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Fics

Stupid little thought after brainstorming. I know I know, I should be working on the request I got because I’ve only gotten a few so far but I wanted to feed you guys something while I finished that up.

Description: yandere jock, heavy bullying, bully to friend unnamed yandere, he’s just called yandere jock throughout the story cuz I don’t think he’ll be an oc unless people are interested. Also for the life of me I could not find a book that was like soaked even though I was searching soaked muddy book aesthetic for ages LMFAO.

Yandere jock that just can’t help but watch the little quiet kid in the corner, he just wondered what you did all day. You were quiet, meek, and didn’t do anything.

He had never bothered to look at you before so why now? He watched you interact with the few friends you had in your classes. He knew you didn’t have any actual friends other than some classmates you spoke to. He knew you were rather boring but you still somehow peaked his interest. There was something about you that couldn’t stop him from trying to find out more.

He followed you home once and also couldn’t help but wonder what the inside of your house looked like. His curiosity beat the best of him and he broke into your house the same night! Of course he made sure you didn’t know, but he had to see what your room looked like too! Since he was there why wouldn’t he?

Same guy who would randomly start to poke and make fun of you. It started one day and never stopped, he would jab at your choice in clothing, how you never talked, anything about you? He would make fun of you for it. Even if it was normal and rather bland thing he would find a way to bully you about it!

Of course, nothing was done about the bullying. It was rather unnoticed at your school, it wasn’t uncommon to see a person humiliate another. You were just an unlucky person who was the victim.

You didn’t do anything about the bullying since this was a well known guy at the school. He was attractive, athletic, and very good with people. He had many friends, and everybody loved him! So what if he had a few cheating scandals with every short relationship he got in? Nobody cared! He was cool and that wasn’t going to ruin his reputation.

You were at your usual spot in the school gardening area. Nobody went there unless it was the gardening club after-school. You were sat on a little brick lining to give plants a little leverage from the ground. You heard footsteps and a painfully recognizable voice stop in front of you that sneered at you.

“What are you doing? Do you really have no fucking friends that you read your little books here?” He laughed so hard as if a award winning comedian had told him a joke.

“Uhm.. yeah.” You mumbled to yourself.

“Can you speak any fucking lower? You’re so pathetic” He snatched your book away from you and you got up quickly trying to retrieve it.

“Please don’t! It’s the schools book! It’s not mine!” Your urgent tone wasn’t for show. The book was expensive because of the length and quality of it. You knew you wouldn’t be able to pay for it if he destroyed it!

“That’s even better” He grinned throwing the book in a puddle that had formed under a hose’s doing. You saw it splash back under your bully’s shoe as he further destroyed it. Smushing it made it so it was now muddy and soaked.

You didn’t want to cry, you sat down trying your best to keep it in. Your throat burned as you felt a lump that was developing through your throat.

Please don’t cry right now please don’t please please please

Tears forced themselves out of your eyes, it stung and your face reddened. You were embarrassed but you couldn’t help it. You were upset and sad about the book.

The reason of your tears was a little stunned that you were crying. The balls of your palms were in your eyes as you tried to cover them. Tears ran down your face to your cheeks and your pants. He didn’t think you would actually cry? You never cried whenever he bullied you, so why now?

“Ah-.. why are you crying..?” He was a little awkward. He didn’t know you were going to be like that.

You didn’t say anything but just let out a sob. You just sat there.. and sobbed.

“H-hey! I’m sorry just stop crying! Look I’ll pay for your book. I didn’t realize it was so important!” He quickly said. His hands waved in the air in a flustered manner. He wanted you to stop crying.

Once he realized that you were still crying he picked up your book and swiped off excess muddy water as much as he could. He tried smiling as he handed it to you.

You stared at the book and took it in your hands. Still upset a few more tears raced down as you sniffled.

“I’ll pay for it I swear! Just stop crying, okay?” He said after noticing your wavering expression. He was still shocked that you were even crying over a book. Not all the insults he threw at you, not the intense bullying he did, just a book? You were so weird..

“Okay..” All you could say was okay. You didn’t want to speak further, your hands clenched around the book as you left as quickly as you could. He tried chasing after you, not thinking you would leave so quickly.

“Hey! Hey wait up!” He grabbed your shoulder after rather effortlessly catching up to you.

You looked up at him, eyelashes wet from salty tears, slightly red eyes as well. Your face obviously showed signs of freshly recent sobbing that he has just seen. His heart actually ached seeing you like that. Yeah, of course, he would see your irritated and defeated face when he bullied you but not this one.

“Let me buy it right now, okay? And then I’ll buy you something from lunch? Does that sound good?” He spoke in a sickly sweet tone as if you were an upset kid. It weirded you out that he was trying to act nice now.

“m’ fine, just go away please..!” You kept marching on while this so called ideal of a man kept following you.

“Cmon, I’m trying to be nice!” He insisted.

“I don’t care! You’re being fucking weird go away!!” You ran off finally speaking some of your mind. This time you weren’t chased by an athletic guy that you probably shouldn’t have been running from in the first place.

The next few days were rather quiet. No tall intimidating guy that would bully you. Just your regular silence that you didn’t know you would miss so much before he showed up in your life.

That’s until he started bugging you again. Trying to give you little trinkets and gifts. What was he aiming to get? Your gratitude?

You were sat again in the garden area, despite knowing he discovered your spot.

He walked in and you both immediately met eyes. You quickly tried getting up before he told you to sit down and sat down next to you.

“Listen I’m sorry, I feel bad for bullying you.”

“Why are you apologizing now..?” You were so genuinely confused.

“I don’t know myself, I just didn’t feel good after seeing you cry. It made me feel weird, I didn’t like it.”

“So this is just because you’re guilty?” You stared at him blankly with a disgusted look on your face. One you couldn’t hide even if you tried.

“Ugh, I don’t know! Just let me buy you stuff so it’s not so awkward!” He sighed.

“You never even let me buy that book for you, so we’re going to go get it now!” He looked at you and grabbed your hand, leading you to the library that you were so fond of.

“I don’t want to go with you! I forgive you, just stop bothering me” You whined about having to go spend time with him.

“I’m buying this book for you, I don’t care what you say”

“You’re so annoying!”

These events were probably the ones that led up to that same jock following you all the time like a puppy. He was now your friend unfortunately, he was much nicer than before and properly apologized once you let him.

He treated you fairly, not mocking or bullying you anymore. He treated you way better it was a little unsettling. You just assumed after him seeing you cry that was him drawing the line. Which was a really strange place to draw the line.

He would buy you gifts as soon as you said you were interested in something, he would ward off any potential friends predators by getting naturally touchy with you, basically becoming your body guard.

He still kept up his daily stalking, sometimes being able to come over if he begged enough.

What a weirdo!

Next Level, Space Level - KNJ (18+)

Pairing: Namjoon X Fem!Reader

Theme: Smut, PWP, infidelity au, a hint of angst

Summary: How can Namjoon deny you when you are ready to give yourself to him?

Word count: 1442

Warnings: Strong language, mentions of cheating, infidelity, blow job, Joon cums of her tits, reader is just evil, poor Jimin. Strictly 18+ (MDNI)

A/N: this is an output of listening to Smoke Sprite way too much. Haha! Enjoy!

****************

It's raining again. Even though Namjoon likes rain in general, he has grown a distaste towards it these days. Especially because it's raining too fucking much, everything is wet, his laundries won't dry up, and he won't stop recalling you. Or the way your body felt underneath him, the way his hands fitted perfectly on your curves, the way you moaned out his name like chanting a mantra. That night his desire won but for the rest of the time his guilt has been ruling his mind.

