𝙱𝚊𝚜𝚎𝚋𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚎𝚛!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝚃𝚛𝚘𝚙𝚑𝚢𝚠𝚒𝚏𝚎!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

— summary: you’ve wanted jj for as long as you can remember, but the two of you have always been stubborn when it came to your feelings for one another. a months long secret affair behind his girlfriend, kiara’s back, and getting caught by john b finally pushes jj to do what he should have done months ago.

— warnings: smut! 18+ cheating!!! oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex, getting caught by john b, strong language. i think that’s it.

— note: y’all probably think i’m awful lmao. two cheating fics in one week? 🫣 anywhoooo, i don’t condone cheating by any means, but for the plot, it was necessary. not a very long one, but enjoy<3

likes, comments + reblogs are appreciated!!

❥ desire — j.m

“please jj, ‘m so close, it hurts, please… let me— shit! let me cum”

jj’s tongue continues its assault on your sensitive pussy, his tongue dragging up and down the length of your sopping core, lips wrapping around your clit and sucking at it softly before releasing it and penetrating your tight hole with his tongue.

your legs were shaking, fingers buried in his messy blond locks as he worked you toward your third orgasm.

jj lets your clit pop from his lips, lifting his head so his darkened over eyes could meet yours. “fuckin’ love how good you taste, wanna die between these legs”

he slips a finger inside of you, slowly thrusting it in and out, slightly curving it and hitting at your gspot. you let out a pathetic whine, head firmly pressed into the pillows as your third orgasm was threatening to burst. your stomach tightens, legs tense as jj continues the slow thrusts of his finger, his head dipping down and wrapping his lips around your sensitive bundle of nerves.

you feel the band snap, your orgasm rushing through you and soaking jj’s face and fingers, shouts of his name and soft whines pulled from you.

“jj- s’too much! please… please no.. no more”

he lifts himself up onto his knees, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand, “goddamn, got three out of ya this time, not bad mama”

you let out a sigh of relief, rolling your head to the side as you try and steady your breathing. jj’s voice startles you, the low and raspy tone in his voice making your core ache once more, “don’t think i’m done with ya now do ya princess? ‘m just gettin’ started”

you open your mouth to speak but only a high pitched squeal comes out, the swollen head of jj’s cock running through your soaking wet cunt making you squirm.

he sinks himself inside you, pulling a loud gasp from you. his hips begin pounding into yours, the squelching noises of your pussy and jj’s balls smacking against your ass bounce off the walls. you let out a loud moan and jj slaps a hand over your mouth, muffling your cries as he continues to pound himself inside of you.

you sink your teeth into his palm, making him hiss out a breath, “fuck!” he grunts out,

he lets his palm slide from your mouth, his hand snaking underneath your waist, gripping at your plump ass harshly as he fucks himself deeper into you.

you lift a leg and wrap it around jj’s waist, pulling him farther into you, his cock being pushed into so deep you could feel him in your stomach. you begin clenching around his dick, your inner walls squeezing him tightly as you near your release.

the sound of the front door squeaking open catches your attention, panic flooding your face, eyes wide as you stare up at jj, his face unfazed and focused on his quick and deep thrusts.

“j, someone’s-” you begin but jj cuts you off.

“i don’t give a fuck, focus on me”

you squeeze your eyes shut when the head of his dick hits at your gspot, making your pussy clamp down around him. your toes curl, back arching up off the bed when the door to the bedroom is pushed open, john b’s voice making your body go slack in jj’s hold.

“jj, what’re you- oh shit! sorry!” john b shouts, shielding his eyes and rushing from the room.

you place your palms on jj’s chest, his thrusts never slowing, even when his best friend walked in on the two of you, “jj! jj, stop! he just- he just caught us!”

jj’s hips don’t falter, his tongue pressed to the inside of his cheek as he focuses on his impending release.

“hey, hey, don’t worry about him. he won’t say shit, focus” jj demands. you obey, pushing john b to the back of your mind and focusing on the feel of jj’s cock sliding in and out of your sopping cunt.

jj’s hips begin to stutter, his dick pulsing inside of you as you clench around him uncontrollably. jj lets out a strained groan as his cum shoots inside of you, your body shaking as you come undone around his cock shortly after.

he slides his softening cock from you and pushes himself off the bed, finding his boxers and sliding them up his legs. you wrap the bedsheet over your chest, staring back at him. you’d been caught, what if john b tells kiara? you know what you’re doing is wrong, but you can’t seem to stop yourself. you want jj, but the two of you have always been stubborn when it came to your feelings for one another.

as if he was reading your mind, jj sits on the bed beside you, his large hand cupping your face as his ocean-blue eyes scanned your face. “hey, don’t worry. jb won’t say anything, besides… i’m- i’m gonna break things off with kie. she deserves better, and well.. you know i’m in love with you. it’s only fair we do this the right way”

you sigh, nodding your head as tears began to prick at your eyes. jj had never openly admitted he was in love with you, but you knew he was, so finally hearing the words out loud made your heart leap from your chest.

“i love you too, jj”

he smirks down at you, placing his hand on the back of your head and pressing his lips against your forehead. “i’ll be back, ‘m gonna go talk to jb, try and get some sleep. everything will be sorted by the time you wake up”

you smile to yourself, laying yourself in his bed and pulling the covers up to your nose. you close your eyes, listening to him exit the room, leaving you with thoughts of finally having a real relationship with the man you’d been in love with for years.

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Fit💋

I-💀😭😭

😭😭😭

𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 — 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | you became friends with eddie almost a year ago. it wasn’t until after summer break that you realized just how attractive he was. during a hellfire meeting, you two are left alone, and his usual sassy remarks leave you blushing like an idiot instead of throwing sarcasm right back at him. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | eddie munson x fem!reader 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | smut— no protection, sex in public𝐰𝐜 | 2.9 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 | might write some hopper stuff next

*•.¸♡masterlist*•.¸♡ao3 *•.¸♡twt

It took you until senior year to realize you had feelings for Eddie Munson. 

Starting at Hawkin’s as the new kid halfway through junior year made you somewhat of an outcast. You never really found a group of your own. You often sat alone at lunch and roamed the halls by yourself with headphones in. 

It wasn’t until Eddie approached you one day that you found an amazing circle of friends. 

He had been trying to get more people to join Hellfire, but it was proving difficult. He had spotted you digging through your locker, headphones in, bag slouched over your shoulder, and your hair a right mess. You had not been feeling school the past few weeks. It had been rough being alone.

“Hey,” he called to you. You hadn’t heard him so he waved his hand in front of you, making you jump. You looked up at him from your locker and took your headphones off and let them rest around your neck. 

“What?” You asked somewhat aggressively. 

“Hey, hey, I’m not here to steal your lunch money,” he teased, putting his hands up in surrender. When that didn’t even get a smirk out of you, he continued on, “Okay… Anyways… want to join an epic club full of fantasy, battles, unrequited love, and angry name calling?” 

His energy level was way too high for 9 in the morning. You stared at him blankly, “Wha… This is a club?” 

He leaned against the lockers and fiddled with his rings. “I might have led on a little strong. It’s a DnD club. We’re short a member for our next campaign.” 

“Why do you want me to join?”

His lips pursed as he blatantly tried to think of a reason beyond you being someone that he had yet to ask and so far everyone else has shut him down—he was running out of options. 

