Rafe black pickup truck was parked prominently near the entrance, windows down, engine off. Inside, his girl lay face-down across the passenger seat, bent over the leather, her pink miniskirt hiked up to her waist. Her thong was yanked to the side, exposing the smooth, tanned curve of her perky ass and the glistening pink of her tight pussy.

“You’re mine, baby,” Rafe drawled, his voice low and possessive, his blue eyes glinting with control. “And I decide who gets a piece of you. You thank me for it, yeah?”

She nodded, her glossy lips parting in a soft whimper. “Yes, Rafey.”

The first guy appeared—a Kook in a polo, mid-20s, strolling by with a golf bag. He froze when he saw her exposed ass, the way her thighs trembled slightly, her pussy glistening in the open air. Rafe leaned out the window, grinning. “Go on, man. Touch her. She’s mine, but I’m feeling generous.”

The guy hesitated, then stepped closer, his hand grazing her round ass. His fingers squeezed her flesh, tentative at first, then bolder, kneading her like dough. Her breath hitched, but she kept her eyes on Rafe, her lips quivering.

It didn’t take too long for the crowd to grew—three, then four Kooks, all drawn by the obscene display. Rafe’s smirk widened, his cock twitching in his shorts at the sight of his bunny being used. One guy, bolder than the rest, a frat type with a smug grin, stepped up. “Can I…?” he asked, eyes locked on her dripping pussy.

Rafe tilted his head, considering, then nodded. “Make it quick.”

Her eyes widened slightly, but she didn’t protest. She never did. The guy’s thick fingers slid into her tight, wet heat, one at first, then two, stretching her with a slick, obscene sound. She moaned, her ass instinctively rocking back to meet his thrusts, her pussy clenching around the intrusion. Her curves bounced with each movement, her thong stretched taut, her breasts pressed into the seat. She looked at Rafe, her eyes pleading, worshipping, even as a stranger’s fingers pumped deep inside her.

“Thank you, Rafey,” she gasped, her voice high and desperate, her hips grinding back like the slut she’d been molded into. “Thank you for… for letting them…”

Rafe leaned closer, his hand reaching out to grip her chin, forcing her to hold his gaze.

“That’s my good girl,” he purred, his thumb brushing her glossy lips. “You take what I give you, don’t you?”

“Yes, Rafey.”

“fuckin’ probation, man. can you believe that shit?” rafe takes a sharp drag of the sparked blunt tucked between his fingers. topper and kelce couldn’t hear the low mutter of his voice, but the blonde’s suppressed belligerence spoke volumes that they didn’t wish to provoke.

the music in the club was booming, so much so that rafe could barely hear his own thoughts. that seemed to be working in his favour currently, because those were the last things that he wanted to pay attention to. he had come for an escape but as the itchy craving for the sweet euphoric release became ever-present in the man’s mind, he realized had dug his own grave deeper than he thought.

the boy thought he could escape karma, dealing drugs in every nook and cranny in figure eight. it was a messy industry, in which he found himself staring down the muzzle of a steel black gun every other week. the deeds he committed were fueled by unethicality and dripped with immorality. he would never admit it out loud, but he enjoyed it. he lived for the thrill of having rich, coke-addicted bastards right at his mercy just because he was the only dealer that could give them their fix for miles. and nothing got his adrenaline pumping more than sticking a bullet in the skull of any one of them that tried him. he wanted them to test him wrongly, to give him a reason to show them all just who they were fucking with.

he was on top of the world, running an underground empire that would only flourish more with time. but as long as he was under daddy cameron’s thumb, it would soon be nothing but a bittersweet memory. ward had found out about his son’s little “shitshow” just 4 days ago, having stumbled across the debaucherous amount of hard drugs and cash stored right under his roof. the last thing the cameron’s needed in their family was another addition to the ever-growing rapsheet they had accumulated. this was the final straw. 

rafe’s fist slams down on the bar’s marble counter. his head was beginning to pound, the foreshadowing migraine accumulating between his brows making him all the more triggering. his fuse was sparked. he needed something, anything to get his mind off or fix the current mess he’s gotten himself into.

“...goddamnit. i need to get the hell outta here… gotta come up with a plan or something to get myself unfucked.” 

his statement went heard by his “friends”, to which the brunette to his left asked him what the point of plotting any further was. at this point, the best thing would just be to lay low until the whole probation thing blew over. rafe wasn’t having that. not a damned bit. and he was well near to cussing out everyone in the establishment just for the hell of it.

“the point is, dipshit, that i need any kind of reprieve i can get. c’mon, man. think about it.” his tone carried the amplitude of his growing distress, his shaking hand carrying the joint to his lips before he took a hasty hit. “if i don’t get myself out of this shit pronto, my dad’s gonna bust my ass and cut me loose, a’ight? he says i need to grow up, show him that i’m not gonna fuck around anymore. and, shit… if i don’t he’s gonna go to the police or somethin’, kick me out of the house. then i’m off to the fuckin’ cut with all the pogues n’ shit.”

rafe’s voice dropped an octave at the mention of that. despite how low the blonde had stooped in many aspects of his life, there was a line he would never cross. they might as well have been the scum of the earth. it was ironic and he knew it, considering his history and all. he couldn’t bring himself to care, not even a little bit.

“you goons are useless. fucking hopeless. i need another smoke.” he mutters lowly under his breath. he slips out of his barstool, running a hand over his buzzed head as he exhaled a deep breath. the stress was beginning to get to him, and he knew it. he could feel the remaining shreds of his sanity slowly slipping out of his feeble grasp like sand. 

a storm was brewing within him, and he so badly wanted it to break free. he wanted to unleash its wrath in a way that would force everything to be okay again. but then again, that was exactly what got him into this disaster in the first place, letting his damn temper cloud his conscience. but he wasn’t ready to let go of that anger just yet. no, not by a long shot.

his heavy footsteps thump against the club’s floor as he storms out of the establishment, pushing the door open with an ample forearm. his feet hit the pavement with quick steps, only slowing down once he reached an alley. dark. concealed. with a shit-ton of trash around to make him feel less shitty about himself. perfect.

