Slag For The Dad And Son Ngl

slag for the dad and son ngl

Ward with trophy wife reader and an age gap, like she is Rafe age

18+, MDNI !!

—oooo, she’s young but she’s his baby 100%. Hanging off his arm like a pretty piece of eye candy, pressing kisses to his neck and leaving lipstick prints for everyone to gawk over. She gets her nails done every week ‘n goes to her hair appointments by herself, but when it’s clothes… ohhh boy, Ward is jumping to drive her wherever she wants. Especially when it’s Victoria’s Secret ‘n he gets to pick out a sweet little babydoll slip for her to wear for him— probably smth pink ‘n frilly cs he knows that’s how she likes it. Ooo and he’s on his phone because of business ‘n it frustrates her sm while they’re shopping :( so she lets him watch as she changes into it, posing in front of the mirror the instant he looks up from his phone, pushing up the hem of the slip so she can show him her pretty little panties.

“You’re always at work,” she says, whining, but he’s already up from his seat and trailing his hands in between her thighs. “Never pay attention t’me anymore, daddy.”

“No attention, hm?” And he’s mean with it as he grabs the lace hem of her panties up, yanking the fabric in between her cheeks. She lets out a tiny mewl, her forehead hitting the cold mirror in front of her. “Givin’ you attention right now, honey, am I not?”

“Daddy, not here.”

“Do you want this set?” At her silence, a small pout on her face even though her hips are moving right up against his crotch, he growls. “Then yes, baby, right here. Take it off. Now.”

How are any drew girls actually gunna get married and meet a man? Like y’all are gunna go on dates and shit and be like…

”wait…there’s something I’m not pushed on this dude? Whys that?….ohhhh, he’s not Drew Starkey. Sorry bro”

ill be in a really good mood and then ill remember ill never date drew starkey.

Deez nuts

Y’all words can’t describe how much of a non fan of Ariana Grande I am. Mf I dont see the hype. 🤷‍♀️

Idk how to say this politely but I’ll give it a go….Fuck off please x

closest to canon fic I’ve ever read gang

What’s good, John B? || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: After finding out John B poached the Camerons' scuba gear and telling Rafe about it, you forget just how crazy he can be.

Warnings: swearing, slight mention of sex, dark!rafe, possesisve/toxic!rafe, mention of gun, reader is abit of a bitch oops.

Word count: 932

A/n: based on s1 rafe + s1 scenes, idk if I like this one tbh, it was just fun to write. PLS SEND ME REQUESTS IM DESPERATE.

MASTERLIST

Divider by @yoonitos

With scuba diving gear in hand, John B quietly shuts the door behind him. As he turns, he’s momentarily startled by your presence—the island’s kook princess, Rafe Cameron’s girl—“Oh, hey," you greet him, casually lifting your sunglasses onto your head while John B steals a glance behind you.

“Are you stalking us? Plotting your revenge, huh?” You lean your elbows against the railing, a sarcastic smile playing on your lips. “Yeah, you know what, why don’t you just go tell your boyfriend’s daddy I blew up the bilge on Druthers?” Your annoyance is palpable as a scoff escapes your lips.

You observe as he stows the scuba gear in his boat. “Everything’s good to go. Just toppin’ off these tanks,” he says with an awkward smile, raising your suspicions. “You know-“ before you can continue, a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist, causing you to cut your sentence short.

As Rafe’s familiar scent envelops you, you instinctively intertwine your fingers with his, savoring the warmth and familiarity of his touch. His lips leave a delicate trail of kisses along your neck, sending shivers down your spine. Meanwhile, John B lingers awkwardly nearby.

Feeling the tension in the air, John B clears his throat, breaking the silence. “What’s good, John B?” Rafe’s voice cuts through the quiet, his tone casual yet tinged with a hint of amusement as he finally lifts his head, his mischievous grin adorning his face, contrasting with the seriousness of the situation.

