin’ alright in there?”
“broski? you actually callin’ our kid broski?” you question, tilting your head and raising an eyebrow at the choice of name. jj just shrugs and plasters on that annoyingly hot smirk, explaining away his choice of vocab: “well we don’t know ‘s gender yet, right? thought i might mix ‘n’ match some different nicknames ‘til we do, y’know? sorta feel out the waters.”
“whatever you say. also, broski’s been alright,” you reply, giggling when he praises you with a gentle ‘yeahhh now she’s gettin’ it’. his hands instinctively squeeze at the flesh around your waist at the sound – tell no one how whipped he is – and he does it once more when you start to complain playfully: “minus the morning sickness that’s making me wanna throw up every two seconds. isn’t it menta be morning sickness?? plus sarah’s confused as fuck ‘bout why i haven’t drunk in like two months, ‘specially here, since she’s only making it through the night with vodka.”
“yep, ‘s fair. kooks are every shitty thing under the sun, ain’t they lil’ feats?” his hands snake around from your back to instead palm gently at your stomach, his ocean-blue gaze drifting from your own to where you’re literally growing life inside. for what it’s worth, jj looks totally entranced by it, regardless of how he’s essentially just insulted you and your entire family.
the blonde glances back up to where you’ve tilted your head to the side, adoring a pissy little scowl at his words which only curls his own lip into a smirk. his thumb dips softly into the fabric of your dress and flesh, right as he leans down again and gets even more up in your face even more than previously. his nose nudges yours; some strands of golden, sun-damaged hair brushing against your skin.
“course, i all ‘em kooks other than your beautiful, beautiful,” he leaves a gentle peck on your lips, instantly removing the dismay he’d caused with his earlier words before continuing, “mama. she’s a lil’ thing we call perfect.”
“real smooth deflection jay. don’t want you sayin’ that to the kid when they’re born, okay?,” you hum, bringing your own hands to snake around your boyfriends neck, pulling him into a proper kiss – he’s smirking against your lips, basking in the attention. but of course he’s got to ruin the momentary peace, pressing his hands against the fat just under your thighs and charmfully muttering: “bean’s gonna learn the truth anyways mama, why not just get a head start on it: makes the most sense, don’tcha think?
his fingers flex over your skin, a low hum leaving past his lips as he dips his lips back down to meet yours with a dizzying sort of haze that makes your mind go blank. his tongue explores your mouth – as if he hasn’t got the feeling of your whole body committed to memory by now. then you’re reminded of the time, place, and how many people could just walk over and out your entire relationship with the pogue prince.
“jj, c’mon. we gotta go back before they get suspicious–“
“whyyyy? c’monnnn, why we gotta go back to everyone when we can jus’ have each other? i prefer you over ‘em real kooky kooks anyways,” he whines, pressing his slick-with-spit lips across your jaw and already beginning to move down your neck. you can’t help but curl your fingers into his hair, and flutter your lids shut at the sensation – damn he knows how to get you to turn to mush in seconds.
“im fully aware jj, dont worry. please, we gotta go—“
“but you smell so niceeee,” he hums, lifting his lips off of your neck for just a beat before dipping them right back down, “my hands belong ‘round you, mama,” his palms press into your skin, squeezing the flesh as he adds one final comment: “ ‘n’ my dick got hard the second i saw you in that dress; can’t we spare like— five minutes?”
“five minutes is what got us in this situation in the first place,” you giggle, tugging gently at the hairs on the back of the blonde’s head. it’s unnecessary, since he leaned back at that final comment, a sort of incredulous disbelief mixed with a neediness – he’s going to pounce on you when you’re home – flooding behind those eyes. “okay maybe a bit more but c’mon! sarah’s gonna sniff us out; you want her to find us out?”
“fine, fine, whatever y’say mama. jus’ ‘cuz you’re so pretty,” he groans, unravelling his hands from your body and letting you guide him back towards the buzzing of elvis presley playing on the dance floor, the salty ocean wind blowing your hair out of place so majestically you’ve got to be a witch, and the self-entitled rafe who’s been still going to eye you all night – for the next few hours, you’re getting berated by him about why you smiled at jj as he walked by again in another fifteen minutes.
for the rest of midsummers, you can feel your blonde boyfriend’s gaze on you, watching you drink a glass of water instead of bubbling champagne, and telling topper you haven’t seen sarah – you totally saw john b and the girl disappear into the gazebo you’d gone with jj to. you feel his hand slip around your waist as he murmurs some sort of excuse similar to “my bad kook princess, jus’ gotta get through here,” before any of your friends can even realise he’s got his hand around you in the first place. he glares at a random boy your mother introduces to you – she explains how he ‘comes from a good family’; you roll your eyes and giggle at the scowl on your secret boyfriends face across the room.
possibly the one thing no one would really care about, but it means the world to you: how he pulls you away for a rushed hug and goodbye before he makes a scene – he definitely only called rose ‘lady liberty’ to hear you chuckle from the side-lines – and leaves with the pogues to fuck knows where, disappearing into the darkness, laughing with his best friends.
ᯓ★ a / n : kinda let this one get away from me lol :3. i fear u wanted something a bit different ( specifically around protective!jj ?? ) n i do have a fic around that coming sooonnnn !
