#angstober23'

[loveharlow]

LIVE BAIT

PAIRING‧₊˚  Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader, Topper Thornton x Fem!Reader (one sided)

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚  [4.1k] Left alone with Topper while Rafe is out, his best friend seems to take a shot at you...

WARNING(S)‧₊˚  non-con/dub-con, smut, swearing, dark!rafe, gullible!reader, sexual coercion/manipulation, deception, cheating, yelling, manhandling, implied murder/attempted murder

A/N‧₊˚ part of my angstober event!

˗ˏˋ rafe masterlist ˎˊ˗

YOU SAT ON THE COUCH IN RAFE’S LIVING IN NOTHING BUT ONE OF HIS SHIRTS, WATCHING TV AS HE EMERGED FROM DOWN THE HALL. He had his phone and car keys in hand, the jingling of the metal causing your eyes to drift from the flashing of digital colors to him. 

“Are you leaving?” You inquired, leaning your weight on one arm as you sat up on the couch slightly.

“Yeah, something came up but it won’t take long.” You frowned as you watched his frame edge closer to the front door of The Cameron Residence, his hand on the doorknob as he turned around to look at your half-dressed figure on the sofa. “Go put some pants on. Topper’s still coming by.”

You wanted to groan at his statement. “Can’t he hang out with Kelce? He always want to hang with you. Doesn't he have other friends?”

“He’s still upset about Sarah leaving him and he thinks she’ll pop up around the house. Look just, don’t say anything about her around him. Alright?”

You huffed and rolled your eyes, mumbling something about Topper being annoying before turning away from him to face the TV once again, fully prepared to hear the slam of the front door signaling his absence. You never heard that confirmation, however. Instead, you were met with the feeling of Rafe’s calloused hand on your jaw just before you registered his quick footsteps, the man using his firm grip to tilt your head back where you were greeted with the sight of him staring you down.

“Drop the attitude. If I have to put up with you, you have to put up with him. So fix your damn face and be nice.” He told you sternly and in a hushed tone before releasing his grip and allowing your face to drop, the strain on your neck easing itself out. You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to ignore the way his words stung in the slightest of ways. You could hear his heavy steps following their path back to the front door, the alarm system chiming and hinges creaking as he opened the door. “And I’m serious, go put some pants on.” Was all he said before you heard the slam of the front door.

NOT EVEN THIRTY MINUTES HAD PASSED SINCE RAFE LEFT. You’d resistantly done as he said, going into his bedroom and finding a pair of shorts you’d left here and tugging them on, despite them being swallowed by his shirt anyway, barely able to tell you were wearing them.

You were on the sofa again, laying on your back as you scrolled through your phone when suddenly, you heard the lock on the front door being twisted, mechanisms clanking against each other and echoing out in the expanse of the room. Head twisting towards the noise, a stream of sunlight welcomed itself in as Topper walked into the home, carefully closing the door behind himself. 

Turning around, he was visibly startled by your face peeking above the back of the couch. “Oh, hey.” He breathed out, realizing it was just you. “I forgot Rafe said you’d be here, too." He spoke absentmindedly. "Where is he, by the way?” He questioned, walking around to stand in front of your outstretched frame.

You politely slid your feet off of the length of the furniture, clearing a space for him to sit next to you. You were both on two opposite ends of the couch and you didn’t miss the way he eyed the length of your exposed legs, tongue coming out to lick the corner of his mouth. 

“He had to do something, said he’d be back soon.” You responded back, mainly giving your attention to your phone as you leaned against the arm of the couch and tried not to look at him. It was mildly awkward in the space — seeing as you’d only ever really interacted with Topper when your boyfriend was around and now that it was just you two, there was a tension that clouded the room. Rafe always served as an icebreaker and he wasn't here to break the ice.

Topper hummed in response. Eventually, you turned off your phone, diverting your attention to the TV and that was when you noticed it — Topper’s eyes fleeting to you every couple of seconds in your peripheral. Your legs were curled up underneath you and his eyes roamed your figure, up and down with little shame. This went on for a couple minutes until he spoke up.

“When did you say Rafe would be back again?”

Your wide eyes drifted to the blonde on the far end of the couch, nervously going between him and the program that was playing low in the background. “Oh, um, I didn’t. But he should be back soon.” 

Only then did you notice Rafe had been gone for a fair amount of time. But it wasn’t anything new. Knowing him he could be back within the next five minutes or five hours, not a care in the world that you were stuck in the house with his best friend who wouldn't stop staring at you. Was there something on on your shirt? Did he want to say something?

“You know, he might be helping his dad. I heard something happened to one of the construction sites. A roof collapsed or something.” He told you, sitting up straighter. “...That could take a while.”

“Oh.” You said apprehensively. “If that’s the case then yeah, he might be a while. I can go to his room so you can have this space to yourself-”

“No, no,” Topper interrupted, dragging himself closer to you across the couch, now only inches away. Your back ached as you pressed yourself against the armrest, his sudden close proximity startling you. “I don't mind. We can keep each other company.” He spoke lowly, eyes boring into yours. One of his hands came up to caress your thigh, his fingers gliding across the flesh as your heart thumped in your chest. You didn't feel comfortable with that.

“It’s just that, I’ve been having a really hard time getting my mind off of Sarah, y’know? I could use the company.” 

“I heard about that…” You mumbled.

The boy scoffed. “The whole island has. She really embarrassed me and it’s just been hard trying to act like I’m okay.” His eyes were on your lips now, eyeing them as he spoke. “But I think you could help distract me…”

You suddenly felt uneasy but also somewhat bad for him. As much as she had the rights to, Sarah had embarrassed Topper to quite the extreme. Not only did she dump him, but she was now dating a pogue who demeaned him at every given chance. It was a rivalry, of course. So, you couldn’t imagine his anger.

“Distract you…how?” Was the first thing that rolled off your tongue, the hand that was kneading your thigh coming up to gently grab your wrist. 

“You could start by solving the problem you’ve created,” He said enigmatically, dragging your limp palm to rest against the crotch of his pants where you could feel a prominent erection poking through the fabric. The action set off alarm bells in your mind, quickly tugging your hand away and pushing yourself further up the couch.

Shaking your head side to side, you spoke a mile a minute. “I think I gave you the wrong idea. I didn't- I don’t think Rafe would be okay with this-”

“He is.” Topper blurted, cheeks turning red.

“...He is?”

“He would be. I’m his best friend, right? You gotta trust me, I know him better than anyone. Plus, he would be proud of you for helping out his friend. I know he would.” The boy explained. 

Topper wasn’t a fool but he knew that you could be. Not a fool necessarily...gullible would be a better phrase. To some people, you seemed bimbo-ish — a pretty face with not a clear thought behind your eyes. He always thought that was why it was so easy for Rafe to walk you the way he did. Rafe had you wrapped around his finger and there was no doubt that he loved you, though it may not always seem evident. 

Topper had always thought you were desirable and secretly admired the way you absentmindedly submitted to Rafe without hesitation, he didn’t know whether it was out of fear or love, or both. All he knew was that look that you got in your eyes whenever Rafe was around, that pleading, doe-eyed look you sported in the presence of your boyfriend was something he’d wanted to see up close and personal for a long time now. You were a craving, a sexual fantasy that Topper could never have. Not until now, anyway.

And if he had to spew a couple little white lies to get you to spread your legs, then he was going to do whatever it took. And Rafe would never have to know. Because he wanted you more than he feared Rafe.

“You really think so?” You questioned the validity of Topper’s claims, the only thing on your mind was the reward you’d possibly receive for helping your boyfriend’s best friend feel just a little bit better in the face of heartbreak.

“I know so. In fact, Rafe...actually suggested it.”

That statement made your gut twist. You didn’t know why, but it just did. It didn't sound like something Rafe would do, but Topper said he knew Rafe better than anyone. You guessed that included you.

“Well, if it’s okay with him then…”

The blonde smiled at this, his hands moving your waist and prying your frame off of the edge of the couch, practically yanking you into his lap. His blue eyes running between your pupils and your lips before he crashed his mouth against yours, wasting no time in slipping his tongue between them. You yelped into the exchange, the frantic neediness of it all catching you off guard.

You maneuvered your legs into a more comfortable position, now straddling his lap as his boner pressed directly against your core through the thin fabric of your shorts. You didn’t know how to respond to any of this — he was so much different from Rafe. You were used to the way Rafe loved you — the firmness in the way he kissed you, the small grunts he would let out in between each one, how he would eventually trail his kisses down the valley of your neck, the valley of your breasts, down your stomach.

Why didn’t he give Topper any kind of pointers when he suggested this? Probably because this is more for Topper than it is for you, you thought. This wasn’t for you at all, actually. You were a distraction. Or so you’d been told.

His tongue roamed the inside of your mouth, the warm muscle circling as it waited for your own to do the same. You tried to focus on pressing your lips against his with the same pressure, but you could never seem to catch whatever wavelength he was on. Eventually, he pulled back, his lips red, wet, and swollen. 

Your eyes tried to catch his but they were laser focused on your collarbone that was peeking out above Rafe’s shirt. His hands balled into fists, balling up the fabric that you wore into them and pulling it over your head and dropping the garment to the floor, leaving the ‘v’ of your breast exposed to him. The bra you had on pushing them up, making them look plump. You didn’t miss how Topper bit his lip as one of his hands came up to fondle one of the rounds of flesh, his hips bucking up into you as he did so. 

His hands circled your back, coming into contact with the clasp of your bra, ready to undo the item and let it fall until he seemingly decided against it, mumbling something about not wanting to make too much of a mess.

He was much more silent than Rafe. Rafe was not one to keep quiet during intimacy, always groaning, or swearing, and whispering something so dirty into your ear that you couldn’t help but moan out loud, arching into him.

The boy stood up with you on his lap, holding you up by your behind as to not drop you. With you in his arms, he turned as he stood up, gently laying you on the couch on your back. He wasted little time in dragging your shorts and underwear down your legs together, leaving you exposed and on display for him, a cool breeze passing between your legs.

“Shit…” Topper cursed under his breath as his eyes were glued to your dripping core. You were slightly confused when his hands immediately went to the button on his pants, undoing the closure and shoving the clothing down his legs, the fabric pooling around one of his ankles as he didn’t even bother to completely remove them.

He propped one leg up on the couch, the other planted on the floor as he pulled you closer by the hips. Using one of his hands, he guided the tip of his cock that was leaking with precum to your entrance. He teased himself before actually pushing it in, rubbing the head of it against the wetness that was dripping from you and onto the sofa, surely leaving a wet patch beneath you. Gliding it up and down, stopping to circle your clit before eventually pushing into you.

You let out a soft gasp, feeling a slight throb of pain as he stretched you out. You watched the boy carefully above you, one of his hands now outstretched as it gripped onto the armrest behind your head, eyes rolling back as his hips stuttered when his dick hit your cervix.

