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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 months

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Daddy Lessons 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Rafe Cameron

Summary: You agree to tutor for the Cameron's, but find your student less than cooperative.

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

There aren’t many summer jobs in Hammer Ford, but you promised your parents you would find something. Without any response from the grocery store, cafe, or library, your search is hopeless. That’s until you ran into Rose Cameron.

“Weren’t you valedictorian?” She asked.

The scene plays over in your head as you step off your bike to walk it up the hill. What luck that she found you picking out flowers with your mother. Almost as if she’d been looking for you.

“Uh, yeah, last year,” you smiled.

It’s been a year since high school ended, since then you’d spent two semesters outside the hamlet. In the city, people don’t just come up to you for no reason, and rarely a good one. Nor do they know you by name. Your home town seems more quaint the longer you’re away from campus.

“Great, I need a tutor,” she tutted, “how’s fifty an hour?”

You shake your head as you straddle your bike again. It’s an offer you really can’t pass up, even if the Camerons weren’t the most friendly family in Hammer Ford. It doesn’t matter as long as you can tell your parents you have a job.

You pedal east towards the house on the hill. You’ve never been up there. Not even in high school when everyone was going on about the ragers at the Cameron ranch. It was never really your scene. That and you weren’t invited.

You slow as you approach the low fence, breathless as you stop by the closed gate. Do you let yourself in? There’s a gold bell mounted on the post. You ring it and it sends a thunderous toll through the air.

You wait, looking around, though you don’t know if anyone’s coming. Someone appears across the field. You recognise Ward Cameron as he nears, waving a gloved hand as he does.

“Hi, Mr. Cameron, um…” you hold onto your handlebars and dismount, “Rose, uh, asked me to drop by.”

“Sure thing,” he unhooks the inside of the gate, “I was just brushing Juliet.”

“Oh, okay,” you smile.

“You can work in the dining room if that works, or the back porch? It’s pretty nice out,” he lets you through the gate and secures it before he points you towards the house. “Really glad you could come out. We went to an agency in the city but they wanted us to go to them.”

“Um, yeah, sure, no problem,” you peer over at a foal and its mother in a pen, “nice place.”

“You think so? Does it look different in the day?”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, I know about the parties,” he chortles, “it’s fine.”

“Well, I never…” you rub the back of your neck, “anyway, I guess we can study where Sarah wants.”

“Sarah?”

“Oh, erm, Wheezie?” You wonder.

“Did Rose not… explain?”

“I… assumed, well, she just said you needed a tutor so I thought…” You blink and chew your lip, “Rafe?”

He laughs again, “the one and only. We’re tryna get him back in good graces. He has a conditional offer in the city but he has to take an entrance exam.”

“Right,” you try not to show your discomfort.

Rafe is a year older than you. Even so, he never failed to knock your books out of your hands or laugh in your direction. When he graduated, the student populace sighed in relief but he only made it through one semester in college before he flunked out.

“He’s not the kind for ranch work,” Ward says as he gestures you up the front steps, “frankly, I don’t know what he’s cut out for but a degree will at least give him some prospects.”

“Mhmm,” you drone nervously. If Rose had said so, you may not have been so eager. You just assumed it would be one of the two Wards still enrolled in school.

“He should be around–” he pulls open the front door and lets you in first.

You step aside to slip your shoes off as he hollers for Rafe. You glance out the screen door and wonder if you can come up with a good excuse. Your mind is racing but you come up with nothing.

“What?” Rafe snarls as he traipses in through a broad archway.

“Tutor’s here,” Ward says.

“Tutor?” Rafe mutters.

“I told you,” he chides, “go get your books.”

“Dad, I told you, I’ll write the damn test–”

“And you’ll pass,” Ward insists, “books. Now.”

Rafe huffs and stomps upstairs. You turn around to watch him go. Ward shakes his head and beckons you onwards. You marvel at the neat interior. It’s all a lot more modern than the rest of Hammer Ford. A rustic contemporary mix of sleek white and faded pine.

“Feel free to help yourself to some water, or there’s a Keurig,” Ward offers, “I’d get you some myself but…” he holds up his gloved hands, “I doubt you like the taste of horse hair.”

You smile and nod as you slip your bag off your shoulder.

“Thanks, uh, I’m good,” you say.

“Don’t let him get to you. I know how he can be. He gives you any trouble, I’ll deal with him.”

“Sure, uh, no, shouldn’t be an issue,” you shrug, though you sound less than convincing.