“No one else will join, huh?” You asked before he could rattle off some stupid lie. You actually smirked at this, finding this whole interaction confusing and amusing. Eddie had trouble reading you, so he slowly nodded his head, tentative about where this was heading. 

“Okay.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Okay, what?”

“Okay, I’ll join your dweeby club.”

He feigned hurt as his hand came up and gripped his heart. “I’ll have you know, only the most chivalrous and righteous students are allowed to join the club!” 

“Mhm.” You rolled your eyes at him. 

He smiled, appreciating how you managed to match his energy while still appearing indifferent and disinterested. 

“We meet when the sun braces it’s heart for the moon to stampede over—“

“Just tell me an actual time.”

He grinned, observing your stoic expression for a moment before answering you. “Three.”

“Alright. I’ll see you then for the promised angry name-calling.” 

He smirked as he watched you walk away.

That was towards the end of junior year and you soon blossomed into a friendly relationship with Eddie and his friends. You didn’t see him much over the summer, so when school started again in September, you were surprised at how long his hair got. 

He spotted you in the parking lot and hopped over to you, draping an arm around your shoulder. “Where have you been hiding all summer? Your parents finally let you live out your reclusive life in a hobbit hole?”

You rolled your eyes, looking up at him as you walked. “I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but I actually missed your annoying voice.”

He pulled away from you and began to walk like a victorious king. “My life’s mission is complete, I’ve finally gotten you to say something nice to me.” He jumped in front of you and began to walk backwards as he spoke. “Are you starting to actually like me?” He gasped. 

You noticed the way his arms seemed more toned and his stature was slightly larger. His hair had grown and he seemed to have let his stubble grow in ever so slightly. You felt your breath get hitched in your throat as you realized how attractive Eddie really was. 

“Yeah, yeah,” you played, smiling at him.

A few weeks had passed and you found yourself getting nervous around Eddie. What was happening to you? Suddenly the way he spoke gave you chills instead of annoying you and when he would drape his arms around you, it made your skin burn. Were you seriously falling for him?

You tried to shove these feelings down, you couldn’t ruin the best friendship you’d formed in years. You saw the type of girls Eddie liked, and it certainly wasn’t you. You wouldn’t let this ruin your friendship with him. 

It was late and you sat in front of a table, cards, and dice sprawled out on it as you played DnD as a group. After almost two hours, people began to leave. You and Eddie had ended up staying, both of you wanting to work out a way to win the campaign. 

“See you guys tomorrow.” One of your friends waved as he left. It was just you and Eddie now, sat in the dark room, looming over the game board. You began arguing about the game, rolling your eyes at him as you always did. He was so fucking cocky, it drove you mad. He wouldn’t admit that he was wrong and you were right with the strategy you should take.  

“Fuck you,” you cursed at him, reaching down to grab your bag. You would certainly get a migraine if you stayed any longer to fight with Eddie.

Seeing the genuine frustration on your face, he wanted to bring you both back to reality, so he made a joke. “I mean, you could if you wanted.” 

You looked up at him and he was wiggling his eyebrows. The way the light cast harsh shadows along his face made your heart pound. It only made him more attractive. Normally, you’d spit back a sarcastic remark, but looking up to meet his gaze had caught you off guard. After not saying anything back, you felt a blush creep up on your cheeks. 

Eddie noticed your sudden flustered face and felt his own cheeks heat up. He cleared his throat, looking back down at the board and shoving the dice into a small bag. 

You set your backpack down on the chair next to you, your anger from earlier washing away, and you started to help him clean up. In the silence, he began to hum. What was it? A Stone’s song maybe. It made you smile. 

God, what was this boy doing to you?

You watched him shimmy around as he cleaned up, shoving things messily into a cardboard box that held all your pieces. 

He could feel you watching him and he looked up. “Like what you see?” He teased. 

You did, actually. You looked down to push the chairs into the table. “So, what if I did?” Your voice was quiet, making it pretty blatant that you weren’t entirely joking.

You realized your mistake and tried to laugh it off as you edged closer to him, tucking the remaining chairs into the table. When you looked up, Eddie was just staring at you. Your laugh died as you looked back into his eyes. Your hands gripped the table in front of you, his hands dangerously close to yours. As if you both could sense the close proximity of your fingers, you simultaneously looked down. His fingers ever so slightly edged closer to yours, just barely brushing your own. You felt your breath stop in your throat as you nervously looked up at him. His own heart was pounding loudly in his ears as he looked into your shadowed eyes. 

In a sudden burst of movement, Eddie stepped into you, his hand grabbing your cheek. You stumbled back against the table, your hands catching you as Eddie almost pressed himself completely against you. You could hear yourself breathing loudly as Eddie’s face hovered only inches from yours. “Can I—?” He started to ask,  breathlessly. 

You nodded your head, probably a bit too eagerly, and he wasted no time crashing his lips onto yours. His free hand found your hip and he pulled you towards him so your bodies lay flat against one another. Your hands gripped his shirt, trying to steady yourself, Eddie’s towering body pushed into you making you lose your balance. You whispered his name into the kiss, causing him to pull away. His eyes searched yours. Neither of you said a word, but for once, Eddie could read you. Your walls had been ripped down, your emotions laid bare on your face. He could see the way you looked at him with intense lust. And he looked at you with so much pent-up feelings; he had liked you since your first encounter. You hadn’t left his mind since that day. 

His lips were back on yours and you heard him groan into the kiss. You felt a tingle slide up your thighs in response. Eddie gripped your hips with both his hands and sat you up on the table. Your legs opened so he could get close to you again, your lips never breaking. 

Your hands squeezed his shirt, then roamed his chest, feeling his tone torso under his Hellfire shirt. Eddie’s own hands were placed on either side of your face, pulling you into him. One of his hands slid around to the back of your head, his fingers getting tangled in your hair. The kiss was hungry and sloppy, both of you not able to touch one another quite enough. 

His fingers slid down your body now, resting at the hem of your shirt. He broke the kiss slightly to look at you, silently asking permission to take this further and tear your shirt off. You lifted up your arms in response and Eddie gave you a devious grin. 

His eyes traced along your chest, the dim lighting creating intoxicating shadows and highlights along your curves. 

You saw him gulp as his hands reached out and squeezed your breasts. You felt your eyes flutter as he did, which only turned him on more. You could see the tent in his pants and you desperately wanted to help him with that. 

You tugged at Eddie’s shirt and his hands reluctantly came away from their spot on your chest to rip his own shirt off, flinging it off to the side. You almost licked your lips as you eyed his tattooed chest. 

He was back in between your legs, kissing your neck. You pulled your bra straps down and his hand sneaked up your back and unclipped it. His lips quickly came down to your exposed chest and gently sucked at one of your nipples. Your head flew back and you thought about how insane all this was. You had so much desire building up for Eddie, a desire you never thought would be returned; so when you both saw it in one another, you had no time to take things slow. Maybe you both were a bit nervous the other would realize their mistake and change their mind, so if you just kept pulling at one another, maybe you’d stay, and maybe he’d want you back. 

He released your nipple and left it glistening. Your hands began to fiddle with his belt and he helped, pushing his tight jeans off. 

You grabbed the waistband of his boxers, his stance between your legs not budging. “Eddie, I want to—“ Your voice was much softer than usual, Eddie really liked it. He understood that you were asking him to move so you could get down on your knees and take him in your mouth. And, yes, that sounded heavenly, but Eddie had other plans for this moment. 

“No. I…” His eyes traced your frame, up to your swollen lips. “I want to be inside you... Can I…?” 

