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dirtytomatoedwrites · 5 months

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THE RESIGNATION

Summary: You can quit. It doesn't mean Rafe will let you.

Paring: CEO!Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader

Strictly 18+ No Minors to Interact

Warnings: 18+ Smut. Oral (w receiving) Masturbation (w), Rough Sex, PIV, Creampie, Fluff, Romance with a dash of Angst. AgedUp!Rafe. Not Proof-Read. Enjoy.

Word Count: 2k words

Author's Note: Something a little shorter, lighter and sweet. Happy reading and much love to you all ❤️

Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Please don’t steal or copy bits of my writing or any writing from other writers cause karma will get ya.

-------

*Buzzzzzzzzz*

“Yes.”

“Y/N is here to see you.”

“Send her in.”

Rafe watches in fascination as you shuffle in, your face taut and serious. Your eyes cast downward, clutching a file. As you tuck an unruly strand of hair behind your ear, he realizes you're nervous. The tension, his silence, makes you even more anxious.

“Sit,” he instructs, motioning to the chair across his desk. Meanwhile, he keeps his gaze on his papers. He continues to read and leisurely sign forms. Yet, he can distinctly feel your eyes on him, both of you fully aware of the meeting's purpose.

For Rafe, the dynamics at play are exhilarating. After finishing his tasks, he lifts his eyes to find you focused on your file, seemingly avoiding his gaze.

He unbuttons his suit jacket and leans back, his fingers drum lightly on the fine-crafted letter in front of him. The paper carries a soft hint of perfume. It smells like you.

There's a part of him that wishes to be cruel, to use biting words he's often used with others in his employ. Yet something about you prevents him. The game of power was always in his favor, but with you, the boundaries become ambiguous, shifting in unexpected ways. With you, it's always been personal.

“Why didn't you tell me you were unhappy?” he asks. His tone is calm, yet probing. You seem taken aback, eyes widening as they search his face.

He decides to try another approach. “It's clear to me now,” he points to your letter of resignation. “You were unhappy at Cameron Enterprises. How long have you felt this way?”

Your surprise is palpable, and he watches you closely, enjoying the tapestry of emotions that flash across your face, each one more captivating than the last.

“Well?” he prods.

You shift, straightening your back. “I am grateful for my time at Cameron Enterprises. Truly I am. The team has been so kind to me, and I'll honestly cherish the friends I've made—”

“But?” he asks, cutting you off, eager to understand.

“But, I believe it's time for me to pursue other opportunities,” you admit, measuring your words. You slowly nod your head, as though you have thought this whole thing out, and now you are not only resolved with the thought but you truly believe it. It’s this sureness, this resolution, that truly makes Rafe react.

“I see,” Rafe says as he presses a button, making the office walls turn opaque. "So, you think you've outgrown us."

“No—”

"No?" he interrupts, rising from behind his desk and walking slowly toward you.

"No. I just- I feel it's time for me to try something... new.”

"Something new," he repeats, his gaze lowers to meet yours while you look up at him. His eyes scrutinize you carefully. “I respect that,” he nods, and as you avert your gaze, he gently hooks your chin with his fingers, prompting you to look him in the eye.

“No, really. I do. What's the point of life if not to grow, right? But let me be crystal clear: leaving here is not an option. So, here's what I'm willing to offer," his voice is as smooth as honey as his thumb strokes your jaw. "First, a five percent raise. But seeing as you’re already on one of the highest salaries here, I suspect that won't really sway you. You’ll also be given a new title.”

"Raf—"

"And to sweeten the deal," Rafe interrupts, "a vacation to any destination you want. You'll be whisked away on the company jet, stay at a five-star, luxury hotel—every need pampered and taken care of. I'll see to that, and we'll get to that, but here's the thing—" he whispers, his voice low and seductive.

"You embarrassed me today—ah, ah, I'm talking," he asserts, his eyes commanding yours into silence. "If it were anyone else, anyone else, no one would have noticed or given a flying fuck. But since it’s you, your little resignation created a lot of gossip. It made us look weak, hinted at instability, and in a Fortune 500 company, that's not going to work. Do you think the board cares about your need to ‘try something new'? Hm," his gaze is drawn to your mouth as you clamp it shut.

"So for those reasons, I'm going to punish you,”he says, while his thumb gently taps your chin. "But how to punish you...” he muses. “That’s the real question.”

Pulling away, he slides his hands into his pockets and, after taking a few steps back, leans against his desk.

"Rafe, you know I was just— I mean I wasn’t trying to—”

"Spare me, all right? I'm not interested in hearing what you have to say. Not right now. What I want..." he said slowly as he tapped a finger to his chest "What I want, is for you to open your legs, yeah? That's what I want."

You're shocked — he gathers as much from the way you gulp, and Rafe can't help but let a smirk of self-satisfaction curl his lips.

"Don't look so surprised. You knew what working for me entailed when you agreed to it. Now, spread your legs. Let me see what I'm shelling out nearly half a mil for."

"Rafe, I… I" you murmur.

Crossing his arms, his gaze locks onto yours signalling the end of the discussion. Hesitantly, and with much caution, you eventually slide your legs apart, your skirt riding up ever so slightly.

"Wider," Rafe commands, "Lean back and open them wider."

Breathing heavily, you do as he asks. Leaning back against the chair, you spread your legs open fully, causing your skirt to ride up to your waist, revealing your panty-covered sex. The damp patch, dark against the bright red fabric teases him.

"Pull your panties to the side. Let me see how wet you are.” he whispers silkily.

You turn your head away shyly but eventually you hook a finger into the fabric and pull it aside, exposing your slick wet folds to his ravenous gaze.

Rafe smiles in approval.

"That's good." he purrs, "Now, touch yourself. That pussy looks like it needs a good fingering " his voice rumbles with authority as his gaze flickers from your face to your exposed weeping slit. You hesitate, breathing heavily while trying to form a protest.

"I… I'm not—"

"Do it," he interrupts firmly.

You hesitate for a few moments, but eventually obey by pushing a finger into your dripping sex. A moan escapes your lips when Rafe lets out a deep groan as encouragement. Your hesitation seems to disappear and you push another finger in.

"Fuck," he hisses. "Add another. I know you can handle it."

You nod slowly and introduce a third, while the middle finger of your other hand gently rub your clit. Sinking into the sensation you open your legs wider for more access, your fingers moving hard and fast.

Rafe groans in protest. “Go slow...This isn’t for you. It’s about what I want, and what I want is for you to tease yourself. You're not allowed to cum. Not yet. Not until I say.”

You whimper but follow his command. You slow your speed til it's teasing almost leisurely and Rafe soaks it all in. The jolts of pleasure that have you mewling, the way your chest rises and fall, breathless, desperate. The way you curl your fingers just enough to make you gasp. It's incredible to watch and as your hips begin to buck against your massaging fingers, Rafe finds himself looming over you, taking in the sight of your ecstasy-filled face and finger-stuffed pussy.

He leans in and kisses you. His tongue lashes yours, tasting your moans and desperation. He pulls away, eyes back on your wet centre, focused on your fingers moving in and out, accompanied by the sweet wet sounds it makes and your hips rising from the chair.

"Go on, make that pussy cum." he orders. In no time, your orgasm washes over you. He can see it build from your core as you shudder and your thighs shake, your breath hitches fighting to stave it off and then it radiates out from the depths of your soul in a moan of pure ecstasy.

Before you can catch your breath, Rafe pushes your hand away and laps at your essence with his tongue. His hands on the back of your knees, push your legs right to your chest, keeping it wide open as he tongue fucks you.

Eating you out was always an appetizer he savored, making sure you had cum at least twice from his efforts, but right now, with his blood boiling with anger and frustration, he's famished and desperate for the main course.

Urgently, he undoes his slacks and lifts your legs even higher, pinning your ankles above your head with one hand. Without giving you time to adjust, he smears his cock with your slick and plunges deep into your tight heat, pressing you into the chair with his body weight as he begins to pound you.

It's a painful position, and he's acutely aware of that. It's deep and aggressively forceful, the type of position that should be approached with care, or ease you gently into it. But right now, it's not about you. Right now he's too riled up to care and so he fucks you without remorse or restraint, reducing you to nothing more than a fuck toy- his fuck toy spurred on by the delicious moans that escape your parted lips.

Your hands cling to the armrests for dear life as you desperately try to maintain your balance. Rafe continues to force his hips to meet the back of your thighs, taking pleasure in your inability to move while he plows you deep. You whimper, desperate to escape his grip, but it does nothing to deter him. Instead, he revels in your struggle, knowing that your lack of control will only intensify his orgasm and your own.

"You want to quit..." Rafe sneers. He watches you whimper and feels your pussy tighten like a vice, while simultaneously soaking the front of his slacks. It makes him feral and he redoubles his efforts, fucking you into the chair until it starts to scrape against the cherry-oak floor.

"You want to quit on me?" he strains, while he observes ecstasy wash over your face, your eyes roll back in a pleasure-filled awe. With one hand, he gently taps your cheek to keep you focused.

"You wanna quit on me? Huh?” And he leans in further, his cock repeatedly hits a spot so deep you’re shaking, babbling and barely coherent.