rafe leans back against the cold bricked wall, concealed by the night’s darkness as he dug into his pocket, retrieving his half-empty box of pre-rolls and lighter. he tucks the weed’s end between his lips, flicking on the lighter with practiced efficiency and wasting no time taking a long drag. he plucked it from his lips and exhaled a thick ribbon of smoke, muttering lowly to himself. “...fuck.”

he recollected his father’s words. he made no mistake in realizing their severity. as if the older cameron had ever cracked a joke in his life. rafe had no more than three days to prove himself. to demonstrate an act that displayed him as more than the volatile bastard he had painted himself to be. to put on a facade and show that he wasn’t exactly that.

his thoughts grew stormy once again almost instantly. he huffed out a bitter laugh, shaking his head slowly as he took another hit of his blunt. “...’grow up’. what a fucking joke.” he speaks the words out loud into the crisp coldness, the air having just enough bite to it to rationalize his thoughts, even if only slightly.

if running a drug empire all on his own for months on end without a thread of suspicious from anyone wasn’t him “growing up”, then he didn’t know what the hell would be. he had done things that men twice his age would dream of and get sick to their stomachs. he was as grown as they came. that was the problem.

his blunt went out with a sheer sizzle, the slightest breath putting it out. that damn near did it for him. cursing with an impulsive punch to the wall’s exterior, he tossed the lifeless roll to the ground and stomped on it with his blackened boot. it was moments like this that made him feel like the entire world was against him, from his own family right down to the wind. he felt the thin fibres of self-control within him snapping away quickly. he didn’t know how much more he could take.

his lighter had given out, too. the last bit of fuel had been wasted on that joke of a pre-roll. and he still needed another smoke. grumbling sourly, rafe shoves his fists into his pocket, stomping intently out of the alley and onto the sidewalk.

the streets were cast with a deep blue as the moon shone from above. its beauty was not lost on the man, but it was hard to enjoy the little things in life when he hated every last thing about his. his steps grew quick and rash, the only ones treading down the blackened street. there was no reason at all to raise his head and look where he was going. 

it all happened in the blink of an eye. the man had crashed into you, eyes downcast and disposition sketchy enough for you to get that natural instinct to run in the other direction. you were walking up the street, clutching your skimpy disgrace of a jacket to your chest as you made a beeline for the club. it was shameful, the way you had to arrive at the place at 11pm sharp to strip on a pole for men with trust funds and ironed polos just to earn barely a buck per hour. but it was all you could get, and damn it all if the thought of a quick, cheap fuck didn’t seem appetizing right now. your head had been down, gaze glued to the ground to avoid showing your face. your steps were quick and soft, his were loud and bustling. no wonder he didn’t notice you.

his burly body tips you off your balance instantly. you hit the ground with a quiet “oof” your knees and palms grazing the rough sidewalk. rafe stumbles and nearly hits the ground right on top of you as he trips over your outstretched calf.

“fucking watch it!” his booms, hastily regaining his balance as he dusted himself off, as if he could smell the “slut-stains” right off of you. that quick glimpse he caught of you was all he needed to determine how you deserved to be treated: like all the others whores that roamed the streets freely when they really deserved to be… elsewhere. his already hardened expression darkens further as he glares at you beneath him, his demeaning gaze glued right to your ass, exposed by the thin fabric of your satin slip shifting away.

his words hit you like a tug to the hair, not necessarily painful but damn annoying in terms of basic courtesy. like all other men you encountered on a day-to-day basis, he just had a way of making you feel even more shitty when you thought you were already at your lowest.

you hiss softly, grimacing as you pick yourself up off of the ground. your knees were raw and scarped, but were nothing in comparison to the crime scene that laid right in your palms. the were scraped down to a red mess, little bits of pebbles and debris clinging to your exposed nerves. as if shit couldn’t get any worse for you.

you mutter a curse under your breath, your displeased gaze snapping up to meet the face of the man in front of you. “excuse me? watch your mouth and apologize. you bumped into me.” you tried your hardest to make your tone sound as authoritative as you felt, but the spreading pain in your hands and knees made your finicky confidence all the more fleeting.

rafe opened his mouth, a barrage of words more than ready to spill. but as much as he wanted to cuss you out, his sentence fell short as he did a double take, now truly looking at you. and, god, did he wish he had taken a moment to see you before opening his mouth the first time.

your expression was contorted into a pained snarl. your makeup looked like it was the remaining residue from the night before. your attire consisted of skimpy clothes and shoes that looked like they were lent to you from an ex-boyfriend. your erect nipples poked through the silken fabric of your satin slip. your stockings had little rips here and there, the largest ones now being in place of your bloodied knees. you looked like you hadn’t had a meal for a few days at minimum, surviving solely on whatever shitty scraps the pennies you made from stripping could get you.

you were a damn mess. you were perfect. the very thing, or rather woman, who could... 

rafe had to think quickly. the idea flowed into his head like a waterfall, the very thing that could get his ass out of this. how the hell hadn’t he thought of this sooner? it was a flawless plan, almost too perfect. and in the mind-clogging haze that he was in, he knew he had to act quickly.

his daze doesn’t get broken for a long moment, his gaze glued to you as if getting a read on your soul until you turned around. your pace returned as normal, if not a little quicker the second you realized the man was following you. your stealth steps turned to frantic strides as his presence behind you grew more evident instead of disappearing. 

you knew you were fucked by the time your walking turned to running, with him effortlessly gaining on you with his long strides.

“...w-wait..! hold on one second!” rafe called out, reaching out to grab you by your hood but just missing by a hair. you were hardly two feet out of his grasp. he could’ve caught you easily in any other situation, but that first encounter was still messing with him. “...shit. i… i’ve got some gauze and, uh, alcohol in my car! i can clean you up before you get infected or whatever!” 

your feet carried you wildly right into the alley that he came from, but then you stopped. your pathetic excuse of running gradually slows down as you hear his latter sentence. it barely took him a second to catch up to you, bumping into you slightly from behind. 

you felt your heart beating in your throat, the rapidness of it making your blood run cold as you slowly, hesitantly turned around to face the man. once you were face-to-face, you slowly began to regain your breathing. your eyes fell on his face, his slight panting causing his chest to rise and fall.

he looked rough, to say the least. but you knew that you were in no place to judge. he pulled off the homeless look quite naturally, though there was something about him that screamed “old money”. a pit formed in your stomach the second your eyes locked on him, and yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to look away.

before your system had time to react, he had taken your hand and was now inspecting it closely with what seemed to be the eye of an expert.

