All Of My Writing Explores Dark Themes Such As Non-consent, Dubious-consent, And A/b/o Subjects. If Any

all of my writing explores dark themes such as non-consent, dubious-consent, and a/b/o subjects. if any of this offends you, this has been your warning!

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Yandere BTS OT7 - Mistake

DISCLAIMER: This is a FICTION work only made for entertainment purposes that includes yandere/dark. I do not support or encourage any type of abusive behaviour. 

SUMMARY: You make a big mistake and now you deal with the consequences.

Check more: Masterlist.

OT7 x Female reader

WARNINGS: Implied Kidnapping.

AN: I really made Jimin the bad guy here, but I hope you guys like it 💖

--

You hold your breath for a solid minute, staring at the door as it shakes.

The banging on the door progressively gets more violent as the loud commotion outside of the bathroom you just locked yourself in increases. 

The realization of what you did slowly starts to hit you. 

But you know very clearly how badly you’ve messed up. 

“Y/n! Open this door right now!” Hoseok and Jimin yell, angry voices mixing in. 

“Open it right fucking now!” 

“Don’t you dare ignore us!” 

You wince as a hard punch is thrown at the poor door, silently thanking the strong wood for withstanding the boys’s wrath. 

It’s the only thing keeping you safe from a horrible punishment, although you’re not stupid enough to think you can spend the rest of your life hidden in the bathroom.  

“What is going on here?” a new voice joins, overlapping over the rest of the angry voices, and you guess it’s Namjoon from the deep timbre. 

“Look at this, hyung! Y/n tried pushing Jimin down the stairs and now she’s locked herself in the bathroom.” 

You can practically see Namjoon’s brows rising in disbelief. 

The handle moves and upon realizing that the door is indeed locked shut, there’s a new knock on the door, although this one is much softer than the previous ones. 

“Y/n? Is this true?” he questions you, voice laced with disappointment. “Did you try to hurt Jimin?” 

Hot tears prickle your eyes as the struggle to hold them back proves itself to be worthless.

They’re gonna get so mad at you. They’re gonna hurt you.

“N-No.” 

“Liar!” Jimin cuts you off, and you jump at an unexpected fierce bang to the door. “I was trying to be nice and you fucking pushed me away!”

His explanation is twisted and it awakens flames of annoyance inside you. 

Jimin is not someone you would rank highly when it came to the boys, despite having no clear favorites amongst them.

You hate them all.

They’re all kidnappers, for all you care. But Jimin is particularly pushy when it comes to you and you hate him dearly for that. 

“You’re the liar!” you scream back, still maintaining a safe distance from the door. “You…Why don’t you tell the truth, you asshole?” 

You don’t wait for him to reply before continuing. 

“Namjoon, he tried slipping his hands underneath my shirt.” you sniff, cringing at the fresh memory of Jimin’s cold hands sneaking around your belly, starved to touch any inch of your skin. “He touched me, so I pushed him. He- I didn’t realize the stairs were so close, okay?” 

There’s a moment of silence. 

“Jimin-ah, why would you do that?” 

The muffled question from Jin has a light spark of hope igniting in you. Jin is one of the nicest, he’ll surely understand your situation. 

“I didn’t grope her! It was barely a touch!” 

“Jimin…” Namjoon sighs, clearly having doubts over the younger boy’s dubious explanation.  

“Hyung, I’m telling the truth! Y/n is the one lying!” Jimin argued back, his heated temper making his voice rise. “She’s just making excuses for the fact that she tried hurting me. She’s the one who went crazy on me and tried to shove me down the stairs.” 

“I didn’t-”

“She was probably hoping that I’d break my neck or something.” The malicious tone that Jimin uses upsets you. 

“I already said it was an accident!” you try to defend yourself.

“It didn’t look much like an accident.” Yoongi contradicts you. 

“Yeah, it really didn’t.” You shake your head at Jungkook’s words, feeling yourself getting slightly hysterical. 

You want to scream and shout. Of course they’re gonna take Jimin’s side. 

“It was an accident!” your voice is considerably aggravated, and it shows. “I didn’t mean to!” 