“You're not going anywhere. Not now, not ever," he grunts, "Now fucking cum. Fucking cum.” His ruthless demand pushes you higher until all inhibitions are obliterated. You scream out in surrender, bucking up onto his plundering cock while Rafe releases a guttural moan, filling you with ribbon after ribbon of thick cum.

Several minutes have passed when his movements gradually stops, signaling the ebbing of his energy. He's exhausted, his fervor having reached its climatic end. He pulls out, his balance wavering slightly until his back meets the glass desk behind him. A contented exhale escapes his lips as he takes in the sight of you.

There you are, looking thoroughly fucked out. Your legs are splayed open, a sheen of sweat glistens on your skin, reflecting the aftermath of passion. His cum slowly leaks out of you and you wear it like a carnal badge of honor. Observing your state, he’s acutely aware that his own appearance mirrors yours—fucked out and messy. His clothes is in disarray, his cock is hanging out and physical exhaustion makes his body seek support against the table.

Despite the disheveled scene, a wave of affection swells within him, washing over any remnants of his earlier anger. His chest heaves as he gulps in air, attempting to control his breathing.

"You're lucky I love you," he manages to say, each word punctuated by his effort to recover. His gaze locks onto yours, intense yet softened by the rush of emotions. "No one else has this infuriating, intoxicating effect on me. You drive me to the brink and back," he adds, a playful seriousness lacing his tone as he licks his lips. "For that little stunt, I should fire you," he teases.

Your fingers glide through the cum dripping from your sex, and Rafe can't suppress a sense of pride. He always takes pride in the chaos he creates, especially when you revel in it.

"I've been trying to talk to you, but you've been so distracted lately, you haven't been listening" you sigh, as you try to catch your breath. "What else was I supposed to do to get your attention? Hand me some tissues, will you?"

He pauses, his eyes narrowing as he digests your words, then reaches with a trembling hand for the tissue box on his desk. "When? When did you try to talk to me and I wasn't listening?" he asks. He takes a clump of tissues and hands them to you.

"This morning at breakfast, and last night during dinner. I barely started speaking before you turned the conversation back to contractors and deadlines and even when I gave you a solution, not just one Rafe but two- two concrete solutions you ignored me. It was like I wasn't even there. It's not the first time." you explain, accepting the tissues from him.

"I didn't realize—"

"You did," you interrupt, ensuring your eyes stay fixed on his to underline your statement. "Why do you think I kept singing the song about wanting to make some changes, wanting to try something new. I've been saying it for weeks on and off because this is clearly not working."

“I thought you were talking about remodeling the offices, not resigning from the company. It's a family business—how would it look if my wife quits?" His voice carries a hint of concern, not just for the optics but for the unspoken bond that this business represents between the two of you.

A soft sigh escapes you as you lock eyes with him, a delicate blend of frustration and affection. "Rafe, I don't want to walk away from this," you admit "But I need more than just a title and a desk. I need to feel heard, to be part of this with you, not just in name because I'm married to a Cameron. I want to be a part of the decisions and changes we dare to dream up together."

Rafe's eyes hold yours, a moment of realization dawning upon him. "I see you," he says quietly, the weight of his oversight apparent in his tone. "I'm sorry I wasn't listening. Do you really want to leave? Is that what you truly want?"

His question, earnest and laced with vulnerability, hangs between you, but you shake your head gently. "No, I don't want to leave, Rafe. I just want... more. More involvement, more acknowledgment, and yes, maybe even a little more attention. But leaving? No. This place, with all its madness, is where I belong."

He exhales, the relief evident in the way his shoulders drop slightly, the rigid line of worry softening around his eyes. "Thank fuck for that," he says with a hushed intensity. "Because I can't imagine doing any of this without you. But let's agree on no more 'resignation stunts' in the future, yeah? It's bad press and only makes for bad business—besides, I doubt my heart can take it."

You nod, agreeing, a mischievous glint in your eye as if to say you’ll find another effective way to get right under his skin, because in the end you always do. “Fine. But for the record, I do have some ideas for my office too."

He laughed, the sound rich and warm, and he pulled you into a messy, loving kiss. "We'll discuss it at home, Mrs. Cameron. For now, let's get you cleaned up, yeah?"

"Speak for yourself. You're the one with your dick hanging out."

With a shared laugh and a sweaty kiss, you both begin the task of putting the office—and yourselves—back together, the line between professional and personal wonderfully blurred.

--------------

A/N - See guys I can do sweet 😈 I tried to keep the reveal until the end shhhh 🤭 Thanks for reading x If you enjoyed it please reblog as it supports writers. Until next time ❤️

#timezone reblog #18+ read #rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe smut #rafe fic #outer banks rafe

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dirtytomatoedwrites · 5 months

Note

miss girl we NEED part 4 of preludes and nocturnes😫

looool WHO IS THIS!!!! I wanna squeeze ya!! 😝 Pumpkin I am writing as fast as I can but I also want to do a good job for you and the other babes that read it so it's taking me a bit of time but it will be worth it. I promise. Anddd did ya see the dark fic won so I'mma have to drop that hot mess first and then Preludes. I love you tho. Thank you so much for the comment it made me lol ❤️❤️

#dirtytomatoedreplies

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dirtytomatoedwrites · 5 months

Photo

#dirtytomatoedgifs

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dirtytomatoedwrites · 5 months

Text

Next Rafe Fic

Hello my loves! I'm working on some oneshot Rafe stories. But I'm wondering where I should put my concentration can you help a girl decide.

#dirtytomatoedpolls

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dirtytomatoedwrites · 5 months

Text

Omgosh darling thank you for the lovely comment. Everything you've noted is spot on it's like you're always reading my mind even down to the things I don't think ppl would necessarily notice ❤️❤️.

I love a ruthless Rafe - when he's just determine to have his way. Ugh so hotttt and I really wanted to to get that sweetness in the end across because there's nothing sexier when Rafe is soft for his girl. *squee*

I'm really glad you enjoyed it. Like it makes me super happy and thank you for taking the time to reblog and comment. Much love to you my darling xoxox

THE RESIGNATION

Summary: You can quit. It doesn't mean Rafe will let you.

Paring: CEO!Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader

Strictly 18+ No Minors to Interact

Warnings: 18+ Smut. Oral (w receiving) Fingering, Rough Sex, PIV, Fluff, Romance with a dash of Angst. AgedUp!Rafe. Not Proof-Read. Enjoy.

Word Count: 2k words

Author's Note: Something a little shorter, lighter and sweet. Happy reading and much love to you all ❤️

Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Please don’t steal or copy bits of my writing or any writing from other writers cause karma will get ya.

-------

*Buzzzzzzzzz*

“Yes.”

“Y/N is here to see you.”

“Send her in.”

For Rafe, the dynamics at play are exhilarating. After finishing his tasks, he lifts his eyes to find you focused on your file, seemingly avoiding his gaze.

He unbuttons his suit jacket and leans back, his fingers drum lightly on the fine-crafted letter in front of him. The paper carries a soft hint of perfume. It smells like you.

“Why didn't you tell me you were unhappy?” he asks. His tone is calm, yet probing. You seem taken aback, eyes widening as they search his face.

He decides to try another approach. “It's clear to me now,” he points to your letter of resignation. “You were unhappy at Cameron Enterprises. How long have you felt this way?”

Your surprise is palpable, and he watches you closely, enjoying the tapestry of emotions that flash across your face, each one more captivating than the last.

“Well?” he prods.

You shift, straightening your back. “I am grateful for my time at Cameron Enterprises. Truly I am. The team has been so kind to me, and I'll honestly cherish the friends I've made—”

“But?” he asks, cutting you off, eager to understand.

“I see,” Rafe says as he presses a button, making the office walls turn opaque. "So, you think you've outgrown us."

“No—”

"No?" he interrupts, rising from behind his desk and walking slowly toward you.

"No. I just- I feel it's time for me to try something... new.”

"Raf—"

"You embarrassed me today—ah, ah, I'm talking," he asserts, his eyes commanding yours into silence. "If it were anyone else, anyone else, no one would have noticed or given a flying fuck. But since it’s you, your little resignation created a lot of gossip. It made us look weak, hinted at instability, and in a Fortune 500 company, that's not going to work. Do you think the board cares about your need to ‘try something new'? Hm," His gaze is drawn to your mouth as you clamped it shut.

"So for those reasons, I'm going to punish you,”he says, while his thumb gently taps your chin. "But how to punish you...” he muses. “That’s the real question.”

Pulling away, he slides his hands into his pockets and, after taking a few steps back, leans against his desk.

"Rafe, you know I was just— I mean I wasn’t trying to—”

You're shocked — he gathers as much from the way you gulp, and Rafe can't help but let a smirk of self-satisfaction curl his lips.

"Don't look so surprised. You knew what working for me entailed when you agreed to it. Now, spread your legs. Let me see what I'm shelling out nearly half a mil for."

"Rafe, I… I" you murmur.

Crossing his arms, his gaze locks onto yours signalling the end of the discussion. Hesitantly, and with much caution, you eventually slide your legs apart, your skirt riding up ever so slightly.

"Wider," Rafe commands, "Lean back and open them wider."