The intrusion didn’t feel bad but it didn’t feel great either. You didn’t know if it was because this was a foreign thing or because he just wasn’t Rafe.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to get you like this…” He muttered, almost mindlessly, under his breath. Eyes clouded over with pleasure as he drew his hips back slowly, only to push back in at an equally slow pace.

The statement threw you, prompting you to question his real motives but Topper was a genuine person, right? And he wouldn’t lie to you for no reason, especially not for his own gain…

Right?

He told you that you were just helping him take his mind off of Sarah, that this wasn’t wrong. So, you were taking his word for it. More than his word, actually. Topper wasn’t just Rafe’s friend, he was yours too, wasn’t he?

Topper’s slow pace wasn’t something you were fond of, you quickly realized. Your orgasm not even beginning to build but you kept quiet. This was to help him, not you. He was breaking out into a light sweat despite his slow momentum, biting harshly into his lips concealing any noise he may have made, veins protruding from his biceps as his grip on the headrest grew deathly.

It wasn’t long before he came, not bothering to pull out as he did so, letting his seed fill you up, some of it hitting the inside of your thighs as he pulled out. When he seemed to have emptied himself out, he barely acknowledged you as he retreated away, standing fully from the furniture as he shuffled his pants back up his legs. 

His breathing was shallow and his face was flushed, he didn’t even bother to clasp the button on his pants back together before he was making his way down the hall, presumably to the guest bathroom to get himself together.

You steadied your own breaths, labored from the unfamiliar experience rather than exhaustion or pleasure. Carefully, you sat up straight on the couch, shimmying your panties and shorts back onto both of your legs and dragging them back up to your waist, trying to ignore the way the fabric smeared his cum against your thighs. Topper’s secretion was still dripping out of you, making the fabric against your center uncomfortable — hot, sticky, and scratchy.

Fishing around on the floor, you retrieve Rafe’s shirt that had been abandoned in the beginning, slipping the loose fabric back over the length of your body.

Assuming Topper had gotten what he needed and your job here was done, you headed upstairs, prepared to shower in Rafe’s room.

You tried to ignore that feeling in your gut that had been bubbling since Topper put his hand on your thigh. You just couldn’t put your finger on why you felt so bad about doing a good thing.

BY THE TIME RAFE HAD RETURNED, TWO HOURS HAD PASSED. You’d cleaned yourself up, just throwing on another one of Rafe’s old graphic tees and a pair of sweatpants. When you’d returned downstairs after your shower, Topper was sitting comfortably on the piece of furniture as if nothing had happened. However, when you went to sit down, he’d tried to beckon you over to lay under his arm. You’d politely declined. 

So, you both sat in silence once again. Topper put on a movie to watch while you went right back to scrolling on your phone, getting a text from Rafe about an hour into the movie that he was on his way back.

When he’d finally gotten back, you couldn’t ignore the way it felt like a weight was lifted off of your chest, shooting your boyfriend a giddy smile as he shut the door behind him.

“Rafe!” You practically cheered, hopping off of the couch and skipping over to where he was kicking his shoes off at the door. 

“Hey, I’m sorry that took so long…” He apologized mindlessly, eyes finally landing on you. “I’m glad you’re in a better mood.” He spoke, squinting his eyes with mild suspicion. His gaze drifted to Topper’s figure draped over the far end of the couch, jutting his head in his direction in greeting. “‘Sup, Top.”

“What’s good?” Topper replied nervously, not even able to maintain full eye contact with his friend. Rafe found it weird, making a face of confusion before ultimately letting it go. His eyes shifted back to where you stood in front of him, winding his arms around your waist, similar to how Topper had just hours ago.

Only Rafe’s touch was familiar — more comforting. The dirty blonde leaned down to press his lips against yours, kissing you lovingly for a few moments before pulling back as his eyes looked you up and down. His hands never left your waist as he walked you backwards towards the sofa. “Did you change?”

You glanced down at yourself, forgetting that you probably looked different than you did when he walked out of the door hours ago. You opened your mouth to reply honestly. You didn’t think what had gone down between you and Topper was some top-notch secret. After all, he said Rafe had suggested it. “Um, yeah. I just wanted to clean myself up after helping Topper out.”

Rafe’s face twisted at the statement. It’s not like it was an odd thing but he just had no idea what had happened while he was gone. “What happened?”

Now it was your face that was twisting, confused at his words. You opened your mouth to reply before Topper beat you to it, neck craned dangerously over the back of the couch as he spoke. “Oh, it was nothing, man. She was just being nice and getting me something to drink and spilled it on herself.”

Rafe seemed to take the answer at face value, not pressing any further as he guided you both to sit on the couch before he stopped in his tracks, hands letting go off you to rub at a dark spot on the fabric of the furniture that wasn’t there before he left. 

“Did you spill whatever it was on the couch?” He questioned irritatedly, rubbing and scratching that patch that wouldn’t budge. 

Neither you nor Topper responded as Rafe huffed, making his way towards the kitchen to retrieve something to try and scrub the stain out before Rose, the clean-freak she was, got on him about it. Standing over the sink however, he took notice of something — there were no glasses in the sink. In fact, the kitchen looked untouched from when it had been cleaned yesterday.

If you’d gotten Topper something to drink, where’d you pour it? Into the palm of his hands?

Rafe’s gaze rose to look at the blonde who was lounging on his couch and he’d looked up just in time to see his best friend’s gaze trail up the length of your frame hungrily. 

The action made a thought appear in his mind, a crazy thought. Rafe wasn’t as naive as you, he saw the way his friends looked at you and heard the way they tried to speak to you when they thought he couldn’t hear. He didn’t expect any of them to act on their whims unless they intended to lose their lives.

He hadn’t even noticed your presence beside him until he felt your fingers on the skin of his shoulder through his shirt, shifting his gaze towards you who was peering up at him. 

“Are you okay?”

The man’s eyes narrowed at you in the slightest, moving so that your faces were inches apart and he spoke in a hushed tone.

“The fuck did you do?” He questioned, tone short and mean. The look in his eyes had you scared and confused.

“I didn’t do anything.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not-”

“So, nothing happened while I was gone?”

Your next response wasn’t as quick, mouth opening for a few seconds, eye fleeting between the two blondes before you answered. “All I did was help Topper out because he was sad about Sarah. He said you’d be okay with it, that you’d suggested it even-”

“Suggested wh- what the fuck are you talking about?” Rafe’s face was twisted, tone scolding as if he was upset with a child.

“I don’t know, he just started touching me and saying all this stuff-”

You were cut off when the irritated blonde grabbed you by the arms, slightly shaking you. “Tell me what happened.” He spoke menacingly. “All of it.”

You tripped over your words before you got them out, the blonde boy on the couch paying no attention to you and Rafe as you explained how he’d coerced you into sex only hours before Rafe came back. Rafe listened intently as you told him about his best friend came into his house, sat on his couch, and fucked his girlfriend. And he couldn’t believe that he was still breathing. Couldn’t believe that he sat, laid back on his couch like nothing had happened.

Topper was always telling Rafe how you were just a pretty face and had nothing going on up top. Rafe usually told him off, not allowing him to demean you. He’d never thought his words had any deeper meaning.

“...And I showered after. Rafe, I didn’t think-”

“Yeah, you never think. That’s your problem.” He snapped under his breath, snatching himself away from you.

He knew you weren’t the brightest when it came to reading people. You weren’t an idiot or anything. You did well in school, you were academically gifted. But for some reason, when it came to socializing, you just weren’t there. You never caught on to sarcastic jokes, you didn’t know when people were flirting with you or using you. You were oblivious in that sense.

So when he looked back to see you with your head lowered, looking more shameful and upset than he’d ever seen you, he couldn’t help but sigh, using one hand to pull your head into his chest.

“I didn’t mean that, okay? It’s not your fault.” He felt your arms wind around his waist as your face buried into his shirt.

“I didn’t know. It felt wrong but he said you were okay with it. I’m sorry, I’m really sorry-”

“Shh, stop. I know, I know,” He cooed, pressing his lips to the top of your head. “Why don’t you go upstairs? Hm?” He pulled back, looking into your tearful eyes as you nodded, releasing your hold on one another before you made your way up the staircase, sparing a solemn look to Rafe before you disappeared.

Rafe eyed Topper who looked like he was struggling to ignore Rafe’s gaze burning into the side of his head. He didn’t know if he’d heard any part of your conversation but he could tell that the boy looked tense.

“Yo, Top?” Rafe called, back now turned as he inspected the kitchenware, eyes landing on the knife block before pulling out the chef’s knife. The object was swinging at his side as he turned back to face his friend. 

“Yeah?” He replied, letting his gaze find the man standing in the kitchen. Topper looked nervous, a bead of sweat on his hairline.

“I hope it was worth it.” He snapped at him. "'Cause I'm going to fucking kill you."

General taglist;@livlaughquinn 

JJ Maybank Taglist; @ronnieissupermegafoxyawesomehot @maybankslover 

Event Taglist; @timmytime17

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.

©loveharlow

#rafe outer banks #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x kook!reader #obx rafe #rafe cameron x fem!reader #drew starkey #drew starkey fanfiction #angstober23'

[shnk03]

INFORMACIÓN

Hi!

Tal vez esto quede en el olvido, pero quiero intentar llegar a más gente por aquí.

¡Hice mis propios Fictober/Flufftober/Angstober!

¿Es demasiado pronto para subirlos? SI, pero quiero que conforme pase las semanas (o meses), vayan llegando de a poco a la gente. Yo lo llamo una estrategia inteligente, aunque posiblemente no lo sea.

(espero que las etiquetas de abajo sirvan para eso)

En fin, aquí están:

Cualquiera que desee utilizarlos para escribir ¡está en libertad de hacerlo! solo que m gustaría que utilizaran las etiquetas correspondientes a cada uno, así puedo encontrarlos más fácil.

Cualquier duda que haya, pueden darla a conocer por aquí o por mi Wattpad (IndieGo0), donde soy más activo

¡Es todo, nos leemos en Octubre!

Recuerden que compartir es amar

#fictober #fictober2023 #october #octubre #fictober23 #angstober #flufftober #angst #fluff #flufftober23 #flufftober2023 #angstober2023 #angstober23

[loveharlow]

COMPANY POLICY

PAIRING‧₊˚ Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚  [2.7k] Caught red handed stealing from Cameron Development, Rafe Cameron's assistant finds herself in a sticky situation...

WARNING(S)‧₊˚  non-con/dub-con, smut, swearing, power play, blackmail, slight dom/sub dynamics, unprotected rough sex, allusions to pregnancy, cheating (?)

A/N‧₊˚ part of my angstober event!

˗ˏˋ rafe masterlist ˎˊ˗

YOU HELD YOUR ARMS CLOSE TO YOU AS YOU WALKED THE PATH UP TO THE COMPANY BUILDING — Cameron Development. It was midnight on the dot and the night air was chilly. Normally, you’d be in bed by this time, tired and exhausted after running errands for Rafe Cameron all day long with little to sometimes no break. Being his assistant wasn’t exactly anyone’s dream job, but it kept your lights on.