“Then come out.” Jimin challenges you. “What are you hiding for, if it was an accident?” 

You ignore him. 

The boys argue back and forth, with Jimin vehemently insisting it's all your fault against Jin and Taehyung, who try their best to minimize your actions. 

Finally, when the argument threatens to escalate into a fight, Namjoon intervenes.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, guys. There’s no point in fighting like this. Let’s solve the situation like adults.”

There’s a softer knock on the door. 

“Y/n? Can you please come out?” 

You don’t even think before throwing a loud no. 

“Sweetheart, please, we’re not gonna hurt you.” Jin tries.

“Speak for yourself.” Jimin’s voice isn’t low enough to go unheard, and the hair on your arms rises at the implicit threat.

“Jimin!” several boys hiss. 

“Baby, please, just come out!” Taehyung begs. "We can talk things out."

“Y/n, we just want to clear up the situation, okay?” Namjoon tries again, using a pacific tone. “No one is punishing you without having the whole story, I promise.” 

You shake your head, heart pounding in your ears as you walk further away from the door. You don’t believe him.

In the end, they’ll hurt you. You know that. 

Curling yourself into the small space next to the bathtub, you bury your face in your arms.

Any previous anger and energy you had is now fully drained, the seriousness of your situation making you dwell into a light depression. 

You’re tired. So fucking tired of them. 

They’ve turned you into a captive, took away all of your life choices, stripped you away from your freedom. All for a poor excuse of love, as they claimed it. 

Obsessed freaks, that’s what they truly are. 

You cover your ears with your hands, blocking away their circus of begging, threatening and bribing. 

You’re not opening the door. 

It takes less than an hour for them to finally get inside the bathroom. 

By then, you’re slightly more anxious, having cried all the tears you had and yet new ones are ready to spill when Jungkook and Jin’s combined strength finally breaks the door down. 

As already expected, Jimin is the first one to stride in, closely followed by the rest of the boys. 

But what scares you the most is the terrifyingly sly smirk that he dedicates you as he bends down. One of his hands grips your hair, aggressively pulling your head back as he leans down to whisper on your ear. 

“I don’t care what Namjoon hyung said before.” he says, “But you’re getting punished. We’ll see if you can even walk after what I’m about to do to you.”

Can you do a yandere! jock! fwb? Like he made it clear he doesn't want the two of you to be exclusive, but when you end up going on a date with another guy, he just gets so fucking upset? Some NSFW, and making the jock a bit of a himbo if you're feeling generous?

sorry, I've been out for a few! and i most certainly can, ive been wanting to write something like this out for a bit! your wish is my command *bows*

Yandere! Jock x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Yandere topics, stalker-ish, slight mentions of kidnapping, jealousy, Reader is a woman, HEAVY SMUT, 18+ MDNI

• Yan! Jock! who really didn't want an actual relationship with you. He was wanted and praised by majority of the students at his school. Even those who disliked him couldn't deny his raw talent when it came to athletics. He was strong, fast, and easy with any sport or physical challenge he was met with.

You had caught his eye the first several weeks of school. I mean, there was no denying that you were absolutely breath-taking. And he'd be a liar if he said he'd ever had a clean thought about you. Because holy fuck, you were so damn hot. So incredibly sexy in the school uniform that clung desperately to your stunning curves. That angel face and glowing skin that matched you so perfectly. And beyond your jaw-dropping beauty, you were intelligent. You were always turning in your assignments on time and always getting good grades. You seemed to be on a grind to get what you needed done. He could respect that. And your smarts were how you guys started talking in the first place.

• Yan! Jock had been struggling with a few subjects and went to you for help. You were happy to oblige. Part of you accepted his offer for you to tutor him because you knew your material well. But another part, a more secret part, was incredibly attracted to him. There was no denying his charms. He was tall, muscular and well-built, yet he was somehow elegant and smoothe. His tanned skin, sharp jawline and freckled nose had become your favorite physical parts about him. So, yeah. You agreed to tutor him.