"Pull your panties to the side. Let me see how wet you are.” he whispers silkily.

You turn your head away shyly but eventually you hook a finger into the fabric and pull it aside, exposing your slick wet folds to his ravenous gaze.

Rafe smiles in approval.

"I… I'm not—"

"Do it," he interrupts firmly.

"Fuck," he hisses. "Add another. I know you can handle it."

Rafe groans in protest. “Go slow...This isn’t for you. It’s about what I want, and what I want is for you to tease yourself. You're not allowed to cum. Not yet. Not until I say.”

Your hands cling to the armrests for dear life as you desperately try to maintain your balance. Rafe continues to force his hips to meet your thighs, taking pleasure in your inability to move. You whimper, desperate to escape his grip, but it does nothing to deter him. Instead, he revels in your struggle, knowing that your lack of control will only intensify his orgasm and your own.

"You want to quit on me?" he strains, while he observes ecstasy wash over your face, your eyes roll back in a pleasure-filled awe. With one hand, he gently taps your cheek to keep you focused.

"You wanna quit on me? Huh?” And he leans in further, his cock repeatedly hits a spot so deep you’re shaking, babbling and barely coherent.

Despite the disheveled scene, a wave of affection swells within him, washing over any remnants of his earlier anger. His chest heaves as he gulps in air, attempting to control his breathing.

Your fingers glide through the cum dripping from your sex, and Rafe can't suppress a sense of pride. He always takes pride in the chaos he creates, especially when you revel in it.

He pauses, his eyes narrowing as he digests your words, then reaches with trembling hands for the tissue box on his desk. "When? When did you try to talk to me and I wasn't listening?" he asks. He takes a clump of tissues and hands them to you.

"I didn't realize—"

"You did," you interrupt, ensuring your eyes stay fixed on his to underline your statement. "So yes, I said I wanted to make some changes, I said I wanted to try something new, because this is clearly not working."

A soft sigh escapes you as you lock eyes with him, a delicate blend of frustration and affection. "Rafe, I don't want to walk away from this," you admit "But I need more than just a title and a desk. I need to feel heard, to be part of this with you, not just in name but in every decision and change we dare to dream up together."

He laughed, the sound rich and warm, and he pulled you into a messy, loving kiss. "We'll discuss it at home, Mrs. Cameron. For now, let's get you cleaned up, yeah?"

"Speak for yourself. You're the one with your dick hanging out."

With a shared laugh and a sweaty kiss, you both begin the task of putting the office—and yourselves—back together, the line between professional and personal wonderfully blurred.

--------------

A/N - See guys I can do sweet 😈 I tried to keep the reveal until the end shhhh 🤭 Thanks for reading x If you enjoyed it please reblog/like/drop a comment it's appreciated. Until next time ❤️

#dirtytomatoedreplys

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dirtytomatoedwrites · 6 months

Text

PRELUDES & NOCTURNES - MASTERLIST

Rafe discovers your hidden talent and now he has seen it, you have his full attention.

Warnings: Strictly 18+ No Minors to Interact

Dark!Rafe. Virgin!Reader. Romance, Angst, Dub-Con, Graphic Scenes / Smut.

Part 1 - Overture

Part 2 - Sonata

Part 3 - Adagio

MORE COMING SOON

#timezone reblog #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x you #18+ read #rafe fanfiction #rafe imagine

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dirtytomatoedwrites · 6 months

Text

THE RESIGNATION

Summary: You can quit. It doesn't mean Rafe will let you.

Paring: CEO!Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader

Strictly 18+ No Minors to Interact

Warnings: 18+ Smut. Oral (w receiving) Masturbation (w), Rough Sex, PIV, Creampie, Fluff, Romance with a dash of Angst. AgedUp!Rafe. Not Proof-Read. Enjoy.

Word Count: 2k words

Author's Note: Something a little shorter, lighter and sweet. Happy reading and much love to you all ❤️

Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Please don’t steal or copy bits of my writing or any writing from other writers cause karma will get ya.

-------

*Buzzzzzzzzz*

“Yes.”

“Y/N is here to see you.”

“Send her in.”

For Rafe, the dynamics at play are exhilarating. After finishing his tasks, he lifts his eyes to find you focused on your file, seemingly avoiding his gaze.

He unbuttons his suit jacket and leans back, his fingers drum lightly on the fine-crafted letter in front of him. The paper carries a soft hint of perfume. It smells like you.

“Why didn't you tell me you were unhappy?” he asks. His tone is calm, yet probing. You seem taken aback, eyes widening as they search his face.

He decides to try another approach. “It's clear to me now,” he points to your letter of resignation. “You were unhappy at Cameron Enterprises. How long have you felt this way?”

Your surprise is palpable, and he watches you closely, enjoying the tapestry of emotions that flash across your face, each one more captivating than the last.

“Well?” he prods.

You shift, straightening your back. “I am grateful for my time at Cameron Enterprises. Truly I am. The team has been so kind to me, and I'll honestly cherish the friends I've made—”

“But?” he asks, cutting you off, eager to understand.

“I see,” Rafe says as he presses a button, making the office walls turn opaque. "So, you think you've outgrown us."

“No—”

"No?" he interrupts, rising from behind his desk and walking slowly toward you.

"No. I just- I feel it's time for me to try something... new.”

"Raf—"

"So for those reasons, I'm going to punish you,”he says, while his thumb gently taps your chin. "But how to punish you...” he muses. “That’s the real question.”

Pulling away, he slides his hands into his pockets and, after taking a few steps back, leans against his desk.

"Rafe, you know I was just— I mean I wasn’t trying to—”

You're shocked — he gathers as much from the way you gulp, and Rafe can't help but let a smirk of self-satisfaction curl his lips.

"Don't look so surprised. You knew what working for me entailed when you agreed to it. Now, spread your legs. Let me see what I'm shelling out nearly half a mil for."

"Rafe, I… I" you murmur.

Crossing his arms, his gaze locks onto yours signalling the end of the discussion. Hesitantly, and with much caution, you eventually slide your legs apart, your skirt riding up ever so slightly.

"Wider," Rafe commands, "Lean back and open them wider."

"Pull your panties to the side. Let me see how wet you are.” he whispers silkily.

You turn your head away shyly but eventually you hook a finger into the fabric and pull it aside, exposing your slick wet folds to his ravenous gaze.

Rafe smiles in approval.

"I… I'm not—"

"Do it," he interrupts firmly.

"Fuck," he hisses. "Add another. I know you can handle it."

Rafe groans in protest. “Go slow...This isn’t for you. It’s about what I want, and what I want is for you to tease yourself. You're not allowed to cum. Not yet. Not until I say.”

Your hands cling to the armrests for dear life as you desperately try to maintain your balance. Rafe continues to slam his hips against the back of your thighs, taking pleasure in your inability to move while he plows you deep. You whimper, desperate to escape his grip, but it does nothing to deter him. Instead, he revels in your struggle, knowing that your lack of control will only intensify his orgasm and your own.

"You want to quit on me?" he strains, while he observes ecstasy wash over your face, your eyes roll back in a pleasure-filled awe. With one hand, he gently taps your cheek to keep you focused.

"You wanna quit on me? Huh?” And he leans in further, his cock repeatedly hits a spot so deep you’re shaking, babbling and barely coherent.

Despite the disheveled scene, a wave of affection swells within him, washing over any remnants of his earlier anger. His chest heaves as he gulps in air, attempting to control his breathing.

Your fingers glide through the cum dripping from your sex, and Rafe can't suppress a sense of pride. He always takes pride in the chaos he creates, especially when you revel in it.

"I didn't realize—"

He laughed, the sound rich and warm, and he pulled you into a messy, loving kiss. "We'll discuss it at home, Mrs. Cameron. For now, let's get you cleaned up, yeah?"

"Speak for yourself. You're the one with your dick hanging out."

With a shared laugh and a sweaty kiss, you both begin the task of putting the office—and yourselves—back together, the line between professional and personal wonderfully blurred.

--------------

A/N - See guys I can do sweet 😈 I tried to keep the reveal until the end shhhh 🤭 Thanks for reading x If you enjoyed it please reblog as it supports writers. Until next time ❤️

2K notes · View notes

dirtytomatoedwrites · 6 months

Text

ONLY HUMAN

Summary: Changes are happening. Rafe can feel it.

Paring: Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader

Strictly 18+ No Minors to Interact

Warnings: Dark!Rafe, Dub-Con/Non-Con, "Blood-Drinking", Character Death, Smut, Horror.

Word Count: 2k words

Author's Note: Wanted to contribute to Kintober but also wanted to experiment with how and what I write. Hope you enjoy and Happy Halloween 😈

Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Please don’t steal or copy bits of my writing or any writing from other writers cause karma will get ya.

It was the headaches that first hinted something was wrong.

Not just mild, fleeting headaches, but relentless migraines. They were excruciating, bouts of pain that seemed to originate from deep within his skull, right behind his eyes and radiating outwards in waves.

They were accompanied by disturbing visual auras—shimmering zigzags of light that swirled around his field of vision, making the world seem fractured and broken. He couldn't help but wonder if something sinister was taking root—something malignant, something deadly.