“...looks, uh… looks pretty bad… shit could get infected pretty fast if you don’t do somethin’. so, uh, how ‘bout i make this whole thing up to ya’, huh? got a first aid kit in my car ‘nd everything.”

his voice. it was grossly different than the one that had boomed at you barely a minute prior. the way he spoke, the way he so gingerly held your hand like you were a wounded fawn. like you were art…

your eyes remained wide, stunned by both the escalation of the situation and how quickly the man had flipped the switch. you opened your mouth to reject him, but a shooting sting snapped through your exposed veins as the slightest breeze grazed your eroded flesh. after a long moment of hesitation, you nodded slowly, gaze not leaving his moonlit face for even a second.

with that, he began to lead you out of the alley, back onto the street as he kept you close to him. a muscled arm came you wrap around your shoulders, the gestured unexpected and unwelcome in this circumstance. you glance up at his face as that sickening feeling in your gut only continued to blossom. you couldn’t tell exactly what graced his face at the moment he had begun walking you out of the alley, but it appeared to be the ghosting hint of a… smile..? 

not the kind of smile a friend would show a friend, or that a stranger would show another stranger during a regular act of compassion. no. this smile wasn’t compassionate or clean at all. a leer was what it was. incarnated malice right in the flesh.

no. your instincts were screaming at you. telling you that something was off. pleading with you to walk away and not look back. you could barely speak but when you did, your voice came out a meek murmur. “...a-actually, sir… i-i’ve got somewhere to be. i can just get patched up when i get there. thank you for the offer, truly.”

as quickly as the words left your mouth, you were off and walking in the other direction. you tried to keep your steps as controlled and normal-seeming as possible, but you just couldn’t shake the feeling that the state of your life had shifted. like nothing was ever going to be the same again.

your quick striding feet didn’t slow for a single second. but then they had to, halting at the exact moment an unmistakable sound clicked at the back of your head. the echoing click of a cocked gun.

you felt the colour drain from your face as the muzzle pressed against the back of your head, the same voice that had spoken to you so timidly sounding once again, nothing like what it had once seemed.

“it’s your move, bitch...” rafe had experienced madness before, it was practically a constant in his life considering his profession. but, damn, did this feel right. he felt you freeze up right in front of him, at the mercy of his bullet as your body began to tremble.

grow up. grow up, his father had said to him. rafe had had bitches lining up at his door for miles, begging for a taste of him and basking in the drops that he’d scatter among them. but if that wasn’t mature enough, he’d take it up a step. 

he was going to get married. he was going to get a goddamn wife and have a wedding as big and flashy as he wanted to show them all that he was as grown up at they came. it was a perfect plan, formulated in the most deranged part of his mind with every last detail planned. except for the fact that he was missing the most important thing of them all: his bride. but that problem had solved itself just as quickly as it had sprouted. rafe couldn’t help the twisted little grin that lit up his face as your bloodied legs quaked.

“...yeah… didn’t fuckin’ expect that, did you?” 

you couldn’t move. you were frozen on your feet, praying to whoever was up in the clouds to make sure that this wasn’t how you died. if it was, you were surely burning in hell the second your heart stopped beating.

“...p-please… please, i-i’ll do anything, okay?…” you stammer out, making that sick little thing inside of him that seemed to feed on despair spark with what could only be delight.

“damn right you will, bitch. and you can start by walking exactly where i tell you to. walk too fast, walk too slow, and go as fucking far as even thinking about screaming, i’ll blow your brains out and make sure no one even notices that you ain’t around anymore, do you understand?”

his face was buried in the crook of your neck as the hot breath of his slow words sent goosebumps pricking all over you. you weren’t the sharpest tool in the shed by any means, but you knew better than to test out if his words were just a threat. you did no more than nod slowly, his finger just itching to pull the trigger if you did anything wrong. but when you complied so simply, he hummed deeply, taking a minor step back from you.

“...good girl.“

his instructions were flat and sardonic. you would walk to his truck parked in the specified area acting as if it were your own. then you were to get into the passenger’s seat and buckle yourself into it, sitting patiently until he arrived and hopped into the driver’s seat right next to you.

you followed his rules to the last letter. feeling like a shell of a human as he stuck his keys into the ignition and started the car. as he pulled out of the parking lot and sped off into the night, you wanted nothing more than to break into sobs right on the spot. but you didn’t. you sat there silently, forgetting to breathe as you stared blankly at the caked up blood on your hands and knees.

rafe had pulled up his hood, concealing his ice-cold stare and leaving only his angular nose and structured lips visible. you couldn’t lift your head to face him, but you could feel everything. you were seeing him in his true light now. and to keep things brief, it was terrifying.

rafe hands remained on the steering wheel, his disposition stone cold as the streets he drove on became less and less familiar to you. by no means did rafe believe in “higher powers”, especially not while his life was a shitshow playing on live. but as he looked at you, taking in your suppressed squirms and bound up limbs in the passenger seat, he knew that you were nothing short of a miracle.

“...i-i… i have a boyfriend.” you internally curse yourself for opening your mouth to speak. you continue anyway. “...he’ll pay you as much money as you want. j-just don’t hurt me. i’ll give you the address and you can drop me off there and yo–”

“god-fucking-damn. you just don’t shut up, do ya?” the snap of his demeanor makes you jump in your seat, instantly shutting up. hm. submissive. rafe thought to himself. already displaying a desired quality in a wife. 

an uncomfortable silence fell over you two, the only sound being the low whir of the vehicle on the road. though he didn’t seem bothered in the slightest. no, he was… relieved.