The first few sessions with the jock was normal. Well, as normal as possible with two attractive people in one bedroom. There were occasional slip-ups where the two of you would be working with your heads too close to each other, so you'd practically kiss when either of you would lift your head. There were moments where you'd hold each other's gaze for too long or stare at each other's lips. But the both of you had honestly TRIED to keep it normal.

But there was that ONE night after studying that Yan! Jock just couldn't take it anymore. He was sick of pretending that your presence didn't affect him. Didn't cause him to shift in his seat every few minutes to hide his growing erection. And what frustrated him even more was that you were clearly into him too. Yet, you refused to make the first move. So he did. After staring at your plump lips for a solid minute, he leaned forward to kiss you before he could catch himself. You didn't even put up a fight. You just... Melted.

The first time the two of you fucked, it was heavenly. Your tight cunt hugged him so perfectly. Kept him so snug and warm when he buried himself deep inside you. He couldn't even pull out if he wanted to, it was like your pussy was squeezing him, relentlessly keeping him within your gummy walls. And you... You were adorable when you were filled to the brim with his spine-snapping cock. Your puppy eyes were puffy and sweet water spilled from you tear ducts. Your cheeks were flushed and your plump, glossy lips were swollen from the rough, demanding kisses and bites he had given you. Fuck, you were just perfect...

• Yan! Jock who finds himself fucking you anywhere he can when he has the time. He gets so incredibly greedy when it comes to you. Like an addict finally getting his fix. He's so sweetly brutal when it comes to being in your fat pussy, always grinding his hips against yours so desperately and clinging to your ass, thighs, hips and tits like a stupid dog who was scared that its owner would leave it. And he drooled like one too. He just couldn't help himself. Not when you felt so fucking good.

When you brought up having a potential relationship, he was quick to blow the idea off. Sure, you were incredibly. In every way, really. But a relationship would get in the way of sports and his title. And he couldn't have that. Sports was his top priority. Or so he thought.. He made sure to remind you this after almost every heated session, while kissing that pretty pout off of your gorgeous lips.

And despite how amazing he was himself, you found yourself getting bored. You loved his body (because who wouldn't), but you wanted more than sex. You wanted an actual relationship. Loyalty and trust. It's what you thrived for. And when football season began and Yan! Jock cancelled his "study sessions" with you for practice, you found yourself opening up to others.

You hadn't ever seen yourself as attractive as people seemed to think you were. And besides that, you got many compliments on your personality and sense of humor when you started hanging out with others. It was... Refreshing. As your confidence grew, more guys began to approach you. Usually, you would have made up some stupid excuse to run off, but when a certain guy asked you out at the library, you decided to take the chance.

He was cute, really. You had bumped into him several times at the library before and had no issue with getting to know him better. He introduced himself as Adam, and the two of you set up a date. It would be simple. Just a greasy diner located Downtown to start off. As you and Adam talked on the phone up to the date, you discovered that you might like him. Like, REALLY like him. He was the opposite of the jock you had recently been fucking. He was a bit of a smartass and could be snarky, but he kept his interactions with you playful and respectful. He never asked for anything along the lines of a sexual relationship and went at your pace. You were comfortable with him and could see yourself with him, which is what you had originally wanted.

• Yan! Jock who's favorite spot to eat just so happens to be the diner that you and Adam decide to have your date at. It was after one of his football games. The rest of the team was exhausted and just wanted to head home after they hit the showers, but he had just enough energy after cleaning up and changing, to go to his favorite diner. He couldn't help but indulge in their greasy food every once and a while, even though he knew he should stick to his diet. But you had to break the rules some times. Right?

The moment he pulls into the diner, he could see you from the window. A familiar warmth began to stir in his lower regions. God, you were hot as Hell itself. But when he looked a bit closer, he noticed that you were with someone.

"What the fuck?" He growled, his tone coming out more possessive than he intended. For a second, the jock paused. Where was this sudden hostility coming from? What did it matter to him who you were hanging out with? It was your business after all. But when he looked back up at that idiot who was now hand feeding you a few fries, he lost himself. He got out of his car and slammed the door shut without worrying about locking it. He barged into the diner and ignored the older waitress who greeted him.