Over-the-counter pain pills and the heavy prescribed meds from his dad’s bathroom cabinet didn’t help. Being exposed to sunlight only made things worse; once a source of warmth, now felt like molten fire, forcing him to wear his sunglasses indoors. But after a while even that didn't work.

The only respite came when he submerged himself in utter darkness. And so his days became isolated, cocooned within the confines of his bedroom. The thick, heavy curtains drawn creating a sanctuary from the glaring sunlight that now felt like an enemy.

Cloaked in this artificial night, he clung to the few comforts that remained: scrolling through his Instagram feed to stay connected with friends. But even their mundane accomplishments made him feel worse, knowing the world carried on—while his was standing still.

Topper boasted about his championship win and how his dad was lending him the family boat to celebrate. Kelce posted pictures of himself at the golf club, scoring a suspiciously low 90. And then there was you. Sweet you. Pretty you.

“When did you get a puppy?”

He clicked on the video, showing you cradling the little fur ball. Despite the pain, a chuckle escaped Rafe's lips.

Ah, so it wasn’t your pup after all but a friend’s, he mused. He watched as you gently petted and cooed at it, your voice a calming balm soothed even his anxiety while his gaze drank in your contented features slowly, lingering just a tad too long on your eyes and lips.

Clearing his throat Rafe clicked off the vid.

RAFE- Yo can you guys quit posting this shit? You know I'm dying over here. Don't need to feel like killing myself too.

The boys' "lols" and your kiss and hug emojis, along with well-wishes, made him smile, giving him a glimmer of hope. "It'll pass in a few days," Topper responded. "Migraines can't last forever. You'll be up and about soon," you assured. And for a brief moment, Rafe believed it.

But then, the loss of appetite hit him.

Food suddenly didn't have the same appeal anymore, not after the headaches started. Bland, tasteless, gagging on his favorite meal—the texture of food itself seemed off somehow, like it wasn't going down quite right, like it wouldn't clear his throat when he swallowed it. And if the terrible texture wasn't bad enough, it tasted like it wasn't made for human consumption. Every bite seemed artificial, a blend of plastics and chemicals.

Drinking water only seemed to make things worse—every sip led to a lurching of his stomach, a violent uprising of nausea that ended with him hunched over the toilet, retching, even when it seemed there was nothing left.

Enough was enough.

He decided to video call Dr. Morris.

"Were you able to take your temperature recently?" She asked as she scribbled down his list of symptoms.

Rafe touched a hand to his forehead. "Yeah, it’s pretty normal. Checked it this morning; it was 98.6, or maybe just a touch below."

"Alright..." Dr. Morris murmured as she scribbled notes. "And the headaches, did they appear with the eye changes?"

"Eye changes? What changes?"

Dr. Morris gave a short laugh as if he was pulling her leg but stopped immediately when he didn't laugh with her. "There's discolouration around the edge," she said, her finger making a circle near her own pupil. "It's crimson. Haven't you noticed the color change?"

Rafe leaned closer to the screen, trying to see the reflection of his own eyes. They did seem different—possibly a bit darker around the edges? It was hard to tell in the dim light.

"I haven't noticed—no offense, doc, but I've had other things on my mind," he replied tersely. "So, what's wrong with me?"

"These symptoms can indicate many things: the flu, food intolerance, a bacterial infection. We'll need to run tests. But given your age and lifestyle, I suspect it's just a bug. I'll refer you to Claire for a blood test appointment this week, and in the meantime, I'll prescribe something for nausea to help you keep food and fluids down."

"Alright... doc." he nodded with a sigh of relief "That sounds like a plan."

Time bore down upon Rafe, its weight an oppressive force that enveloped each passing moment, shrouded in the inescapable cocoon of artificial darkness. The world outside seemed distant, lost behind the heavy curtains drawn across the windows.

Confined within his dimly lit room, the persistent throb in his head wove a malevolent lullaby, blurring the boundary between reality and hallucination. The antinausea pills only dulled the edges of his suffering, allowing sips of water to stay down, while he managed to eat small morsels of food. But a hunger unlike anything he had ever experienced before clawed at him from deep within, a gnawing emptiness that defied satiation.

Amidst his despair, his Instagram feed served as his bridge to the outside world, a bittersweet reprieve. Travels, festivities, sporting events—brief snapshots of lives that captivated him as long as it took to scroll. Yet, within those fleeting glimpses, you shone distinctly. A light in the darkness. With a magnetic radiance, your digital presence seemed more real than the dim walls surrounding him. He found himself irresistibly drawn to you, toggling between your Instagram, TikTok, and Facebook, silently observing every aspect of your life.

You were his friend and yet, with each photo and video, you unveiled new layers he had never noticed before. Were you always this serene? This happy? Your laugh that infectious? Peace seemed to radiate from you. And he found himself wanting to understand its source. Your digital presence had become a double-edged sword—offering him solace at one moment and then amplifying his torment in the next.

And then one night, the comforting yet painful ritual of immersing himself in your virtual world was interrupted.

Rubbing his eyes, aching from the screen's glare, he decided to splash some water on his face. Entering the dimly lit bathroom, he was startled by his own reflection. Leaning closer to the mirror, his eyes just inches away from the glass, he scrutinized the change.

The crimson around his pupils had grown darker, more pronounced, and now covered most of his pupil.

But what scared him more was the pulsing pattern. Every heartbeat seemed to send ripples through the shade, expanding and contracting with his pulse as if it had a life of its own. As if it were connected to some deeper, more sinister force within him.

"What the fuck?"

Panic set in, and Rafe fumbled to switch on the brighter overhead lights, hoping that maybe the subtle light from the bathroom bulb was playing tricks on him.

But under the stark, unforgiving light, the reality became even clearer. His heart raced, matching the rhythm of the ominous pulsing in his eyes. It was as though something was alive in there. A parasite. A silent watcher buried deep within, looking back at him from the mirror.

And just as that thought gripped his mind, another thought intruded, one that wasn't his own.

SLEEP

A dark siren echoed through his consciousness, promising peace and tranquility if only he gave in.

SLEEP

Its voice dripped with honeyed sweetness, promising it would make it all better.

SLEEP

Rafe felt its presence, an intangible force that clouded his thoughts, pulling him down into an abyss of darkness. He wanted to resist, to fight back against the compulsion that demanded his obedience. But fatigue suddenly weighed heavily on his eyelids, and the false comfort of the voice was impossible to resist.

SLEEP

With trembling hands, Rafe switched off the bathroom light, the shadows immediately lengthening and merging into one great expanse of blackness.

SLEEP

Suddenly, his steps were heavy, as if sinking into quicksand, his mind numb and zombified as he trudged along. Exhaustion made it a struggle to even reach his bed, and when he finally collapsed onto it, heart pounding against his ribcage, he began to sob because he knew he was surrendering to the unknown.

You awaken with a jolt, your heart racing and your eyes darting wildly in the pitch black. The air in your bedroom feels thick, an ominous heaviness that chills you to the bone. Your bed, once a sanctuary of familiarity and safety, now seems alien and cold beneath you.

Something catches your attention—a subtle but undeniable weight at the foot of your bed.

With trepidation, you force yourself to look down, and sheer horror grips you.

There, bathed in the eerie glow of the moonlight, is Rafe—or at least what remains of him. His posture is slumped, defeated, his silhouette a mix of lost and predatory.

Your throat tightens, and a scream gets stuck within it, but before it can escape, Rafe's voice—eerie and unlike him—cuts through the silence. "I had to see you... it commanded me too."

In a supernatural blur, he's suddenly upon you, his weight oppressive and suffocating. His skin is sickly pale, drawn tight over gaunt cheekbones. But it's his eyes, blood-red radiating pure evil, that hold you captive.

His icy fingers glide over your face, every touch searing your skin like a brand, a mixture of tenderness and threat that has you trembling.

"You're scared," he rasps, his voice a deathly whisper. “I’ll make it so you’re not."

The moment your lips meet, everything fades—your perception of past, present, reality; memories; even the chilling dread that had consumed you. Suddenly you're floating in a void, a liminal space between desire and oblivion.

His lips are a potent elixir, and with every passing second they pull you deeper into a spellbound haze. Your body is electrified with the intensity of his embrace. Every inch of skin comes alive beneath his ice cold touch.

Every whisper of breath; moan; gasp emanating from your lips mingles with the steady beat of your pounding heart. Your thoughts evaporate like wisps of smoke as the kiss intensifies to lust that surpasses all understanding.

His fingers leave a trail of fire down your exposed torso, as his hands slip away your clothes and his own. You do not notice. You're too consumed by pleasure and need alone. The need to be taken. The need to be fucked.

Suddenly he's pushing inside you and moving against you with an impatient hunger, claiming you for himself until you become one entity with one pulse, one breath, one desire—to reach ecstasy together.

With an animalistic vigor, he thrusts into you again and again, faster and harder, each stroke more powerful than the last. Pleasure builds inside you until there are no boundaries between pain and pleasure, only bliss. Bliss consumes every fragment of your being, building into an orgasm so profound, so primal, mounting higher and higher until—

Cold fingers seize your chin, jerking your head to reveal the delicate skin of your neck. Your eyes widen as grotesque, razor-sharp fangs extend from Rafe's perfect white teeth.