“that fuckin’ ‘boyfriend’ of yours,” he put drawled emphasis on the word. he had only just met you and he could already tell when you were lying. “isn’t gonna be too pleased when he hears what’s gonna happen to you in two days. but the fucker is more than welcome to come to the wedding if he wants to see how a real man treats his woman.”

your eyes widen at least twice your size. the second your open your mouth to stupidly ask what he means, the truck comes to an abrupt stop, halting on the side of a house larger than you’d ever seen.

rafe parks the car before grabbing the headrest of the passenger seat. he gaze landed down on you, taking in your apprehensive expression, your blood-crusted body, the shaky breaths that rattled your lungs ever so slightly, the slow rise and fall of your peeking tits…

“listen to me and listen good, y’hear me.” he speaks lowly, leaving not a second of room for response or confusion. “as of right now, you are my bitch. you’re goddamn my fiancee, and you’re completely fuckin’ in love with me. you do everything i say, you call me ‘baby’ ‘nd all that shit, and you act right and do everything i tell you. our wedding is in two days. i’m takin’ you out first thing in the morning to buy a dress. a white one, a clean one, one that i bet your whore-ass isn’t used to.” he pauses for a moment, wishing that he’d swallowed those last words. if he wanted this to go well, it probably wasn’t the best idea to screw this up with petty insults so quickly. shit. “you got a name or somethin’?” he asks flatly in a vain attempt to “break the ice”. you left his question unanswered, deeming it safer to stay silent for as long as you could.

he clears his throat, letting his stare slowly fall down to take in your… qualities. you were a pretty woman, no doubt about it. underneath all the blood and junk, you were nearly everything he looked for in a wife. and all he needed to get his slate cleaned.

“you can, uh, pick out any dress you want. i don’t give a damn how expensive or long or… poofy, or whatever. just… shit, don’t fuck this up for me, okay? i’m in deep shit right now and you could really help me out if you just cooperate. and i won’t hurt ya’ either.” he grabs the gun that he kept under his leg, shaking it loosely in the air before tossing it in the backseat. he was trying to prove that he wouldn’t hurt you. as fucked up as this entire night was, every word he said sunk in. as far as you were concerned, you were going to be a married woman.

slowly, hesitantly, rafe extends a bruised, calloused hand to you. a pathetic request for a handshake. a request for peace. your mind curses your body as i reluctantly extend your swollen hand to his, letting him take yours and trying to ignore the burning sensation that arose as he squeezed your raw skin. you assumed that you were imagining the slight flicker of pleasure that arose from him at that moment. but in the darkly lit atmosphere of the truck, it was hard to tell.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

you didn't think it was possible to plan a wedding as extravagant as this one within 48 hours, but here you were, standing right in front of the glittering chandeliers and flambouyant paraphernalia. two days had passed and came faster than you could process, and you could hardly recognize the man who stood in front of you, dressed to the nines in that pressed black tux. 

the church’s organ played grandly in the distance, the pews filled to the brim with kooks seated on the right and pogues expelled to the left. 

“do you take rafe cameron as your devoted husband from this day forward?”

the priest’s deep voice boomed through the glass walls of the dark church. you swallowed hard, the gazes of all those in the audience cloaking you in a cold blanket as the question rang out in your ears.

you didn’t miss the shit-eating grin that was plastered on rafe, your soon-to-be husband’s face as everything began to set in stone. just last night, after he had forcibly gotten you into bed with him in what was meant to be a romantic night between future husband and wife, he had told you everything as his calloused fingers stroked slow circles onto your bare hip. the tragic backstory, how he had fucked up life up royally, and why he had to do this. he said it all with such chilling monotony, like it was the most typical thing in the world, that you were trapped between hating the man’s guts and liking him just a twinge because of how… real he was.

rafe locked your bandaged hands with his, staring down at you with a gaze intense enough to freeze blood. there was little he could do to make himself presentable. but he just had to do something for his wedding. he let you pick out what champagne he sprayed on along with the black dress shoes he had on. he had even offered to let you select which boxer briefs he had on, though you weren’t too keen on the prospect of that just yet. in a matter of seconds, life had just become serious for you. his calloused fingers massaged slow circles onto your lightly trembling hands, the anticipation of your answer coming in palpable waves from all around. 

“i do.”

your voice broke through the thick tension, relieved sighs coming from a few. it wasn’t too late for you to run. you just make a dash for it and leave this man on the alter all alone, free to find a woman just as insane as him to fit his narrative instead. but as rafe nodded ever so slightly, tucking a stray lock of your hair into your neatly packed bun, you felt that lump that had been in your stomach since he abducted you dissolve, slowly but surely. 

the coolness in the room dissipated, your body being replaced with an overwhelming sense of heat, despite your arms and chest bones being exposed in your wedding dress. it was constructed of white velvet, with a train that slithered behind you with every step you took. it was studded with diamonds that made you shimmer under the beaming light that shone in from the window. 

it was a highly modest dress from the side but from where rafe was, it gave him just a sneak peek into paradise, your breasts being pressed up by the cinched corset at the waist. in the span of two days, he had already become obsessed with you. he wanted to know everything about you, contrasting how he had never cared enough to get to know anyone before. he wanted to look at your pretty face all the time, he wanted to touch your pretty body in ways that would confirm him as yours. and he would the second this ceremony came to a close.

your intestines felt as if they were knotted into tight strings as rafe eyed you, the priest’s ongoing proclamations turning to nothing but white noise. until he uttered the words that you had been dreading.

“...you may now kiss the bride.”

your blood ran cold. in a blink of an eye, rafe scooped you into his arms, his hands grabbing onto your ass as he wore your legs as a belt around his waist and kissed you hungrily on the lips. your shock was bone-chilling, but it seemed to disperse into nothing as you let your eyes flutter shut, accepting his greedy tongue into your mouth.

what the hell were you doing? accepting this absurdity in stride. he had kidnapped you for fuck’s sake. hurt you in ways you didn’t think were possible. the handsome devil did it all without a shred of remorse in those oceanic eyes. you didn’t know how a man could be so blatantly malevolent, but you couldn’t deny the euphoria you felt after he dubbed you “his woman” for the first time. 

you wrapped your arms around his neck, your dark eyelashes fluttering against his pale cheeks as he deepened the kiss significantly. he was so desperate to taste you, like a starved dog that had been deprived for years. he forced your mouth open with his tongue, your teeth clicking together as your tongues fought a silent battle. no one else existed right then. just you, and the man you were now bound to for eternity.

he kissed you like you were the woman he had been searching for all his life. like you were the real-life manifestation of his life-long desires. it was so incredibly lewd. the way his teeth tugged at your bottom lip, the way his hands dug into the plush flesh of your ass, nearly tearing your dress. he detached his lips from yours, your swollen mouth panting for air as he trailed a sloppy string of kisses down your neck, leaving a red stream of your smudged lipstick in its path.

the embrace was interrupted by the priest gently clearing his throat, your public display being far form appropriate. rafe held on to you for a second too long, as if daring you to walk away after he’s put you down. he’s got you hooked, and he damn well knows it. you had let him have you for an intense 30 seconds, but you wanted more. damn it all to hell, you found the last bits of your animosity numbing into nothing. you wanted to give yourself to him completely, to give him what he had been waiting for. and now, you finally could.