How ironic, he left his last girlfriend because she cheated on him, claiming he hates cheaters. But now is he anything different? He can't deny the fact that he has been attracted to you since the very first day Jimin introduced you to him as his girlfriend. He often thought of fucking you dumb in his dimly lit studio but he never ever actually thought he would do that in reality. And now he was a sinner. He fucked one of his closest friends' girlfriend behind his back. But that's the point. He regrets because you're Jimin's girlfriend and not because he fucked you. How can he regret something so infuriatingly sensual and satisfying when that's all he really wanted, along with you.

His hands feel clammy as he unlocks the door of the dorm. The calmness of the atmosphere tells him that he is the only one here until he sees light coming from Jimin's room. Another gush of guilt fills his chest.

He heads towards the kitchen avoiding every thought and grabs a can of beer. He almost chokes on the beer as he puts too much force in gulping down the bitter-sour liquid. However, he almost spits everything out when he feels someone encircling their hands around his torso.

He whips his head around to find you staring up at him with those impossibly beautiful eyes. Your lean hands hold him even tighter in his place, as he panics.

"Y/N? Wh-what are you doing?" He asks, scanning the dorm once.

"Jimin isn't here. Nobody is here. It's only you and me Joon." You say, a devilish smirk spreads on your lips.

You tiptoe and place a kiss on his lips. It would be so much of a domestic sight only if you weren't his bandmate slash close friend slash younger brother's girlfriend.

Namjoon's hand itches. He wants to rub your sides, hold you close, trace your curves and so much more, but he knows it's wrong. Terribly wrong.

"It's wrong, Y/N" he whispers. You start to place small kisses on his broad built chest through the fabric of his tshirt.

"I know. I know it's wrong. But I can't resist you Joon. You are all I can think of since that night." You whisper in between your kisses. Your voice creates a soft vibration on his chest. How can he push you away when you are willing to give yourself to him, that too like this. But still he has to push you away. One night was enough to drive him off the edge now he doesn't want to get addicted to you.

He finally pushes you away and that's when he sees you well with the help of the faint light coming from the dining area.

You are the personification of sin and lust. Gosh! How can someone ever resist you? You are wearing a pitch black silk robe with (probably) nothing underneath. Your nipples are perked up, a good amount of your collarbone and cleavage are on display for him. One of your bare legs comes to his view and only he knows how much he want to bury his face between them.

"Like what you see?" You say, smirking at him as if it's no big deal. He doesn't say anything, rather chooses to walk past you and head towards the dining room.

He could have just gone to his room, locked it and ignored you. But something keeps him lingering near you. And that something is, lust, lust for you.

He leans his head on the backrest of the couch and closes his eyes, he doesn't see you coming towards him. He only realises your presence when you start to sit on his lap, totally unannounced. He gets startled at first, however, that doesn't mean he is not enjoying the way your bare legs press on his bare ones or the way your core is pressing on his semi-hard cock.

"Y/N pl- fuck!" His words get interrupted as you start to grind hard. His eyes close as if they have minds of their own.

But he is a man of control, he holds your sides tightly and looks straight into your eyes.

"Y/N! No!" He whispers, his voice is barely audible even to himself. Maybe because that's not what he wants. He doesn't want you to stop but he has no choice, has he?

"Why? Why Joon? I know you want me as much as I do, then why?" You ask him, voice a bit louder than usual.

"Y/N, you're Jimin's girlfriend! Why don't you understand."

"Thanks for reminding me but that never slipped my mind. Jimin is fine but you are the one that I want. And you want me just as much. Just tell me once that you never thought of what happened between us that night? Tell me that you don't like me sitting here on your lap. Tell me that you will stop me if I try to give you a good time that absolutely no one has to know about. Tell me Joon. Look into my eyes and tell me." Your fingers are lost in his dark locks. And with the other hand you start to loosen the tie of your robe.

Your robe pools down on his lap, leaving you completely bare for his eyes. Namjoon's mouth starts to salivate at the sight of your naked chest. Fuck! Who the hell is he to deny you? Tell you that he doesn't want you? What power in the world do you even possess? Are you even a human being? Or are you a siren trying to destroy him piece by piece?

You seem to take chances of his helplessness as you hoist yourself up from his lap and sit on your knees. He looks at you with hooded eyes.

You smirk at him at first and then hook your fingers on the rim of his sweatpants. Pulling them down at once with his boxers you set his dick free. That springs up as if ready to be used by you.

"So big" you murmur to yourself but Joon hears it. His breath hitches when your fingers come into contact with his skin. You pump his dick once and then spit on your palm to lubricate him. A low moan escapes his lips when you give his tip a kitten lick. You chuckle seeing his fucked out state already.

Another kitten lick as you pump his cock again and again. Your tongue draws a circular motion on the head of his cock and he starts to lose himself completely. But he somehow keeps his moans in check.

"Let me hear you Joon. Let me hear how good I'm making you feel." You say before swallowing his dick little by little. You take him as much as you can till you gag with the friction that his cock makes with the back of your throat. And then you start bobbing your head at a slower pace which get faster with each passing second. Namjoon's moans know no bounds as he starts cursing and groaning your name like you did the previous night, forgetting every single care of this world. His hand reaches out for your hair and he grips it hard but not hard enough to hurt you. He pushes you down on his length further and thrusts upward.

And within a few more minutes, his dick starts to twitch inside your mouth.

"Im-I'm close" he breathes out.

You release his dick from your mouth and start pumping it harder. Ropes of cum fly out of the slit of dick and land directly on your tits. Your pretty tits are covered with his cum. The drops tickle down the swell of your breasts and reach your nipples. And then those drop down on your thighs. Fuck! Can there be a sight hotter than this?

"Fuck! Y/N" he says, being dazed by you. You smile at him innocently as you stand up on your legs, collect your robe from the couch and head for Jimin's room.

"Until next time, Joon."

Taglist:

@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life

Binging your writing and I’m actually obsessed with all of this angst! I can’t wait to subscribe to your Patreon today!

Fleeting - JHS (M)

Pairing: Hoseok X Fem!Reader

Theme: Smut, Angst, fwb au

Word count: 1042

Warnings: sexual themes, strong language, protected sex, and a little bit of an argument, fwb to strangers. Minors, go read your text books.

Summary: It's his birthday and you got a surprise for him but maybe not of the good kind.

A/N: I know I'm late.... My personal life is in shambles *Sigh*. But still hope my sunshine had his happiest birthday. And wishes for a great week to all of you as well. Enjoy.

********************

"I.. I am in love with you." The words spill out of his mouth in a very breathy way, almost as if those want to evaporate and disappear in the tense atmosphere of his dark room. 

You roll your hips roughly against his shaft this time as you feel your heat building in your abdomen. You pretend not to hear him. You don't want to hear him spilling those words. 

"Y/N, I love yo- fuck" he attempts to say it again but you cut him off by hoisting yourself up and jumping right back onto his cock like the greedy whore you are. 

"Ssshhh… babyboy. I'm close. Are you too?" You ask him while riding him as if it's the last day of your life. 

"Yes. I'm close. Fuck." He pants. His hands leave the hold of his bedsheet and take control of your tits. He knows you like to be touched there. And he is willing to do anything you like… anything. 

He twists your hardened bud between the thumb and index finger of his right hand. He takes another nipple in his mouth. Swirling his tongue around it, he rips a pretty moan out of your pretty mouth. 

"Suck" you order briefly and he obeys. 