You gulped and nodded your head. He quickly tore your shorts off your legs, your underwear sliding off with them. He needily kissed you again, grinding his hips against yours. You felt his hard length against your lower stomach as he did. He pushed down his boxers, unable to bother pulling them off completely and lined himself up with you. His forehead rested against yours as he looked down, his hand guiding his tip that was already soaked in precum against your entrance. 

His eyes glanced at your own, making sure you still wanted this. You were practically begging him. Finally, he painfully slowly pushed himself inside you. You gasped in unison. When you took him in completely you were shocked at how big he was. He let you adjust to his size before you whined. He felt his heart flip at your need. He began to move in and out of you, going slow and gentle. He grunted in your ear as his hands grabbed your hips and pulled you closer to the edge of the table so he could get a better angle. Your hands clawed at his tanned back, stifling moans against his shoulder. 

“Please,” he painted. “Let me hear you.” His voice was shaky and barely above a whisper, his hot breath tickling your ear. When he began to pick up speed, you let a moan pool off your lips. Eddie looked at you, his pupils blown, and kissed you, swallowing the noises you kept making. 

His weight on you pushed you back so you were laying on top of your game board, his arm holding him above you on the table. Your hands snaked down to his lower back and pulled him towards you, wanting him to hit you harder. So he did. His thrusts were deep and strong now, the table’s legs dragging against the floor with each pump. 

You weren’t used to Eddie not talking for this long, which surprised you. You thought he’d be more vocal. And Eddie would have, except for the fact that he was so focused on you and being inside you, this entire line of events leaving him stumped and shocked. His brain was mush as you filled his every sense, he couldn’t form real sentences even if he wanted to. 

His head collapsed into your neck, your hair ticking his nose, and his moans coming out much louder now. You could tell he was getting close. 

“Fuck,” he dragged out when you bucked your hips up to meet his. 

His hand came up to the side of your face as he slid in and out of you. “God—Fuck—Jesus Christ—“ he blabbered aimlessly into your ear, his words muffled. You mewled in response, bucking your hips up again, allowing him to hit you as deep as possible. “Eddie,” you shallowly breathed. 

Your eyes were squeezed shut as he began to thrust in unsteady and chaotic beats. Your voice was enough to push him over the edge. You let out a rather loud moan involuntarily when his hand began to move against your clit. That finished him. Eddie growled lowly against you as he came inside. His thrusts were erratic and messy as he continued to pump his seed inside you. His fingers never stopped moving against your clit, your walls tightening around his cock as you began to orgasm. He groaned as he felt you twitch and squeeze around his cock, dragging his high out as he emptied himself in several more messy thrusts. Your nails had dug into Eddie’s back, sure to leave red marks. As Eddie slowed, your shaking legs began to calm. He stopped rubbing you as your orgasm floated into hazy ecstasy in your body. 

His weight was heavy on top of you as you both laid there out of breath. You could feel liquid pool out of you and down your thigh. Eddie looked up at you, his face bright red and forehead sweaty, smirking his stupid smirk at you. 

“Shut up,” you said, giving his chest a push so he’d get off of you. He leaned in closer and you felt yourself go shy again. He placed a kiss on your pouting lips before sliding out of you and standing up. 

He extended his hand and helped pull you up and off the table. You turned around to look at the mess you had both just made. 

“We should definitely do that again.” His voice was back to its self-assured tone. You turned around, shielding your body from his eyes as you picked your clothes up off the ground. 

“You should be so lucky,” you teased. 

He smiled as he watched you, suddenly shy as he glazed over your exposed body. 

“Shit. Where’s my shirt?” You cursed. God, the lighting in there sucked. 

A soft material collided with your back and you turned to catch it. It was Eddie’s Hellfire shirt. 

You couldn’t help but blush as you slid it on over your head, it smelt like his cologne. 

When you two were dressed, you walked out with his arm draped around you—but it felt different this time. 

“Won’t you be cold?” You asked, referring to his shirtless torso. 

“Not if you keep me warm.” That earned an eye roll from you. How many have you done that tonight? 

As you walked out of the club room, Eddie laughed. “That’s gonna be a hard one to explain tomorrow when someone inevitably finds your shirt.”

hiii, could you write a Tim Bradford X Grey!reader? She is sergeant grey’s daughter but adopted, so everyone can imagine themselves as they want 💕!

and they have to sneak around because she is “off limits”, also maybe younger than him??

and one day, while they are at her house and they are doing it (idk if you write smut, if you don’t you don’t have to go into details ofc). Wade goes at her house because she was not answering her phone and finds them while she is literally on top of him ??

Not just any man

Tim Bradford x Grey!reader

Warnings/Tags: 18+ mdni!, smut, p in v (wrap it before you tap it!), language, fluff, secret relationship, reader is Grey's adoptive daughter

Word count: 1.722

Authors note: Hey love, thanks for the request! Yes, I do write smut. I hope this fits your expectations! I really appreciate the idea with the reader being adopted, so everyone can imagine the reader as they like!

Enjoy!

There was a lot you had Wade Grey to thank for.

Catching you with your boyfriend wasn't one of those things, though. Especially when your boyfriend was one of his officers and he was older than you.

You were in so much trouble.

It had all began when you met Tim at a charity event hosted at the police station (not the best place for an event like this, as your father later would always like to mention).

It had instantly clicked.

The thrill of doing this behind everyone's back was what excited you the most the first few months - that was, until Tim confessed his feelings to you.

You were deeply in love with each other, and no one would be able to separate you - not even your father, even when he decided to fire Tim, if he ever found out.

When you were a baby, barely a few months old, Wade had adopted you.

Your parents died a few days prior, losing everything, including their lives, when a drug deal went horribly wrong.

You didn't know much about them, but you didn't care. The Grey's were your family, not them.

Family didn't end in blood.

You were a little older than their biological daughter, but you were still your fathers little girl.

Which meant you were off limits - to everyone, including Tim. Not that it would have stopped you, though.

You had to sneak around of course, but someday your parents eventually had to find out - especially if you wanted to spend the rest of your life with Tim.

It just wasn't supposed to be that day, especially not like this.

You and Tim had been busy that day, you both had a day off and had been cooking together, went shopping (yes, you did that together, when your parents weren't near), and watched movies.

All that time you didn't look at your phone, though - missing several calls from your father.

Now, you were very busy with Tim, as he placed kisses down your neck, making you shiver in delight.

Your naked body's pressed together, his fingers brushing over the curves of your breasts, wandering further down.

Your fingers touched him wherever they reached - his muscular chest, his back and his arms, brushing through his short hair as his fingers pleasured you.

His lips found yours, muffling a moan, as his fingers went in and out of your tight pussy, his palm brushing your clit in the process, sending shivers up your body.

You loved every second of it.

You loved the way he always took care of you, the way he took his sweet time.

The knot in your stomach tightened, as he quickened the pace of his fingers. Gasping his name your fingers dug into his shoulders, his lips ghosting over your neck, as his thumb drew figure eights on your clit.

With a few last strokes you came, moaning his name, pure bliss pulsing through you, blinding you momentarily. You rode out your high on his fingers, before he removed them, smirking down at you as you gasped for air.

He was breathtakingly beautiful. His eyes that shined like the stars at night, full of love. His face, his lips and his hair - he was perfect the way he was.

And he was all yours.

His lips found yours again and he stroked himself, before he aligned his dick with your entrance.