“I’ll be around,” he says and taps the door frame as he leaves.

You sit as he goes and you open your laptop on the table. Your parents bought the used model for your first year of college. It’s a bit slow but it works. You’ll just need the wifi.

A sudden slam makes you yipe and jolts the table. You look up as Rafe stands across from you, scowling. Behind your laptop, there’s several textbooks and a notebook with curling pages. You try to smile but your lips only tremble.

“Oh, hey,” you eke out, “uh, so… we can start on comprehensive literature–”

“Fuck off, dork,” he drops into the chair.

“Well I… your dad–”

“My dad wants me to sit here and waste his money, sure thing,” he crosses his arms and rolls his eyes, “but i’m not takin’ no lessons from you.”

“Right, well, I…” you don’t know what to say. “Can I have the wifi at least?”

He doesn’t acknowledge your question as he pulls out his phone. You think he’s looking it up but he just sits and scrolls, his floppy hair drooping down his forehead. You fidget and flutter your fingers listlessly over the keyboard.

You should just go but you need the money. You close the laptop and reach for one of the textbooks. You open it and smooth the pages with your hand.

“Right, rules of grammar,” you begin, “nouns, pronouns, verbs–”

“Fucking dweeb,” he drops his phone and stands up, “for someone so smart, you sure are fucking dumb.”

“Identifying sentences…” you focus on the page as he paces.

“You think you’re so fucking clever,” he startles you as he pulls out the chair next to you, sitting in it as his elbow hits the table.

“Read the following and underline–” you angle the book towards him, silence by a jarring squeeze on your throat.

You recoil as his hand closes on the front of your neck and you push yourself back in the chair. You grab his wrist and choke, wiggling in your seat. What is he doing?

“What–”

“Shhhhh,” he puts his finger to his lips then presses it to yours, “you talk too much.”

You stare at him, wide-eyed, pulling helplessly on his arm. He smirks as he leans forward, pulling you towards him.

“You think you’re better than me?” He snarls, “let’s see about that.”

#rafe cameron #dark rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #drabble #au #series #daddy lessons #backwoods au #obx #the outer banks

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alwaysbewoke · 2 months

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sirensongfm · 7 months

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#beyoncé #the chicks #daddy lessons #2016

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motherbeysuniverseeee · 13 days

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the grandbaby of a moonshine man

GADSEN, ALABAMA

got folks down in galveston, rooted in louisiana

in a rodeo chitlin circus, we gon' make it do what it do, YA YA

#beyonce #beyoncé #beencountry #alwaysbeencountry #daddy lessons #THELINDAMARTELLSHOW #YA YA #ALABAMA

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letsgetmessi · 21 days

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Let’s all celebrate by listening to Daddy Lessons and then Cowboy Carter

#beyoncé #beyonce #cowboy carter #lemonade #daddy lessons

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boop-le-snoot · 2 years

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daddy lessons 2

this goes out for all my people who have dealt with shit on their own and feel uncomfortable reaching out & asking for help. and daddy issues, oh boy.

18+, mostly plot, at the end is a bisexual threeway with m/m action so proceed at your own discretion. daddy kink (duh) written all lowercase

"who's a needy baby today?" tony coos, stroking the side of your face - the only thing that is visible under the mountain of blankets you've surrounded yourself with.

the smell of his cologne, usually strong and smokey, coupled with the metallic tang of mechanical oil, penetrates the defenses you have put up against the world.

yet you chuff, and the blankets squirm with you in silent defiance. you're down on your luck, so miserable it makes you irritated and thus avoidant. it's always so inconvenient when things that are out of your control go wrong, and even more unreasonable is the time you have to spend like this - cocooned and withdrawn - to calm down.

your short fuse is both a curse and a blessing.

tony is smart. he waits out the first waves of annoyance and rides them out, stroking your cheek throughout your glaring. when he sees your shoulders - or at least the general area of them obscured by the blankets - droop, he takes the cue for what it is, unfurling the top layers of your fluffy shield, to snuggle in next to you.

"damn, you're toasty," he remarks casually as your skin scalds him even through his shirt and jeans. it makes the clothes go, quickly, and he is soon curled up with you in just his boxers as the blankets cover the two of you once more. "this is basically bulletproof," he adds, poking the blankets right over your stomach, "so, now it's us versus the world. very romantic, if i do say so myself."

you sigh, a long, quiet breath, letting your head drop on his shoulder. your nostrils flare as the smell of him invades your personal space bubble: almost hypnotized by it, you draw another, deeper, calmer breath. your fingers lightly scratch over the hair on his tummy, an absent-minded gesture of affection that is as soft as it is sweet.