His other hand leaves the engaged tit and follows the trail of your glistening folds. He pinches your clit and you curse. 

"Fuck, hobi! I'm gonna cum." You say. 

"Can we cum together?" He asks. You reply in affirmative by nodding your head. 

He starts rubbing your swollen clit right after receiving your permission. You too, start keeping up with his pace by rolling your hips harder and faster to reach your high together. And within a few moments you came, he followed right after spilling his load in the condom. 

You don't waste time on sliding him out of your cunt even though your limbs barely support your actions. 

You get into the washroom and reel your head back to the earlier incidents. 

Hoseok just confessed to you and you don't know what to do about it. Maybe for other girls of your age, it's a dream come true. Being loved by the person you love is a blessing. But you don't want blessings. You don't want settlement. You know your soul can't be confined within the barriers of love and longing. You need to break-free, that's what you were born for. 

You sigh, looking at your reflection. You know it's gonna break your heart, his heart but there's nothing you can do. Or even if there's something you can do, you're too reluctant to take any step and too greedy for your own freedom. 

You step outside after cleaning yourself and start to look for your discarded clothes. You don't look at him, even though you know he is staring at you. 

"What is your answer?" He asks and you still refuse to glance at him. 

"About what?" You slip into your panties. 

"About my confession, Y/N. What else?" He's annoyed and that's justified.

"Hoseok, no strings attached? Remember?" You finally give him a look, hooking your bra in. 

"Yeah. I know. But you know I have liked you this whole time, you're intelligent enough to trace that out by the way I behave around you. And I know you like me too. So why Y/N? What's wrong?" He's now standing right infront of you. He's looking at you with those beautiful almond eyes and you almost get lost. 

"You're wrong. I don't harbor such feelings for you." You reply, tearing your eyes away from him. 

"You can't even lie, Y/N." He smiles a knowing smile. 

"I am not lying. You know I don't do relationships. You have known me for years." You slip into your jeans walking away from him. 

"That's how I know that you like me back. I have seen you with enough guys to tell." He approaches you again. 

You turn your back at him and shut your eyes tight to control the sob that wants to leave your throat. 

He backhugs you, placing his chin on your bare shoulder. You stay still and let yourself calm down in his embrace. 

"Give me a chance, Y/N. Let's go for some dates. You won't know until you try. Please." He pleads as he places some soft kisses on the back of your shoulder and neck. 

A big sigh leaves your mouth as you prepare yourself to break his heart into pieces. 

"I'm leaving for Norway the day after tomorrow. I got a job there." His hands leave you the moment the words leave your mouth.

You turn to face him again and this time you prepare yourself to be broken. 

"And you chose to let me know now? Today? Just when I have exactly a day left with you?" Hot tears travel down Hoseok's face as he shakes his head lightly in disbelief. The look on his beautiful face makes you feel like a criminal and you probably are a criminal to break his heart like this. He takes a step away from you and no matter how strong you pretend to be, your heart drops into your stomach, that too in pieces. 

"I didn't know it would matter so much to you." You lie. 

"Just like you didn't know it's 35 past twelve and it's my birthday." He pauses, "and if you did, you intentionally chose to do this to me today." 

He is right. You intentionally did it all to him. So that he hates you, forgets you and moves on with his life, so you stay silent. 

You slip into your shirt, grab your bag and walk towards his door. 

You grab the doorknob for one last time, "Happy Birthday Hoseok. Stay blessed." You say before opening the door lightly. 

"And about the feelings part… I love you too. But I can't be the one for you. I'm… I'm extremely sorry." With that you leave his apartment, his life and all the things that could tie you back to this place. 

On the other hand, Hoseok stays still in his room, not knowing what to do about his feelings, about your confession and most importantly about you leaving him on his damned birthday. 

End.

*****************

Taglist:

@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life

he has absolutely no reason to look like this while shaking a bag of fries (ﾟДﾟ*)ﾉ

bonus:

White Lines & White Knights

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, pr*stitution, power imbalance, classism, mentions of death, jealousy, humiliation, revenge p*rn, drug dealer!Rafe, drug use, Pogue!reader

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics

summary: You and Rafe are using each other until you decide that's not what you want anymore, and the spoiled rich kid will do whatever it takes to have his expensive toy back in his bed.

⭑

Your door shut behind you with a resounding click, and once in the comfort of your home, you took the time to decompress. You took advantage of your much needed reprieve, the back of your head grazing the wood as you allowed your eyes to fall closed. Your heart was still beating wildly in your chest, and you wondered if a day would come where it ever wouldn’t. After all, this wasn’t exactly “new” anymore…

It had been five months since you buried your mom, five months since you discovered the mountain of debt she’d done an impressive job of hiding from you, and five months since you thought you’d be homeless on the street in less than one. In two weeks, you’d dealt with a loss you didn’t think you’d have to for at least another forty years or so and took on the kind of responsibility you didn’t think you’d have to for at least another three.

Your mom died 152 days ago…

…and you’d started fucking Rafe Cameron less than a month later.

You liked to pretend to not know why you slept with Kildare’s prime rich boy that fateful Saturday night, but you were far more self aware than you wanted to be. Even if you weren’t, it wasn’t exactly some mysterious string of decisions that lead to being tangled up in the sheets with Sarah’s asshole of an older brother. You didn’t need to pay someone to diagnose you.

You were grieving.

It was really just that simple, and the monetary stress on top of that drove you to find comfort in strange drinks and hard drugs. To this day you still didn’t know if Rafe just happened to be at the right place at the right time or if he heard whispers about John B.’s best friend snorting pills and getting shit faced when her usual crowd was looking the other way, but either way, the stuffy Kook clearly saw an opportunity to kill several birds with one stone.

“First two lines are free,” he’d told you that night, the bass of the music downstairs muffled by the expensive walls of some girl’s house.

You remembered how you’d chuckled, drunkenly shaking your head.

“Well, two lines is all I’m doing, I guess,” you’d murmured, throwing your hands up.

Rafe’s smirk had been cruel, a mocking glint in his blue eyes.

“What?” he’d dragged out, head tilted. “Spent all that life insurance money, already?”

Any other time and Rafe’s insensitivity might’ve upset you, but at the time you’d been drunk out of your mind and looking for more ways to forget the sudden absence in your life.

“I can’t imagine why Sarah hates you,” you’d sarcastically replied, approaching the impressive desk and leaning over to inhale a line.

You wiped your nose as you straightened, lashes fluttering as you ignored the feeling of Rafe’s gaze on you.

“I’ll be lucky if I even have a house to live in next week.”

The words had come out slurred, accompanied by a light chuckle, and deep down you’d felt the flutter of stress that you’d been desperately ignoring for weeks. You’d quickly snorted the other line, closing your eyes for a moment.

“Turns out my mom was skilled at hiding more than just illnesses…”

You remembered the silence—from both you and Rafe—and how in that moment you’d allowed yourself a solid four seconds of lingering on the reality of your predicament. In those four seconds, your eyes had watered and your lips had trembled and your throat had tightened, and after those four seconds, you were turning to Rafe with a haughty smile.

“Guess you won’t be finding a new client in me, huh?” you’d wondered with a shrug, finding a seat on the desk.

Rafe’s blue gaze had been unreadable as he eyed you, sitting in the chair at the desk, legs spread as he ran his eyes over you—slowly and in a way you didn’t hate at the time. You hadn’t been able to tell what he was thinking, although looking back, you wondered how it wasn’t so obvious to you then. Maybe because it was just too cruel of a thought, and while it was no secret Rafe was a spoiled asshole, you had never once thought of him as cruel.