Slowly, he inched forward, stretching you out in just the right way, the initial pain quickly fading into a feeling that was so much better.

When he was fully settled, he started to move, not giving you much time to adjust.

A throaty moan passed your lips, as his hands gripped your hips to steady himself. You fell into a steady rhythm, the familiar knot in your belly already forming again.

"Fuck." he breathed, one of his hands finding your breast, pinching your nipple. Moaning loudly your legs wrapped around his middle, taking him even deeper.

He thrust into you vigorously, your moans mixing together. But you wanted a change in position.

Pushing him back you sat up, his brows furrowing in confusion. You pushed him onto his back, causing him to chuckle knowingly, as he realized what you were doing.

Smirking, you straddled him, not wasting any time to sink down on him again. He groaned, his hands gripping your hips, steadying you.

“Oh fuck…” His moan was like music to your ears, raw and unfiltered, as you started to move, up and down and up and down.

Skin slapped on skin, as he gripped your ass, helping you in your movement, when he suddenly stiffened, pulling you into his arms to cover you up.

"Tim wha-" you wanted to ask what happened, when you heard it.

"You better be kidding me!"

Flinching, your head snapped in the direction of your father's voice, body pressed against Tim, as your eyes widened.

"What the hell?" you yelled, your father's back turned towards you, one hand on his pistol.

"What the fuck?" Tim cut in. "What the hell is he doing here?"

"What the hell am I doing here?" your father bellowed, as you climbed off Tim, frantically searching for your clothes. "What the hell am I doing in my daughter's house? WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?"

He shouted - never a good sign.

Tim searched for the right words, not sure how to explain, as you threw his shirt at him.

When you were both fully clothed your father had already left the bedroom, pacing in your living room.

Walking towards him you tried to come up with an explanation. It would have been useless to lie, so you decided to confront him with the truth.

"We're together." you spoke, swallowing. Fast and painless - just rip the bandaid off in one move.

Your gaze fixed on your father who so suddenly stopped, you thought time had paused for a second.

"You are what?" he yelled, anger clear as day on his face, a vein on his neck popping out. Tim stood somewhere behind you, not daring to say anything.

After all he was still his boss.

"We. Are. Together." you repeated word after word. "We are in a relationship. We love each other."

Your father's eyes nearly bulged from their sockets, as he stared at you, mouth agape.

How we're you to explain, if he suddenly had a heart attack?

"You of all people!" he spoke angrily, pointing at Tim and you stood in front of him, blocking his way as your father took a step closer. Giving him a pointed look, he fell silent.

"Dad, I'm not thirteen anymore!" you tried to reason, shaking your head at him. "Im twenty-six! You don't have to protect me from men - and you definitely don't have the right to tell me who I date and who I don't!"

Blinking rapidly he tried to process your words.

"But-" he started, irritation clear on his face. "Y/N, you're my daughter! I told them you're off limits!"

Furrowing your brows you looked at him in disbelieve. "You did what?" you almost shouted. "God, you're so embarrassing!" His eyes were wide. "I am embarrassing? Seeing my daughter naked with a man - that is embarrassing!"

Your cheeks flushed, not wanting to be reminded of that, as you looked away.

Sighing he tried to find the right words, only making unintelligible sounds, though. "I can decide on my own who I want to be with, dad." you explained, brushing away a lose strand of hair.

"But-" he tried again, brows furrowed in sadness, and your heart grew heavy. "You're my daughter, my little girl! I can't just hand you off to any random guy!"

"What?" Tim interrupted, stepping forward. Rolling his eyes your father shook his head, fully knowing he could trust Tim Bradford.

If anyone, it was him.

It grew quiet, as you bit your lip, nervousness washing over you in waves. Would he fire Tim? Destroy his entire career just because he loved his daughter?

He sighed heavily, wiping over his face with his hand.

"Look, you didn't answer your phone all day so I got worried - and then I find you with him!" he explained, briefly pointing at Tim, who grabbed your hand, not letting go even as your father's jaw clenched at the sight.

"I'm not ready to hand you off just yet."

Closing your eyes for a moment you took a deep breath. "Serge, I love your daughter and I want to be with her." Tim started, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze.

It would all be good.

"I'm not willing to give her up, just because you can't let go."

Your father's brows rose at the bluntness of his words, but he kept quiet, chewing on his cheek as he thought.

"What if you break her heart?" he wanted to know after a while, tilting his head. "Won't happen." Tim returned without a moment's hesitation.

You couldn't help but smile at his words. You loved him with all your heart and you knew he did the same.

Your father swallowed, nodding after a while, eyes glistening. "If you just so much as look at her in the wrong way, I will make the rest of your life a living hell." he swore Tim, huffing at his emotions taking over.

Letting go of Tim's hand you walked to your father, hugging him in relief. He returned the hug, his arms the same shelter as when you were just a small child.

"Thank you." you whispered, happy tears filling your eyes. "When he hurts you, just tell me and I'll get rid of him." he offered, letting go of you.

Judging by Tim's huff he heard his words, but you were sure he did it intentionally.

"I love you, dad." He smiled down at you, the emotions still clear on his distraught face. "I love you too, kiddo."

Rolling your eyes you hugged him again, before letting go and walking towards Tim.

Smiling up at him you took his hand back in yours. It would all be good. He returned the smile, still a little hesitant because of your father's presence.

Standing on your tip toes you kissed him, causing your father to immediately protest.

"No!"

Steamy~ Liam Dunbar

WARRING~ Cursing, Shower sex, Unprotected sex.

Hello, I hope this isn't too bad. This is my first time writing smut, and I hope you like it. If you have any tips, I'd gladly take them.

After washing your body, you closed your eyes for a moment. Only opening them when your shower curtain was yanked open.

You screamed, throwing the first thing you saw, which was a bottle of shampoo.

“Ow, you could have knocked my eyes out.” Is the first thing you hear before finally seeing that familiar blonde hair that you're used to running your hands through every night.

"Liam!" you groaned. "I told you to stop doing that! You can't just break into my house like you're going to murder me!"

"I'm sorry, I should have called.” He smiled sheepishly, standing naked in front of you.

"No shit," you muttered, pushing your hair out of your face.

"Can I get in?" He smiled sheepishly.

"Go ahead. You're already naked. You would have gotten in anyway." You giggled at him. "That doesn't mean I'll entertain you, though."

You tried your best to keep your face and your eyeline straight as Liam got in.

He was behind you, and you could feel him pressing up against your body as he softly kissed your neck. sending a shiver down your spine. 

"I missed you," he smirked, hearing your breath hitch.

"Well, I didn’t miss you.” You say you are trying to keep a straight face.

"Ouch, you wound me," he chuckled, placing a hand on his heart. Taking his hand, he starts tickling you. “Stop, Stop.” You squirm in his arms.

“Take it back. Tell me you missed me, and I’m the most amazing boyfriend in the world.” He continued tickling you.

"No, never,” you giggle. trying to get his arms off of you.

“Not until you say it, say it.” He held onto you tighter.”

“Okay, okay, I missed you, and you're the most amazing, sexiest boyfriend in the world." You giggle.

 "See, that wasn’t so hard, baby.” He smiled, turning me around and looking down at you. "Yes, it was horrible.” You giggle, wrapping my arms around his neck. 

“I love you, Y/N.” He smiled against your lips, pulling me in closer by the waist.

“I love you too, Liam.” You smile, lifting up on your tippy toes and kissing him.