"long day," you mumbled, finally, not wanting to test tony's patience too much. "some people are bilingual by default. they speak english and stupid."

tony's laugh is sweet and genuine, "don't i know it, baby girl."

you chuff again, sigh again and press your face into the crook of his neck, where his goatee scratches against your face, offering a familiar, grounding comfort.

"stupid is a liability, so kindly tell me who needs to get sacked. pretty please, with a cherry on top."

"it's not your people, it's steph's students," the edge creeps back into your voice as you are forced to recall the shouting match that happened a few hours earlier. you hate shouting and you hate stupidity and you hate people who can't follow simple instructions. "well, apprentices, but whatever. went toe to toe with three idiots, they didn't listen to a word i said and now one is in a coma, one has some sort of a soul curse or something and the third one just ran off. wong is pissed and my whole back is bruised."

the words come off angrier that you intend them to be, but anger offers a familiar comfort. it's certainly better than the fear you'd felt: first, standing your ground to three men with magic powers and afterwards, almost becoming collateral to an entity you couldn't even see, much less fight.

"come that by me again?" tony is still next to you and the twitching in his fingers makes you unbearably nervous.

"i was in the sanctum's library as usual and overheard those idiots talking, hell-bent on performing a small cleansing ritual. except i took latin in college and told them they're about to summon something. they didn't listen, of course."

"and your back?"

"got thrown against the shelves when it arrived. luckily wong was nearby and the shelf that fell on me took the brunt of their spells." you stated, sensing it in your bones that stephen had temporarily lost tony's favour - at least for the night. "and before you say it, stephen went to kamar-taj on urgent business. he's probably back at the sanctum right now and is trying to fix up those idiots so he can send them to jesus himself."

tony gave a weak, sarcastic chuckle, "if he won't, i will." hands smoothed over you chest, your stomach - tony's way of making sure you were safe, you were with him and whole. "turn around, i'll take a look at your back. i'm no doctor but..."

with a grunt, you untangled yourself from the blankets once more and gracelessly flopped onto your stomach. the heat of your skin met the cool air of the room as your shirt was promptly pulled up. face smushed against a pillow, you eyed tony's concerned expression as he traced something on your back.

"bruised, probably," you deduced by the downturn of his frown.

"looks like you were lashed," his brows furrowed. "magic and all that shit, no?"

"probably," you shrugged. a cool shower had eased most of the pain and keeping it warm afterwards had seemed to help lots.

most of your injuries were mental - the indignation at being dismissed by the apprentices as some sort of child, despite you spending so much time with the sorcerer supreme himself, you were pretty sure at this point you knew more than they did. at least in theory. at least linguistically you definitely did.

"when did you get home?" tony asked, reaching into the bedside table, rummaging around for a bottle of neutral lotion he kept there.

"round two, i think. took a cab."

"that was four hours ago," tony's eyes, wide and hurt, settled on your face as he gently massaged the lotion onto your wounds. "why didn't you tell j to get me?"

why didn't you?

"tones, i'm not gonna interrupt your sciencing for a boo-boo. i'm fine, just annoyed as fuck."

"quite obviously you're not fine. i'm a genius, I would know," the response was immediate.

"okay, maybe i'm very pissed," you emphasized, a slight twang of exasperation lacing the words.

satisfied with the state of your back, tony capped the lotion and tossed it aside, turning you over onto your back once more. a few stray curls hung over his face, curtaining the crease between his eyebrows and doing little to conceal sparks of worry and understanding etched deeply in his warm, brown eyes.

you could only squirm as tony's plump lips softly touched your nose.

"your little adventure sounds terrifying," he enunciated the word with venom, "fighting something once can't even see. something that, apparently, hates bookshelves and cute little bunnies. was it the devil?"

you know tony; you know that this is just his way of dealing with big feelings, his own or someone else's, and more importantly, you know that he knows it works on you. it thaws your heart every time, little by little. the corners of your mouth go up.