Rafe had merely shrugged.

“There’s plenty of fish in the sea,” he’d slowly said, the corner of his pink lips curving upwards just a tad. “Besides…”

You’d watched him stand, rounding the desk to come and tower over you where you sat.

“I like to think of myself as a pretty ethical kind of guy…”

You’d started to snort at that before his gaze met yours again, and you found yourself swallowing whatever you were about to say. You hadn’t done a thing when Rafe reached up to touch your arm, the feel of his finger so light. You hadn’t wanted to acknowledge the way your heart skipped a beat at both his close proximity and the change in atmosphere. You hadn’t been able to ignore—however—the heat that settled in the pit of your stomach.

“...and I’ve been known to meet people halfway. Accept whatever they can offer…”

You remembered your internal conflict that night.

You’d been drunk and high and sad…not stupid. You knew exactly what Rafe was insinuating to you, and you’d struggled with the idea of really sleeping with Rafe Cameron for more drugs. The man was far from unattractive, sure that if drugs weren’t involved you’d still consider sleeping with him. If you’d believed in any of that, you’d imagine that your mom was turning over in her grave. At the time though, you hadn’t been quite sure as to what you believed in, so when he took your silence for consent, leaning in and touching your nose with his…

You hadn’t stopped him when he closed the distance.

You hadn’t even known whose house you were at, only internally apologizing to them for having sex on their expensive desk. You didn’t know if it was the drugs or the alcohol or simply Rafe Cameron, but it was easily the best sex you’d ever had in your life, and at one point you’d really considered how much better it could possibly be to fuck him without the condom.

You had no idea that you’d eventually find out.

Once dressed, you’d walked home with a small bag of pills and a satisfied grin. You knew that your friends would host some kind of intervention if they ever found out, but all you’d been able to focus on was the simple fact that fucking Rafe Cameron for a little coke and pills wasn’t sounding like the worst idea. Of course, if you’d known that you’d eventually start fucking him for your livelihood, you might’ve made different choices that night.

You pressed your hand to your face and pushed away from the door, eager to start the shower and scrub the stench of him off of you. Per routine, you took the money out of your pocket before getting undressed, eyeing the wad of one hundreds that now sat on your nightstand. Two grand was nothing to someone like him, but to someone like you, it made all the difference in the world.

…and Rafe knew that.

He’d known that when he handed you a thousand dollars one night, the coke in your system just starting to hit. You’d looked up at him from where you sat in confusion, hesitantly wrapping your hand around the money as you alternated between eyeing it and eyeing him. You hadn’t known how to feel about it, especially since it had only been moments ago when he was inside of you…and there he was handing you a grand in hundreds.

“Don’t look like that,” Rafe had chuckled, walking to his dresser in search of a shirt. “You know you need the money.”

He wasn’t wrong…and that was the problem.

Unless you hit a lucky streak in life, you’d always need the money, and that was exactly why you were in the predicament you were in—four months later and putting up with the monster that was Rafe Cameron just to keep a roof over your head. The thought brought tears to your eyes, positive now that your mom could see you and was beyond disappointed in you. 

Her disappointment could only be outdone by your own.

You were in a situation that you couldn’t get out of, on the verge of ending this arrangement so many times before asking yourself what better way could you pay your mom’s debts and survive? It wasn’t easy money by far, but it was fast money, and it was the kind of money that would take months to make at whatever low paying job you’d find around Outer Banks. Someone like you rarely got hired at the country club or working for some rich snob who wiped their ass with the kind of money you needed.

Rafe knew this too.

Tears kissed your eyes as you scrubbed your skin raw, wishing that you could scrub away the nasty bruise right along with the sweat and grime. You winced every time you touched it, cursing the blond and feeling one of those moments where you considered blocking him and moving on from this pathetic era in your life for good.

Fucking Rafe Cameron for drugs didn’t seem like a bad idea at the time, fucking him for money seemed like an even better one…until that entitled attitude started to extend to the woman he was paying good money to have access to. You remembered the first time you opposed something he wanted to do, the way in which he ignored you, the way he merely pressed your face into the pillow to shut you up.

It was the first time you felt truly icky about this whole situation.

Not even just icky.

…but afraid.

“I don’t pay you to tell me what you will and won’t do in bed,” he’d chuckled at you like it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard.

You’d still been trembling and wiping mascara from your cheeks.

“I pay you because I want to fuck you,” he’d slowly whispered to you, leaning in. “...and you let me because you don’t want to be sleeping on the beach.”

He’d held your gaze for what felt like too long, impressing upon you the true dynamic of this arrangement, and you remembered the unease that had festered in your gut that day. Maybe all the drugs and alcohol hadn’t allowed you to fully look at this arrangement for what it was and the power imbalance here, but you had for the first time that day, and you hadn’t liked it.

You liked it even less now, wrapping the towel around you and wondering how you were ever going to get out of this predicament you’d put yourself into.

“My family’s going out of town for the weekend,” the familiar blond mumbled to you as he inhaled a familiar powdery substance off the back of his hand. “Pack a bag when you get home, and I’ll pick you up tomorrow night.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at that, huffing instead.

“I can’t spend the whole weekend on Figure 8,” you told him. “I have plans.”

Rafe nodded, and you hated the smile that danced across his lips.

“Okay, uh, be ready at 8, I don’t want-.”

“Rafe, I’m serious,” you cut him off, shrugging. “I can’t stay at your house all weekend.”

You watched him watch you, slowly swiping his tongue between his lips as a frown started to take over. His dirty blond hair kissed his brows, and the longer the silence stretched, the more nervous you grew. You watched as Rafe glanced away, seemingly deep in thought before those baby blues of his rested on you, much colder than they were a few seconds ago.

“What the hell am I paying you for?” he whispered.

The question was rhetorical, and you swallowed.

“Rafe…I’ve barely seen my friends in months. I finally made plans to meet up with them for more than five minutes and-.”

“...and whose fault is that?” he shrugged.

You frowned at him.

“Nobody told you to go off on a bender when your mom kicked the bucket…” you blinked at his callousness. “Maybe you should’ve been finding comfort in your friends instead of drugs and vodka…and me.”

He finished his sentence with a soft—and yet cruel—smile.

“I pay you good money—great money even!—to be available when I want you to be, and unless you’ve found some other rich asshole to open your legs for, which I doubt…be ready tomorrow at 8.”

He was standing, now, looking down at you where you sat on the bed. The harsh reminder of your roles here had you looking away, and Rafe turned away when he rightfully took your silence as confirmation. You stared at the wall for a few moments before turning to stare at his back, thinking to yourself that this couldn’t go on much longer. Whether it took 1 or 5 jobs, you couldn’t keep relying on Rafe Cameron forever.

What was once a weekly occurrence had turned into something entirely other, and it hadn’t bothered you so much when your mother’s death was still so fresh and you were seeking solace in the worst coping mechanisms known to man—including isolation. Now, however, you were waking up to the choices you’d made and you hated the feeling of being inebriated and being surrounded by people you barely knew.

You hated being away from your friends.

“I didn’t even know you’d gotten a job,” John B. said to you hours later, looking disappointed but understanding. “JJ’s gonna be real disappointed. He’s been talking all week about having you try some new weed he got.”

You gave a light laugh at that, a pang in your chest at how much you missed doing stupid shit with them.

“Yeah,” you sadly said. “The world—and bills—doesn’t stop just because my mom died.”

The brunette grew quiet at that, worriedly eyeing you now.