Yan! Jock approached the table with a grin plastered on his face, but he couldn't hide the pure fire raging in the depths of his usually warm brown eyes.

"Hey, man! What's up?" He said to Adam through gritted teeth. His boiling blood seemed to sear right through his pores. It felt like he was on fire. "Couldn't help but notice that you're with my girl tonight," He slid down into the booth beside you. "You two having fun?"

You froze in horror as you realized what was going on. Adam gave you a confused look. Before you could open your mouth to say anything, the jock wrapped and arm around your shoulder and squeezed one of your tits. "Oh, she didn't tell you? Me and this pretty little thing kinda have something going on. A relationship, if you will. Sorry to disappoint."

You tried to protest, but Adam wasn't having any of it. He got up abruptly and nodded at Yan! Jock before quickly heading to his car and driving off. You couldn't believe it. You finally had something promising going for you and the stupid jock had to RUIN it? You glared at him, but he was already pulling you out of the seat.

"You're coming home with me. It's late."

You tried to yank back, but his grip was made of steel. "Like hell I am, you asshole! The fuck is wrong with you?!"

He paused and looked at you. For the first time, his eyes seemed devoid of all emotion. He let out a sigh and pulled you closer to his warm body as he led you to his car. "You're what's wrong with me, Cutie. Going out with such a loser, have you lost your mind?"

You were quite literally at a loss for words. Who did this idiot think he was?! He was the one to ruin everything! He was the one who didn't want a relationship in the first place! You were so stunned that you hardly noticed him gently pushing you into the passenger seat. You were quiet on the ride to his house, still frozen in disbelief. The recent events flashed through your head like a horror film.

When the two of you arrived, he carefully pulled you out of the car and into his house. He rubbed his hands up and down your arms as if trying to warm your icy body. "Just relax, you're good now." He cooed, softly and pressed a kiss to the nape of your neck. You snapped, spinning around to slap him hard across the cheek.

"I can't believe you! I was finally talking to someone who liked me for me and not just what my body had to offer! And your dumbass wanted to ruin it all?! You're a sick fuck, you know that? I hate you! I hate you, I hate you, I HATE YOU!"

Your fists felt soft against his broad chest, though the slap still stung his cheek. He flinched at your declaration of hatred for him and immediately wrapped you in a warm embrace. He pressed soft kisses to your scalp and trembled slightly from the sudden wave of regret. Not for lying to Adam about the two of you being in a relationship. But lying to himself and convincing himself that sports and his own needs should come before you. Because you were perfect. And he would do anything he could to make you happy.

"M'sorry, Honey. I fucked up, I know that now," He pulled away slightly so he could stare down at you with his softened, brown, lovesick gaze. "I should have given you what you so desperately wanted. A relationship and the loyalty that came with it." He buried his face in your neck, gripping your hips tightly as if horrified you might leave him once more. He felt your body stiffen under his touch and he grimaced. He genuinely messed everything up. His grimace shifted into a look of determination. I have to fix this, the jock thought. He hoisted you up into his strong arms and carried you upstairs to his bedroom.

"Hey! Put me down!"

He kissed the scowl off of those divine lips of yours and gently placed you onto the bed. Before you could scramble up and give him a piece of your beautiful mind, he was already pulling your dress up, peppering your plush thighs with soft kisses.

"Shhh... Just lemme take care of you tonight. I wanna prove that I love you more than anything, " He tugged your panties to the side with his teeth, revealing that juicy, slick mound that he adored so much. "And that your body may not be the only thing I care for when it comes to you, but it's most definitely something that should be worshipped." He slowly dragged his wet muscle between your folds, sucking gently on your clit.

You tried to ignore his apology and show him that this wouldn't get anywhere, but the way your back immediately arched from the familiar feel of his tongue wasn't fooling anyone. He didn't tease you like he usually would. He just grabbed at your thighs and ate you out passionately, kissing and suckling at your dripping cunt; moaning as your delicious juices hit his fast-working tongue. "M'so sorry, Darling. So, so, sorry... Mmh.. Shouldn't have been so stupid." He murmured his apologies between the comfort of your pussy lips, smiling in triumph as your legs instinctively tightened around his head. He plunged his tongue into your needy hole and added a few fingers to fill any empty gaps.