For some reason, the man had called you into the office, saying there was an issue that was urgent and had to be handled immediately. He had an edge to his voice, one that should've been your first warning to not walk into that building.

As you skipped up the steps to the building, still hugging yourself, you pushed the door open and followed the only light that was on down the hall. His office door was cracked and you could hear him mumbling to himself. Reaching the semi-open door, you pushed it open, the wood creaking as you did so.

“Mr. Cameron?” You called quietly, spotting his tall frame hovering over his desk — palms planted firmly on the wood and hair ruffled as his eyes ran wild over the small pile of papers on the desk. Your voice broke him out of his muttering daze as his eyes slowly rose to meet yours. His movements were slow and calm, his wild eyes meeting yours.

His movements were slow and calm, until they weren’t. Within seconds, he’d crumpled up the papers in his hands and rounded his deck to tower in front of you and grab your upper arm, bringing you impossibly closer. You could see him a lot more clearly now — he was visibly strung out and angry. 

You gasped at the rough contact, immediately trying to tug your arm away which only prompted the irate man to tug you closer. 

“What’re you-”

“How much?” He huffed out, infuriated. His jaw was clenched tightly.

You were sure you looked lost and confused, more scared than anything. Rafe had a knack for treating his employees like shit and you were no exception to his rage now, it seemed. But you’d never been at the receiving end of his abuse until this moment. It was frightening, to put it mildly.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about-”

“How much fucking money did you steal from me?” He gritted through his teeth. You stuttered to find the right words and he took that as a sign to continue berating you. He released his grip on you to uncrumple to documents he was holding, using one hand to push you against the wall behind you as the other practically shoved the printed matter in your face. “Five-hundred and twenty-six thousand...” He started, voice rising with each word. “Five-hundred and twenty-six THOUSAND dollars. That’s how much money has been withdrawn from my company and deposited into shell companies — companies that do not fucking exist!”

You looked away from him this time. You honestly didn’t think he’d find out. Or at least find out that it was you. Five-hundred thousand was pocket change compared to what he was bringing in yearly and Rafe was careless, so you didn't think he'd notice and if he did, you assumed you'd be able to lie on the spot. Clearly, you'd misjudged both him and yourself.

He’d put you in charge of the books when it became too much paperwork for him one day and you just happened to realize that your paycheck could’ve been much higher than what it was but you knew he’d never give you a raise. You’d worked with him for almost 2 years and had never even seen the chance of a promotion. Who was Rafe Cameron to acknowledge his employees or their efforts?

It wasn't like you'd taken it all at once. It was over the last couple months that you'd misplaced the funds into shell companies and collected it at later dates for your own personal gain.

“Suddenly she’s quiet.” He taunted, throwing the papers to the floor. “Look at me,” He demanded, but you refused. He took that as a sign to grab, more like yank, your chin in his direction. “Where’s my money?”

“It’s gone, most of its gone…” You muttered with tearful eyes, speech slurred due to how he had your cheeks pressed together. You weren't lying. You'd spoiled yourself with the money. Shopping, grocery runs, furniture...

“I trusted you. You think I’d let any of those lousy, dumbasses touch my assets? No. But clearly…clearly I made a lapse in judgment with you.” He reprimanded. “You’re a damn thief.” He spat as he let go of your face, so harshly it prompted some of your hair to obstruct your field of vision.

Your heart was racing like crazy. Your hands had been clawing at the wall he had you pinned to, eyes following his pacing frame. “I can pay it back. I’ll pay it all back-”

“Oh, I know you will.”  He scoffed darkly. “But clearly, your word can’t be taken for it so, I’m going to need… collateral.” Rafe sounded much less angry now. But his tone was still clouded with an air of darkness that made the hairs of the back of your neck stand up. Suddenly, he was in front of you again, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear — a much softer touch compared to the previous ones.

“Take your shirt off.”

You were dumbstruck, mouth falling open at his demand.

Surely, he couldn’t be serious.

“Mr. Cameron-” You tried.

“Sir.” He corrected.

“...Sir,” You repeated, taking the hint. “I have a husband. Not to mention, you’re my boss. I’m sure there’s another way-”

“There might be...” He cut you off, the knuckle of his index finger trailing down the length of your neck as he licked his lips before speaking again. “Unfortunately for you, I want to do it my way.” He rasped. “So, take your shirt off.”

This was wrong. On so many levels was this wrong. He was your boss — your sick, deranged boss. You may be a thief but this was ludicrous. Was the terror in your eyes not enough assurance for him?

You gulped as you looked into his eyes, letting a few beats pass before moving your shaking hands to the hem of your shirt, pulling the fabric over your head and hesitating to let it drop to the hardwood floors of his office. 

Rafe eyed the valley of your breasts that was revealed by your bra, a small smirk forming on his features at the sight. When one of his hands came up to cup one of them through the material, you couldn’t help but cringe slightly at the touch — it was foreign and it felt so… dirty. You wanted to just say fuck it and dash out of his office — shirtless and all. But you knew that would only cause more trouble — he’d ruin your credibility and career, destroy your marriage, and God knows what else.

So when the man used the hand that had been trailing your neck to untie your sweatpants, you stood as still as a statue and let him. The loose apparel falling easily to the ground, pooling around your ankles, leaving you half naked in front of your superior.

“I never took you for the criminal type, y’know…” He whispered into your ear. “I always thought you were so obedient. The things I thought about doing to you whenever you nod when I give you an order, watching you rush around the office in your skirts just to get whatever I need done finished…I never thought watching you do whatever I say would be so fun.” He cooed and you couldn’t help but feel trapped at this moment.

Just how long had Rafe been pining over you? You suddenly wondered if this was really collateral or just a way of getting something he’d always wanted.

Was it both?

The thought ran around in your mind as he roamed the length of your body — calloused hands outlining the curve of your ass, palm trailing over your clothed core. You didn’t even fully register when his thick fingers pushed the fabric of your panties to the side, one digit gathering the wetness that had gathered before being quickly pushed inside. You whimpered lowly at the intrusion, instinctively closing your legs but Rafe wouldn’t allow it, using his knee to hold your legs apart.

His lone finger poked and prodded at your g-spot, forcing light moans out of you that you tried your best to keep low. You hated the way your body responded to his touch — the faint squelching sound you could hear as he pumped his finger in and out of you. A lone tear rolled down your cheek, small whimpers escaping your lips before he harshly pulled his finger out of you and took a few steps back, allowing you to close your legs.

But the racing and thumping of your heart within your rib-cage didn’t stop there, tearful eyes watching as Rafe’s hands moved to his belt. The metal clanking against itself as he undid the object and abandoned it to the floor. 

In one swift motion, his entire demeanor changed as he grabbed the hair on your head that he could reach, practically ripping you off of the wall that you were clinging to. You yelped as the man did so, using your tresses as a makeshift leash, pulling your body towards his desk as you struggled not to trip over your pants that were still wound around your ankles. Using his deadly grip, he shoved your face into the wooden surface, swiping papers and office supplies out of his way.

You hissed the contact, a small ache blooming on your cheek as your own hands were planted on the wood as well in awkward position due to how he had you pinned down.

The hand in your hair never left your body as it trailed down to pin you against the slab by the back of your neck instead. Your body jerked as he used his free hand to force your panties down your legs, leaving the material wound around the middle of your thighs.

You don’t even know when he found the time to pull down his own pants during his manhandling, only starting to internally panic, realizing the weight of what was happening when you felt the warmth of his tip rub against your sex. You tried to wiggle out of his grip, causing yourself more pain the more you moved.

You pleaded with him through labored sobs as your fingers clawed at his work space, leaving faint white marks in your wake. You didn’t even know what you were saying — a string of useless pleas falling on deaf ears.

Your fighting only came to an abrupt stop when you felt his dick push past your entrance, biting down on your lip as a small pinching feeling radiated from in between your legs at the unwelcome intrusion. You felt every ridge and vein as he took his time settling within you. The man behind you let out a gruff groan while the hand he’d used to guide himself inside of you moved to capture your waist, pulling you further onto him.

When he pulled his hips back only to slam back into you, you couldn’t contain the watery scream you let out. It felt like he’d punched you in the throat, fucking into you as if you weren’t a living thing. You could feel each and every time the tip of his cock would hit your cervix, the desk beneath you bruising your abdomen with each forward thrust that slammed you against the wooden fixture.

"Please! I can't-"

"Shut up." He immediately cut off your protests, voice curt and nasty. "I don't wanna hear you speak."

Nothing about his movements were pleasurable. His grip on your waist had grown tighter, so tight that his short nails were digging into your skin, feeling like miniature knives against your side. The hand on your neck followed, squeezing the nape of it until you were gasping for air between each cry and shriek.

The sound of his skin slapping against yours, the feeling of his pelvis meeting the curvature of your ass with each thrust made your chest feel tight. You hated the way you could feel yourself clenching around him, a familiar sensation building in your lower half. 

Before you could even attempt to stop yourself, your hands were curling into tight fists as you came around him with a pitiful cry. But Rafe wasn’t done just yet, and you laid under him as he continued pounding into you at a borderline animalistic pace. The desk screeching against the floorboards after a particularly, brutal jolt. You were quickly becoming sensitive, the friction causing your clit to ache as a tingling sensation spreading throughout your body.

It was only a few moments before he rammed into you for the final time, his hips stilling as they pressed against your backside, the feeling of him spilling into you almost making you sick. He didn’t bother being quiet as he held you flush against him, making sure to empty himself completely with a few soft pumps into you afterwards, pulling out with not an ounce of care, eliciting a wince from you as he did so.

He roughly released both holds he’d had on you, not saying a word.

You could hear the rustling of fabric and his heavy breaths behind you as you gathered yourself mentally. You didn’t move, not an inch until you heard his voice again.

“Get up.” You sniffed. Not wanting to irritate the man any further, you used your arms to push yourself up to stand straight on shaky legs. You didn’t turn around as you carefully bent over and pulled your pants up, trying you hardest to ignore what you felt running down the inside of your thighs or the way the fabric of your underwear felt against your swollen clit.

All hopes of not having to look at the man who’d violated you were shattered as he rounded his desk to sit in front of you, planting himself in the chair as he opened the laptop that he was lucky hadn’t been thrown from the desk in the harsh turn of events.

You stood in front of him with your head down. You didn’t bother to wipe the tears from your face, fix your hair, or check for bruises that you were sure you had and would have to find some way to cover up. You just watched liked a punished child as he opened the device in front of him, typing and hyper focused on the screen. You wondered how he could be so unphased.

He was like that for a few passing moments until he’d seemingly gotten what he needed, pulling the USB drive from the side of the machine that you'd just noticed, leaning back in his chair as he fiddled with the small stick. His face was flushed red and his hair was all over the place.