“i pronounce you, husband and wife.”

rafe basked in the sound of the applause that rang through the church. he was despicable and he damn well knew it, but it couldn't possibly have been a bad thing if he had executed such a plan so flawlessly. he glanced down at your face, the sight causing a sizzle of something to simmer below the belt. "...my woman." rafe drawled low enough to only be heard by you, his hand locked with yours as your expression began to shift. gone was the apprehension you had been feeling all along.

rafe thought he was bad, but he didn’t have the slightest idea what he was getting into with you.

“Come sleep here”

She repeated, softer now, barely lifting her head, one hand fumbling to pull back the covers on the empty side of the bed as an opening for him. He hesitated as he started, his voice caught somewhere between surprise and caution.

“I don’t think that’s—”

“Just shut up and get in the bed, Rafe.”

She interrupted, voice even more slurred now as she tugged the blanket open fully. He blinked in the dark, stunned for a beat. Then he pushed himself up, rubbing a hand over his jaw before quietly walking around the bed. Her figure was already snuggled deep into the pillow again, one arm loosely curled near her face. She looked half-asleep already, her breathing soft and even. He slipped under the covers carefully, lying on his back and letting out a quiet sigh as the mattress dipped beneath his weight and god, it felt better already.

“This okay?”

He asked after a moment, voice low, referring to the space- or lack of it- between them. A hum answered him. Barely audible, but it was there. A gentle little noise of sleepy contentment into the pillow she was nuzzled into. Rafe let his head fall back against the pillow, one arm folded behind it as he stared at the dark ceiling. His chest still rose and fell a little quicker than it should’ve. He was about to say something- some nervous offer to move if she wanted more space- when he felt her hand. It slid across the sheets and settled on his chest. Light. Barely there. But it made him freeze. She mumbled, her palm resting over his heartbeat.

“Sleep”

He swallowed thickly, his eyes finding her face in the dark. Her lashes fluttered once more, but her breathing was slowing again. She was already halfway back to sleep. So he didn’t say anything else, he didn’t move. Just turned his head to the side and watched her for a moment longer, then he closed his eyes.

And for the first time that night, sleep came easy.

The morning crept in slow and quiet. No loud city noises, still just the low hum of the air conditioning still rattling in the corner, making the room just a little too cold. Pale light filtered through the thin hotel curtains, casting a soft, diffused glow across the room dust particles floating. Rafe stirred first. His brow twitched, and his lashes lifted, blinking against the muted light. It took him a moment, just a breath or two, to come to, his mind still thick with sleep. But then he felt it- the weight against his chest.

Warm.

Soft.

Steady.

He glanced down slowly.

Y/N was curled up against him, her face buried into the side of his chest, her arm tucked between their bodies. His own arm was looped around her waist, holding her close like it had settled there all on its own in the middle of the night. His palm rested on the small of her back, fingers curved into the fabric of her shirt. She was pressed against him like she belonged there, like she had always belonged there.

She looked peaceful.  

More peaceful than he’d ever seen her. Her lashes rested like delicate little fans against her cheeks, her lips parted just slightly, the soft dip of her cupid’s bow catching the light. He followed the slope of her nose, the arch of her brow, every detail etched in his memory now so he’d never forget it again.

He didn’t move, didn’t dare break the tranquillity.

His throat worked around something thick and warm he couldn’t quite name, something blooming deeply in his chest. She stirred gently in her sleep, and he immediately, lifted his arm from around her- giving her space. She moved, still in a sleep-hazed daze, she rolled away, her body turning to face the window. The blanket shifted with her, pulling across her tatted shoulder as she settled again, her breathing slow and even. Rafe let out a quiet breath. Pressed his hand to his chest for a second.  

His heart was racing and he shook his head gently, as if to clear it, and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Running a hand over his face, he stood, stretching out the kink in his neck. No matter how soft the mattress or where he was, he hadn’t slept like that in years, like his body finally let go of every guard it had ever held. He padded quietly toward the bathroom, sparing one last glance over his shoulder at her sleeping form. They needed to catch the ferry in two hours.

And he didn’t trust himself to lay back down beside her.

Rafe was already dressed, shoes on, bag zipped halfway, the bare skin of his chest still a little damp from the quick shower he’d taken to shake off the strange restlessness from waking up with her in his arms. The room was slightly brighter now, pale light leaking through the curtains, the light catching dust particles in the air. He looked at the clock, they had less than forty-five minutes. “Y/N,” he called out, dragging his shirt over his head as he turned back toward the bed.

“C’mon, you gotta get up. We’ve gotta get going.”

No movement.

She didn’t even stir and he blinked in confusion. That was…odd. On the morning they'd got here, she was up before the sun. First one in the shower, already dressed and ready to go down before he even rubbed the sleep from his eyes. But now she was buried under the sheets, curled on her side, her face tucked into the pillow like the world outside the bed didn’t exist. A faint crease pulled between his brows as he glanced around- and then his eyes landed on her bag near the corner of the room. Just beside it, something white stuck out from underneath a hoodie tossed aside. He moved closer and notices it was a leaflet. He crouched, picking it up.

"After Your Abortion: What to Expect."

His heart knocked hard against his ribs. Right. His eyes skimmed the printed bullet points, each one sinking in a little deeper than the last:

Light to heavy bleeding

Cramping 

Nausea 

Fatigue

That’d explain why she was still out cold. Why she hadn’t moved a muscle since he’d woken up. She wasn’t just tired- she was probably hurting, still recovering. He set the leaflet back down exactly how he’d found it and crossed back toward the bed. His steps were slow now, careful and she was still facing away from him, her breathing soft and steady. He crouched down at her side, arms resting lightly on his knees. His voice dropped low, gentle. “Maybank,” he said, nudging her shoulder lightly with the back of his hand.