Liam’s groans kissing you hungryly and eagerly. trailing his hands up and down your body, making little moans fall out of your mouth.

Separating his mouth from yours, Liam starts trailing kisses from your lips to your cheek, down your neck, and towards that sweet spot behind your ear. 

“Liam, please.” You moan, fisting his hair, not knowing what you want but needing something, anything.

“Patience, baby patience.” Liam smirked, getting on his knees and trailing kisses down your body.

He was on his knees, looking up at you with his gorgeous, sparkling blue eyes. It was probably the hottest thing you have ever seen. 

"You are the most beautiful girl I have ever laid eyes on," he grinned, kissing all over your body and skipping the spot where you needed him most.

"Please,” you whine, closing your eyes.

“Please what?” He smirked, nibbling on your inner thighs.

“Please, touch me; please, I need it so bad.” You begged, gripping the back of his head, trying to push him to where you needed him most. "Well, since you asked so nicely, how could I say no?"

He smirked. His hands grabbed your ass, and his face was just beneath you. You gasped as he pressed tiny kisses directly on your clit. holding onto a fistful of his hair. He went straight for your clit, sucking aggressively as you pulled on his hair.

"Oh, that feels so good, baby, so so good," you gasped. Liam sucked on your clit, like he was starving and you were his meal, roughly parting your legs a bit as he did.

You could feel his fingers teasing you. He slipped a long finger in, making you gasp slightly.

You felt him ducking beneath you, trying to push you over him completely. His finger hooked upwards,toying with your G-spot expertly. He rubbed at it almost professionally.

You could barely keep it together at this point. Making more room for himself, he slipped another one in, which felt like ecstasy.

He growled furiously as he ate you out, sucking on your clit and finger-fucking you faster, sloping in a third finger. His fingers are amazing, and he knows all the right places. You could hear him chuckling to himself. Cocky little shit.

And still, you could tell he was even getting off on it. He loved pleasuring you, especially when he got to watch you completely fall apart on his tongue.

Lifting his head, he replaces his tongue with his thumb, rubbing fast circles on your clit and fingering you harder. making you shout.

"Yeah, you like that, baby, huh? Am I making you feel good?” He asked with a smirk, watching different expressions flash across your face.

“Stop, stop.” You moan, trying to push his head away.

"What? can't take it, baby." He chuckled 

“No more, take your fingers out, fuck me, please fuck me.” You begged, pulling his hair.

“All you had to do was ask.” He chuckled, removing his fingers, pressing one last kiss on your clit, making you whine, and then got off his knees, standing up.

Once he’s stood up, you grab the back of his neck, pulling him down and smashing your lips together. 

Grabbing the back of your legs, he lifts you up, shoving himself all the way in without warning. 

You moaned almost pornographically, digging your nails into his flesh as he thrust aggressively.

He growled quietly in your ear as he aggressively kissed all over your neck. His thrusts were loud, banging you against the wall over and over again. But you didn't care. Hell, you couldn't even feel the pain.

All you could feel was the pleasure that he brought to you, banging you against the bathroom wall as he cupped your ass, nibbling his teeth against your soft skin, and your nails dug into his back, drawing blood from how hard you were clinging on to him, but he didn’t seem to mind as he was groaning out your name.

“Fuck, Y/N, you feel so good, baby.” He groaned, shoving his head into your neck. 

"Oh, Liam, yes, Liam." You moaned

"Yeah, you like that, baby. God, you're so tight.” He groaned, sucking bruises into your neck and collarbone.

You moaned as he fucked and kissed you, putting equal amounts of energy into both. 

With even more aggressive thrusts into the wall, he twitched inside of you, and your breath hitched in pleasure. 

"You make me feel so good, such a good girl. Huh, your daddy's a good girl, aren’t you, baby?” He moaned in your ear.

"Yes, I’m a good girl. I’m your good girl, Daddy." I’m going to cum. Can I come, please, Daddy? I need to so badly." You whine, pulling his hair, earning a grunt in return.

“Come on, baby, I can feel it. Cum for Daddy." He moans, reaching down towards your clit and rubbing fast circles on it while sucking on your nipples.

Both of you moaned as you came together.

You sighed, throwing your head back, exhausted. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, still holding you up against the wall as if you weighed nothing.

"God, I love you.” He said he was pressing kisses all over your face.

“I love you too.” You giggle, squirming in his arms.

Sinking to his knees, he held you up against the wall. He parted your legs, grinning eagerly. "Round two."

"Ugh, you have the best mouth, and I hate it," you admitted. "I don't know. I think you love it." He smirked, shoving his face back in between your legs, leaving you breathless.

Pity Party

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: NON-CON/DUB-CON (+ mentions of), toxic/abusive relationship, mentions of manipulation, dad!Rafe, established Rafe x reader

➥ While this can absolutely be read as a stand alone piece, it is also the much requested follow up to my WTPO series. I hope this doesn't disappoint!

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

summary: You became the envy of every woman in Kildare County the day you became Mrs. Rafe Cameron.

⭑

You slid along the floor using your knees, hand occupied by an even tinier one as your son unsteadily put one foot in front of the other. Your lips were pulled into a smile as you watched him, your free hand hovering behind his back for when he very likely would fall. Your other son was occupied with a snack, and when—as expected—the youngest one’s legs gave out, you scooped him up with a giggle.

“Look at you,” you cooed. “You’re going to be sprinting by this weekend.”

His cherubic face smiled back at you, lips wet with drool, and you wiped his mouth with a smile. Your oldest—now done with his Goldfish—was currently tugging on your dress, and when you looked down at him, he had a wide grin on his face.

“I wanna play with him…”

His soft voice had your own expression softening, and you quietly told him ‘okay’, taking a seat right on the floor where you were formerly standing. You emptied your hands, letting your son crawl around and slap at the ground as his brother followed him, face so close to his as he whispered things to him that he didn’t quite understand yet. You let your mind wander, warmth blooming in your chest as you thought about how…sweet they were.

There had been a time where you feared they wouldn’t be.

…and as you stared at them, you almost felt bad for ever thinking they could be anything less than angels, but it couldn’t be helped. They were children, and there were very few things in this world that were more innocent than children. They both came out squirming and pudgy and perfect—screaming their heads off and only calming once they were in your arms. They came into this world looking at you with the kind of eyes that had never experienced or done a single bad thing in their life.

They were children…babies…

…but they were Rafe’s babies.

And as much as you would like to, you would never be able to forget how they both came to be here. Fighting off Rafe Cameron was hard enough when you were going through a tumultuous breakup, but it became damn near impossible once he managed to get a ring on your finger and a prison around you in the form of a fancy house. You looked down at the large rock, a pang going through your chest at the sight of a simple gold band below it.

The wedding had been the grand fanfare it was expected to be, serving it’s purpose of making you the envy of every woman in Kildare County. Your oldest son—having been an only child at the time—was pulled down the aisle in a wagon with a pillow in his lap that contained the rings. Rose had gushed over you in the dressing room, long having convinced herself no woman would ever marry Rafe and she’d never get to experience this. Your father had cried as he handed you off to your husband to be, and tears had kissed your own eyes but just for an entirely different reason.

Your dress was made for a princess, and your veil was made for an angel, and your makeup was made for a doll. Everything was perfect, everything going off without a hitch. Absolutely nothing—not a single thing—had gone wrong, and even though by that point you’d slowly started to accept your fate…something in you had hoped. For what? You weren’t entirely sure.