“Do you know what this is?” He asked, out of breath but still managing to sound smug. You had an idea. But you hoped you were wrong. So, begrudgingly, you shook your head side to side. “It's our movie. I know it’s not the best angle because, well...” He motioned towards a corner of his office, prompting you to shift your sights in his line of sight, spotting a camera mounted in the corner, so small it was just barely visible but you knew from the placement it probably had a view of the entire space. Your heart dropped, slowly turning back to your boss to find him eyeing you with such a predatory gaze that it made you shudder.

“Don’t look so scared. No one else will see it, so long as you get my shit back.” He spat. “But I gotta admit,” He started, getting up from behind his desk and coming to stand next to you, his lips dangerously close to your ear. “Fucking you was much better than I ever imagined.”

His words had you choking back on your own saliva, swallowing harshly and refusing to look at him as you stared straight ahead with a disgusted snarl on your face. One of his hands swiped lightly across your torso as he left your personal space, opting to sit half-way perched on his desk. Fiddling and examining the memory stick like a prized possession before looking up at you with half-lidded eyes and an unsettling grin on his features before speaking.

“You can see yourself out.”

That was all you needed to hear before your feet were rushing you away from him, barely stopping to snatch your shirt up off of the floor before making a bee-line out of his office. You struggled to put your shirt on as you practically sprinted through the doors of the building so fast, you wouldn't be surprised if you had it on backwards, hot skin immediately bitten by the night air.

Your breathing never calmed as you rushed to your car, struggling to unlock the door, throwing yourself into the vehicle when you finally managed to. You sat there for a few seconds, staring ahead at the street and breathing like a mad woman before you lost all control — punching and slamming on your steering wheel, a long string of curses leaving your lips before you were bursting into tears, sleeve-covered hands coming up to cup your face as you cried into them. 

You hated yourself and you hated Rafe. You had nowhere to go from here. Rafe's words made it clear that you wouldn't be quitting any time soon and what the hell were you going to do about your husband? Rafe had a full length tape of you, bent over his desk as he did what he pleased and no matter what you knew happened in that office, Rafe had Kildare in the palm of his hand.

It didn't take a genius to know that Rafe Cameron would bend that video to his very will. This whole thing made you look bad, a thief and a cheater.

Your hysterics didn’t last long when you realized that even though you were in your car, that man was still just feet away. You’d still have to see him the very next day and every day after that, but right now you just wanted to go home and you didn’t even know if you really wanted to do that — to climb into bed with your husband who had no idea what had just happened, knowing not only that your future was tainted but technically, so was his. 

You didn’t waste any time in starting your car, nearly whipping into the curb at the speed at which you pulled off. Watching streetlights and stores pass by.

It wasn’t until you passed the pharmacy, bright neon red sign lit up in the dark, that you felt your stomach drop.

You’d been off birth control for months now, wanting to try for a baby with your husband.

And in the middle of the night, you found yourself praying that a loss of dignity and aching legs were the only things Rafe Cameron just sent you home with.

General taglist; @livlaughquinn 

JJ Maybank Taglist; @ronnieissupermegafoxyawesomehot @maybankslover 

Event Taglist; @timmytime17

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.

©loveharlow

#angstober23' #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron smut #obx rafe #rafe angst #rafe cameron x reader #drew starkey fanfiction #drew starkey #dark!rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x fem!reader #rafe cameron x female reader

[loveharlow]

'TIL DEATH

PAIRING‧₊˚  Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚  [2k] You realize just how unstable your summer fling turned boyfriend is...

WARNING(S)‧₊˚  swearing, murder, mentions of blood, mild crude humor, gaslighting, manipulation, co-dependency, violence, mentions of broken bones

A/N‧₊˚ part of my angstober event!

˗ˏˋ rafe masterlist ˎˊ

YOU STOOD IN SHOCK. Bewildered at the sight in front of you. No, no, that word wasn’t even enough to describe the pure terror your eyes were laid upon. You could feel the tips of your fingers shaking, your knees were weak, and tears burned the edge of your waterline.

He called your name as he attempted to step towards you but you cringed, folding in on yourself by an inch but enough for him to stop in his movements. “Don’t…” You started, your voice was meek and feeble, cracking under your emotions. “Don’t come near me.” You cried.

You were at some kook kickback in a cabin built in a clearing, it was someone's birthday. You had no idea whose. You wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for Rafe — your boyfriend. You’d gotten together with him during the early days of summer and it was the most unexpected thing of your life. You knew of him, of course you did. Who didn’t? But up until three months ago, you weren’t even sure he knew the first letter of your name. 

You’d had your fair share of fun — late night talks, car rides, food runs, sex. Lots of sex. He was your summer fling and you were actually starting to fall for him. Which is why you let him drag you out of your house tonight. Where parties appeared, Rafe followed. But you hated going to parties with Rafe. He’d always abandon you for a prolonged time and return to you only to be drunk or high. It wasn’t something you were fond of but you weren’t here to change anyone.

But maybe you should’ve been. 

When he’d disappeared this time, you went to get a drink for yourself, bumping into a random touron at the alcohol littered table. He complimented your dress and asked your name and you... entertained him for lack of better phrase. You couldn’t even call it flirting, you were just lonely and it was nice to talk to someone else at this party who didn’t know anyone either. After a few minutes of idle conversation, you excused yourself when you decided Rafe had been gone longer than usual.

You searched for him in the bathroom, the kitchen, even some of the bedrooms upstairs and still nothing. You sighed and sat your cup down God knows where, pulling down your mini dress where it rode up from your fast-paced wandering. You walked outside of the house and closer to the bulk of trees where the clearing became more of an actual forest, pulling your phone from your bra and pressing Rafe’s contact. Bringing the device to your ear as you wandered further into the tree-crowded area, you could’ve sworn you heard his phone ringing not too far from where you were standing. 

Your eyebrows pinched together in confusion when you heard leaves ruffling and after an abnormally short amount of rings, the call went to voicemail. You looked down at your phone, the small object your only good source of light. You called again, this time not bothering to put the phone to your ear, instead listening out to see if the ringing came again.

And it did, prompting you to edge further into the woods. “Rafe?” You called, softly but loud enough. Leaves and branches crunched under your heels, the shoes making it harder to navigate the thick terrain. The further in you went towards the ringing sound, you could hear frantic shuffling and a string of curses — someone was out here, that you knew for sure.

When you finally reached the source of the sound, it took you a moment to realize what exactly was going on. The first thing you saw was his face, a smile growing on your own, ready to ask why he was all the way out here. But you didn’t get that chance when he turned to look at you, revealing the blood splattered all across the left side of his face. You felt your smile drop and your eyes seemed to take in the scene before you in its entirety — Rafe kneeled on a pile of leaves, covered in blood with his hands clutching his phone that had long stopped making noise, and a body. An unmoving, non-breathing, beaten body not even a foot from where your boyfriend kneeled in the dirt. 

You didn’t even notice you had dropped your phone, not until you took a step back out of fear when Rafe rose to his feet, accidentally stepping on and breaking the device with your heel. 

He called your name as you slowly shook your head, you could hear your own heartbeat in your ears. You felt hot and cold at the same time, but more than anything you were terrified. 

“Hey,” He called, hands out in front of him as if that would quell your anxiousness. He was taking slow steps towards you. Your fight-or-flight kicked in on instinct as you made an attempt to turn the other way and make a run for it.

But he was much taller than you, his legs carried him greater distances. So needless to say, he caught up to you before you made it much of anywhere at all. His arms wrapped around you tightly from behind and you could feel the wetness and warmth of the blood on his hands smear across your arms.

“No! Get off of me! Get OFF! GET OFF!-”

“Stop, just listen-”

“Get your fucking hands off of me! HELP-”

“Stop it-”

“SOMEONE HELP ME-”

“Dammit! Shut up!” He yelled into your ear, jerking you around. Rafe clasped a bloody hand over your mouth, the smell and the little bit of the substance that hit your tongue making you want to vomit. You choked on your own sobs as he dragged you back to where the body laid lifeless on the soil. You couldn’t take your eyes off of it — clearly a guy from the haircut and the shoulders and you swore he looked familiar but you couldn’t see his face. You didn’t want to. 

You didn’t want to know who your boyfriend just murdered. 

You didn’t even fully register when Rafe released you from his grasp, just briefly, in order you pin your frame against the length of a tree. His hand still covered your mouth as you tried to calm yourself down, your sobs turning into never ending sniffles. Your own hands clawed at the bark of the tree as you tried to ground yourself.

“I’m going to move my hand, alright?” Rafe started, his eyes running wild. “If you scream, I’m going to hurt you. And I don’t want to hurt you, so…” He trailed, making sure you understood what he was alluding to. Slowly, he removed the hand covering your mouth, the skin that was covered going cold in the night air from the blood that was no doubt smeared across your face.

At this realization, you wiped at your face like a mad woman, only stopping when you realized the blood was now on your hands. A dead man’s blood was on your hands. Your gaze snapped to Rafe’s, then the body, then to Rafe again. Your breaths were heavy and labored. You were scared. And angry. And disgusted.

“What the fuck did you do?!”

“Keep your voice down.”

“Keep my- keep my voice down?” You hissed. He was too calm — and it angered you. It made you want to kill him. Your hands balled into fists as Rafe just stood there, a hand in his hair but he didn’t look stressed or worried. Truthfully, he looked annoyed. “Is he…” 

Rafe sighed and turned to look at you like an idiot. “Oh, he’s just taking a nap.” He spoke with no humor in his voice. “Yes, he’s dead. You think he’s resting? In the middle of the woods? And what, using his blood as a blanket to keep himself warm-”

“Don’t talk to me like some kind of child. I didn’t kill someone-”

“You did, though.” He chuckled. "Oh, but you did." You narrowed your eyes at him, silently waiting for him to elaborate. “I saw you. Flirting with him, giggling at whatever dumbass lines he was feeding you-”

“Oh my God!” You couldn’t help but laugh. Nothing was funny but you couldn’t stop laughing. You folded in on yourself, laughing until your laughs turned to sobs. Angry sobs. Shooting back up to your full height, you charged at Rafe. Pushing his shoulders so hard he stumbled back. “You…stupid…fucking…” You cursed in between each assault. Pushing him until he’d had enough and ceased your wrists. “Are you fucking kidding me? I can handle the coke, okay?” You started, the terror you felt before creeping back into your veins as he eyed you down but you kept talking anyway, no matter how shaky your voice got. “I can handle the coke a-and the alcohol and the fighting. But you just killed someone for talking to me. Do you realize how deranged that is?”

“He isn’t the first.”

…

“What?”

“The dweeb on the ground? He isn’t the first person I’ve killed for you.” The way he spoke with such disgust for an innocent being and endearment for his actions sent a chill down your spine. He said it like killing someone for you was a gift to you.

You knew Rafe wasn’t the most stable individual — in between the good moments, he had some incidents this summer. Fights and squabbles here and there. But you never thought he could hurt someone like this.