“You gotta get up, yeah?”

She hummed in response, face still half-buried in the pillow, her voice muffled and sleepy. He sighed through his nose, fingers reaching out without thinking, brushing up and down her arm in a slow, comforting rhythm. “Y/N,” he tried again, softer now.

“C’mon. Wake up baby.”

The word just… slipped out and the moment it left his mouth, his whole body stilled.

Baby?  

His hand dropped from her arm, and he pulled back like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t. His chest tightened as his mind scrambled for footing- he didn’t mean to say that or maybe he did...? He didn’t even know anymore. But then her voice, hazy and warm, cracked through the fog in his head.

“M’tired”

She mumbled, not even questioning the slip. Just too far gone in the exhaustion, her body stretched out a little more as she yawned and stretched, her limbs slow and heavy with sleep. “I know you are,” he said, voice rough as he cleared his throat.

“But we’re gonna miss the ferry.”

She made a soft sound, halfway between annoyance and reluctant agreement, then sluggishly pushed herself up from the bed and shuffled toward the bathroom without looking at him. The door clicked shut behind her and Rafe stood there, unmoving.

Staring at the door.  

He dragged his hands down his face, drawing in a sharp breath through his nose as he grabbed his t-shirt pulling it on in disjointedly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The ferry rocked gently beneath them, the soft groan of metal and water lulling the world into a rhythm that felt… at peace, for once. Y/N sat outside again, perched on a weather-worn bench near the same table they had taken on the way there, the sea stretching endlessly in front of them. The breeze swept her hair gently back, warm and salty, brushing against her cheeks like fingers smoothing down her skin. For the first time in a long while, she felt light. Not exactly happy, not exactly sad—just still.

Her eyes fluttered shut as she tilted her face toward the sun, soaking in the warmth, the breeze, the faint call of distant seagulls. It didn’t fix everything, but it made breathing a little easier. Footsteps approached, slow and steady on the deck, and she opened her eyes just as Rafe came into view—tall, quiet, familiar now in a way that startled her. He held out a paper cup toward her.

“Got you that tea you like”

He said casually, the sleeve still wrapped around it from the vendor inside the ferry. Her eyes blinked down at it, then back at him. She spoke, voice soft with surprise.

“Oh. Um—thank you"

A small, grateful smile pulled at her lips as she took it from his hand. She didn’t even know he’d noticed she liked this kind. He offered a small smile of his own in return- quiet and a little lopsided- and then sat beside her, shoulders brushing. Neither of them moved away this time though. It didn’t feel tense anymore.

In fact, it felt kind of comforting.

Rafe glanced out at the water, then up toward the sky. “It’s a nice day,” he said, voice low and casual.

She nodded, blowing gently into her cup. “Yeah it is”

He hesitated for a second, “You going to the country club today?”

“No,” she said, hands playing with the sleeve around the cup “I… I took a few days off. Told my manager I was sick. Sofia’s covering for me.” He nodded, lips pressed together like he was thinking about something else entirely. And then, after a beat, he cleared his throat.

“So… are you gonna go back to the club?”

She didn’t answer right away. There was a pause- thin and quiet- where she could feel him watching her from the corner of his eye. “I mean…” she started, her voice a little unsure of what to say to him.

“Yeah... yeah I am.”

He looked over, just slightly, licking his lips before pressing them into a thin line. His voice was softer when he asked,

“When are you going?”

“Why?”

Her brows drew together, eyes narrowing faintly as she glanced over him. “No reason,” he said with a quick shrug, eyes darting back out to the water.

“Just… curious.”

She held his gaze for a second longer, trying to figure it out. The look in his eye wasn’t leering or expectant, but she still didn’t get it. Her mind did the easiest thing- assumed the worst- and a scoff slipped out.

“If you’re waiting for me to get naked and put on a show—”

“-that’s not why I’m asking”

He cut in, eyes snapping back to hers, jaw ticking. His voice wasn’t loud, but it was sharp. She blinked, caught off guard by how quick the bite was in his tone, a little taken aback by his sudden defensiveness. “Oh.” Her voice was smaller now.

“Well… then, yeah. I think I’ll go tonight.”

He nodded once, slowly and the silence settled again between them- not uncomfortable, but weighty in its own way- and neither of them said anything else for a while. The ferry groaned softly as it docked, metal clanking and chains clattering into place. The sky was just beginning to shift into early gold, that hazy pre-dawn light spilling faintly over the sleepy port. The place was near-empty, quiet and still in the way only 6 a.m. could manage. Their footsteps echoed as they made their way down the steel stairs, the sound of soles against metal echoing.

They stopped at the end of the port, just before the parking lot split into two directions, they both slowed to a stop. Her car was parked on the far left- and his was on the opposite side. She adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder, fingers gripping at the material like it might anchor her. She looked up at him, eyes catching in the hush of morning, and that’s when it hit her—harder than she expected... she didn’t want to leave.  

Didn’t want to watch him walk away.  

Didn’t want whatever they’d been in that hotel room to end. Rafe gave her a soft smile, barely there but real. His voice was quiet when he said,

“See you ‘round, Bunny.”

The nickname made her smile, even as her heart twisted a little. He turned, heading toward his car, that familiar saunter in his step, but before he got more than a few strides away she called out,

“Rafe. Wait—I…”

He paused, turning back to face her, brows lifted slightly in curiosity. She looked up at him after taking those few steps after him, lips parted, something vulnerable flickering in her gaze.

“Thank you,”

She said softly and he gave a slight shake of his head, brushing it off like he always did.

“Don’t. It’s nothing.”

But before he could say more, she was stepping closer. Up on her tiptoes, her hand brushing lightly against his arm for balance, she leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. Just the lightest whisper of a touch- but it stopped him cold. She’d let him see her body onstage practically bare. He’d kissed her neck in the dark, his hands roaming her body. But this? This felt different.