With agonizing force, they snap onto your throat, synchronizing with the grinding of his hips, and the sudden, overwhelming orgasm that tears you into a million pieces. Your muscles convulse and quiver around his cock, while Rafe's grip on your shoulder tightens, anchoring you in place as he drinks deep.

"What's happening?" you choke, sensing your heartbeat slowing. Tears now cascade down your cheeks, mingling with the blood trickling from your collarbone, staining the once-pristine white bedsheets.

"Rafe... I'm scared," you whisper, your grip on his arm weakening as desperation fills your fading gaze.

A monstrous hunger gleams in Rafe's eyes as he briefly withdraws, crimson trailing from his lips. An unsettling vitality now surrounds him, no longer pale or sickly; he appears healthy and handsome, reminiscent of his former self – a picture of perfect health.

In a cruel mockery of tenderness, he raises your wrist to his mouth, his eyes gleaming with ravenous hunger. With savage grace, he sinks his bloodstained fangs into your vein.

The world seems to bleed into his mouth as your life force drains. Each beat of his heart grows louder, stronger, overpowering the diminishing rhythm of your own, which slows... slows... and finally fades into silence.

GIF by outerbankspov

HAPPY HALLOWEEN MY LOVES 🖤😈😘

--------------

Thanks for reading x If you enjoyed it please like/reblog/drop a comment would love to know what you think. Until next time ❤️

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dirtytomatoedwrites · 6 months

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Reminder

18+ means 18+, not “I’m 14 but I don’t get offended by your posts” or “I’m 16 but I’m mature for my age”

// If you’re a minor, get off my page, this isn’t for you //

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dirtytomatoedwrites · 7 months

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sometimes being out of the loop is self preservation

#dirtytomatoedthoughts

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dirtytomatoedwrites · 7 months

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#dirtytomatoedpics

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dirtytomatoedwrites · 7 months

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Love this soooo much! Toxicity and all 🧡💜💚

𝐓𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐨 (𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞'𝐬 𝐕𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧)

TATTOO | RAFE'S VERSION | IMAGINE |

PAIRING: Husband!Rafe Cameron x Reader

SYNOPSIS: Your Husband forces you to tattoo your hand since you're prone to loosing your rings.

WORD COUNT → 632

WARNING(S): Dark!Rafe Cameron, Wedding Day! Tattoos, Possessive!Rafe, Arranged Marriage, He now owns you.

AUTHORS NOTE: There is a soft!dark! JJ version here.

OUTERBANKS MASTERLIST

Y/N had never been fond of the engagement ring. It was a beautiful piece of jewelry, but it seemed to have a knack for escaping her finger at the most inconvenient times. Rafe Cameron, her soon-to-be-husband in this arranged marriage, had noticed this amusing tendency and decided to take matters into his own hands.

As the wedding day approached, Y/N anticipated the moment when she would receive a wedding band to replace her elusive engagement ring. However, Rafe had something entirely different in mind. He had arranged for a tattoo artist to be present at their wedding.

As the ceremony began and they reached the pivotal moment of exchanging rings, the tattoo artist stepped forward. Y/N's eyes widened in surprise and confusion as she realized what was about to happen. "Rafe," she snapped, her voice a mix of disbelief and frustration, "you cannot just tattoo me."

Rafe, never one to back down, simply smirked as the artist began the tattooing process on his finger. He admired his fresh ink and emphasized each word as he spoke, "You. Are. My. Wife."

The crowd, including Y/N's parents, watched in anticipation. They urged her to proceed with the unusual arrangement. Feeling the pressure and knowing that the ceremony had to continue, she reluctantly extended her hand for the artist to tattoo the wedding band.

Her eyes widened even further when she realized they were tattooing Rafe's initials, R.C., onto the back of her finger. "You're making them put your initials on me?" she exclaimed, a mix of astonishment and indignation in her voice.

Rafe maintained his smirk, explaining, "Well, people need to know that. If I can't trust you to wear a ring, I'll mark you myself for everyone to see."

Sighing in resignation, she looked at the finished work as the artist backed away. "This will complicate things if we ever get—" she began, but Rafe interrupted, his tone determined, "This may be an arranged marriage, sweetheart, but you're mine."

The priest declared the final words, "You may kiss the bride," and Rafe, grinning mischievously, sealed the vows with a kiss that left no doubt in anyone's mind that they were now bound together, tattoos and all.

#dirtytomatoedrecommends #not my writing #rafe cameron x reader #rafe fic #obx fanfic #obxfic #rafe cameron #rafe cameron fanfic

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dirtytomatoedwrites · 7 months

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Oh my babi thank you for the shoutout! There are so many fantastic writers on here I'm truly grateful to be among them. 🧡❤️🧡 Much love to you!!

FIC RECS PART TWO

some content contains mature and triggering content, please read all tags/warnings! MDNI!

part two of fics i’ve genuinely enjoyed on here! show these creators some love <3

i’ll add on to this list as i keep finding more stuff i enjoy<3 thank you to all of these creators for giving us AMAZING content <3

also.. i need more jj content in my life 😮‍💨

⇢ Rafe Cameron

finished assignments by @eventualoptimism

F&MU by @cleoluvrr

tis’ the damn season by @runningfrom2am

darling angel by @emmalandry

my clumsy girl by @voidcameron

i want you (with jj) by @sevenwivesofrafecameron

the summer i turned pretty by @barbiesanji

favourite crime by @vnusology

toxic (3 parter) by @rvfecamerons

somewhere between the lines by @angelshxt

sacrilege by @thecameronchronicles

ultraviolence by @barbiesanji

indebted by @dirtytomatoedwrites

viral by @maybanksbabe

untitled by @hischiershoe

tipsy by @rafeandonlyrafe

⇢ JJ Maybank

undercover by @voidcameron

better luck next time by @blueicequeen19

your eyes open by @voidcameron

i want you (with rafe) by @sevenwivesofrafecameron

this love (series) by @voidcameron

jj taking care of you while you’re sick by @voidcameron

⇢ Ward Cameron

ruined by @melting4maybank

#dirtytomatoedreplies #dirtytomatoedrecommends

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dirtytomatoedwrites · 7 months

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Omygoodness thank you my luv for the shoutout! You’re amazing and it’s appreciated 🧡💜💚

.here are some fics i love love love. i hope you enjoy them too.

.some of these contain dark, triggering, or sexual content! *minors do not interact*

.support these writers by reblogging if you like a fic.

Rafe Cameron

Preludes & Nocturnes - @dirtytomatoedwrites

NDA: fuck it, I love you - @r66dus

you're on your own, kid - @allsmilesreally7 *big SA trigger*

Enough - @xveenusx

Talk of the Town - @glutenfreepeach

Good Girl - @sugarcoatedstarkey

The Summer I Turned Pretty - @barbiesanji

Stargirl interlude - @r66dus

proper touch - @cleoluvrr

JJ Maybank

Touron - @blueicequeen19

Charter - @blueicequeen19

Bruises - @slut4drudy

John B's Girl - @harrysloveboat

Sweet, Sweet Summertime - @slut4drudy

Permanent - @quin-ns

#dirtytomatoedrecommends #dirtytomatoedreplies #18+ read

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dirtytomatoedwrites · 7 months

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DREW STARKEY as TREVOR in HELLRAISER (2022) dir. DAVID BRUCKNER

#drew starkey #dirtytomatoedgifs #so hoootttt

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dirtytomatoedwrites · 7 months

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Oh hun

Thank you for the kind review. To hear you've enjoyed Part 2 as much as you did fills me with absolute joy! Everything you said was ABSOLUTELY spot on! Reader just trying to forget about him and also make sense of her emotions (and desires), meanwhile Rafe going out his mind with worry, while dealing with shit with his fam and not to mention keeping on top of his "business affairs"

THE KISS IN THE RAIN was one of my favourite scenes to write. I've done so many versions of it but what remained was how DETERMINED he was and I loved how you picked up on the nuances in how he kissed and held her. Like the pent up aggression but then leading into tenderness because- finally, finally he gets to kiss her again.

Everything you've said about the Sofa scene was spot on too. It's funny cause I don't write multipart stories so Pre&Noc is pushing me into areas I'm not comfortable nor use to and in order to write it I'm just letting it pour out in a stream of consciousness just to see what would happen. As I was writing it naturally concluded with him just cumming from watching her ( because she was finally open, willing and receptive to him ) and she's also acknowledging him as the source of her pleasure by crying out his name (something he'd never thought to hear) Like how could he not cum from witnessing all of that sensory overload 😭😭

Phew, I've ranted long enough but yeah I'm sooooooo happy you're loving it as much as I'm enjoying writing it. And thank you once again for your wonderful review it means the WORLD to me . Until next time xoxo

Preludes and Nocturnes - Part 2

Paring: Rafe Cameron x InnocentPogue!reader

Summary: Rafe discovers your hidden talent and now he has seen it, you have his full attention.

PART 1 is here if you haven’t read it

Warnings: 18+ Smut. Darkish!Rafe. Virgin!Reader. Romance, Angst, Dub-Con, Fingering. Not Proof-Read so mistakes are my own.