“...You need help.” You started, the tears rolling again as you tried to pull yourself out of his grip. You were shaking your head vigorously as you spoke. “You’re insane. You’re crazy!”

Rafe attempted to quiet your cries, opting for his hands to roughly cradle your face now, wiping your tears away. He was shushing you and trying to pull you in closer to him but you wouldn’t allow it. Eventually, the push-and-pull caused you both to fall onto the ground and unfortunately, you had landed partially on top of the dead man’s hand, hearing his bones crush under the impact.

Your head snapped to his now oddly shapen wrist and you let out a gut-wrenching scream and frantically crawled away from the body. Rafe wouldn’t let you get far, though. He was right back in front of you, rubbing your arms while you sobbed.

“It’s okay..” He tried to soothe.

“It’s not! It’s not okay!” You bawled, slapping his hands away. “You’re a bad person, Rafe…” You whimpered, just speaking at this point. You were too emotionally disarranged to even know what to do anymore. You couldn’t run, you couldn’t take Rafe down. 

So, in your weak state, you let him embrace you. The action alone made you want to puke. The way he comforted you was so casual, like any other time he’d comforted you for small things. In his mind, this would pass. You’d forget about it and you and him would be fine again. And maybe, in some sick way, you might have to be. You were no stranger to how the law barely existed for the Cameron’s in Kildare.

If you walked into the Sheriff’s Department and told them Rafe Cameron had murdered a man, they’d probably believe you but wouldn’t do a thing about it. Because his last name holds more weight than gold in this town.

“I’ll hide his body and then we’ll get out of here,’kay?” He spoke with his forehead now pressed against yours. When he got no response, he pulled back and grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look at him. He didn’t look as caring now. He looked cold. And his voice matched the canvas. “Stop crying.” He spat. “You can either sit here and whine, covered in blood or you can pull yourself together while I get rid of him. Do you understand?” He spoke harshly. You weakly nodded, a response that satisfied him enough. 

When he stood up, he called your name once more. “If you even try to run, I’ll make sure that’s the last thing you ever do.”

General taglist; @livlaughquinn

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.

©loveharlow

#angstober23' #obx rafe #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x fem!reader #rafe cameron x female reader #drew starkey #drew starkey fanfiction #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #rafe cameron x kook!reader #dark!rafe cameron x reader

[loveharlow]

DANCING WITH YOUR GHOST

PAIRING‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚  [2.3k] After a violent run in with Rafe and his guys, the group of Pogues is left with one less member, leaving a void in the heart of a certain blonde

WARNING(S)‧₊˚  swearing, death/murder, mentions of blood, mild violence, mentions of hallucinating, grief, mentions of a funeral, general angst

PROMPT‧₊˚ " 'cause our love is a ghost that the others can't see, it's a danger."

A/N‧₊˚ part of my angstober event!

˗ˏˋ jj masterlist ˎˊ˗

YOU FELT THE PAIN BEFORE ANYTHING ELSE. You felt the pain in your abdomen before you felt the familiar warmth of JJ’s hands on your waist as he caught you before you hit the ground. You felt the blood coating the lower half of your body before you heard Kie’s earth-shattering scream. You heard yourself make a gurgling sound as a metallic, repulsive taste filled your mouth. You tried to speak, your big and pleading eyes drifting to your five friends above you. You couldn’t understand why they all looked so sad, so worried.

Their voices were like distant chatter in your ears, barely there. It sounded like they were underwater but you felt like you were the one drowning. Your vision was going in and out, the act of making out their faces getting harder by the second. 

Kiara was crying hysterically, hands over her mouth as tears cascaded freely from her eyes. She looked like she was struggling to catch her breath between cries. John B looked dumbstruck, standing so still you questioned if he was even a living thing at that moment. Pope was clearly discomposed but there was an undertone of anger in his stance, tears in his eyes but his fists balled so tightly. Sarah sported a quivering lip, muttering what sounded like ‘sorry’ over and over.

JJ was closest to you, on his knees as you finally registered the feeling of his hands pressing on your torso. He was sobbing, talking a mile a minute and you had not even a small clue as to what he may have been saying.

The drama between Rafe, his crew, and your friends had come to a head tonight when the two groups came across one another in the woods — harsh words exchanged, insults thrown. It just kept escalating. You had a gut feeling something would go wrong.

Rafe threw the first punch, clocking John B in the jaw. Everything after was a blur — punches thrown, knuckles split, and then the cocking of a gun rang out. No one knew why none of you expected Rafe Cameron to pull out a gun.

And why no one expected him to use it.

All you could really recall was Topper, the loyal lap-dog he is, trying to calm the erratic blonde down as he waved the firearm recklessly. He failed, nevertheless, Rafe falling into a spiral while wielding the gun as if it was a toy. 

Everyone flinched when it went off, ducking beneath their own arms. 

You don't know exactly what happened or how it happened. You just knew that, suddenly, you were hot. You felt frozen in time and a fire seemed to spread from the center of your being and you felt everyone’s eyes turn to you. You caught Rafe’s eye, watching as Topper and Kelce pulled him away and the three of them disappeared into the thick of the woods.

When your mind had finally caught up to your body, only then did you realize the stray bullet had found its home in you. You went into a panic at the realization, attempting to sit up, only to be met with a harsh, burning pain that had you shrieking. Somehow, that pain cleared your senses — allowing you to hear the voices of your friends and see them clearly now. The downside being that you were now all too aware of your wound and the blood spilling from your mouth.

“Hey, hey, look at me,” It was JJ talking, your eyes slowly drifting towards him. “Don’t try to talk o-or move, okay? W-we’re gonna get an ambulance and you’re gonna be fine.” He spoke nervously, tears trailing down his chin. “You’re going to be fine.”

Unable to speak, you nodded unsteadily, trying to focus on breathing. Everything felt so hard to do, things that should've come naturally. Your whole body hurt and ached. Your airways felt congested and you had no way to clear them. Your hands were fisting the dirt in reaction to the searing pain you felt.

The blood pooling in your throat became too much at some point, you began to cough mercilessly, the crimson substance splattering from your lips, coating JJ’s shirt. 

“No, no, no...” The blonde began to panic. “Sarah! Where’s the ambulance?!” He yelled, startling the petrified girl who clutched her phone in her hands.

“I don’t know, I-”

“You don’t know?!”

“I don’t know! There’s no service, no one is answering-” She panicked, shoulders stuck in an upwards position showing just how uncomfortable she was. A part of her felt guilty, as she always did for the actions of her brother.

“You didn’t think to say anything five minutes ago?!” Pope roared at her.

“We’re all scared, guys! Give her a break-” John B tried to defend.

“My girlfriend is bleeding out because of her psycho brother, John B! I don’t give a shit about how scared she is!” You were still hacking up blood clots as the group argued, doing nothing to remedy the situation. You felt like your chest was caving in on itself. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I'm trying.” JJ apologized, voice wavering under the self-imposed pressure to keep you alive.

“I got it! Someone answered- hi, hello?” Kie announced, still distraught but more level-headed as moments passed, allowing the fog in her mind to clear.

JJ cooed, trying to calm your coughing fit. “I can’t turn her on her side without taking my hands off of the wound but she’s coughing, guys, I don’t think she can breathe.” JJ rambled and ranted as Kie remained on the phone. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do! Guys!” His voice then went underwater again and your vision clouded over once more.

You didn’t know if you were still regurgitating blood, you didn’t know anything. All you knew was that your eyelids were forcing themselves shut and the pain you once felt started to dissipate into nothing as everything fell behind a blanket of warmth and darkness. 

You felt everything until you felt nothing.

By the time the ambulance had arrived, you'd gone still. Paler than anyone had ever seen you with blood coating every inch of your frame. The pogues had to hold JJ to let the EMT’s load your body onto the stretcher and into the truck.

Dead on arrival, was what they told the pogues. They'd managed to regain your pulse on the drive to the hospital but it was lost again just two minutes before you were barrelled the doors and handed off to the doctors.

Your friends were crowded into a far corner in the waiting room when the doctor came out, a solemn yet professional look plastered on the man’s face as he explained that there was nothing they could do, that you’d lost too much blood. It was quiet for a few beats, then Kiara broke down, Sarah following. John’s B face fell into his hands and Pope cried silently. JJ had stormed off, angry and heartbroken. He was emotional beyond belief and the only thing he could think as he marched out of the Kildare County Hospital was that he couldn’t be the one to face your parents knowing he couldn’t do anything to save their daughter.

YOUR FUNERAL ONLY MADE JJ ANGRIER. It was held not too long after you passed, only a couple weeks after the incident that had taken your life in the first place. Rafe went MIA but no one outside of the people there that night knew he was the one who’d killed you, anyway. Topper and Kelce’s lips were sealed and the pogues were too stuck in their own bubbles of grief to even want revenge against him just yet. 

But that wasn’t why JJ stood with a stormy expression as a semi-circle was formed around your coffin. He was angry because none of this was what you would’ve wanted. There were dozens of people there — kids from school who never even knew you, local shop owners who’d only seen you a handful of times. Sure, they should be able to give their condolences but you wouldn’t have wanted them here, feeding your parents empty apologies and whispering about how ‘such a nice girl could’ve met such an untimely end’.

Needless to say, he didn’t stay long. Your mother and father had tried to talk to him, see how he was doing but it’d been weeks and he still couldn’t face them. In his mind, he’d failed to protect their child.

JJ’S ROOM AT THE CHATEAU WAS CROWDED AND STUFFY. He hadn’t left the space much in the last couple weeks and John B was beginning to worry. Through the locked door, he could hear JJ rewatching old videos of you both, listening to your voicemails on repeat, and he was fairly sure that the boy still texted your phone and looked through your social media. The accounts that your parents hadn't known about and taken down anyway. John B had to slide food under his door just to make sure he ate.

But what worried him the most were the late nights that he’d hear mumbling and realized at some point that JJ was talking to you, or at least what he thought was you.

It was close to midnight and JJ sat on his bed, a plate with a sandwich still sitting in front of his bedroom door. It was probably warm by now. 

“You have to eat something.” The all too familiar voice of your ghost, or whatever it was, rang out in the staleness of JJ's room.

“I will.” He spoke. His face was red and raw from crying.

“You should probably shower, too.”

“I will.” 

“You can’t go on like this, JJ-”

“I know that!” The blonde shouted. “You think I don’t know that, Y/N?” He scoffed, pushing himself up off of his bed harshly and pacing around the small space. He’d been 'talking to you' for the last couple of days now. His brain not allowing him to process your death properly, wanting you alive and back in his arms so badly that he’d started seeing you — hallucinating you. He was scared at first, then he was relieved but now he just wanted you to go away because he knew you weren’t real.