“You doing okay…?”

You sighed at that, looking out over the yard of The Chateau, fiddling with your fingers as you thought of a certain blond.

“I’ve been better, but…I’ve been worse too.”

Your answer was honest, and you briefly wondered what John B. would think if he knew just how bad ‘worse’ had been. You didn’t think any of them would hate you if they knew the full extent of just how far you’d fallen, but you knew they’d have a hard time wrapping their head around it. The drugs and alcohol were one thing, but Rafe Cameron was entirely another. The man was the worst example of a Kook if there was one, representing every bad trait attributed to them.

Your friends would not understand you essentially sacrificing your self respect for money and drugs.

Sometimes you didn’t understand it either. 

Most especially when Rafe had his hands around your neck.

He picked you up at 8 on the dot Friday night—a man of his word if nothing else—and less than a hour later you were bent over his father’s desk as he pounded into you. Your head was hanging off of it, fighting hard to not scrape your nails against the dark mahogany. It wasn’t the first time Rafe fucked you on Ward’s desk, and you doubted that it would be the last time. There’d even been a few rare occasions when he fucked you in the older man’s bed, and you didn’t know what complex the blond had that fueled these decisions, but you weren’t a psychologist so you figured it wasn’t anything to concern yourself with.

Despite the tight grip on your throat, a choked moan managed to escape every time Rafe pushed his cock into you. Sweat made his skin glisten, and you were sure you fared no better. His hair wasn’t so neat, now, and you had the stray thought that you preferred it that way. Rafe being so far from ugly definitely made this arrangement easier to swallow down at times, but other times it just made you angry.

How was it fair that someone seemingly had everything, including the big dick to match?

Rafe walked around like he was God’s gift to the world, possessing one of the most rotten personalities you’d ever had the pleasure of being on the receiving end of, and he seemed to be rewarded with it with everything the average person could only dream about. As if any of that wasn’t enough, you practically rewarded him with even more by essentially telling him he could do whatever he wanted so long as the price was right.

It made you disgusted with yourself at times.

When he pressed a hand to your stomach, hips slowing to a pace that made your breath hitch, you squeezed your eyes shut. In the quiet office, the sound of his cock disappearing between your folds was loud, the wet noise telling you that there’d no doubt be a mess left on Ward’s desk when this was all said and done. You heard Rafe curse, and you didn’t have the energy to lift your head from where it hung off the desk.

“...and to think,” he panted from above you. “You were going to pass this up to sit around with those dirty Pogues.”

At this, you did attempt to sit up, a hand against his chest and one on the desk as he thrusted into you.

“Those ‘dirty Pogues’ are my friends,” you forced out, lashes fluttering. “...and clearly you forget that I’m one too.”

Rafe merely chuckled at that, perfect teeth winking at you as he grinned.

“Yeah, but you’re my dirty Pogue so it’s a little different.”

His words had your frown deepening, disgust filling your chest at the way he talked about you while literally fucking you. Completely turned off, you turned your head away, attempting to separate yourself from him. That haughty laugh reached your ears, and to your dismay, he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer.

“What…?” he lazily drawled. “You don’t like the sound of that?”

“You’re being an asshole, get off of me…”

He jerked his hips against you, making you gasp, and you squirmed in his arms as you fought to get away. Rafe leaned in to harshly nip his teeth at your cheek, his movements growing rough, causing the desk to shake.

“I’ve spent too much money on you to not say whatever the hell I want,” he evenly said. “So, yeah, at this point, I’ll confidently say I practically own you.”

Tears kissed your eyes at the disgusting words, and fed up with your resistance, Rafe merely placed a hand between your breasts before harshly shoving you back down. You winced at the action, but you had no time to fully linger on it as Rafe started to roughly plunge his cock into you, the sound of his skin slapping against yours reaching your ears. He wouldn’t allow you to sit up, both of his hands wrapped around your wrists now as he leaned over you.

This felt too reminiscent of the time he’d pressed your face into the bed, telling you to relax as he pressed the head of his cock just above where your folds were. You recalled the uncomfortable feeling and the tears that stained the pillow as he slowly fucked you in a place no one ever had before. The deja vu of it all had your mind wandering, eyes defocusing as you just waited for it to be over. It seemed like Rafe’s grunts sounded from above you forever, and when he finally came onto your stomach with a low moan, you didn’t move for some time.

You were slow to sit up as he got dressed, trembling as you steaded yourself for what you were about to say.

“I don’t wanna do this anymore.”

The words came out whispered, but in the quiet study, you might as well have yelled them. Rafe didn’t acknowledge you, and you knew it wasn’t because he hadn’t heard you. Frustrated with his refusal to take you seriously, you hopped off of Ward’s desk, angrily grabbing your clothes.

“I’m serious, Rafe. After this weekend…this is done,” you continued, voice firmer, now. “Don’t call me or text me or worry about any more money. I can’t rely on you forever anyway.”

By now, Rafe was actually listening to you, and you avoided his gaze as you got dressed. His silence was loud, and when you were finally decent again, only then did you lift your gaze to glance at him. His visage was unreadable, and after some time, he merely blinked at you.

“If I remember correctly, per your own words, your mom had enough debt ‘to file for bankruptcy’.”

His words made you sharply inhale, and you bit your tongue as he ran his hands through his hair in a poor attempt to tame the damp locks.

“Don’t ruin your life just because you’re pissed at me,” he coldly added.

You crossed your arms over your chest, pulling your lip between your teeth.

“Personal feelings aside, I can’t rely on you forever, Rafe. That’s just the truth. I have to figure something out eventually, and there’s no time like the present,” your voice shook as he fixed you with an unnerving stare. “I miss my friends, and I don’t want to be the sad, damaged girl running to Rafe Cameron just so I don’t feel anything anymore.”

The blond followed your lead, folding his arms over his own chest as he leaned against the wall, staring you down with that annoying crooked smile.

“...and where exactly do you plan to find a job that pays you what I do?”

“There are jobs, Rafe. I’ll find one.”

You didn’t appreciate his tone nor the look he was giving you as he studied you. He was looking down on you, and yes while that wasn’t exactly an unusual occurrence, this time was different. He was looking down his nose like he didn’t believe in you, like he expected you to be crawling back to him in no time, begging him to fuck you again.

After a few moments, that crooked smile curved even more, and you didn’t miss the glint in his eyes.

“Well, I wish you luck…”

His voice didn’t match the words that came out of his mouth, and his gaze most certainly didn’t.

“I literally called this morning and was told over the phone that you all were hiring...and now I get here, and I’m being told you’re not…?”

You tried to keep the skepticism out of your tone, but your frustration at your predicament was bubbling up and threatening to be unleashed on the lone man before you. The inside of the country club was practically empty—a slow Tuesday—and you briefly glanced around at the two staffers in the whole room. Sure, you could write it off to a slow day that didn’t need a full staff, but something in you told you that it was more than that.

You didn’t believe the man in front of you.

“Look, I don’t know what else to tell you, miss. Whoever you talked to got it wrong. I’m sorry for the miscommunication on our end,” was his only explanation.

You didn’t dare bother to point out that both he and whoever you’d spoken with on the phone sounded damn near identical.

When it became obvious that this conversation was over, you turned away with a small huff, breezing outside to a familiar dark car. Kie was standing by it, arms uncomfortably crossed over her chest, glaringly obvious that she’d rather be anywhere but here despite being from ‘here’.

“Well…?” she wondered as you got closer.

“They’re not hiring,” you mumbled as you slid into the passenger seat.