Intimate

When she pulled back, her eyes held his for a second longer, and then she gave him a soft, almost shy smile.

“See you ‘round, Cameron.”

Then she turned, walking toward her car, her heart pounding in her chest, echoing in her ears, but she didn’t look back. Rafe stood completely still, his bag in hand, the early morning breeze brushing against his jacket. The spot on his cheek where she kissed him burned warm. Lingering. He watched her until the door of her car closed behind her.

And only then did he breathe.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sun had dipped fully below the horizon by the time Y/N turned off the main road and into the familiar cracked parking lot of the club. The neon sign buzzed faintly in the distance, casting its sickly pink glow against the darkening sky. She exhaled slowly, fingers tightening around the steering wheel as her headlights lit up the building she knew far too well. The same one she’d walked into a hundred times before- confident, steady, unbothered.

But tonight?

Tonight, her palms were clammy against the wheel, and her heart was thudding just a little too loud. She rolled into her usual parking spot near the back, out of sight from the main entrance like always. The car idled in place, engine humming beneath her. Her hands hovered over the keys- but she didn’t twist them.

Couldn’t.

Because the last time she was here, things went... sideways. The kind of sideways that still woke her up in the middle of the night. The kind that made her fingers tremble now, just thinking about stepping inside. Her eyes flicked toward the entrance, where a few regulars were hanging around, smoking. She swallowed hard and shifted the car into reverse. The tires crunched softly over gravel as she backed out of her usual spot and drove forward instead, pulling into a spot much closer to the entrance. The headlights swept across the front doors before she finally threw it into park and killed the engine.

Still, she didn’t move, not for a full ten seconds.

Then, slowly, she pushed the door open and stepped out, the cool night air brushing against her bare legs. Her shoes hit the ground with a soft thud, and she gave herself one small moment, a breath of stillness, before she pushed the club doors open with both hands and stepped back inside. The music inside the club was already pulsing low through the walls- soft thuds of bass that seemed to vibrate right under her skin. As Y/N walked deeper into the dim, haze-filled space, the familiar scent of sweet perfume and cologne wrapped around her like muscle memory. Her shoess tapped lightly against the worn floors as she made her way toward the dressing rooms, weaving through the narrow back hallway, then she heard it.

"Y/N!"

She blinked, turning just in time to see Tommy stepping out from the side office, his brow lifting and his grin stretching wide as soon as he saw her. That signature silver chain glinted against his dark shirt, and his arms opened a little like he was about to greet an old friend.

“Where the hell you been?”

His voice wasn’t sharp- not accusing- just warm and familiar. She smiled, a little sheepishly, shifting the strap of her bag on her shoulder. “Had some medical stuff,” she said, tone light but honest.

“Had to take care of it.”

“Shit. You okay now?”

Tommy’s face softened immediately, the grin dropping into something more concerned. “Yeah,” she nodded.

“It’s sorted.”

“Good,” he said, his voice sounding almost relieved. “That’s good. It’s been pretty damn quiet without you around here. Missed my favorite dancer.”

He flashed her that crooked, charming grin that had probably saved him from getting smacked more times than he deserved and she rolled her eyes, laughing as she passed him, her steps picking up again. She teased over her shoulder.

“Missed this shithole too”

“Oi!” Tommy called after her, mock offended, “watch it smart mouth- I'm still your boss”

Her laughter echoed softly as she pushed through the door into the dressing room, the familiar smell of setting spray and fruity flavoured vape hitting her all at once. The lights over the vanities buzzed softly, casting a warm glow over the few girls already inside. A couple heads turned as the door clicked shut behind her.

"Hey!"  

“Missed you, girl.”  

“Where you been hiding?”

Y/N smiled softly, offering a few waves as she moved to her usual spot in the corner and responding to the girls who seemed curious of her absence, setting her bag down with a small exhale. She unzipped it and started pulling her things out. Clothes, makeup, hair ties—and finally, her heels. She hesitated before slipping them on, the familiar weight of them feeling foreign now, like her feet had forgotten how to carry herself in them. She flexed her toes, adjusting the straps. Weird. But not unwelcome. The door behind her swung open.

Click. Click. Click.

The sound of heels halted and then-

“Well, I fuckin’ neva.”

Y/N’s head snapped up, already grinning before she even saw who it was. Bambi. There she stood in the doorway, hand on her hip, lips pursed, an eyebrow high enough to kiss her hairline.

“Hey Omi”

Y/N said softly dragging out her nickname for the girl, smile slipping wider. Naomi stalked forward, shaking a finger in her face.

“Don’t 'hey Omi' me you little bitch.”

The girl scolded mocking Y/N's voice and Y/N burst into a laugh, covering her mouth to try and muffle it, but Naomi wasn’t having it looking the girl dead in the eyes. “Don’t you dare laugh at me,” Naomi warned, pointing now, her heels clacking with every step she took toward her.

“Three weeks! No text. No call. No FaceTime. No signs of life- you made me feel like a desperate ex Y/N!”

“I’m sorry!”

Y/N managed, laughter still in her voice. Naomi crossed her arms, eyes narrowed as she looked the girl up and down kissing her teeth.

“Yeah, well, sorry ain’t gonna cut it this time.”

She was right in front of her now, scowling, but Y/N could see through it- the softness behind the irritation, the way her friend’s jaw clenched not out of anger, but worry. She knew Naomi. This was just how she showed she cared. “I’m sorry I didn’t text, or call, or show up here...” Y/N said, her voice more sincere now.

“I was just… I had some medical problems I had to deal with okay?.”

“Medical problems?”

The girl raised a brow skeptically, arms folding tighter across her chest and Y/N nodded. “Yeah.” A beat passed between them and then Naomi scoffed and rolled her eyes.

“So what- your boy toy gave you chlamydia or something?”

“NAOMI! Ew, no!”

Naomi broke first, bursting into laughter, and Y/N followed a second later, the tension melting into something warm and familiar and she couldn't help but think about how much she’d missed this.

“I’ve missed you,”

Naomi said, shaking her head with a grin as though she'd read Y/N's mind. Y/N smiled in return nodding her head in agreement.

“Missed you too.” she said and then playfully added, “So… am I forgiven?” Naomi looked her up and down with narrowed eyes, chin tilting like she was really thinking it over. Then she huffed, loud and dramatic.