The shadow of you that appeared in the same corner of his room every night was not you. It was the memory of you that his mind had conjured up. You looked like a person, like yourself. You looked so real, like if he reached his hand out to touch you he'd feel skin but he wouldn't. He tried the first time you appeared. He didn't care that you looked exactly the same way you did the night you died, blood stains and all. It sounded like you and looked like you. It talked like you, it made the same facial expressions as you and at first that was enough. But he knew that it wasn’t you.

“I’m not trying to upset you.”

JJ ran his hands down his face. “Why can’t you just go away?” He asked despondently. He didn’t know if he meant it. Sometimes, your phantom presence could be comforting. Other times, it was just another haunting realization of the fact that he’d never be able to hold you again. “You make me feel like I’m losing my mind. I already let you die and I have to live with that. Do I have to live with your ghost lingering in the corner of my room now, too?”

“You didn’t let me die.”

“I did.”

“No, you didn’t, JJ. I was shot. You did everything you could.”

“I didn’t do enough-” He claimed angrily.

“You did your best. You all did your best-”

“Then my best was not enough! We didn’t do enough!” He yelled, kicking the plate with the uneaten sandwich against the wall, watching as the plate shattered. He was breathing heavily as he fell to his knees, sliding against the wall. “Two minutes…” He mumbled. “All you had to do was hold on for two more minutes and they could’ve saved you.”

“You don't know that. I was in pain, JJ.” He hated how unreal your voice sounded. It was yours, the pitch and all, but it echoed and reverberated through the room as if you were in a chapel. “I was dead the minute that bullet went through me. Those were two minutes I never had.”

“You don’t know that.” He sobbed, curling up on himself. “I needed you. I still need you. And you left me.”

“I’m sorry. I didn't want to.”

“You're always sorry- will you stop apologizing?!” He shouted tearfully. “It’s not your fault.”

“But you blame me.”

“I blame myself. I don’t blame you, I could never blame you.”

“But you said-”

“I know what I said! But I don’t know what I’m saying, okay?!” He bellowed. “Please, please, just go away. I want to be alone. So, go away.” When he was met with no ghost-like response, he looked up to find your corner of his room empty. He let his head fall to his knees, his arms wrapped around them.

He sat like that, crying into his own arms until he fell asleep.

“YOU CAN’T KEEP DOING THIS!” John B’s voice bellowed in the living room of The Chateau as he trailed behind JJ who’d come out of hiding. The shaggy-haired boy hadn’t gotten any real sleep with JJ incessantly arguing with your ghost every night. He understood his friend was grieving but clearly his gentle approach was only encouraging his best friend’s delusions.

“What do you want me to do?” JJ barked back, the two boys now inches apart but still speaking at boisterous volumes.

JJ was well aware that John B knew of his odd and off-putting coping mechanism. He felt bad that his friend, more like brother, had to endure his grief on top of his own. He truly did. Everyone was still grieving you in their own way.

Kie had created a memorial table for you at The Wreck with her father's permission, a table that guest would never sit or eat at. Purely there to collect gifts and memorabilia.

Pope has become hyper-focused on repairing his academic profile, knowing you wanted nothing more than for him to gain back the scholarships he'd lost over the summer. You were his motivation.

Sarah had been distant. She felt partially guilty for what happened, despite the constant reassurance that she and Rafe were two different people. She visited your grave the most, a product of her deep-rooted guilt.

John B had carved your initials into the tree in his backyard, along with the signature 'P4L' to end it off. He'd even moved everything you'd ever left at his house - sweaters, blankets, socks, into the room where he kept all of his father's things. He figured you could both rest in peace together. Big John did always like you.

So, JJ was truly sorry that he couldn't pull himself together but he figured John B would be more understanding. He didn't know that John B had been as understanding as possible.

“You’re feeding into it! I get that you’re grieving, okay? But this has gone too far, man.”

“You don’t get it.”

“No, JJ, you don’t get it. She’s gone. She’s been gone.”

That struck a hard nerve in JJ. He knew you were gone. But he didn't like to hear it. He hated every variation of it. Gone. Passed Away. Dead. Deceased. Resting. He hated them all.

“Shut up.” JJ gritted through his teeth, but tears were brimming in his eyes.

“She’s dead. She’s been dead for almost two months-”

“Shut up!” The blonde yelled, pinning the brunette to the nearest wall. John B knew this was probably good for him, so he put up no fight.

In JJ's mind, John B just didn't get it and he never would. JJ loved your ghostly presence when he was crying so hard that he couldn't breathe and your voice would ring out, reminding him that you loved him and that you'd see again some day. But he didn't like it so much when that same voice was encouraging him to get up and take care of himself, or reminding him that the day he pulled himself together was when you would be gone for good, ghost and all. Because then he wouldn't need you anymore.

“You need to let her go.” Was the last thing John B said before JJ stared him down like a sad but feral dog. It was seconds that felt like minutes then the blonde released his friend and stormed back into his room, slamming the door behind himself.

He was sick of John B. He was sick of everyone. JJ knew he wasn’t grieving well but he didn’t know how he was supposed to.

He didn’t want to visit your grave, declining when the rest of the pogues extended the invite. They went weekly, replacing the flowers and plush animals each time.

He didn’t want to face your parents who’d been requesting his presence at the house he’d frequented plenty of times. 

He didn't want to go to school. The pitiful looks he'd receive from classmates who previously saw him as nothing but trouble. Your locker had been bombarded with cards, stuffed animals, and pictures. God, he hated the pictures. They were all pictures of you with other people, usually the person who hung them up. 'Hey, look! I was sort of friends with the dead girl!' To him it was all false grief, people using your death as some kind of sick icebreaker.

'Did you hear about what happened to that girl? It's so sad.'

'She was so young. It could've been any one of us, y'know?'

He'd burn that locker to ashes if he could.

But the final crack in the glass came when he laid himself out on his bed, still heated and furious, typing out a text message to you about how much of an asshole John B was. Unexpectedly, when he pressed send on this message...

The bubble turned green.

It was a harsh realization, the boy freezing in place for a moment and before he knew it, JJ hurled his phone at the wall. Conveniently, in the same corner you always appeared in.

Through his rage, however, he noticed something on the floor in the corner that he hadn't before in all the times he'd conversed with you. Swiftly walking towards it and snatching up the object, he was brought down from his anger when he realized it was a photo of you and him that he thought he'd lost months ago. He'd planned to frame it but never got around to doing so.

It had him balling violently in seconds, John B coming in hesitantly at the sound of his borderline horrific cries and rubbing his best friends back as he sobbed, clutching the photo to his chest.

You were gone.

And he had to let you go. He didn't know how to and he didn't want to. But he knew he had to.

General taglist; @livlaughquinn 

JJ Maybank Taglist; @ronnieissupermegafoxyawesomehot @maybankslover 

Event Taglist; @timmytime17

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.

©loveharlow

#Spotify #angstober23' #jj maybank x you #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank #obx jj #jj maybank x reader #jj mayback imagine #jj mayback x reader #rudy pankow x reader #rudy outer banks #rudy pankow #jj maybank smut #obx jj x reader #obx netflix #obx

[loveharlow]

Happy Angstober my lil' monsters! This is my first ever event and I am too excited. It's only fifteen days long because I cannot pump out thirty-one full fics but there are five little blurbs included too. This mainly focuses on the OBX guys with a couple of special appearances.

My inbox is CLOSED for requests for the duration of this event (Oct. 1st - Oct. 30th), which means a new post every 2 days (hopefully).

Everything written for this event can be found under the hashtag #angstober23', as well as in my masterlist for each character shortly after the event is over.

general warnings ‧₊˚ smut, dark themes, detailed warnings will be added to each work

CANDY BARS !

Day 1 (Oct. 1st) — Til Death (Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader)

Day 2 (Oct. 3rd) — Dancing With Your Ghost (JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader)

Day 3 (Oct. 5th)— Company Policy (Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader)

Day 4 (Oct. 9th) — Sinemies (Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader)

Day 5 (Oct. 15th) — Live Bait (Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader)

Day 6 (Oct. 18th) — Somebody's Watching Me (JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader)

Day 7 (Oct. 19th) — Rock-a-bye, Baby (Thomas (TMR) x Fem!Reader)

Day 8 (Oct. 21th) — Love Me Back (Pope Heyward x Fem!Reader)

Day 9 (Oct. 23th) — Like A Fiddle (Mattheo Riddle x Fem!Reader)

Day 10 (Oct. 25th) — On Your Hands (Pope Heyward x Fem!Reader)

FUN SIZE TREATS !

Feeding Grounds (Oct. 26th) — Stiles Stilinski x Fem!Reader

Countdown (Oct. 27th) — JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

It's Not You (Oct. 28th) — JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

You Should Go (Oct. 29th) — Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader

Ghost of You (Oct. 30th) — Thomas (TMR) x Fem!Reader

General taglist; @livlaughquinn 

JJ Maybank Taglist; @ronnieissupermegafoxyawesomehot @maybankslover 

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.

©loveharlow

#angstober23' #obx fanfiction #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #jj maybank smut #jj maybank x reader #pope heyward smut #pope heyward x reader #harry potter fanfiction #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x fem!reader #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x fem!reader #theo nott x reader #theo nott x fem!reader #thomas tmr x reader #stiles stilinski x reader

[loveharlow]

SOMEBODY'S WATCHIN' ME

PAIRING‧₊˚ Ghostface!JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚  [1.4k] Waiting around for your boyfriend to show up for movie night, you get an unexpected call

WARNING(S)‧₊˚  swearing, mild violence, betrayal, mild sexual references, i've never written ghostface!jj and im not too well versed in the ghostface franchise myself so let me know what you think

*based on thriller (mj) and somebody's watching me (rockwell)

A/N‧₊˚ part of my angstober event!

˗ˏˋ jj masterlist ˎˊ˗

YOU WERE POURING THE LAST OF THE POPCORN INTO THE BOWL, KERNELS CLANKING AGAINST THE DISH. It was halloween, your favorite time of year, and also the night of your annual movie marathon with your boyfriend, JJ. He was running a little behind, per usual.

You had the first movie all queued up, your halloween themed blanket draped across the sofa while you poured up the drinks and dished the snacks in the kitchen. Your parents were gone for the night and the pogues had opted themselves out, wanting to give you and JJ space as a couple. 

You were walking carefully towards the living room, balancing the bowl and cans of soda in your hands when the house phone rang. You rolled your eyes, assuming it was your overbearing parents who wanted to make sure you were alright in the house alone. Carefully placing the items on the coffee table, you made your way over to the half-wall that separated the kitchen and living area, answering the ringing device.

“Hello?”

“Home all alone?” A robotic yet deep voice reverberated on the other end. You rolled your eyes, automatically assuming it was just your goof of a father who loved a cheesy halloween prank.

“Ha ha, dad. I’m not a kid anymore, y'know. You can’t trick me,” You stated nonchalantly, expecting to hear his defeated old-man laughter on the other side. “I will admit, your ghostface voice has gotten better.” You joked, trotting back into the living room, tossing a warm, popcorn kernel into your mouth.