"you're the devil," your eyes are drawn to the sinful curve of his cupid's bow, the pink, moist flesh of his mouth.

as it opens into a wide, red grin, he leans into you and edges his face under your chin, biting down into your neck.

it tickles more than aches and you giggle, your first actual laugh since the incident.

tony lays into it, growling and rubbing his scratchy beard on your skin, leaving it raw and tender.

the trickle of your giggles is now a waterfall; as his hands join, softly skimming your sides, both of you succumb to the, perhaps, childish joy - but who are you to complain : the tension just evaporates, like muddy puddles in blazing july sunlight.

that's how you two miss the tell-tale whoosh noise of a portal opening right in your shared bedroom. stephen stays quiet, observing the activities with tired, but fond amusement, until the shriek you let out is south of the border of comfort-

"ahem," he says, lowly, enjoying the reaction as you and tony surface from the cuddle with hot cheeks and shining eyes.

"babe," tony falls onto his back, opening his arms wide, "we were just wondering if you would need bail money."

you scoot closer to tony, suddenly feeling awkward.

steph snorts, taking his time to untie and unlace the myriad of fastenings of his sorcerer attire, stretching as the heavy outer layers fall onto the back of a chair.

in the corner of your eye, you see the cloak dart to its favourite spot behind a houseplant, out of everyone's immediate sight and within an arm's reach of a window. evening sunlight seems to be a hit with the relic.

"i have very little idea of what happened, actually, and wong is still very much aggravated so i'd rather not risk my ass trying to find out," stephen's jovial tone has you and tony sharing a knowing look: it won't last long.

as the sorcerer departs for the shower, you shrug, "wong is really into his books."

as soon as stephen is out, tony opens his mouth without thinking.

"some of your scholars summoned a demon and it dropped some shelves on our bunny," he cringes a second after he blurts it out.

steph freezes mid-step, dark eyes scanning all over your form.

"pardon?"

"yea," you confirm meekly, discreetly elbowing tony in the gut.

he lets out a soft oof.

"are you okay?" something like panic briefly washes over stephen's face: it fades quickly, however, replaced by annoyance. he saunters over to you, dropping his towel, and slides in bed next to you, his warm, nude body resting against yours as his eyes scan over yours.

"her back's all weird," tony supplies, unhelpfully, and forces you to strip your shirt and turn your backside towards stephen.

"i'm fine, it doesn't hurt anymore," you protest, but know better than to move as stephen's fingers trace the linear markings and the odd bruise.

stephen curses as he demands you tell the details of the incident, again. and maybe you do, in a bit more detail than before, and maybe tony joins in on the cursing.

your face is ablaze, you're sure the heat emanating from it would be enough to keep the whole damn manhattan warm in the upcoming winter and something like unease, something heavy and sticky twists in your gut. any moment and stephen will chastise you - for not getting out as soon as you heard the idiots, for trying to intervene. the humiliation burns, too, of being reminded how much weaker you are, even than the worst, laziest scholar.

"you with us?" tony's concerned voice snaps you out of the zone.

"yea, sorry, zoned out."

"i should go and see if i can do anything about the consequences of the spell," stephen says, but makes no move to get up. "although i probably should cool down first. no point in doing all that work if i kill them all afterwards," his tone is humourless.

your hip under his fingers feels all the effects of his stress and his restraint. his hands are tense as they caress you, shaking the tiniest bit.

tony covers stephen's hand with his. both of them curl around you, strong and large limbs surrounding every inch of your body. like most nights, you don't need a blanket at all.

"why didn't you call me?" stephen's words tangle in your hair.

"i thought you were fighting some alien monstrosity," some honesty was offered from you.

stephen chuckles, "i'd get you home first. otherwise tony would pitch a fit."

"would not," the engineer immediately retorts, poking stephen in the belly.

"would too," the sorcerer rolls his eyes, catching the hand in his and bringing it up to his mouth to plant a loud smooch on it, effectively trapping you close between the two of them.

he's still tense and suddenly, you're very aware of his nudity and your own lack of attire. the tiny cotton panties barely provide any cover from tony's naturally hot, bulky body heating your front; you feel the direct result of stephen's tension beginning to poke at the low of your back.

he's a gentleman about it, though, so he adjusts himself for it to rest comfortably between the cheeks of your ass. the mewl that escapes you at the feeling is embarrassing, but considerably less so when a responding rumble makes way outta stephen's mouth and into tony's.

it's difficult to refrain from diving head-first into your arousal when the men beside you simultaneously reach out to lock their lips in a slow, heated kiss that leaves them with puffy lips and hooded eyes.