You must've orgasmed about five times before he finally got up from the floor to unbutton his pants and free his heavy cock. Instead of pouncing on you like a wild animal, he bent down to kiss your slightly pudgy tummy and slid his hands up to comletely tear off your thin dress. He looked up at you with a sheepish grin.

"Don't worry my love, I'll buy you a new one if you want."

The jock leaned up and gave your puffy eyes gentle kisses as he aligned himself with your gaping entrance.

"Please forgive me, Cutie. I should've known better." He leaned down to kiss your swollen lips as he pushed his stupidly large dick past your weakened defenses. He groaned loudly and grabbed onto the fat of your hips as if trying to ground himself.

"Fuckkk, Sweetie... You're so goddamn perfect... Always so ready for me~"

You were too full of him to speak. Tears streaked down your flushed cheeks. As much as you hated to admit it, you loved seeing him like this. So remorseful and gentle. It genuinely made you feel wanted. No... Needed. You whined loudly in response to the thick intrusion and bucked your hips.

Yan! Jock kneaded your breasts gently with a soft growl. He was thrilled to see you responding so well to him. Especially after he BETRAYED you and your trust. But this had to be his favorite side of you. You were too sweet, especially for him. Forgiving his short-comings so easily. All you needed was a little... Persuasion.

He smiled and guided your legs to wrap around his torso as he began to fuck you. He was rough, but in a gentle way. He knew how bad you needed this. Needed him. And he wouldn't deprive you from his attention any longer. So he made sure you could feel every inch of him. Every vein in his bruising cock. He could feel the appreciation coming off of you in waves of heat. Still, he continued to apologize and beg you for forgiveness.

He needed to fill you with his remorse. Engrave his sincerest regrets into you through his hickeys. Make you understand that he would NEVER hurt you like he did again.

• Yan! Jock who fucks you so good, that you couldn't walk for the next three days, and took care of you each day. He took off of practice to ensure that he could tend to your needs and give you much needed affection. Sure, he cuffed you to the bedpost because you tried to say that you needed to get home, but obviously you were just being silly. After all, you were all his now. And he would NEVER leave your side again.

~ Mal 💕🍵 (i hope you enjoyed this, i was half-asleep so sorry for any grammatical errors)

A another masterpiece! God I ate that UP! Thank you so much for feeding us the good stuff

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.”

men who treat you wasting even a single drop of his cum like a sin. men who replace their cock with their fingers after blowing a massive load into you to stuff his cum in real good as it tries to seep out of your puffy cunt.

men who grab a fistful of your hair and make you lick his cum off of the bedsheets if you even dare to wipe the extra off of your hands.

men who collect the sticky substance on their thumb as it drips down your chin and stuffs his digit into your mouth, ordering you firmly to "suck."

his cum is like a blessing to you, and he makes sure you treat it as so. or he may have to stuff you even more full than you already are <3

TOJI, SUKUNA, gojo, nanami, EREN, LEVI, ryosuke, KEISUKE, DABI, tachihara, DAZAI, chuuya, F Y O D O R, +your favs!!

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄|𝐉𝐉𝐊

Cut your good girl act

Paring- stalker!jk- “good girl”!reader

Warnings- stalking, unsolicited pictures, obsession, masturbating, cum eating, protected sex for 2 sentences, unprotected sex (sigh), rough sex, choking, biting gagging, spitting, cumming inside

Word count- 1.6k

A/N; This is a repost, cause I hated it (it’s literally the same)

Not edited (sigh again)

☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆✩☆

Jungkook sits on the ridge of the facility across your home. His fist tightened at the scenery of you solely in your towel.

The Sheer white curtains do not show any privacy from this point of view. He sits gazing at you the bulge in his pants tinting his jeans.