Word Count: 8.3k words (Rafe has released the writing beast in me)

Author Note: Hello lovelies! So happy you enjoyed the first part. Here’s the second. I thought it would just be just a second part but the more I wrote the story just kept unfolding and I really want to do it justice. (I think part 1 and 2 together is the longest I’ve written for any fic character) So in order to really get into the angst and it not be too long its going to have to be 3 perhaps 4 parts (not sure yet) Anyway I’m currently writing part 3 so it won’t be too long before posting. One thing - there’s only one piece of music with this part and I would suggest playing it and leaving it running while you read the rest of the chapter.

Thank you for reading and sticking with the story and if you enjoyed it please reblog. It helps to spread the love. Much love and take care. ❤️

Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Please don’t steal or copy bits of my writing or any writing from other writers cause karma will get ya.

The soft glow of your phone, quietly vibrating beside you, nudged you out of your peaceful slumber. Still shrouded in a groggy haze, you instinctively turned away from it. Without even a glance, you knew who the messenger was, and the mere thought that he had sent another text caused a weary sigh to escape your lips.

Keep reading

#dirtytomatoedreplies #prelude and nocturnes

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dirtytomatoedwrites · 7 months

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SIS you'll let your dad ROT IN JAILLLLLLL RESPECTFULLY?! RESPECTFULLY?!! 😂😂😂 I can't with you guys 😂😂

INDEBTED

Summary: When your father's scandal threatens your family's legacy, Rafe gives you an offer you can't refuse.

Paring: Rafe Cameron x KookFem!Reader

Strictly 18+ No Minors to Interact

Warnings: Dark!Rafe, Dub-Con/Non-Con, Coercive Behaviour, Choking, Graphic Scenes / Smut.

Word Count: 4.8k words

Author's Note: 1000 followers! Wow, I never thought I'd reach 1000 followers. A part of me believes that half of these are bots, but regardless, to those who are real and have decided to join me in my little corner of the Tumblr woods, thank you. Your love and support, especially during these trying times, means a lot. I had this one shot sitting in my drafts for a while and thought I'd finish the damn thing and share it as a thank you. But heed those warnings : it's a dark one. Much love to you all ❤️

Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Please don’t steal or copy bits of my writing or any writing from other writers cause karma will get ya.

Embezzlement.

What a weird word.

It rolls off the tongue with an unfamiliar bitterness. It's the kind of term you'd see in a crossword puzzle, nestled between "clandestine" and "malevolent." You never imagined it would be splashed across news headlines with your family's name and the face of your father in the centre.

For years, your family was among the shining stars of Figure 8, leaders in hospitality, prestige, and wealth. Your home was the epicenter of elegance, the heartbeat of social galas. But now, news vans line the perimeter of your estate, their cameras hungry for a glimpse of the fallen dynasty. While online vultures, under the guise of investigative websites, sift through every chapter of your family's history.

Naturally, it caused a ripple, and as the waves of the scandal crashed onto the shores of Figure 8 with relentless force, family friends who once sought your company now wrestled with their association to yours. The 'friends' who once envied your galas and soirées now whisper behind closed doors.

It was the talk of every gathering. At lunches, tennis courts, even the marina; your family’s name was whispered with a mix of pity and sensationalism. Every disclosed detail, every leaked piece of evidence, threatens to shatter the glass pedestal upon which your family once stood unchallenged.

Yet, amidst the tempest of rumors and glares, your mother remains the eye of the storm. Resolute and graceful, she doesn't waver. The titan of Figure 8's social scene, she's always known how to command a room, and this scandal won't rob her of that gift.

Tonight, at the Midsummer ball, she's an emblem of defiance against the rising tide of whispers. And she does it so effortlessly. She glides through the crowd with that same charismatic charm. She smiles warmly, asking about children and recent vacations, pets, and passion projects, extending olive branches even when met with frosty receptions and curt replies.

You, however, are not as composed. The weight of judgmental gazes is too suffocating, the murmurs too piercing. The confines of the ball, with its glittering chandeliers and faux smiles, become a prison. With each passing moment, the walls seem to close in further. You need air. A moment of solitude. An escape from the suffocating pretense.

Whispering a quick excuse to your mother about needing the powder room, you slip away. The soft hum of the party fades behind you as you venture down a paved stone path, leading to the beach. The cool breeze and rhythmic waves provide solace, a stark contrast to the stifling ambiance of the party.

You had taken off the flower crown your mother had insisted you wear and were about to remove your shoes when you heard it: the soft crunch of footsteps on sand, drawing closer.

Hesitantly, you turned, finding him. The one whose eyes often sought yours in a crowd. Whose lingering gazes you'd always felt but habitually ignored. The same person who continually asked you out, oftentimes rudely and crudely. The one you had rejected, rebuffed, and shut down more times than you could count.

Rafe Cameron.

"Came to rub salt in my wounds?" you asked, unable to mask the bitterness in your voice.

"Now why would I want to do such a thing?" Rafe murmured. He pulled a cigarette from his pocket, placing it between his lips. The soft flicker of the lighter momentarily illuminated his face, revealing a brief smirk before the darkness cloaked him again. "I thought you might appreciate some company instead."

The word 'appreciate' ricocheted around your mind, sounding almost absurd in this situation. Company? From Rafe Cameron? The notorious Kook King of Figure 8, a classic case book narcissist who, you were certain, had probably raised a toast to the scandal engulfing your family. At this moment, you'd rather eat glass than accept his sympathy. Rolling your eyes, you turned back to the sea, barely acknowledging his presence.

“I'm not in the mood to talk, Rafe," your voice steady but seething with restrained frustration. Your eyes remained locked onto the undulating waves before you. The smell of sea-salt filled your nostrils, and for a fleeting moment, you felt at peace. It lasts all of two seconds before Rafe opens his mouth again.

"Fine, I'll talk. You listen," he asserts, as he settles against a rock. He leisurely inhales from his cigarette before blowing out a plume of smoke into the night air. You can feel his contemplative gaze on you; it becomes evident in the softened timbre of his voice when he speaks again. “You know, it's downright shitty what they're doing to your dad. To your family. To you... I can't stand by and watch."

A scornful laugh escapes you as you finally meet his gaze. "Well, life's not exactly handing out fairness certificates, is it?"

He shook his head, "No, it isn’t. But, it still doesn't make it right. It doesn’t make it fair when your dad claims he’s innocent—”

“My dad is innocent,” you assert fiercely, standing tall, arms crossed defiantly over your chest.

“Oh, I believe he is. But the world? Not so much. Your dad’s always been good to my family. My old man took it hard when he heard. I mean, of all the people on Figure 8 to be arrested for embezzlement, your dad was the last person anyone would suspect—”

“What's your point, Rafe?” You snapped, clearly about to lose the last shred of patience you had.

"I’ve been thinking about it alot, and maybe my family can help.”

Skepticism etched itself clear as day on your face. It seemed ironic that Rafe felt his family could help when Rose and Ward shunned your parents the moment the news broke.

“And how do you propose to do that?" you asked, your voice tinged with mistrust.

Rafe shrugged, a casual gesture that contradicted the gravity of the situation. "My dad, he's got connections—”

“So do mine,” you shot back.

“But did yours play golf with Senator Whitfield every Saturday? Rain or shine? Nah, didn’t think so.”

You felt a moment of silence envelop you both, the distant murmurs of the sea a constant reminder of the world moving around you.

"Alright, I'll bite," you said with a lick of your lips. "What do you want in return? You're clearly not doing this out of the goodness of your heart."

Rafe flicked his cigarette onto the sand, extinguishing it with a deliberate twist of his shoe. As he stepped closer, moonlight illuminated his eyes, giving them an almost predatory glow.

“You've got me," he admitted, his smirk devoid of warmth. “I do want something in return. Something that has been on my mind. Something I’ve wanted for a long time now. You."

A shiver raced down your spine, a cocktail of revulsion and trepidation. Retreating a step, your voice quivered but remained defiant.

"So, you're after a date?" You clarified, eyes narrowing. The same date he'd pestered you for, relentlessly, over the past year. The same date you'd denied him repeatedly, because despite being handsome, Rafe Cameron's moral compass seemed nonexistent.

Rafe scratched his ear as he moved slowly toward you, his expression pained as though what he was about to reveal would hurt him far more than it would hurt you.

"Yeah, see, a date won't begin to cover what I'm risking for your old man, given his rap sheet is longer than my arm. No, what I want is something much more... rewarding," his voice sank to a sultry whisper as he towered over you.

"And what would that be?" you asked, tension crackling in the air between you.

"I want to be able to fuck you whenever and however I want—for a month, maybe two, perhaps even a year..." he shrugged slowly, "The specifics are negotiable, but doesn't that sound fair? A little pussy in exchange for your dad's freedom?”

The slap was instinctual. Swift. The sting on your palm matched only by the shock on Rafe's face. For a split second, everything was still.