You’d hoped that some crazy ex girlfriend of Rafe’s would stand up and object. You’d hoped that your brother would go against your wishes and drag you away from it all. Hell, you’d even hoped that someone would choke on their spit and require an ambulance. Deep down though, you’d known what you really hoped for.

You had hoped that Rafe would do the right thing…and let you go.

It was a silly hope. Rafe Cameron had gone through entirely too much trouble to ensure you’d never leave him, even going as far as threatening to take your son away from you. He—both of them—was the only good thing to come out of this. From the first moment you laid eyes on him, you’d wanted him all for yourself and far away from Rafe. The brunette simply didn’t deserve him, and you had no doubt that Rafe would agree, but his selfishness outweighed any thought of doing what was right. That had always been the case.

You didn’t know why you thought your wedding day might be any different.

Rafe moments away from chaining you to him forever? There was no shot in hell of him walking away from that, and you sighed at how naively hopeful you’d been that day. The sound of your oldest son’s laughter pulled you from your thoughts, and you looked over just in time to see him jump to his feet, promptly sprinting towards the foyer. You weren’t worried, knowing exactly who it was that could elicit such a reaction from him.

You swallowed at the sound of Rafe’s voice, taking your 11-month old into your arms.

“...and how were my boys?”

He came into view as he said that, the messy haired little boy upside down in his arms as he kicked his feet and laughed.

You knew the question wasn’t meant for you.

“I was bad,” your son told him, and you fought back a smile, knowing why he said that.

Rafe’s gaze met yours, and the smile that threatened to ghost over your lips was gone. He merely smirked at the sight, rolling his eyes and turning his attention back to the boy in his arms.

“Bad? Oh no,” he chuckled. “Why were you bad?”

“I accidentally spilled juice on mommy’s dress.”

Your son’s words came out small, slurring together a bit with his slight lisp. You’d told him that it was fine—accidents happen—but you knew why he was so hung up on it. As awful as Rafe treated you behind closed doors, he treated you a million times better for the whole world to see. He was smart that way, and the whole world included your children. They saw their dad treat mommy like a princess—none the wiser to what the true nature of your relationship was really like—and so they followed suit.

An offense against you—no matter how small—was especially heinous.

“Oh that is bad,” Rafe murmured, setting him down on his feet. “Guess we’ll have to buy her a new one, huh?”

He ruffled his hair, and your son beamed at the thought of going shopping.

You avoided Rafe’s gaze as he neared you, an impressive feat when he came to kneel down before you. Your youngest was squirming in your arms—babbling—and you swallowed when Rafe reached out to lightly squish his cheeks. He pressed his lips to his tiny forehead just as his hand landed on your own cheek, and only then did you look at him.

Rafe stared at you for what felt like a long time, expression unreadable. Your oldest was going on about something behind him that neither of you were giving too much attention to. His blue eyes looked between yours, studying you, and you could smell his cologne. After what felt like too long, his pink lips finally curved into that haughty half smile you were used to seeing.

It never not made you want to smack it right off of his face.

“...and how was mommy today?” he quietly asked.

There were a thousand things you wanted to say to him.

You wanted to say that mommy cried in the bathroom because she still had thoughts of leaving sometimes even at the loss of her own children, but then she’d remember how much she loved them and couldn’t live without them and the guilt would set in. You wanted to tell him that mommy’s thigh still hurt from where he’d sank his teeth into it the night before for daring to tell him she still hated him sometimes. You even started to tell him that mommy had rare moments here and there where she’d momentarily forget their history and find herself content in this big house with her children and fancy ring until she remembered how her children got here and what said house and ring represented.

You didn’t say any of that though.

Instead, you merely blinked at Rafe, and told him what you always did.

“Mommy was fine.”

The vase narrowly missed Rafe’s head, his quick reflexes making your heart sink with disappointment. Your own quick thinking had you frantically looking around for something else to throw at him, but his feet moved faster than your brain, and he was nearing you before you made up your mind. Unable to stomach being around him, right now, you hurriedly sprinted to the other side of the room. You paid no mind to the way he called your name, a blend of anger and exasperation there.

“Are you done…?”

You didn’t look at him, keeping your angry gaze on the floor. Besides, you didn’t have to in order to know what he looked like. You could imagine it perfectly—steely blue eyes cold and intently focused on you, hands on his hips and jaw clenched so hard you’d swear it was about to break. When you finally did glance at him, you were proven right.

“This little…” he waved his hand about. “...tantrum. You’re finished?”

“Fuck you,” you whispered.

You couldn’t hold in your tears, and they spilled over without your permission. Rafe sucked his teeth at the sight, and when he took a step towards you, you made to leave the living room completely. Your sons were with your mom—they would be the whole weekend—because that was the plan. They would stay with grandma for a few days while you went to Charlotte to visit Pope at school. Rafe was supposed to be handling business with Ward, anyway.

He was not supposed to be sabotaging your plans and canceling car rentals and flights and ruining your entire weekend.

Rafe stopped you before you could get far, and you didn’t even attempt to get away, too defeated and upset to smack him square across the face like you wanted. His fingers dug into your skin, and you wondered if a light bruise would be there in the morning. You could tell by the way he held you that he was upset, but you didn’t understand what he had to be upset about. It had been four years since Rafe started this fucked up dynamic he called a family and over two since you’d reluctantly said ‘I do’. You even gave him another son…and yet…

It was clear now that he still didn’t trust you.

Sure, you had the stray thought or two here and there about escaping, but when it was all said and done, those were just thoughts. Your children meant too much to you to just take off, and even if you ever got to that point one day where you’d happily sacrifice their chance to grow up with a mother just to have your own freedom, Rafe would never let that happen. Your fate was sealed from the very moment he’d decided you were it for him.

“I haven’t seen my brother in months. It’s his last year of school, and I didn’t want the next time I see him to be at his Goddamn graduation,” you spat, lips trembling. “You said you were okay with it!”

“Yeah, I was,” Rafe replied in a tone that hinted at more to come.

You were right.

“...but then I remembered that this would be the first time we’d be apart for a distance more than thirty miles and how way up there in Charlotte you could disappear to wherever you wanted and-.”

“You wouldn’t have to worry about any of that if we had a normal relationship,” you cut him off, a sneer on your lips. “You wouldn’t have to worry about the possibility of me running away from you if you’d never hurt me and raped me and damn near threatened me into marrying you.”

At those words, Rafe let you go as if you burned him, and you reminded yourself how much Rafe hated to be reminded of why you were really here. You were positive he sometimes convinced himself that this relationship was as real as it could be—the perfect parents with the perfect children and the perfect marriage. After all, it was what everyone on the outside saw when they were looking in.

The difference between the two of you it seemed was that you knew it was all pretend.

Rafe liked to believe that it wasn’t.

“All of that aside…do you really think I’d leave them?”

Your question came out whispered, and you didn’t miss the slight twitch in Rafe’s face. Leave them…not leave him. Rafe was smart in knowing that knocking you up would be the only thing to truly prevent you from leaving, and yet he absolutely hated to be reminded of it. To be reminded that it was not—and never would be—him keeping you here.

His expression morphed, a shadow passing over his features as he glanced away, shoving a hand into his pocket.

“I can’t take that chance,” was all he said, making more tears spill over. “Pope’s not going anywhere. You can always see him another time.”

You pulled your lip between your teeth in anger, and when he reached for you, he was stopped by a harsh slap to the cheek. Your lips wouldn’t stop trembling, and you just stared at him as he rubbed his face.