He rolls his hand over his dick aching at the discomfort. He grabs his camera snapping a few pictures of you. You stand stripped in front of the mirror darting at yourself running your hands past your thighs.

Skimming up the waist as you drag on your underwear. The tiny purple Lacey thong. You veer around a bit and Jungkook sees a full sight of your ass.

He fumbles his camera to take a picture but you had already shifted out of his view. He poses there in defeat and with a raging hard-on. Jungkook darts at you through the window. He moves back a bit and unbuttons his pants.

He sticks his hand in his jeans and starts to move up and down on his hard cock. The very little wind hits his smooth skin. He gasps wondering how disgusted you’d be if you caught him jerking himself off in front of your house.

But he stares at you as you put on the matching purple bra. He pants as he grips his cock tighter and moves faster his body warming up. He closes his eyes mouthing to himself “Fuck fuck fuck” he goes hard and fast his arms jolt from the friction and he is almost there.

The white euphoric feeling presses at him “Please baby come, come please” he pleads to himself moving around your room.

You lying on your bed that sits in front of the window. You lay Diagonal so jungkook sees your side. You lay on the bed with your underwear on bend your left knee and open up your legs.

Your hands brush your waist as you trail your hand down to your underwear you rub yourself and jungkook stops realizing what you’re doing.

He continues to move up and down on his cock. You touch yourself getting lost in your pleasure. Your back arches and you moan at the sensation of your body tingling from the white heat you're providing for yourself.

Jungkook stares in awe, thinking about all the things he could do to you. How he could break into your house and make you his.

Have you begged for his touch, his hands exploring every inch of your body? Learning you and what turns you on. How your friends would react to sweet innocent Y/N touching herself wearing the sexiest underwear?

His hands pump himself fast the warmth climbing up his abdomen, and he’s almost there. He fists faster his eye blurring at the movements. He comes his cum hitting him in the face under his nose and cheeks. He stares up at you.

You coming off your high. Two fingers dug deep into yourself and the other hand pinching your nipple. You shake at your orgasm your back arching so far off the bed.

Jungkook smiles and he places his cock back in his pants. Taking his camera taking one finally shot of you pulling your fingers out your warmth and sucking your fluids off your fingers. Jungkook does the same licking his cum coated fingers.

~

“Y/N” you hear his voice, you're also staring at the very explicit pictures that you received in your school mailbox.

You had thrown them away, planning to forget about them.

You look up and Jungkook who stands in front of you. A wide grin on his face. His eyes are big and shiny.

“How did you get these?” Jungkook hums. Standing next to you. He has a black bag in his hand. Pulling out a black thick folder.

It can’t be

“I took them, I told you I was interested in you” he throws the folder on the table. He opens it. The first picture is one of you masturbating on your bed. Your fingers are deep inside of you. Your mouth agape, you stare at him.

You close the folder. Snatching it off the table and onto your lap.

Your eyes are watering, your are embarrassed. You look around at the not-so-busy coffee shop.

“So you decide the stalk me and take naked pictures of me?” you look at him. His eyes bore into yours.

He nods “They are just so beautiful” he smooths a hand over yours. He tries to take the folder in your lap. You grip the folder as if your life depended on it.

It does actually, if those pictures get out your reputation will be ruined. You’ll be the laughingstock of campus.

You take a deep breath.

“So what do you gain in this?” jungkook laughs on the other side of the table.

“I know your secret, that you are a sick slut that chokes and fingers herself to get by. The list goes on. You wouldn't want your friends the find out huh?” you shake your head.

“Then, all you have to do is be my girlfriend” You stare at him, cursing his big innocent eyes that make him look so soft.

“ Okay,” you say in a calm matter. Jungkook wipes your tears. He kisses the side of your face. You let your tears fall and Jungkook just smiles

~

“Jungkook please” You pant under him but he continues his sloppy thrust into your dripping cunt. Your knees are pressed down to your chest, jungkooks body weight holding them down.

Both of your hands are held above your head where you can’t even savor the touch of jungkook skin

“Please let me-“ jungkooks lips land on your lips, shutting you up. His lips moved against your soft lips taking your last breath, drinking away all of your pleadings.