"fuck," you mumble, because is there? anything else? to say?

tony's mouth is now on you and stephen is pulling your panties down your legs, sliding his hard, heavy cock between your thighs and his fingers between your outer lips, toying with your clit slowly as tony fucks your mouth with his tongue.

long and slender, stephen's fingers play your taut strings with surgical precision. slick leaks from you and onto your thighs, aiding in the languid, lazy strokes of his cock against them, huffs of lust leaving his mouth when the sensitive tip brushes over your hole. it collects more and more moisture, your orgasm at a deliciously convenient distance.

for now.

you palm tony's erection, clumsily reaching into his boxers, helping him to pull them down, toying with his heavy balls, the two of you swallowing each other's moans and gasps.

as the blunt tip of stephen's cock snags a little too sweet, a little too steady, almost dipping into your cunt, you let out a pathetic, desperate whine, acutely conveying the emptiness insider of you.

"daddy's got you," stephen rumbles, rolling over onto his back and grabbing you with him. it's an easy job for a man his size.

you rest comfortably, back to his chest, as the tip of his cock aims directly for your entrance, breaching it with little resistance due to the copious amounts of sweet, sweet arousal coming from you.

briefly, you grunt, letting your eyes slide shut and body do a full reset.

tony's shuffling gets lost in your attempts to steady your breathing: stephen is filling you, stretching you, but not moving. it's all too much but it's not enough. your feet planted on his thighs, you try to seek friction but another pair of hands on your hips stops you.

hot breath tickles the inside of your thigh as you and stephen emit a choked moan in unison: tony's tongue slides up the shaft of stephen's cock and curls over your clit, a sensation that makes your hackles rise and your pussy clench and gush in desperation.

your eyes are still closed but you swear you can see tony's cheeky grin as clear as day: the mischievous sparkle in his eyes as he bends down and licks again, keeping you and stephen steady with his hands on your hips. tony's mouth is a devil of its own, your own personal brand of torture.

stephen grips you, a tell-tale sign of his self-control crumbling; the flutters of your cunt around the tip of his cock and tony's mouth lapping up your juices as they drip down his shaft are surely driving the sorcerer mad in more ways than possible.

tony sucks on your clit just right, flicks it with determination and you feel your legs shake: your cunt grips at stephen's cock with vigour now, contractions almost rhythmic.

"she's gonna come," stephen says, a breathless chuckle.

tony just hums, keeping up the pace and-

yes, you do. bucking your hips helplessly, no match for the iron grips of your men.

as soon as it starts, tony withdraws, letting stephen pound into you with all his might: like that, the original orgasm blends into another one, or something else, you can't tell.

there's drool running down the corner of your slack mouth, open moans reduced to mere whimpers.

stephen's cum is hot and abundant as it floods your cunt, bringing a sense of fulfillment none other can bring. well, maybe...

"hold her open for me?" tony asks as stephen comes down from his high.

you feel his dopey smile in his movements. the way he slides out of you, grabs hold of your legs and opens your swollen, leaking cunt to tony's prying eyes. you can't help but shudder.

the blunt tip of tony's cock slides in even easier; stephen is longer, but tony is thicker. the stretch is pleasant, the little bit of extra friction just on the side of overstim. as tony grabs your legs and begins to move, fluid, practiced strokes that aim at your special spot, stephen's hands wander to palm your neglected tits.

you mewl some more, louder, higher, with some pet names and obsceneties thrown in this time.

"bunny's got all up in her head today," tony's voice drops, gravelly. "and that's okay, we'll fuck all those silly little thoughts out of you, won't we?"

stephen laughs good-naturedly, pinching your pebbled nipples, "yes, we will, baby."

tony does just that.

#ironstrange x reader #ironstrange x reader smut #daddy lessons #tony stark smut #stephen strange smut

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knxwles · 24 days

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My thoughts on Lemonade - Beyoncé 🍋

Lemonade is one of the biggest albums created. It’s not just about Jay Z’s infidelity. It’s about sisterhood as well. Beyoncé tells her story in the most beautiful way possible. She takes us on a powerful journey through her various experiences that come with loss and betrayal. Even though there are 13 songs on the album, i’ll narrow it down to the five stages of grief that she portrays in this album.

The first stage of grief is denial. In the opening track “Pray You Catch Me,” Beyoncé expresses feelings of suspicion and uncertainty, hinting at a sense of denial about the betrayal she is experiencing in her relationship.