“You have taken so much from me, Rafe,” you mumbled, rolling your eyes at him. “If your goal is to make sure we’re both absolutely miserable…then keep it up.”

You turned away from him, refusing to spare him another look as you made your way upstairs to unpack your suitcase.

Most days in your marriage were okay. They weren’t awful, and they weren't’ exactly anything you’d jump at the chance to relive. They were simply just…okay. On those days, Rafe would wake you up with a kiss, sometimes more than that, and you’d start your day—usually something that consisted of preparing for your children to wake up. They made those days stand a chance at being somewhat enjoyable, and you thought to yourself that maybe one day when they were old enough, you’d tell them how much they did for you without even knowing.

On the days where your marriage wasn’t okay, you were usually overcome with how you really felt about Rafe. Those days didn’t come as often as they used to—a fact you didn’t like to let your mind linger on—but when they did, they usually ended in your tears.

…and Rafe pinning you down and just taking what he wanted.

Rafe had felt entitled to your body long before he put the ring on your finger, but after you took his last name, his entitlement went to an entirely new level. You recalled a day where you had the house to yourselves and how silly you’d been to think Rafe would respect your wish to be alone.

“Do you know what this means?” he’d harshly asked, squeezing your left hand as he held it up for both of you to see.

The 4-carat marquise solitaire glinted under the bright kitchen light.

“It means you’re my wife, it means you’re mine,” he’d hissed, getting in real close and touching your nose with his. “Do you get how patient I’ve been? How patient I am?”

You’d shrank away from him, wincing at the slight pain in your left hand.

“I know this hasn’t been easy for you, but it’s been years,” he’d told you. “There’s a ring on your finger and two little boys walking around with my face. You need to suck it up!”

The counter had been harsh against your stomach as he bent you over it.

The good days in your marriage were even more rare, and even those ended in you feeling sad for yourself. It was usually a whole day of your boys keeping a smile on your face, the feeling so infectious that even Rafe couldn’t make it go away. And that’s how you’d find yourself smiling at him and playing with your children together and actually acting like a family. Only…on those rare days…it wasn’t acting. For just several hours, everything that Rafe was and everything he’d done would be so far from your mind.

You’d find yourself bathing your youngest together—your oldest only listening to you when it was time to wash behind his ears—cooing over the baby that was just shy of turning one years old. You’d let your son run into your arms as he hid from the ‘tickle monster’, playfully pushing at Rafe’s chest as you protected the three year old from him. Sometimes you’d even fall asleep with your head so close to Rafe’s lap as he read to them, your son begging you both to stay until he fell asleep.

Of all the days in your marriage that you’d anticipated being the hardest, the ‘good’ days were not among them. Reality would set in during the morning, sometimes even that same night, and your chest would ache as you held back tears because what you and Rafe had was not real. It wasn’t a real marriage, and you weren’t a real family, and on those days where you forgot that, the truth just hit so much harder. All of the anger and disappointment would come back…and then the fear would set in.

It scared you how easily you could slip into that headspace and live in some alternate reality where Rafe was a good husband and your children hadn’t been the product of rape and you didn’t have errant thoughts of what it would be like to be free of him. It scared you how good it felt to forget it all, how a day might come where instead of finding yourself slipping into that mindset, you just…chose it.

It would be so easy.

…but you felt like you owed it to yourself to hate him forever.

Sometimes he made hating him so easy…and then other times so, so hard.

“They’re so sweet to you,” he murmured in the low lighting, both of your kids fast asleep in their room. 

You’d been trying to find sleep of your own, but Rafe’s phone call with Ward left you both up long after you wanted to be. You were unfortunately wide awake when slid in beside you, and your unopened eyes didn’t fool Rafe in the slightest. He knew you were awake.

“I would hope so,” you murmured, staring at the back of your eyelids as he lightly traced patterns into your satin covered stomach.

Your husband chuckled to himself.

“I mean they look at you like you hung the moon,” he quietly continued. “Especially your shadow…”

He was referring to your oldest.

“I’m barely there for him whenever you’re in the same room,” he whispered. “He’s happy that I’m home and he hugs me, but then it’s straight back to mommy.”

You slowly opened your eyes as Rafe’s hand became flat against your stomach, gently rubbing it.

“He treats you like a princess…”

You met his gaze at that, and you couldn’t quite place the look in Rafe’s eyes.

“...and I’m especially happy about it on days when I don’t.”

You sighed at that, staring at the ceiling.

“I’m glad that he’s nothing like me…”

You remembered Rafe saying something similar years ago before the boy in question had even been born, and you blinked as he leaned in, gently ghosting his lips over your cheek. You were tempted to push him away, but then you asked yourself if you wanted to start a fight so late in the night. Instead, you turned your head to face Rafe, your lips a hair’s width away from his own.

“I’m glad he’s nothing like you too,” you whispered.

You didn’t miss the way his face fell at that, a tick in his jaw that told you your words had the desired effect. Instead of saying something along the lines of what you both knew he wanted to say, Rafe merely heaved a sigh, still gently rubbing your stomach. He suddenly pushed himself up onto his elbow, looking down at you.

A smirk ghosted over his lips.

“I want another baby.”

Those words were the last thing you’d been expecting, and your eyes widened just a tad.

“...what?”

“Let’s try for a girl this time,” he suggested, and realizing that he was indeed serious, you sat up.

His hand fell away from your stomach.

“This time?” you murmured, more to yourself than him. “I don’t recall trying for anything the previous times.”

The mention of what he did to you had Rafe going silent, and when you looked at him, his nostrils were flaring.

“It can be different this time-.”

“How?” you wondered, frowning at him. “How will it be different this time? The only time I touch you is when I’m forced to, and I don’t know, that sounds pretty fucking familiar to me.”

Rafe’s hand had circled around your chin before you had time to react—he was sitting up now too—and you both just cooly stared at each other. He looked like he wanted to hurt you, and you stared back, just waiting for him to prove you right. He seemed to be toying with the thought, and after a few moments, he slowly exhaled through his nose.

His thumb brushed over your bottom lip, his blue eyes following the action.

A million thoughts were racing through his mind, that much you could tell by the emotions that flickered over his features. Eventually he settled on one, pulling his lip between his teeth.

“You’re not always unhappy…”

It was said like a statement, but there was a lilt there that told you he wanted an answer.

“No,” you eventually responded, honestly. “Not always.”

He nodded.

“...but I’m unhappy more than I’m happy.”

He closed his eyes at that, and you swallowed.

“What did you expect, Rafe? Sure, four years is a lot, but it’s also not when I think about everything you did to me.”

He dropped his hand and pushed himself to his feet. You watched him stand there, staring at the wall with his hands on his hips.

“...and what makes it worse is that you’re not even sorry. I know how much you want me to ‘just get over it’, but how am I expected to get over it when we both know you’d do it all over again so long as it got you the same result?” you choked out. “You’re not sorry for any of it.”

You blinked away tears.

“...and now you’re mad at me so much because I won’t roll over and play house.”

You saw his shoulders heave, and you could tell how much this conversation was frustrating him. Rafe really hated to be reminded of his own actions, hated to be reminded of the fact that your relationship was where it was because of him. You couldn’t find it in yourself to care. You were the one trapped in this gilded cage…not him.

“So, if you want another baby…” you quietly started. “...either something needs to change…or you just embrace the beast we both know you can be.”