She joined you inside the vehicle a moment later, a frown on her face.

“...but you called.”

“I know.”

There was a beat of silence before she scoffed, reaching for her door handle.

“If this is because you aren’t some rich snob looking for play money…”

She trailed off when you spoke up.

“No, I don’t…I don’t think it’s that,” you stopped her. “Let’s just go.”

She eyed you for a few moments, frown deepening.

“Are you sure? Y/N, this is like the fourth place you’ve been to today,” she pointed out. “...and I don’t want to add my stress to your stress, but it’s kind of fucked up.”

You didn’t have the heart to tell her that it wasn’t possible for you to be any more stressed than you already were, simply signaling for her to drive. You could feel her eyes periodically landing on you as she did, and you chewed on the inside of your cheek, wondering why the universe had it out for you.

It had been weeks since you’d last seen or talked to Rafe, weeks since you ended your little arrangement, and weeks since you’d had a consistent source of income. It wasn’t a pretty nor respectable way to make money, but you’d been making money nonetheless. However, you couldn’t find it in you to continue sacrificing your self respect to keep sleeping with Rafe Cameron. You’d also been telling the truth when you told him you didn’t want to be this messed up sad thing anymore.

You had long let go of the drugs and cut back on the drinking, and now you’d dropped Rafe too.

You’d had hope…but now it was dwindling.

No one would hire you. In fact, no one had even allowed you far enough to officially apply just to get a foot into an interview. It was always the same. You’d call ahead so you didn’t waste your time, they’d tell you they were looking for people, and then the moment you actually showed up and introduced yourself, it was an entirely different story. It didn’t make any sense to you, and the thought of ever proving Rafe right made you want to be sick.

“How bad is it?” JJ asked you a few days later, the both of you away and isolated in some corner of some guy’s party.

You looked down at the weak drink in your hand, contemplating on whether or not to be honest.

“It’s…manageable.”

A whopper of a lie.

“...then why don’t I believe you? Come on, Y/N, it’s me. I know your mom wasn’t the best when it came to funds, and when she died…” he scoffed. “You weren’t exactly in any shape to march down to anyone’s job and fight for work just to keep things afloat.”

You looked away at that, throat tight.

“I’m honestly shocked you’ve kept it up for this long.”

If only he knew…

You felt his gaze on you as you wondered just how truthful you should be, but you reminded yourself that this was JJ. If he knew the full extent of everything, he’d be likely to rob a bank. Nevermind the fact that it would just make him ask more questions, like how you’d even managed to keep things afloat all this time. You didn’t think you could lie to him, and you didn’t think you could handle being on the receiving end of whatever look JJ would undoubtedly give you if you told him you’d been sleeping with Rafe to pay your bills.

You didn’t know if it was fortunate or unfortunate that the subject of your thoughts walked through the doors to prevent this conversation from continuing. His presence shouldn’t have shocked you—the party was pretty mixed with people from all sides of the island after all—but it still gave you pause, and JJ noticed.

“This asshole,” you heard the blond murmur, rolling his eyes.

You were inclined to agree, and you shrunk in on yourself with your drink, unable to ignore the knowledge that Rafe was at the same party you were at. In the weeks you’d been free of him, you’d had time to really ponder on your dalliance, and while you’d long accepted your hand in your own life choices, it was now hard to ignore Rafe’s own opportunistic choices in the situation. Sure, yes, you fucked him for money…

…but what did it say about him that he was perfectly happy to enter an arrangement in which he kept you off of the streets so long as you opened your legs for him?

If he was a good guy he’d just…keep you off the streets.

Like JJ would if you ever told him the truth.

You’d just decided to stop hiding in the bathroom when you came face to face with the man himself, heart skipping a beat at his presence. He was leaning against the wall next to the door, and you had the sneaking suspicion he hadn’t been waiting for his turn.

“How’s the job search going?” was how he greeted you, and you hadn’t been able to keep the ire off of your face.

He softly laughed to himself at that, nodding.

“I figured you’d look a little something like that.”

“Fuck you,” you breathed, and Rafe frowned, tilting his head to the side.

“You were, remember? And then you stopped…and that’s how you found yourself back at square one,” he reminded you.

The music traveled from downstairs into the dimly lit hallway, and you looked away from him just as he heaved a tired sigh.

“Do I need to apologize for calling you and your friends dirty Pogues? Is that what this is about?” he lazily wondered.

You didn’t dignify that with a response, and when you lifted your gaze, Rafe was rolling his eyes. He fixed you with a look, reaching up to touch your hair with a tsk.

“Come on, Y/N. You need me…”

He leaned in.

“We both know it, and you’re never going to find a job in this town.”

“You don’t know that,” you fired back, slapping his hand away as you took a step away from him.

Almost instantaneously, Rafe’s entire expression morphed, and you swallowed at the shadow that passed over his features. His pink lips pressed together, and those blue eyes hardened in a way you’d never been on the receiving end of. You watched his nostrils flare.

“Oh, trust me, I know.”

The combination of his tone and his expression and his words gave you pause, and your brows pulled together as you stared at him. For a moment, the music in the house faded into the background as Kie’s words came to your mind. ‘It’s kind of messed up’, she’d said, and while you hadn’t given that much thought to the statement then…you certainly were now.

“What did you do?” you shakily asked the blond, skin growing cold.

Rafe didn’t answer right away, and when he did, it was a lie anyway.

“I don’t know what you mean,” was all he said, one brow raised.

You felt tears kiss your eyes, and you felt silly for not putting the pieces together earlier. You didn’t know how, but somehow, Rafe had a hand in your lack of employment. It seemed exactly like something he’d do, but the only thing you couldn’t understand was why. Why do it? Just to see you fail? Just to feel like he’d won?

“Look, this little rebellious act…it’s cute and amusing and all…” he shrugged off with a small smile. “...but it’s silly. We both know you’re just going to end up right back under me.”

“You’re such an asshole,” you hissed, moving past him.

“Yeah, and you knew that when you let me fuck you for drugs on some guy’s desk,” he threw at you, making you flinch and slow down. 

“I was going through things then, Rafe! I didn’t…” you huffed a sigh, turning to glower at him. “I didn’t care about things I most definitely should have. It’s different now.”

You threw your hands up.

“I’m different, now, and I don’t want to keep sacrificing my dignity and self respect just to keep a roof over my head. I don’t want to sleep with someone who views me and anyone like me as beneath him. It disgusts me, and unlike you, I have no interest in sleeping with people who I claim disgust me.”

You watched Rafe’s lip curl over his teeth.

“Yeah, that’s real respectable and noble and all, but I wonder how noble it’ll feel when you’re being evicted,” he spat at you, moving closer. “You’re not getting a job in this town, that I can promise you, so you keep this up for as long as you want to, but we both know how this ends.”

You leaned away from the finger in your face.

“I fucking own you,” he bit out, roughly grabbing your arm and yanking you close despite your resistance. “You named your price, and I paid it-.”

“For a service! Not a person,” you harshly whispered.

Rafe’s chuckle was cold as he stared you down, perfect teeth winking at you.

“You think you’re the only girl in Outer Banks willing to spread her legs for some money? You think I’d have to pay any of them half of what I paid you?” your stomach dropped at his words. “I’ve been a lot more generous than you realize.”

He roughly let you go, practically shoving you away from him, and you stumbled. He eyed you with an expression filled with promise, and when you turned away to finally find your friends and hopefully leave, you descended the stairs on unsteady legs.