Rafe's eyes turned to steel, his demeanor shifting chillingly in a heartbeat. He closed in, his voice a venomous whisper slicing through the salty sea air. "You must have a death wish," he hissed, an unmistakable dangerous edge to his words. His hand gingerly brushed his reddening jaw, his piercing gaze never leaving yours. "Your dad's freedom? It's dangling by the thinnest thread... The right words from a senator could decide whether he walks free or becomes someone's bitch behind bars."

He paused, his gaze falling to the flower crown in your hand. Slowly, deliberately, he reached out to touch it, his fingers lightly tracing the delicate petals, an almost gentle gesture that was jarringly at odds with the tension of the moment.

"If you want to help your dad, having a friend like me might be your best bet." he murmured his voice thick with predatory intent "Think it over, yeah?" His gaze lifted back to yours, a sly grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Fuck you, Rafe," you whispered, disgust fueled your retreat as you stormed away, his chilling laugh echoing ominously in the night air.

"You will, princess. When you come to your senses, you will."

Rafe's lingering words pressed on you, growing heavier with each breath. The looming possibility of your father's life behind bars became ever more ominous as Rafe presented a potential solution—a solution with an inconceivable price tag.

How could he even insinuate such a thing? The mere suggestion repulsed you, igniting a fury at Rafe's audacity. Yet the unease gnawing at your belly made you question: to what lengths would you go to save your dad? With your family facing disgrace and teetering on the brink of bankruptcy, Rafe's proposal offered a faint glimmer of hope, even if it took the ugliest of forms.

In the solitude of your bedroom, the pristine walls seemed to close in, just like the midsummer ball. Picking up your phone, you stared at the screen, the bright white light harsh against the dim setting. The contacts list stared back, an overwhelming list of names, none of whom had reached out during your family's time of need.

You scrolled, hesitating briefly before landing on Rafe's name. A whirlwind of emotions — from anger to desperation — consumed you as you pressed on it. Trembling fingers typed, deleted, and retyped a message multiple times, finally settling on the simplest of words.

"We need to talk."

Almost immediately, three dots danced on the screen.

"Tomorrow 7pm, Tannyhill.”

Was Rafe’s curt response.

You could barely sleep that night, as your mind raced, forming what you hoped was a semblance of a plan. You needed to negotiate on your terms, to retain some shred of dignity. It wasn't a detailed strategy, but it was enough to at least get through Rafe's offer with your sanity.

The next day as you approached Tannyhill, you whispered silent affirmations to yourself, reaffirming your resolve, your worth, and the necessity of your mission.

And then, there he was. Rafe Cameron, leaning casually against the frame of the ornate door, a picture of wealth and arrogance, a stark contrast to the turmoil raging within you. His eyes met yours, and for a moment, the world seemed to fall away, leaving only the two of you in the impending darkness of the evening.

Rafe opened the door for you, his face betraying a flicker of something you couldn't quite read, but there was no turning back now. You stepped in, ready to negotiate with the devil himself if it meant saving your family.

"Where's everyone?" you asked, there was no point in exchanging pleasantries. Nothing about the situation was remotely pleasant.

"Movies. I hadn't expected a text from you so soon," his voice dripped with condescension, "I was betting on at least a week or two."

"Yeah well, it is my dad's life on the line," your footsteps echoed with purpose as you followed him into the living room, eyes steeling for the battle ahead. "The sooner we finalize our agreement, the quicker you can pull whatever strings you have, right?"

Rafe spun around, his gaze locking onto yours. The sly curve of his lips unsettling. "Sure, I’ll make a few calls,” he stated, voice dark and sardonic, "but it'll depend on the terms we agree to."

"Alright…” you braced yourself, your arms folded trying to regain control. "Let's start with how lon--"

“A year,” Rafe cut in, not breaking eye contact.

"That's out of the question. A month," you shot back.

His chuckle resonated with an underlying seriousness, his eyes narrowing in focus "Sure, we can say a month. Are you willing to fuck me at least twice a day? If not eight months."

You straightened, your resolve hardening. "Two months, tops."

His eyes gleamed as he considered your counteroffer. "How about this, we keep our arrangement going until your dad's free. It could be a month, maybe two, it might even be a year. It depends on how soon he’s out. What do you think?"

You hesitated, visibly weighing the implications of such an open-ended commitment. Your dad’s charges were serious. The chances of those charges disappearing and him being released in a month seemed like a miracle. "What if it drags on for years?" you whispered.

Rafe’s grin grew more pronounced, relishing your distress. "Well, princess, that's for you to decide. You can always walk away whenever you think it’s unbearable. Does that seem fair?"

"Okay, fine. Now about condoms--”

“Not using them--”

“Oh, we’re using them. I’m not interested in having your kid, Rafe, and I’m certainly not interested in catching anything from you.”

“I always glove up, princess, and get tested regularly too.”

“Okay, so why are you against using condoms with me, then?”

“Because I promised myself…” he said slowly, his voice lowering as he made his way towards you, “If I ever got the chance to fuck you, I'd do it raw—”

Your jaw clicked, your hands itching to slap him again. “Weren’t you fooling around with Letizia a couple of weeks back?”

“Yeah, so? I was gloved up.”

“I don't care. You've slept with half the girls on figure 8. I want you fully tested before we even think about doing anything. Condoms every time, no excuses.”

“Alright. I’ll get tested. Condoms when having sex, no condoms for blowjobs.”

"Yeah, about that, I'm not doing oral.'” you said folding your arms in resignation.

Rafe's eyes bore into yours, annoyance coloring his features.

"No. You don’t get to dictate how I fuck you." he snapped, his voice taking on a sudden edge of authority. "Look, i’m willing to let you negotiate a few terms, give you some semblance of control but it’s got to be worth my while, and for it to be worth it, I get to fuck you how I want, when I want.”

You swallowed, feeling your resolve waver.

"Now, here's what I want to make this deal work: when I call, you answer. No matter the place, no matter the time. You show up. Clear?" Rafe said.

You paused before giving a hesitant nod, the magnitude of your agreement dawning on you.

"And if I ask you to wear something specific, you will. No questions. We have a deal?"

Your throat tightened as his demands began to overwhelm you, but you managed a brief nod in response.

"Remember, fail to meet my terms, and our deal ends. Understood?"

Another nod.

"Anything else?"

“When will you make the call?” you asked quickly.

“After our first session,” he proposed, his smile revealing a hint of anticipation. “After that I’ll do whatever I can to make sure your dad’s free”

" I want proof. I want proof that you’d stick to your part of the deal.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll get it.”

“Good." you said as you took a deep breath and released it slowly. "Get tested and send me the results," you responded, you're tone neutral, treating it as a standard business transaction. "I'll do the same. We can then choose a time and date."

Rafe nodded in agreement, his gaze intense and piercing.

You extended your hand towards him.

"What's that for?" he chuckled lowly.

"A handshake. To seal the deal."

Rafe reached out, his arms enveloping you in a firm yet tender grasp, pulling you against him. "How about we seal this deal with a kiss, hmm?" he murmured. "Especially since we'll be doing a lot more than just kissing very soon."

Rafe leaned in, letting his lips graze yours. But you stiffened, instinctively tilting your head so that his lips met your cheek instead. A soft chuckle escaped him as he retreated just a fraction. With his fingers gently but firmly cradling your jaw, he directed your face back to his, an unsettling tension growing palpable between you.

"Ah ah, you'll have to give me more than that," he whispered, his voice dripping with authority. "Kiss me. Like you mean it." It wasn't a mere request; it was a command that left you feeling completely cornered.

A battle of wills ensued; neither of you making the first move, both of you waiting for the other to blink first. Rafe's eyes never left your own as he leaned in once again, his determination clear.

His tongue gently pushed past your parted lips, and you allowed it, setting off a delicate yet conflicting dance between your tongues and lips.

Groaning into your mouth, his eyes shut as the kiss deepened, carrying an undeniable intensity. He sucked on your bottom lip, nipping at your tender flesh until his tongue lashed hungrily against yours sending a peculiar mix of tingles and dread coursing through you.

Finally, you pulled away from the kiss, catching your breath while your chest heaved. Rafe remained close, his lips just a whisper away from yours, his breathing matching your intensity.

"I'll get tested first thing tomorrow," he whispered, his voice thick with urgency and desire. "Make sure you do, too."

"All clear."

That was the message Rafe sent you two days after your heated conversation, accompanied by a screengrab of his test results. Without hesitation, you replied, sending him your own results in return.

As your fingers tapped across the screen, a surge of disgust washed over you. The very idea of being intimate with Rafe was anything but appealing; it fact, it made you feel sick.

You'd never choose Rafe of your own volition. Sure he was handsome but his excessive drinking and drug habits were repellant, and his disdain and bullying nature towards the Pogues was disturbing. None of his qualities were remotely attractive, let alone fuckable.

But then, the stern, resilient part of you asserted itself, urging you to focus on the goal at hand.

This was not about you or Rafe; it was about orchestrating your father's release from prison, a critical mission where failure wasn't an option. With this clear objective ingrained in your mind, you steeled your resolve, preparing yourself for what lay ahead.

When he proposed meeting up that same night, you didn't find it strange given Rafe's impulsive nature. However, the location he suggested did catch you off guard.