The second stage is Anger. Songs like “Hold Up” and “Don't Hurt Yourself” showcase Beyoncé's anger and frustration over her partner's infidelity, as she confronts the pain and betrayal head-on with empowering lyrics.

The third stage of grief is bargaining. The song “Sorry” can be seen as a form of bargaining, with Beyoncé asserting her independence and self-worth as she navigates the complexities of her emotions and relationship.

The fourth stage of grief is depression. Tracks like “Love Drought” and “Sandcastles” delve into themes of sadness, longing, and reflection, as Beyoncé grapples with the pain and heartache of a failing relationship.

The final stage of grief is acceptance. The album ultimatelymoves towards a sense of acceptance and empowerment, with songs like “All Night” and “Formation” celebrating reconciliation, forgiveness, and self-love as Beyoncé finds strength and resilience in the face of adversity.

However, in “Formation” Beyoncé celebrates black lives and womanhood in a number of ways. The song's lyrics and music video highlight themes of empowerment and self-love within the black community. Beyoncé proudly embraces her identity as a black woman and encourages others to do the same. The song also addresses social issues such as police brutality, racism, and theimportance of self-expression. “Formation” serves as a powerful anthem that celebrates the strength and beauty of black lives and womanhood.

Through her music and visuals in “Lemonade,” Beyoncé captures the complexities of grief and healing, offering a deeply personal and relatable exploration of love, loss, and transformation.

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk! 🍋

#Beyonce #Lemonade #Pray You Catch Me #Hold Up #Don’t Hurt Yourself #Sorry #6 Inch #Daddy Lessons #Love Drought #Sandcastles #Forward #Freedom #All Night #Formation #Sorry - Original Demo

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arcticmonkeysjunglepenguins · 13 days

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In the song Daddy Lesson, Beyoncé sings quote "With his right hand on his rifle, he swore it on the bible".

It is known that when swearing an oaths of loyalty, truthful or faith American swears with their right hand.

In this essay I will...

#thinking about a versions post for two weeks #text post #music #daddy lessons #beyonce #american #cowboy carter #living for the cover with the chicks #the chicks

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sweethoneysim · 2 months

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Giddy up, b*tches! We're headed to the Alamo. A little "Daddy Lessons" inspired gameplay in celebration of Cowboy Carter's arrival.

Outfit: Hair | Hat | Top | Jeans (V3)

GShade: Gemini by xUrbanSimsx

CC Creators: @thatonegreenleaf @helgatisha @luxysims @bananasimss @xurbansimsx

#sims 4 #sims 4 screenshots #beyonce #cowboy #cowboy carter #horse ranch #act 2 #daddy lessons #ts4 simblr #the sims 4 gshade

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chokemedaddyloki · 10 months

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GIRL DINNER 🤤

#tom hiddleston #girl dinner #thicc thighs save lives #hiddlesthighs #daddy lessons #the sluttiest shorts

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colourofthekites · 3 months

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act ii is for the Daddy Lessons girlies

#Beyoncé #act ii #daddy lessons

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 months

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Daddy Lessons 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: Rafe Cameron

Summary: You agree to tutor for the Cameron’s, but find your student less than cooperative.

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You slap your hand around Rafe’s wrist, panic surging in your throat. You can’t breathe. You bring your other hand up as you turn in the seat, trying to dislodge his grip as he squeezes tighter. So tight, you feel your eyes bulging.

You smack his shoulder desperately as tears fill the brims of your eyes and the chair tilts with your struggle. He lets you go as you wrench back and topple off the seat completely. Your back hits the floor and knocks the wind out of you a second time.

You wheeze and cough as your throat burns. Rafe chuckles as you hear the pages flutter and he throws the textbook. It lands on your stomach and you groan.

“Tell you what, dork, whatever my dad’s paying you to ‘teach’ me,” he puts a special lilt on teach, “I’ll pay you double to shut the fuck up. You sit there, do whatever it is nerds do and I’ll be on my phone.”

He kicks the chair as he gets up and stomps around the table. He resumes his seat on the other side as you sit up. He swipes his phone into his hand and goes back to flicking the screen with his thumb. You get up silently, holding back another wave of tears as you try not to shake.

You pick up the book and bring the chair straight. You lower yourself onto the seat and put the textbook beside your laptop. You stare at the screen but can’t read the font. You’re terrified.

All those years, you saw Rafe swaggering down the halls, calling kids names, pushing the nerdiest of the punch into lockers, but he’d never hit a girl. Not openly, though he never had a problem bashing any boy smaller than him.