You pushed against Rafe’s arm and chest as he held your chin in a tight grip. The vehicle you were next to hid you both from view, everyone on the beach none the wiser to what was happening in the parking lot. Your feet tripped over one another as he forced you back, trapping you between him and the metal contraption.

“Is that what you came up with? You think that pathetic Pogue is going to pay your bills? Give you a place to stay when that eviction notice is taped to your door?”

“Get…off…of me,” you snarled, finally shoving him away with difficulty.

Your breathing was heavy as you glared at the blond, lips trembling and heart racing at the downright evil glint in his blue eyes. You glanced over his shoulder for any way to get away from him, your frustration growing as he moved closer.

“Color me curious, but is it somehow more dignified to fuck someone like JJ instead of me?”

The jealousy dripping from his every word threw you for a loop, and you weren’t in the right headspace to even linger on how strange that was.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but we’re not like that,” you drunkenly choked out. “I don’t know why you feel like I need to answer to you about my personal choices.”

It had only been thirty minutes ago that you were dancing with your friends. JJ—ever the flirt—had gotten a bit handsy, but it was nothing unusual. He could get handsy with a tree, and you’d merely smiled at the behavior, ignorant to the heated gaze that was hyper focused on you. You hadn’t even realized he’d been following you when you went to get a drink from Hayward’s truck.

“Butt out of my life already. You’ve already done enough,” you hissed at him, moving to get past him when he stopped you.

“We’re not done talking-.”

His words were interrupted by your hand, the sound of the slap echoing in your ears, and he’d just harshly pushed you against the car at your back when a familiar voice interrupted you both.

“Get off of her!”

Kie was suddenly there, helping you in shoving him away, and she looked at Rafe like he’d lost his mind—like she’d bore witness to an even sinister side to him. The blond didn’t seem all that fazed by her presence, barely sparing her a glance as his jaw clenched, his eyes on you. Clearly he felt that whatever he was contemplating wasn’t worth it, because without another word—but not without a final scoff—he made his way back to the party on the beach.

Kie wrapped her arms around you when you started to cry.

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

What a loaded question, and you realized that the truth was just on the edge of your tongue. Unable to stop yourself, you threw your arms around her, collapsing under the weight of all your choices and what had led you to make them.

“Kie,” you started, voice trembling in her ear. “I have to tell you something.”

If she was horrified by the truth, she didn’t show it much. You could tell she was shocked as the words tumbled from your lips, her brown eyes stricken and face draining of color. You didn’t know what bothered her more—the drugs, the prostitution, or that both involved Rafe Cameron. As it turns out, it was none of those things.

“Why didn’t…why didn’t you let us help you?” she tearfully wondered, looking between your eyes. “We know how hard it’s been for you, and we wanted to be there for you, but you…you just disappeared. You barely came around, and John B. heard things, but he didn’t want to believe them.”

She whispered that last part, and your chest ached at the thought of your friends hearing about your out of character behavior but feeling powerless to stop it, accepting it as part of your grief.

“Rafe’s a demented asshole,” she finally spoke on the elephant in the room. “...and we won’t let him win, okay?”

There was conviction in Kie’s voice, the kind of conviction that made you want to believe her, and so you nodded at her words.

She helped you straighten, wiping your face and taking you back to the party, quietly promising you that she wouldn’t say anything about any of this to the guys. She stuck to you for the rest of the night, and a week later, she made good on her promise, her parents shaking your hand as they welcomed you to their staff.

“We could always use the extra hands,” Mrs. Carrera told you one Friday evening. “It gets crazy busy, especially on the weekends.”

All the noise in the restaurant only validated her statement.

You’d been working at The Wreck for a week, and while it was nothing like what Rafe had been paying you, it was a job. It was a means of earning your own money that didn’t involve lowering yourself to the likes of Rafe Cameron. It was grueling, sure, and you sometimes wondered if it was truly worth the money, but then you’d think of the alternative, and you’d decide that it was worth something and that’s what mattered.

You hadn’t been paying that much attention when you approached your last table for the night, looking up from the apron at your waist and stopping in your tracks.

“Hey, I didn’t know you worked here too,” Topper said, a fairly neutral greeting.

Topper may have been just as much of an asshole as his friends, but he at least played nice for the public. Your gaze traveled around the table, quickly looking away when it connected with a familiar blue.

“It’s…a fairly new gig,” you finally said, getting your notepad ready.

“Hey, if you’re going to use your friends for anything, might as well use them to become a productive member of society,” he told you, his tone now making you frown.

Opting to ignore the comment, you asked them what they wanted. You didn’t make eye contact with Rafe when he gave you his order, hand unsteady as you wrote it down. When you left them to go and get their drinks, you weren’t surprised to hear the scrape of a chair behind you. You were focused on rounding the counter, reaching for some clean glasses.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

You didn’t forget your last encounter with the rich blond, tempted to ignore his presence altogether, but you were unfortunate enough to know how Rafe operated. Pausing in your movements, you turned to look at him, not surprised at all by the unhappy look on his face.

“I’m working, Rafe. What does it look like?”

You eyed the way his jaw ticked, finger gently tapping against the counter as he simply…stared you down. You glanced away, realizing that he didn’t have any power over you anymore. No, you weren’t completely out of the woods, but you had a secured source of income, and you’d happily struggle and scrape over sleeping with Rafe ever again.

“Go find some other struggling girl to take advantage of,” you finally said to him, grabbing their drinks and making your way to their table without a backwards glance.

Working at The Wreck was hard work, and no matter how many shifts you covered and how many tips you got, it was still long and hard work for half the money Rafe had ever paid you. You knew this when Kie came to you about the job, but on the other side of it, you were so beyond grateful for it. You were still stressed, of course, your monetary problems not going away anytime soon, but it was the normal stress of the average working twenty-something.

It wasn’t the kind of worry that came from a violent and abusive lover.

Rafe had been by the restaurant a few times since that day, and each time was more nerve-wracking than the last. Sometimes you served him, sometimes you didn’t, but it didn’t really matter because his gaze always found its way to you either way. On the days when Kie worked too, she’d ask you if you wanted her to do something about him, but you always declined.

After all, what reason would you have her give to her parents for kicking out the son of Ward Cameron who—to their knowledge—hadn’t done anything to warrant it?

Maybe you should’ve listened to Kie though. While you didn’t know if that would’ve changed things, you at least would have felt better about attempting to do something. Perhaps it was the mere sight of watching you work—watching you earn money independent of him—that made him snap, made him drop all pretenses completely. Barring him from the restaurant while you were there might’ve triggered some out of sight, out of mind response. It might’ve forced him to slowly get over whatever this thing was that he had about you.

It might have…

…and it also might not have done shit. Perhaps nothing would’ve changed, and you still would’ve found yourself tearfully staring at Kie’s mom as you took off your apron for the last time.

It was a normal Saturday when the texts and emails came through. The busiest day of the week, the most packed the restaurant ever would be for the next six days, and you’d been placing some fries down in front of some family’s kid when the noise in the restaurant…changed. You hadn’t been able to pinpoint how it changed, but if you did your best, it was like the chatters went from excitement about their food or whatever happened during the week to something else entirely.

One single thing that everyone was talking about.

You weren’t getting paid to mind your patrons’ business, but you started to think differently about that when the people at the table you were next to started to heavily eye you. The whole restaurant was loud with hushed chatter, so you couldn’t hear what they were saying, but the glances between the phones in their hands and you had you frowning.

You were slowly glancing around—realizing that that table wasn’t the only one—when you were yanked by your arm off the floor.

“What are you doing? What’s going on?” you worriedly wondered the moment Kie had you hidden from view.