His eyes snapped to yours at that, and as much as it made your heart skip a beat, Rafe rarely scared you anymore. You’d seen him and experienced him at his absolute worst. There really wasn’t much he could do to you anymore that would shock you…and he knew it. 

His baby blues glinted dangerously, and you bit your tongue.

He did the opposite of what you expected, and you watched him turn away from you to leave the room. You didn’t relax, knowing he’d come back, but you did heave a tired sigh, telling yourself that sleep couldn’t come fast enough.

Rafe’s hand tightened around your throat as he kissed you, the alcohol on your tongue making the kiss taste sweet. The world was moving so slow around you, and every place that Rafe touched felt like you were being gently electrocuted. Deep in the crevices of your mind, you knew that something was wrong. You hadn’t kissed Rafe like this in years, not since the early days of your relationship when you thought you might have loved him, and butterflies were in your stomach at one look from him.

You recalled the sight of your empty wine glass on the carpet, the rest of the red wine you didn’t drink staining the white fabric.

Your kids were asleep and the house was quiet and you were kissing your husband like you used to—back when he wasn’t your husband. Rafe had your back to the wall just barely on the inside of your bedroom, your hand struggling to reach out to the door. Rafe grabbed it, threading his fingers through your own, and you made a slight noise of protest.

He made a shushing noise into the kiss.

“Just relax…”

Relax.

That word triggered something in you, and you pressed your other hand to his chest. You were far too relaxed to be sober, and considering you only had one glass of wine, you knew that other substances were at play here. You recalled Rafe voicing his desire for another baby just the other day…and you recalled the slight back and forth it’d created. You expected one of two things out of Rafe, but neither of them included a scenario where you were too inebriated to properly fight back against him.

There was something especially sinister about Rafe creating this false sense of consent.

His lips traveled down towards your neck as he bent his head, and you felt like you didn’t have control over your body as you threw your head back. You shakily exhaled when both of his hands descended towards your waist, lifting you and forcing you towards the California king. When he settled you both onto it, all pretense was gone.

“Don’t you want a little girl?” he whispered against your skin, his fingers dancing along the place from where your shirt had ridden up. “Hmm? I know you get sick of being with just us boys.”

You made a noise that was unintelligible even to your ears, pushing at his head, but it was of no use. Whatever he slipped into your drink clearly wasn’t in his, Rafe having all of his strength and wits about him as he pinned you down. He kissed you again—slow—as his hands circled around your wrists. It took your breath away, and your lashes fluttered when he descended.

“A princess for my princess…”

You reached out to place a hand on the bed to steady yourself. Although you knew it was the room spinning, not you, and so focused on that, you didn’t even realize what Rafe was doing until the cool air you’d briefly felt against your core was replaced by his mouth. The action made your back arch, and—against your will—you reached down to press your hand against his head.

He hummed in between your thighs.

“You never let me do this anymore,” you heard him whisper, his breath against your skin before he dived back in.

To be fair, you never let him do anything, but especially this. It was too intimate, too loving, and those words were so far from the true nature of your relationship it wasn’t even funny. After all, Rafe was now at a place where he had to drug you just to get you to stop fighting against him. You found it interesting because he never minded the fight before. In fact, you’d even say that some part of him enjoyed it.

You wondered what had changed.

His head moved back and forth between your thighs, and it made you squirm. One of Rafe’s hands reached up to dig into your leg, holding you still. The other found your hand, and you were unable to remember that you didn’t like holding his hand. Another gesture that you felt was too intimate, something Rafe always liked to pretend that your relationship was.

Just when you were on the brink of coming all over his tongue, your husband pulled away, but not before pressing a quick kiss to the inside of your thigh. With stars just barely floating in your vision, you laid there, eyes falling closed as you fought to regulate your breathing.

A voice in your head told you that you didn’t want this, and that you needed to get up…but you couldn’t find the strength to.

When Rafe’s hands were on you again, they were pulling away every piece of fabric they touched, and you couldn’t help the tears that kissed your eyes. Being forced to feign compliance in your own assault somehow hurt a thousand times worse than if Rafe had simply grabbed you and held you down. You wondered if this made it easier on him, and you thought about how much Rafe hated being reminded of the things he did to you.

It was like it hurt him to remember it that way, to acknowledge it for what it was.

When he slid into you, you couldn’t help the small whimper you let out, eyes rolling as he stretched you out. Rafe’s hands were on you, pulling you closer, and as if your arms had a mind of their own, you threw them around him. His chest was pressed to yours as he thrust into you, and you pressed your face into the crook of his neck. He cursed when he sank into you again, and your toes curled.

“You’re so mean to me, you know that?”

One of his hands tangled in the hair at the nape of your neck.

“...have to drug my own wife just to get her to fuck me…”

Your nails dragged along the expanse of his back, and Rafe hummed at the feeling. You’d forgotten what it felt like to lie beneath him and just let him have his way with you. It felt like so long since he hadn’t had to force you down and take his cock despite what you may have wanted. Although, your current position wasn’t all that different, but you couldn’t ignore how relaxed you were from whatever he’d slipped you.

Rafe shifted, hands pressed into the mattress on either side of your head. His blue eyes glinted in the low lighting, and you blearily blinked up at him as he gazed down at you. He leaned in, pressing his forehead to yours while still holding your gaze. Your lips parted at a particularly hard thrust, and the corner of his lips curved upwards at the sight.

Deep in the back of your mind, you knew you didn’t want this, but it was for so many reasons that you were struggling to remember. For the time being, all you could focus on was the curve of his cock as he repeatedly pushed it into you and how good it made you feel. One of your legs hooked around his waist, and Rafe’s perfect teeth winked at you as he grinned.

“I missed this, beautiful,” he whispered. “You know that?”

The bed jostled from your movements, and Rafe glanced down between you to watch himself disappear into you. 

“I can’t wait to fill you up,” he told you, making your heart skip a beat and reminding you of how and why you’d found yourself in this position in the first place. “Can’t wait to see you swollen and round again and fucking glowing.”

You murmured his name, but you couldn’t tell if it was in protest or not.

Your mind was all over the place, and when Rafe’s hips curved into yours again, you arched your chest up into his. Sweat clung to your frame, and you briefly wondered how made you would be at him in the morning. You knew this wouldn’t be his only attempt—Rafe always proving to be more than thorough when trying for a baby—and you now weakly wondered about having to be cautious of the food in your own house.

You could tell when he was close, his thrusts becoming sloppy and his breathing picking up. He started  to kiss you more, each kiss becoming  messier and more open mouthed than the last. In your inebriated state of mind, you kissed him back, alarm bells going off deep within your bones. Your own breathing was labored, like you couldn’t get air into your lungs fast enough.

When Rafe came the first time—and you knew that it would be the first of the night—he grunted in your ear as he spilled into you. Your nails were trailing along his skin as he plunged his cock into you, not even stopping when you felt him start to soften, lazily thrusting into your folds. Your own climax was just around the corner when he spoke.

“I will fuck you all night,” he whispered against your cheek, his tone vaguely threatening. “I will fuck you as many times as it takes until you give me what I want.”

He leaned back a bit, his nose touching yours as he tilted his head, eyeing you in a way that made your skin grow cold.

“...and I will do whatever I have to to make you…” he looked between your unfocused eyes. “...agreeable.”

Kamala lost, jj maybank dead, and now bucktommy broke up. Chat am I gonna make it???

"I wish everyone had gotten to know him. Really know him. Because they would've loved him" - Dustin Henderson