“If you’re gonna cry, keep it down,” he snickers, “you’re not hot enough for that.”

You blink and stare at the screen. What do you do? Pack up and go? Tell Ward it’s not going to work out. He’ll be disappointed but he can afford someone who wasn’t a former victim of his son’s high school foliies.

You close the laptop and grab your bag, tucking it inside quietly. You’ll just have to break the news to your parents. You’re unemployed, again. That didn’t last long. You hook your knapsack over your shoulder and stand.

“Giving up?” Rafe scoffs without looking up from his phone, “typical.”

You don’t say anything as you round the table and head for the door. Before you can step into the entryway, a searing pain in your scalp lurches you back. You cry out as Rafe drags you into the dining room and pens you in against the table. He fists your hair as he snarls at you.

“Don’t you fucking go tattling on me to daddy,” he growls. “Don’t be a little bitch and sit the fuck down.”

“Let me go–”

“I was fucking serious. I’ll pay you to mind your goddamn business. My dad wants me to read these damn books, so you tell him I read them,” he sneers, “but it’s gotta be fucking believable so go on and sit.”

“Rafe–”

“Don’t you fucking call me that,” he spits, “I don’t wanna hear my name on your fucking lips.” You flinch as he yanks your hair, “we got a deal or what?” His eyes drift down to your striped tee shirt, “you could use the money.”

You gulp and glance past him. What other prospects do you have? Sit at home and face the music and have no money or sit here in silence until your time is up.

“Ow,” you squirm, “I– I’ll do it but– let me go.”

He abides as he rolls his eyes and shoves you away from him, “god, you’re fucking whiny.”

“I’m not… I’m not going to stay if you keep doing that–”

“Ah, come on,” he slurs, “tell me it doesn’t get you a little hot. I know you ain’t had other guys up on you.”

That hurts in a different way. You try not to show it as you back away from him. This isn’t a good idea. He’s not exactly stable and you don’t really trust him. Even if he doesn’t follow through, money is money. Besides, he seems more interested in that phone than you.

You go back around the table and sit. You pull the textbook close and Rafe narrows his eyes at you. You raise a palm, trembling despite your efforts.

“To make it convincing,” you say and exhale heavily.

He grumbles and drops back into his seat. You set your bag on the chair next to you and slip your laptop out once more. You pop it open and listlessly drag your finger over the trackpad. You still don’t have the wifi. Solitaire it is.

You yawn and lean your chin in your hand. The tension remains. It’s silent but for his occasional snort or mutter at his phone. He’s just the same as he ever was. The popular kid defiant to everyone and everything around him.

You wish you could be that reckless. Well, you can’t just fall back on daddy’s bank account. You have to work to get top marks just to afford your tuition, but the scholarships don’t pay for your books or your housing. That’s all up to you and what little your parents can scrape up after their own expenses.

As much as you hate his privilege, you envy it. Maybe you would be like him if you had that. Maybe you wouldn’t care either.

You click away at the cards, stacking one on top of the other. You look at the time. Not even twenty minutes in. You’re scheduled for two hours. This is actual torture, even triggering. The last thing you wanted to do was revert to high school. Graduation was the happiest day of your life because it meant you never had to see those people again.

Or so you thought.

Rafe chuffs and lets out a groan. You don’t look up. He’s already proven he’s unhinged, it wouldn’t surprise you if he had full conversations with himself. He knocks the table and another long drone escapes him. The table jolts a second time and your laptop bounces. You sit up to see above the screen.

Rafe aims his phone at his lap. The way his other arm you can tell he’s holding his… you know. What the hell?!

You’re too embarrassed to call him out. You hope at least he doesn’t actually have it out. Oh god, he really has no shame.

You win and the cards stream down in celebration. Rafe makes another noise. A deep rasp that catches in his throat. Your skin is on fire. You should have left.

“Uh, where’s the bathroom?” You ask as you get up.

“Dammit,” he growls as he pumps his arm furiously. Is he– “I’m about to–”

Your mouth falls open and you stumble. You panic and quickly turn, nearly sprinting into the kitchen. You stagger through another doorway and down a hallway. You find a half bath and lock yourself inside.

You can’t unsee what you just saw. Why would he do that right there across from you? He’s sick and twisted!

#rafe cameron #dark rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #drabble #daddy lessons #au #backwoods au #series #the outer banks #obx

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