The look on her face was hard to read, but her parted lips and wide eyes told you that she was horrified. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, seemingly unable to get the words out before slamming it shut, swallowing. The combination of her expression, her silence, and the lack of silence out there had a ball of dread forming deep in your gut.

“Kie,” you softly said. “What…what’s wrong?”

It took her a moment to speak.

“It’s Rafe,” she softly said.

Your confusion only grew, still not quite understanding. 

“What happened? Is he bothering you? Did…he do something to you?” you hesitantly asked, fearful that your former tormentor had turned his sights onto your friend.

“Not to me.”

That simple sentence started to put the pieces together, and you turned your face towards the front of the restaurant, recalling the stares and whispers and listening to the excited chatter. Your skin grew cold, goosebumps erupting all over you, and that dread was long gone. It was instead replaced by nausea.

“He sent everyone something…”

“No,” you heard yourself whisper.

“...a video.”

You turned to her with wide eyes, shaking your head in disbelief. Glancing down, you caught sight of her phone in her hand, and before Kie could stop you, you’d snatched it out of her grip. You moved out of her reach as she extended her arm, desperately trying to protect you, but it was too late.

You felt like you were weighed down by bricks as you stared at the two familiar faces on the screen.

It had to have been taken months ago, during one of the first few times you’d slept with him. You both were in Ward’s bedroom, and you remembered the day all too well, recalling the feel of his palm striking your skin and his voice in your ear before pulling your head down to his lip. Of course, it was that one and not one of the ones where he’d held you down and forced you to take his thrusts.

Your hand was empty, not even realizing when Kie had taken it back, simply staring into space at the memory of what was on that screen.

“Y/N, when my parents find out—and they’re going to find out—they…”

Her words died in the air at the sound of footsteps behind you, and you flinched when you heard a familiar voice call your name. Mrs. Carerra didn’t sound happy, and her expression fared no better when you turned around. You couldn’t stop your tears from spilling over as she gestured for you to follow her further into the back of the restaurant. You knew what was coming, what Kie was trying to prepare you for.

It was what Rafe wanted, after all…and he’d gotten it.

It was hours later when you were sitting with your back against your door, your phone turned off, overwhelmed by the influx of missed calls and messages from your friends. You’d only gotten a glimpse at them before finding your head bent inside of your toilet. Every single one of them bar Kie were shocked, their horror and confusion clear as day through their words. Only Pope had eventually sent a text that asked if you were okay.

…and the truth was that you weren’t.

You were so far from okay.

Rafe had won, he’d gotten exactly what he wanted, and even though Mrs. Carerra had expressed sympathy for your plight—more angry at the situation than anything else—she’d still had no choice but to let you go. Every other business in town valued the Cameron family way too much, and the only place that had been willing to hire you had been swayed by Rafe too in the worst manner possible.

It was well after midnight when your door shook from harsh knocks. You hadn’t moved in hours, just blankly staring at the wall, and you closed your eyes at the sound, positive it was one of your friends. You didn’t have the strength to face them, to answer questions and either break down or pretend you felt far better than you actually did.

You did, however, have the strength to face Rafe, your gaze lifting when his voice met your ears, demanding that you open the door.

His fist was still in the air when you swung it open, looking at him like he was something you’d find on the bottom of your shoes. He looked as put together as ever, completely unfazed by what he’d done. And why wouldn’t he be? This wouldn’t hurt his reputation and success in this town a bit. If nothing else, the video would have even more girls falling at his feet, but for some reason he didn’t seem to want that.

He preferred to force your hand instead.

“What is wrong with you?” you tearfully asked him, throat tight.

He didn’t respond right away, touching his tongue to his lip as his gaze roamed behind you.

“You gonna let me in?”

Your eyes almost popped out of your sockets, and he gave a haughty laugh.

“It’s not like I’ve left you with much of a choice, now, have I?”

He sounded so…proud of himself, and all you could do was cry as he brushed past you. He closed the door for you, noticing that you were struggling to move, and he kept his hand on the wood, his chest grazing your back as he pressed his face into your hair. You heard him deeply inhale, and you squeezed your eyes shut.

“I told you how this would end,” he whispered. “I gave you a chance to be smart about this.”

You went to move away from him, but his other hand shot out to grip your arm.

“You’re the one who made things way more difficult than they needed to be.” he continued. “We had a good thing going…and then you had to go and get sensitive and sentimental.”

When he forced you to face him, you kept your eyes on the collar of his shirt. The silence stretched as you refused to look at him, and you eventually heard Rafe heave a sigh. He let your arm go, and you watched him reach into his pocket, disappointed but not surprised by the roll of one hundred dollar bills he pulled out. When he straightened, he took your hand and placed the money in your palm, clasping your hands together.

A few more tears escaped when his fingers threaded through yours.

“Do you still feel like fighting this?” he quietly asked. “Let me know, right now, because I have all the time—and money—in the world.”

He slowly pulled you closer.

“You don’t.”

You shakily exhaled, reluctantly lifting your gaze to meet his own. You stared at one another for what felt like too long, and when he leaned in, taking your silence as defeat, you let him kiss you. It was a salty kiss, your own tears mixing in, but Rafe didn’t seem to mind, moving his lips against yours with a growing smile. His arm snaked its way around your waist, and the animalistic noise he let out told you just how excited he was to have you back under his thumb.

The couch seemed sufficient enough for him, bringing you both to it as he peeled your clothes off. You shuddered as the air hit your naked skin, thoughtlessly moving closer to his own body heat, and Rafe pressed a kiss to your shoulder as he laid you down. It felt like ages since you’d last slept with him, but you knew that wasn’t why you were trembling.

You were trembling because you finally realized you were sleeping with a monster. Before, Rafe had just been an opportunistic asshole to you. Rich, spoiled, selfish, the list went on, but now he was so much more than that. He was now someone who’d raped you on more than one occasion, and who had proved that he’d do anything to make you completely reliant on no one but him.

How else could he ensure that you’d never leave him? Never have any other choices but him? You’d eventually have to leave Outer Banks one day, you knew that to be true if you ever wanted a life independent of him, but that video could follow you around for the rest of your life, and very probably would.

When Rafe sheathed himself inside of you, stretching you out in a way that was regularly familiar to you, you gasped. The blond wasted no time in adopting a steady pace, fucking you hard against your couch, his fingers pressing into the arm of it. His grunts were soft in your ears, and despite your combined hatred and fear of him, you weren’t able to swallow down the whimpers that escaped your lips too.

You didn’t know what kind of hard on Rafe had for fucking someone he deemed so far beneath him, even more so to go through so much trouble of forcing you right back into his bed. You didn’t understand it one bit, and part of you never wanted to. You didn’t want to understand a thing that went on inside of his head, didn’t want to understand the thought process behind doing what he’d done to you.

His fingers scraped down your thigh before yanking you forward as he sat up some, looking down to where his cock disappeared into you. He was focused on the sight, lips parting as he panted from above you. He didn’t lean back down until your leg was over his shoulder, preventing you from moving much as he used you to chase his high, hips repeatedly curving against yours and forcing you to grip the couch.

“I missed this pussy so much,” he murmured, lips grazing the corner of your mouth as he spoke. “You drive me crazy, you know that?”

You hadn’t before, but you did, now.

When his hand landed on your throat, it didn’t hurt, but his thumb applied just enough pressure to keep you alert.

“I’ll stop calling your friends dirty Pogues if that makes you feel better,” he whispered, a gentle kiss from his lips to yours. “...but you still belong to me.”