He pounds into you harder, your cunt probably bruised from the force.

“You like this baby” he pants

“You like it hard, I know you do. You fucking minx” you whimper at the name.

“Go faster…please” Jungkook laughs at your remark giving you what you want. He flips you over. “Ass up” he pushes your head into the pillows. Place a warm kiss on your back.

He grabs onto your hair. Thrusting into you heavy and fast the bed frame slamming against the wall. jungkook smacks your ass.

“Say it, baby” You don’t answer fast enough from him. He stops his movements

“No please” You move back trying to fuck yourself on his cock. But you feel your high wash away.

You groan “What the heck” You look back at him.

“Say it?” He looks at you gripping your ass. “We are having sex right now”

He laughs, “Use your big girl words” he half thrusts into you once. “Fu-“ you say.

For the last few weeks, you’ve getting used to Jungkook. It’s been about 5 months. You’ve warmed up to him. Everything has fallen into place.

Jungkook saw you talking to your friend on the phone ( through the many cameras he placed in your dorm) he heard you talking about how you want to take control during sex.

Jungkook considered that. He wants to break you down so bad he wants you the be vulgar and nasty. He wants you to tell him to fuck you harder.

Cut your, good girl act

You grow impatient. The heat washes away. You lift yourself leaning back causing Jungkook to sit on his knees as you ride him. The mirror in the corner of the room catches.

Your cord has snapped, you are tired of Jungkook at his controlling ways. The switch has flipped and this is what he wanted. For you to break your good girl act and show him what you are.

A nasty slut

You fuck him rough and hard not stopping your legs burning like crazy. You turn to face him riding him regularly without letting him slip out. You jump on him

Grabbing his face. Jungkook smiles “There she is” you slap him. Grabbing his face again opening his mouth pushing your thumb on his tongue. Your fingers dig into his face. The frustration eating you alive.

Jungkooks face burns with the slap but it makes him harder. He sucks and bites on your finger. As you stare at him. Your eyes are dark, your pupil’s burning.

“You want me to fuck you like this,” you say, riding him to his end, and Jungkook moans and grunts. He’s close to coming.

“I want you cum inside of me” you whisper in his ear. The condom on his dick is the only thing separating you from that.

“Oh yeah,” Jungkook says with a smirk. You slap him again but harder. You suck on his neck marking him.

“Want you to fill me with your cum, so you can eat it out of me later” That almost sends Jungkook over the edge.

“Take it off” Jungkook pants, you smile. Letting him slip out of you. Yanking the condom off his cock slipping him back into your sopping cunt.

“I’m not going to last” Jungkook pants. “I’ll just keep fucking you then,” you say as you push him flat on the bed

You ride him hard. The bed in the verge of breaking. You grind and pounce on him.

Jungkook grabs your hips and you shove your fingers down his throat. He gags, and you lean down to spit a glob of Saliva down his throat.

Jungkook has never been out of control in bed. He doesn't mind it though. Since it’s you, he’ll enjoy it from time to time.

“I’m gonna come” Jungkook moves his hips at the same pace as you.

“Yeah, cum inside of me”

“Of course, baby” Jungkook looks at you deadpan in your eyes

“Gunna fill me up so good” Jungkook nods, pushing your chest closer to his.

“Make me yours, I’m your Jungkook all yours” Jungkoosk's heart races

“Forever?” He questions, this is what Jungkooks has been waiting for. For you to be his, to never leave him. He can own you and do whatever he wants to you

“Ye- yeah, yeah, I’m forever yours” Jungkook comes and he shoots the long ropes of cum into your cunt.

You moan as you feel the white thick liquid in your Cunt Splattering all over your walls. You chase your Orgasm. You also fall off the hill

Your body shakes on top of jungkooks. He sits up and holds you free. Hugging you, looking at him kissing you deeper and raw. He stays inside of you for a while longer. To make sure his cum doesn't seep out.

Cause you are his and his only.

“I love you,” Jungkook says as he slips out of you.

“You are forever mine”