“How’d you know I had a daddy kink?” You paused, face falling from its humorous demeanor in the slightest of motions. With the out-of-character and inappropriate joke, you quickly came to the realization that whoever was on the other end of the phone wasn’t your father.

“Who the hell is this?”

“What? You've never seen a scary movie before?”

“I've seen enough to know that this joke is overplayed. So, whoever you are, go back to jerking off in your mom’s basement-”

“What about your basement?” The unknown individual cut you off. Now your face was pulled tight, an expression of anger as you shifted from holding the phone between your cheek and shoulder to pressing into your ear with your hand, eyes fleeting to the open windows, which were closed but all the blinds were wide open.

The way your eyes scanned the open space made it seem like the room spun around you, eyes squinting as you tried to look through every window at once, only catching glances of children trick or treating.

Just then, you heard something clatter — like a broom hitting the floor. And you could’ve sworn it came from downstairs.

Fight-or-Flight kicking in, you didn’t bother to investigate and instead bolted up the stairs in hopes of reaching your room. When you made it to the top of the staircase, however, you saw a tall shadow pass by, silhouette plastered on the wall as light shone through the windows upstairs, stopping you in your tracks so fast you nearly stumbled backwards.

Your eyes went wide, a deep gasp leaving your lips as you made a sharp turn right back down the stairs, backing yourself into the closest corner.

“Show’s over, if this is Pope or John B, you know JJ's gonna kill you-” You breathed, voice trembling but anger still evident. “This isn’t funny.”

“I’m not holding this knife to make you laugh, sweetheart.”

You could feel your heartbeat just a little faster at his statement. “I’ll call the cops.”

“You can’t do that without hanging up and trust me, you don’t want to hang up.”

Your eyes were darting all over the first floor of your home, hands subconsciously grasping at the wall you had your back pressed against, undoubtedly leaving marks in your wake. You couldn’t help but wonder where the hell JJ was, praying for him to burst through the door at any moment.

The door. The damn door. You realized you were right next to the front door. So, why the hell were you still in the house? 

One last glance at the top of the staircase had you throwing all caution to the wind, hand gripping and twisting the knob only to find that the door wouldn’t budge. You'd unlocked it, the direction the keyhole assuring you of that. You tugged and pulled and yanked, all to no avail. How did you manage to get locked inside of your own house?

“It’s scary being alone with a killer, isn’t it?” A voice whispered right next to your unoccupied ear, your heart practically jumping out of your chest when you realized the voice was clear and less eerie and automated, and also...no longer coming from the phone.

Your head snapped to the side, coming face to face a beat up ghostface mask, the phone in your hand clattering to the floor as you just narrowly dodged his arm when he slung it towards your head, ducking under the attack and nearly tripping over your feet as you made a b-line for your kitchen.

You ruined the house in your trail — throwing chairs, stools, and end tables behind you in desperate attempts to slow him down. 

You didn’t even realize you were screaming as you ran. 

You yelped as you hit your foot on the leg of a display in the hall, slipping and sliding on the hardwood as you never slowed in your pace.

You spotted your fathers work study door open, feet carrying you faster, ignoring the aching pain in your foot, as you made the room your destination. Making it into the space, you turned around to slam and lock the door, not missing the glance you caught of the man running after you. You felt his body collide with the other side of the wood as soon as you had it shut and latched, presumably throwing himself against it and you held it shut even though it was locked.

Your breaths were shaky and quivering, tears flying down your cheeks. After a few seconds, the thudding on the other side stopped. But you weren’t dumb enough to open the door again. The only thing on your mind was getting out of this god forsaken house. 

Spotting the one window in your father’s office, you looked down at the doorknob to ensure it was still locked before bolting over to the opening, prying the glass up and climbing out. Stepping out, one foot at a time, you looked to your left and right once you were completely outside of the window. The night air was humid and chilly, leaving you feeling damp and cold in nothing but a tank-top and pajama pants.

If you could make it to your neighbor’s house, you could call your parents. You just prayed to whatever higher power there was that they were home, better yet awake, considering their old age. 

You wasted little time in pondering however, sock-clad feet running through your yard in the direction of your neighbor's house that was a straight-shot across the street. Your feet had just hit the curb when you felt an arm engulf your frame from behind, the person’s other hand covering your mouth, muffling your screams as they dragged you right back behind the house, out of sight of any passersby that may have seen you.

Even with the hand over your mouth, you continued to kick and flail within their grip, managing to headbutt them in the jaw and drop you to the grass. The unexpected drop left you face down on the damp grass, scrambling to stand up and get away only for your ankles to be grabbed as they pulled you back.

When the aggressor managed to flip your relentless figure on your back, you were met with the sight of the mask once again as the man stood over you. You were lying on your back between his legs before he kneeled, practically straddling you.

Only then did you realize your hands were free, eyes fleeting between your hands and the mask before you were reaching up, basically palming the object and tearing it off, revealing a head full of blonde hair and a crooked, sadistic smile.

You weren’t even sure what your expression looked like.

“JJ?” You mumbled, letting the mask fall to the grass beside you. You could feel your entire body shaking. You didn’t know how to feel — Should you be relieved? Was this just a joke he took too far? Should you be terrified?

You normally would never assume JJ would hurt you but considering the fact that he’d just chased you through your entire house burned that argument to ashes. It didn’t help that he had this look in his eyes as he stared down at you — one you could only describe as unhinged.

You barely registered his next movements, as swift as they were — the way he pulled a decent sized knife from his sleeve in the blink of an eye. He twirled the object as the moonlight bounced off of the surface of it, you could see little spots littered across it. Little spots that almost looked like dried blood. He examined it, licking his bottom lip.

“You like it?” He spoke admiringly, watching the weapon glisten as if it were just a sight to see while you were laid petrified underneath him. You felt like you had just met a whole new person.

You still laid frozen still when he brought the object down to press it lightly against your throat, just enough for you to feel the coolness of it and how sharp it was. His dark gaze left the object to meet your wide eyes.

“It’s almost as pretty as you.”

General taglist; @livlaughquinn 

JJ Maybank Taglist; @ronnieissupermegafoxyawesomehot @maybankslover 

Event Taglist; @timmytime17

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.

©loveharlow

#angstober23' #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jj maybank x fem!reader #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank fluff #jj mayback x reader #obx jj x reader #jj maybank x you #jj maybank imagine #obx jj #jj mayback imagine

[loveharlow]

SINEMIES

PAIRING‧₊˚  Rafe Cameron x Kook!Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚  [2.8k] Returing to Kildare after years away, your mentality may have changed but you still have some old habits...

WARNING(S)‧₊˚  swearing, mild p*rn without plot but the plot was fun to write, smut

A/N‧₊˚ part of my angstober event!

˗ˏˋ rafe masterlist ˎˊ˗

A COMPACT MIRROR WAS HELD UP TO YOUR LIPS AS YOU TOUCHED UP YOUR LIPS, blotting them together before clamping the small object shut. You could feel the car finally come to a halt before the driver turned to face you.

“We’ve arrived, miss.” He announced, tone chipper and bright as always. You pulled a neatly folded one-hundred dollar bill from your bra and held it out to him, watching as he took the bill as humbly as possible.

“Thank you, Martin.” You thanked your personal driver, the man who had fathered you possibly more than your own, who was always gone on 'business'. Business being running around sleeping with women who were half his age and sipping Martini’s in a hot tub on a skyscraper rooftop 500 miles away. 

“My pleasure. You stay safe now.” He insisted, raising a brow as you offered a smile and reached for the handle. 

“Will do. Have a nice night.” You bid farewell as you swung the door of the sleek, black vehicle open, taking extra care to make sure your legs were never too far apart as you stepped out. The dress you picked out was just brushing what was considered ‘business casual’. You held your matching clutch close to your side and tried your best to ignore the way your heels made the arches of your feet ache. 

Wiggling your fingers at the man behind the wheel, you shut the door and watched as the car drove away. Turning your attention to the house you hadn’t seen in years and honestly hoped to never see again. The Cameron Residence was practically a historical landmark in Kildare. The house hadn’t aged in the years you’d been gone — walking out of it as a heartbroken eighteen year old girl and walking the path up to the door as a refined twenty-two year old woman. 

You could hear the low, classical music playing and the faint chatter of the guests inside. Shadows passing by as silhouettes in front of the curtains, the only lights that were on being on the first level of the home. 

You wasted no time, even in your careful observing, in taking strides towards the front door which would undoubtedly be unlocked, walking carefully as to not trip over your feet and make a fool of yourself. 

When your hand touched the doorknob, pushing open the only structure keeping you from the rest of the party, it was like stepping into a new reality. It was a reality you’d left behind in exchange for college campus life, which was more homey. More comforting and cozy, it kept you grounded. 

This reality was superficial, so superficial it nauseated you like never before. Art pieces on the white walls that cost way too much money and had no real meaning, sports trophies that were bought with wealth statuses and daddy’s money littered amongst coffee tables and mantelpieces. 

But you’d only have to suffer a couple hours and get what you came here for.

“You made it!” A voice beamed close to your ear, turning to see Sarah Cameron walking speedily in a pair of heels and a cream colored silk dress. Her arms were up as she made a b-line in your direction, a genuine smile falling across your face. You adored Sarah. She was probably one of the most genuine people who ever lived on Figure Eight. 

She embraced you tightly, swaying side to side as she did. “Oh, I missed you. We have so much to catch up on!” She gushed, releasing you from her grasp to grab a hold of your wrist instead. “Everyone’s in the backyard. C’mon, they’ve been waiting for you.” The ecstatic blonde girl gave you no time to greet her back or return her affections as she dragged you through the crowd of middle-aged business men and women. 

Stepping into the backyard where circular tables were set up with white tablecloths, candles placed perfectly in the middle of each one. It wasn’t long before your eyes landed on them all standing around one of the set ups. And it wasn’t long before they spotted you too, waving you and Sarah both over.

When you came to a stop in front of them as Sarah released your arm, you were pulled into another embrace by Ward himself. “Oh, honey, look at you!” He cooed, giving you a tight squeeze before pulling back and letting his hands rest on your shoulders. “You look beautiful. Where’s your father? Is he going to make it?”

You gave the man a pained smile. “Thank you, Mr.Cameron. No, he won’t. He’s in the city on ‘unofficial business’.” You spoke, spite evident in your voice. “You know how that goes.”

Ward gave you a comforting smile and squeezed your shoulder reassuringly before removing his hands. “Well, give him my best when you do see him.” With the conversation ending there, you turned your attention to the rest of the people surrounding the table. 

Rose perched under Ward’s arm, Wheezie leaned over the table with her elbows propped up on the surface while she fiddled with her phone, and Rafe. 

He stood directly across from you, hands in the pockets of his slacks as his eyes bored shamelessly into yours.