It wasn't Tannyhill, the somewhat familiar and comfortable place you had anticipated, but instead, an unfamiliar address. The randomness of the location set off tiny alarms in the back of your mind, making you wary but you took a deep breath, quickly typing out your response-

"I'll be there."

It wasn't just any random address, as you initially thought.

At the front of a gated tree-lined drive stood a prominent sign declaring, “Cameron Developments.” The freshly poured concrete and stacks of lumber clearly indicated that it was a home under renovation.

As you made your way along the winding path, unease gripped you, but the sight of Rafe’s truck haphazardly parked near the entrance reassured you that you had indeed reached the right place.

The estate was draped in an unsettling darkness, punctuated only by the soft chirping of crickets, the distant hoot of an owl, and the sporadic glow of work lights from inside, hinting at the ongoing renovations.

Exiting your car, you took a moment to absorb the scene before approaching the house. With each step towards the porch, your heart rate quickened. But before you could even announce your presence, the heavy door groaned open, revealing the looming presence of Rafe.

His expression, obscured by the shadows and dim work lights from within, gave away nothing. Without a word, he stepped aside, allowing you to enter, then closed the door and locked it.

A knot formed in your throat, a cocktail of dread and adrenaline. Pushing the mounting fear aside, you gathered your voice, attempting to sound braver than you felt. "Alright, let's get this over with," you said.

A wicked grin tugged at the corner of Rafe's lips. You felt an icy dread settle in your chest. "Oh, we will," he murmured, "But first, I want to play a game... to make things... interesting." The atmosphere grew heavy, oppressive. "You get a two-minute head start. After that, I'm coming for you. Run."

Panic gripped you. "What? What the hell are you talking about? What do you mean run?" you stammered, your voice edged with rising panic.

But his eyes were cold, devoid of humor or empathy. He leaned closer, his voice a menacing hiss that left no room for interpretation. "Run."

A rush of adrenaline hit you, and without another word, you sprinted past him as if your very life depended on it.

You had no clear destination in mind, only the primal instinct to run and hide. Every fiber of your being was attuned to survival. Heart pounding in your chest, you sprinted up the grand staircase, taking the steps three at a time, feeling the weight of your own desperation in every leap.

At the top, a maze of doors and hallways stretched out before you. You lunged for the nearest one, finding yourself in a dimly lit bedroom freshly painted in white. Shadows danced on the walls from the solitary work light, and your gaze immediately snapped to a closet on your right.

Without hesitation, you slipped inside, gently closing the door behind you. The smell of old cedar and mothballs filled your nostrils. Placing a trembling hand over your mouth, you tried to muffle the sound of your heavy, ragged breathing.

Gently, so as not to make a sound, you nudged the slatted shutter doors of the closet closed, leaving only thin slivers of the room visible – distorted, but enough to keep watch.

The ominous sound of footsteps reached your ears; they were methodical, unhurried. Rafe was searching, savoring the hunt. You watched in horror as his elongated shadow, cast by the work light, drifted across the closet. A cold sweat formed on your forehead, and you had to fight back the urge to gasp as the shadow paused momentarily by the closet doors.

After what felt like an eternity, the shadow moved away, and you heard his footsteps retreating. Letting out a silent sigh of relief, you gave yourself a moment to gather your bearings. But you knew all too well you couldn't remain hidden for long; he would inevitably retrace his steps and find you.

Gathering your courage, you carefully eased the closet doors open and quickly scanned the room for an escape route. Your heart pounded violently in your chest as you made your move. Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you tiptoed across the room, avoiding the creaky floorboards that might betray your presence. But the moment you stepped out of the bedroom, you collided with a solid mass.

Rafe's eyes pierced through to your soul, pure hunger reflected in them as he stared down at you. His hand clamped around your throat, pulling you close as the smell of your fear and his cologne filled your nostrils in a nauseating mix. His lips crushed against yours, ravaging your mouth with an intensity that nearly made you faint.

As your fight-or-flight instincts kicked in, you frantically writhed in his grip. Your fists relentlessly pounded against his arm, trying to get him to relinquish his hold on you, but it was no use. In one swift motion, Rafe backed you into the bedroom and forcefully dragged you to the floor, your fingers wildly clawing at his arm as you searched for any type of leverage you could find.

Rafe ravished your neck with unbridled hunger, his other hand violently tugged at your skirt and panties, scraping the skin of your thighs until finding your moist center—the slippery wetness signifying your surrender to pleasure. Rafe groaned as his fingertips slid through your slick folds and into you causing you to gasp at the white-hot jolts of pleasure.

"For someone who's only doing this to save their dad, you're soaked..." Rafe laughed breathlessly, trailing a line of wet kisses up your throat. "All that sanctimonious bullshit about what you will and won't do and look at you, fucking dripping for my cock—”

"Fuck you!" you screeched, a potent mixture of embarrassment and venomous rage coursing through you has you writhing beneath him, your determination to push him off almost frantic.

"That's it—fight back," he jeered, his voice dripping with dark amusement. "Fight back. It'll make this all the more satisfying."

You kicked and screamed, only for Rafe to capture your lips in a bruising kiss. His hands connected your wrists together over your head. In a single move, he flipped you onto your stomach and straddled you from behind, his erection pressing against your ass.

One of Rafe's hands tears off your panties, your screams in protest seize immediately as Rafe stuffed the flimsy cotton into your mouth.

"There," he taunted with a sinister chuckle, pressing you down further as you desperately attempted to wriggle free. You strained to let out a scream, your voice stifled by the makeshift gag.

That same hand worked feverishly to free himself from his pants. You could feel the throbbing heat of his erection at the cleft of your ass. Could hear him tearing open the condom packet with his teeth, the necessary prelude to quenching his ever-growing thirst.

Not too long after he was grinding the head of his cock against your wetness while you fought to express your protests through your gag.

"No, no, this is what we've agreed to. What you agreed to..." Rafe's breath hitched as his cock slid over your weeping slit. With one hard, raw thrust, barely allowing you time to adjust to his girth, he plunged himself deep inside you.

He wasted no time, immediately beginning his relentless thrusts, utterly indifferent to your muffled struggles behind the gag. Your body writhed beneath his weight, your movements punctuated by desperate grunts, the hardwood floor beneath you offering no mercy.

After a brief moment, Rafe released your wrists and drew you closer, his grip on your hips unwavering as he continued to drive into you with unrelenting intensity. Your head spun as you gradually surrendered to the powerful cadence of his movements. His hands clung to you possessively, guiding both of you in a desperate, synchronized dance. Every nerve in your body ignited, a primal heat surging from deep within.

Your eyelids fluttered shut as your body succumbed to his unyielding force. Despite the freedom of your hands, you found yourself paralyzed, incapable of resisting or offering any form of resistance. Instead, you relinquished control, allowing Rafe to claim you entirely.

"I'm gonna fucking cum. I'm gonna cum. Cum with me," he growled through gritted teeth, his tempo increasing to a punishing pace.

You weakly shook your head, 'no,' your determination unwavering as you fought to maintain control over your desires. The mere thought of your pleasure becoming entangled with his, sullied and exploited for his depraved fantasies, was something you couldn't bear.

"Oh, you'll cum," Rafe hissed. In a sudden, ominous gesture, he swiftly removed his leather belt from its loop around his pants and coiled it around your neck, pulling and winding it tightly around his fist.

"If you want to breathe, you'll cum," he snarled, thrusting into you with unrelenting force. The room was filled only with the sound of your choked gasps for air, Rafe's ragged breaths, the creak of the leather as he tightened his grip, and the rhythmic slap of his hips against your flesh. You fought with every ounce of your being not to succumb to the impending orgasm, tears streaming uncontrollably from your eyes as you waged a futile battle.

The room reverberated with your agonized screams as ecstasy finally overtook you. Your muscles tensed and quivered beneath you, each wave of pleasure crashing over you like a violent tsunami drowning you. Your fingers clawed at the belt constricting your throat, the leather biting into your skin and to your abject horror, you were gushing as you orgasmed.

Rafe rode you with a feverish frenzy, burying his face in the crook of your neck. With a triumphant roar, Rafe's climax finally arrived, and he shuddered against you, muffling his moans of pleasure into your skin.

Sated and content, he collapsed on top of you, his breathing heavy and labored, the condom filled with his cum. After a moment, he withdrew and shifted to lie beside you.

Summoning every ounce of strength you had left, you managed to free yourself from the tight confines of the belt and the stifling gag that had cruelly silenced you. Every fiber of your being, every muscle in your body, screamed with raw pain as you gulped in fresh air, each breath feeling like a hard-won victory. Tears of relief and anguish streamed unchecked down your face, and with a shaky hand, you hastily brushed them away.

The room seemed to sway, a disorienting blend of fear, relief, and vertigo threatening to drag you into terrifying darkness.

Yet, slicing through the fog of your distress was the haunting sound of Rafe's laughter. His voice was breathless, yet unmistakably gleeful. His fingers, dampened with sweat, raked through his tousled hair, highlighting his heightened state of exhilaration. "Next time," he grinned, a chilling promise lacing his tone, "Next time, we'll use rope."

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Thanks for reading x If you enjoyed it please like/reblog/drop a comment would love to know what you think. Until next time ❤️

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