“What are you- uh- doin’ here? On my boat?” Rafe questions, gesturing around as if to emphasize his point. “Isn’t this your daddy’s boat?” John B tilts his head, while Rafe’s grip around your waist tightens. “What the hell are you doing here, Pogue?” Rafe’s words slice through the tension, his patience fraying at the edges.

“Uh I don’t know if you’ve forgotten Rafe, but I work here. Yep.” John B says, climbing into his boat as Rafe rolls his eyes. “I still don’t know why Dad hired him,” Rafe mutters under his breath, his words carrying a mix of annoyance and confusion. Despite his attempt to keep it quiet, his comment is just audible enough for you to catch, eliciting a smile from you at the subtle jab. “I’m just filling up these tanks,” John B points at the scuba gear. Rafe nods slowly in acknowledgment.

“Uh-huh. Well, move along then,” Rafe waves him off with a dismissive gesture, his expression tinged with annoyance, before he gently tugs you by the hand, leading you back towards the house. As he guides you, his fingers instinctively intertwine with yours, his touch both possessive and protective.

“I don’t want to see you talking to him ever again, got it?” Rafe’s voice rumbles against your hair, his warm breath tickling your skin as he leans in closer, his grip on you tightening with each step.

~

Feeling the dryness in your throat, you quietly rise from the bed, careful not to disturb your sleeping boyfriend. Glancing around, you spot Rafe’s shirt haphazardly discarded on the floor from the previous night. You pick it up and slip it onto your body, its fabric enveloping you with a comforting familiarity. Moving silently, you leave the room and make your way to the kitchen.

As you open the fridge, the creak of the rolling doors draws your attention. Your movements halt abruptly as you come face to face with John B. His surprise is evident; he's frozen in place, caught between the two doors with scuba gear in hand, staring at you.

A sudden realization hits you—you’re only wearing Rafe’s shirt. Embarrassed, you tug it down, trying to cover yourself more adequately. "What are you doing here?" you ask, your voice a mix of confusion and curiosity.

"Uh- I'm just dropping off the scuba gear." He awkwardly steps inside, his eyes darting around as if he's unsure where to look. "What are- what are you doing... here?"

You stare at him for a few seconds, incredulous. Was he being serious? "It's my boyfriend's boat," you say pointedly, your tone making it clear just how obvious the answer should have been. John B's face flushes with embarrassment.

"It's also the only place with air conditioning, so Rafe and I are staying here," you add, but before you can finish, John B rudely cuts you off. "Rafe is here?" His tone is sharp, almost accusatory.

You purse your lips, irritated by the interruption. "Yeah. And I don't think he'll be too happy seeing you here again." You cross your arms, the weight of your words hanging in the air.

Deciding to change the topic, your eyes flicker down to the scuba tanks in his hands. "Did you top up the tanks?" you ask, trying to keep your tone neutral but firm. John B's eyes widen slightly before he averts his gaze. "Uh... no. The power's down, so the compressors were off." He clears his throat, shifting uncomfortably.

"So, you're sneaking onto our boat at 5 a.m. with empty tanks?" you retort, tilting your head to the side and nibbling on your bottom lip. Your piercing stare makes him even more nervous. He fumbles for words, glancing around as if looking for an escape. "I'll... I'll make sure to tell Ward," you add, your voice laced with an unspoken threat.

You give him a tight-lipped smile, then turn back around to get a cup, signaling the end of the conversation. Your movements are deliberate, each one emphasizing your displeasure as you busy yourself, leaving John B to contemplate his next move in silence.

"Okay, okay. Cool. Cool," his voice trails off, a nervous edge betraying his attempt at nonchalance. "Just drop these off," he adds hastily, the clattering of the tanks echoing in the confined space. "Yeah, yeah, the middle of the room is fine," you retort, your tone laced with sarcasm as you shoot him a disapproving look.

"Yeah, this is pretty much what he told me to do," he offers weakly, his gaze shifting uncomfortably under your scrutiny. "Bye!" you dismiss him, turning away to retreat back to your room. But just as you begin to leave, John B interrupts again.