You stared back for a moment, narrowing your eyes. After a moment, you gave him a thin-lipped smile and small nod of your head in acknowledgement of his presence. “Hi, Rafe.”

“I didn’t think you’d be coming this year.” He spoke, voice deeper and more raspy than you remember. But you had to admit, he looked better. No longer strung out on drugs, mind racing all over the place. He looked tamed.

“Wouldn’t miss it.” You assured him. The tension was palpable and you’re sure the rest of the Cameron family could feel it as Rose and Ward dismissed themselves to greet guests while Sarah dragged Wheezie to go eat all the sample foods in the kitchen with her. 

You and Rafe had dated practically all throughout high school. It was good until it wasn't. Rafe made you fall in love with a version of him that didn't exist and when the mask slipped there was no putting it back on. The relationship became the bane of your existence at some point during it. It couldn't even be described as toxic. Vile is probably a better word.

Once it was just the two of you, Rafe rounded the table to stand next to you as a waiter came around to hand you each a glass of champagne. You sat your clutch on the table and sipped on the beverage as he stood silently next to you, both of you facing forwards watching the party go on around you.

“Are you going to say something?” You asked flatly, tracing the rim of your glass.

“Why are you here?”

“Was I not invited?”

“You only ever come because your father asks you to just so he and my father can talk about property and money. But your father isn’t here. So why are you?” He pointed out.

You chuckled smally to yourself, finally turning your head to look at him as he did the same. “If you think I’m here for you, don’t flatter yourself.” You poked, leaning your weight on the table. “I’m surprised Ward didn’t mention anything to you.”

His eyebrows pinched together. “Mention what?”

“I came here to talk to him. About his company.” You started, taking a short sip of your champagne before continuing. “I want it and if my offer is good enough, he’s going to sell it to me.”

You'd struck a nerve in him. Nostrils flaring, fists balled on the surface of the top as he tried to compose himself. He had never been good with managing his anger. It was good to see that some things never change.

“Why the fuck would my father sell our family business to you?” He spat. “It’s mine. He said it was mine.”

“Well, it seems daddy lied to you.” You shrugged, looking Rafe in the eyes. “Like father, like son.”

Rafe’s eyes were running wild, his cheeks a deep shade of red. He took a step closer to you, placing his lips next to your ear as he spoke. “You’re bluffing. You've always been a bad bluff so, just say you missed me so we can fuck and you can go home.”

“I didn’t travel over two-hundred miles for you, Rafe.” You shot back, voice at his level now. “You never fucked me good enough for that type of commitment.”

“That’s funny. Considering all the screaming you were doing the night before you left for your fancy little Ivy-League School.” 

“You mean the night you begged me to come over? Crying about how you needed me-” You were cut off when Rafe abruptly gripped your upper arm, swiftly dragging you through the huddles of guests, into the house, and into the first open bathroom. He practically used your arm to throw you into the vacant area, closing the door behind himself.

His hands were trailing your thighs and underneath your dress before you could speak, his face only inches from yours. You didn’t think you’d ever miss his touch. It was always so rushed and rough. But now it was deliberately gentle and borderline seductive. 

“I will never forget the easiest way to get you to shut up. You're still the same.”

You snarled at him, mumbling an insult under your breath.

You hadn’t taken notice of the way your hands balled up your dress at the sides in your annoyance, making it easier for his hands to maneuver its way to the front of your panties, pressing the lightest of pressure to your clit. 

Your words had died in your throat, all insults and jabs getting swallowed down as you eyed him up and down while your heart beat out of your chest. Your lips were parted with small breaths leaving your lips every few seconds, refusing to give him complete satisfaction. “This doesn’t change anything.”

A smirk edged on his face before his head dipped down, using his nose to tip your chin up to gain access to your neck. You put up minimal struggle — you knew this wasn’t what you planned to do once you got here. You were here to rub the deal in his face, not fuck him in the downstairs bathroom of his mansion. But that plan became increasingly harder to carry out while he was sucking and licking your neck in all the right places that made you bite down on your tongue to keep quiet while his fingers moved your panties to the side, making contact with your bundle of nerves. One of your own hands released your dress to grab the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer.

The tips of his calloused fingers gilded easily through your dripping folds. He sighed into your neck at the contact and you could feel him smile against your skin, his fingers tracing your core leisurely. “You don’t hate me nearly as much you think you do.”

His words made your blood boil and your legs go weak all at the same time. If he was going to fuck you, then he needed to do just that and shut up while he was at it.

Your free hand ran its up his clothed back, cupping the back of his neck as he resumed his assault on yours. You had to bite down on your lip to stop yourself from making noise that any guest within ten feet of the door would hear as he eagerly pushed two of his fingers inside of you. You were never the quietest.

Your grip on his neck grew tighter, nails digging into the skin as his thick fingers curled and pumped between your legs. You’d been with other guys since Rafe but he knew you too well, which gave him an advantage that you hated. “Oh, fuck…” You muttered when you could no longer hold your profanities in your chest.

Releasing the hand that remained on your dress, you grabbed his wrist in a desperate attempt to shove his digits deeper into your core. 

He must’ve taken this as a sign that you wanted much more than he was offering because it wasn’t long before his fingers went from carefully massaging your g-spot to ramming into you callously. Your mouth fell open, the hand grabbing his wrist now gripping his forearm, feeling the veins on his biceps through his shirt. 

His head retreated from your neck to crash his lips against yours. His kisses no longer tasted like coke how they used to —- chemical and bitter. The only thing you could taste was the fruity-sweet undertones of the expensive champagne. It made your heart clench in the slightest of ways, knowing that just maybe he wasn’t the same person he was when you left.

But you knew he also wasn’t someone you could ever be with.

You were just about to reach your climax when he pulled his fingers back, leaving you empty and clenching around nothing. You didn’t even have a second to complain before he was dropping you to the floor, feet landing on the hardwood floor just in time to catch yourself.

Rafe hiked up your dress above your hips, pulling your panties down like a man starved and turning you to face the wall before using a hand on your back to bend you over. One of your own hands came up to slap itself against the painted surface, keeping you steady.

You could hear him unbutton his pants before letting them drop down his thighs, hearing his shoes shuffle closer behind you before you felt the warm head of his cock, smearing precum over your heat.

He wasted little time in pushing into you, a small groan leaving his lips as both of his hands went to grip your hips, pulling you back onto him with every thrust forward. Quick breaths and low moans were leaving your lips with every slap of his hips against yours.

His pace was moderate, but he was so deep that every push back into you felt like a kick to the gut in the best way possible.

You only felt a little shame when you realized this was exactly where Rafe wanted you. But this didn’t change anything after the fact. And he didn’t know that yet.

You started to feel that knot in your abdomen wind itself tighter again, pulling and pulling until after one particularly deep, knee-trembling thrust and the unexpected feeling of his fingers rubbing circles into your clit, you snapped. Coming around him as your nails scratched against the wall and you let out a long, breathy moan.

He wasn’t far behind you, grip on your hip growing tighter as his thrusts grew more rapid and sloppy, pushing you farther up the wall as your body began to straighten itself out, trembling as his circling of your nerves hadn't let up and he rode out your own high while still fucking into you. You felt the familiar feeling of him spilling inside of you within seconds. You didn’t think you would ever forget it.

You didn’t let him bask in his post-sex haze for long, pulling your garments back on and into place after he pulled out before silently moving around him to see yourself in the mirror. You fixed your loose strands of hair and lip gloss that somehow ran down your lips and onto your chin. You could see the blur of him in the reflective surface behind you as he pulled his pants back on, hair messed and skin red.

Once you deemed yourself decent, you creaked the door open, peeking to see who was near. When you figured the coast was clear, you slipped out of the door, leaving Rafe behind.

You weaved your way through the crowd of people that had thinned out somewhat, heading for the backyard where you realized you had carelessly left your clutch on the table. Making it back to the table where Rafe had dragged you from, half-drunk glasses of champagne and your abandoned clutch on the surface, you grabbed it, ready to turn around and find Ward. 

But of course, the second you turned back to the patio doors, Rafe was just inches behind you.

“You’re leaving now, right?”

You couldn’t help but scoff humorously. “What?”

“You got what you came here for so you’re leaving.” He said as if he had it all figured out. You didn’t think he seriously thought you were bluffing about the business proposal. Poor thing.

“I already told you, Rafe,” You started, shaking your head with a small grin on your face. “I’m not here for you.”

His face morphed into one of great annoyance and mild anger as your name was called, echoing outside. Your gaze shifted behind the irritated man to find Ward coming your way.

Stopping in front of you, he spoke without really noticing his son’s presence. “I’m so glad I caught you. I’ve been busy all night but-” Suddenly, he seemed to notice Rafe’s figure in front of you, hesitant eyes whipping between the both of you to carefully select his next words, not aware of the fact that his son now knew the one thing he didn’t want him to. “...I’d really still like a chance to talk about… that thing, before you go.”

You nodded, only really wanting to conceal the childish smile on your face. “That’d be great, Mr.Cameron. I’ll be sure to stick around.”

The older man gave you a grateful nod, pitifully eyeing his son before heading back inside. Your own gaze shifted back to Rafe, you could’ve sworn you saw steam rising from his ears. And though you felt a twinge of guilt, you just couldn’t help but chuckle.

“You are a lot of things Rafe,” You started, picking up your champagne glass from the table behind you before looking at him again. “But better than me is not one of them.”

General taglist; @livlaughquinn

Event Taglist; @timmytime17

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.

©loveharlow

#angstober23' #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x fem!reader #dark!rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron smut #drew starkey #drew starkey fanfiction #obx rafe

[loveharlow]

ummmmm yeah company policy was AMAZING pls the writing was so so great!!! i loveee dark!rafe and he was so dark in this i literally loved it <333 u awoke something in me fr LMAO

im so happy to be of service🤭 and yes dark!rafe is just 😚*chefs kiss*, like canon!rafe this, soft!rafe that but dark!rafe is the unholy grail 😭

#harlowhasmail💌 #harlow.txt🎙️ #rafe cameron x reader #dark!rafe cameron x reader #angstober23'

[loveharlow]

I'm gonna break all of your precious little hearts on day 2. I know this because I just spent the last 4 hours breaking my own.

#angstober23' #harlowstfu🤫 #jj maybank x reader

[loveharlow]

angstober update:

event is still ongoing but i got such a good dark!rafe idea and had to write so that'll be out soon in placement of another day

xo

also, one of my upload for angstober got barred from tags but you can read it here!

#harlowpsa📢 #angstober23' #dark!rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader

[loveharlow]

Day 4 might be a day late. I'm going through some personal stuff that's just been hitting me a little too hard these last 3 days. My mental isn't great at all and I'm just trying to pull myself together.

sorry.

#harlowpsa📢 #angstober23'

[loveharlow]

R u still going to post ur parting gift fic

everything on the angstober masterlist is still going to be posted. im just moving a bit slower the more this month drags on but im still writing <3

#harlowhasmail💌 #angstober23'