"Actually, you know, what- what exactly were you gonna tell Ward?" His laughter sounds forced, a feeble attempt to mask his anxiety. You feign innocence, shrugging casually. "Nothing much. Just that you poached their scuba gear," you reply, your words dripping with casual indifference.

John B's panic is palpable, his eyes widening in alarm. "Calm down, John B. Don't get your knickers all tied up in a knot. I'll tell them what really happened," you reassure him with a sly smile. "The compressors were down, right?" Without waiting for his response, you pivot on your heels and make your way back to Rafe.

"What took you so long?" Rafe's voice is muffled against the pillow as he reaches out for you, his eyes still heavy with sleep. You gently slide into bed beside him, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. "John B was here," you respond quietly.

At the mention of John B's name, Rafe perks up, his expression shifting from drowsy to alert in an instant. "John B was here? What the fuck was he doing here?" He throws the blankets off of him, the sudden motion jolting him awake as he hurriedly begins to dress.

"Rafe," you try to interject, but he doesn't seem to hear you over his rising agitation. "Rafe!" you raise your voice slightly, finally catching his attention. "He's gone now," you reassure him, though the tension in the air remains palpable.

"Well, what was he doing on my boat this early in the morning and- and what did I fucking tell you about not talking to that pogue, hmm?" Rafe's voice is sharp, his grip on your forearm tight as he confronts you, his frustration evident.

"He poached your scuba gear, Rafe. And he was trying to sneak them back without anyone noticing," you explain calmly, meeting his gaze evenly as you observe the conflicting emotions playing across his features.

"Shit. Wait until dad hears about this," Rafe mutters, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips despite his anger, a familiar gleam of mischief in his eyes.

~

Walking out to the backyard to retrieve your sunglasses, the warm sunlight filtering through the trees, you feel a sudden grip on your arm. Startled, you turn to see John B standing there, his expression tense with anger.

"What-" you begin, but he cuts you off sharply. "I just got fired because of you, and I know you can't imagine that, but some people need jobs so that they can eat," he accuses, his voice dripping with resentment. In his frustration, he slaps away the sunglasses you were holding, the clatter as they hit the ground echoing in the quiet backyard.

Before you can respond, the tension is shattered by the sound of Rafe's voice. "What the fuck do you think you're doin', man?" His tone is menacing as he strides over to where the two of you are standing, his demeanor radiating fury.

Rafe's sudden appearance catches John B off guard, but he stands his ground, his jaw clenched in defiance. "Y/n, get your ass inside," Rafe commands without even sparing you a glance, his attention solely focused on John B.

"But-" you attempt to protest, but Rafe's next words cut you off sharply. "Now!" His voice is commanding, sending a shiver down your spine. With a timid nod, you obey, hurrying back into the comforting embrace of Tannyhill.

Around 10 minutes later, Rafe strides back into his room, his footsteps heavy with a mix of frustration and determination. As soon as you see him, you jump up from the bed and wrap your arms around him in a tight embrace. He's slightly taken aback by the sudden gesture but responds by pulling you closer, his embrace firm and reassuring, his hand gently stroking your hair.

"Are you okay? What happened?" you ask, concern evident in your voice as you pull back to look at him. It's only then that you notice the bruise forming around his eye, and your worry deepens.

"Yeah, don't worry about me. That pogue will soon find out he fucked up," Rafe says, his voice edged with a quiet resolve as he gazes off into the distance, his thoughts elsewhere.

"What- Rafe-" you begin, but he brushes past you and opens his drawers, pulling out a gun. Your heart drops at the sight, fear coursing through your veins. "Rafe," you whisper, your voice trembling with apprehension. "Please don't do anything stupid, please."

He turns to face you, the gun in his hand, but his expression softens into a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, sweetheart. He won't be bothering us anymore very soon," he reassures you, his tone calm yet filled with a chilling determination that sends a shiver down your spine.

Imagine we had a Drew Starkey event for all us stans and we all put our money together and get him to go 💞💞