“Ugh. Fine. Come give mama some sugar.”

Y/N stepped into her arms and wrapped her up in a hug, her arms around the girl like she didn’t want to let go. It was a sweet little reunion, one she didn’t even know how much she needed until now.

The rest of the night hummed with that familiar low thrum of music, muffled bass and the sticky-sweet scent of spilled drinks and perfume lingering in the air. It’s like slipping into an old version of herself- heels clicking across the floor, lips glossed, hair set just right. Bunny walked out like she never left, and the regulars?

They notice.

They smiled wider and would reach for her hand to. tip bigger. It was subtle at first, but the message is clear: They missed her. And the way their eyes light up when she leans in, when she twirls just right over the night- she knows how to make them look, how to make them stay. However her eyes keep drifting back to that one booth. The one in the far corner with the leather booth and small stage. The booth Rafe and Barry always occupied like clockwork—always lounging back like they owned the damn place- was empty tonight.

And it feels wrong.

She keeps looking, expecting him to materialise out of the haze and lights. But it stays vacant. And even though she knows it’s better that way—less complicated, less intense- …she misses him.

She misses him?

The night blurs forward in glitter and low voices and clinking glasses. And she manages. She smiles. She dances and flirts. She pockets her tips and slips back into the rhythm like she never left but still— that booth stays empty. No matter how many bills she tucks into her garter, no matter how many grins are tossed her way—

She keeps thinking about him.

At the end of the night she says her goodbye, placing her earnings into her duffle bag and making her way to the exit- not before earning a pat to the ass from Naomi. Yet Y/N pauses at the door, her hand on the handle, but she doesn’t push it open right away. She looks out through the door, the parking lot is dimly lit, the flickering overhead lights casting long shadows across the asphalt.

Her heart is already racing.  

Same time.

Same place.

Same heavy quiet.  

And even though she’s told herself over and over again that it was a one-time thing- the memory is there, a phantom pressing on her lungs. Her fingers tighten around her bag strap. She closes her eyes for a beat, then pushes the door open. The air outside is cooler than she remembers. It brushes against her bare arms, raising goosebumps, and carries the faintest trace of smoke and saltwater. For a moment, she just stands there. Her eyes scan the lot, out of instinct more than anything else.

Empty mostly.

Until—

A shape.

Someone leaning against the hood of her car, arms folded, head dipped. Her body goes cold before her brain can catch up, heart climbing up her throat. But then her eyes adjust.

And it’s him.

He’s got one foot propped against her bumper, the toe of his shoe tapping absently against the metal. The glow from the streetlight hits the sharp edge of his jaw and the curve of his mouth, lit up like something from a movie.

“Rafe?”

She calls, her voice soft but sharp at the edges, like it might crack. He lifts his head slowly, eyes finding hers across the empty lot.

“Bunny”

He says in that low, drawling way- like he’s been expecting her. Her feet start moving, cautious but steady, shoes tapping lightly against the pavement as she asks confused.

“What’re you doing here?”

Rafe gives her a lazy shrug, like it’s nothing. Like he hasn’t been standing out here for a while- like the tips of his fingers hadn't started to get cold.

“Was just passing by...”

She raises an eyebrow, unconvinced. A smirk tugs at her lips despite herself, “Right. And you just so happened to spot my car and sit yourself down by it?”

His eyes roll at her tone, but there’s no bite behind it. It’s playful,“Well- actually- I told Tommy to let me know when you clocked out.”

That makes her stop, right there on the pavement. Her expression shifts- brows pulling slightly together, head tilting like she’s not sure she heard him right, he asked Tommy when she clocked out?

“You what?”

Rafe shifts his weight, looking momentarily uncertain. His gaze flickers to the side towards the entrance of the club and then back to her.

“I just… wanted to make sure you got to your car safe”

He says, voice quiet. Honest. There’s no swagger in his tone, no teasing smirk. Just something genuine. And somehow, it hits harder than anything else he’s ever said to her, causing her to fall silent. Just standing there, staring at him. Because this means he remembers- everything she'd said to him. She hadn’t thought he would... The last time she left this place alone, she hadn’t made it to her car and now here he was, waiting for her, she swallows hard. She speaks softly, eyes fixed on his

“You didn’t have to do that”

“I know,” he replies, “but I wanted to.”

And something about the way he says it- like it’s not even a question in his mind- makes her chest tighten. The space between them is quiet again. But it’s a different kind of quiet, safer. She exhales, the tension slowly bleeding from her shoulders.

“Thanks”

Y/N murmurs, and this time she means it. She pops open the back door of her car and tosses her duffel onto the seat with a dull thud. Her shoulders rise and fall with a small exhale, her fingers brushing stray hair off her face as she glances over at Rafe still leaned against the hood.

“You, uh… you heading back home or…?”

She asks, voice soft, trying to sound casual even though there’s a weird flutter in her chest. He pushes off the hood slightly, shifting his stance. “Yeah,” he says with a nod. “I probably will.” There’s a quiet beat. Just the soft buzz of a streetlamp overhead and the distant hum of a late-night highway somewhere in the dark.

“I didn’t see you in the club...” she adds, eyes flicking up to meet his. “-or Barry.” She adds on quickly and Rafe nods once, hands in his pockets now as he faces her.  

“Yeah, we’re working with a new supplier. Need to check his stock before we start pushing anything in the area.”

“Right.”

She nods slowly but her voice sounds distant, distracted. It’s not like she wants him dealing- but still... her eyes had searched that booth all night without her meaning to. It was empty, and she hated that she missed his presence there. Rafe glances past her toward the duffel bag slumped in the back seat, then looks back down at her.

“Good night?”

He asks and Y/N huffs a breath that’s sort of a laugh and sort of not.  “Uh- yeah I guess” she says, a small shrug of her shoulder. “It was good. Could’ve been better though.” Her eyes meet his as she says it and they both know what she means.  

It would’ve been better… if he’d been there.

She turns, opens the driver’s side door, and slides into the seat. Her legs are still hanging out, feet planted on the ground, like she’s not quite ready to go just yet. Rafe shifts closer, resting one hand lightly on the roof above her and his gaze drops down to her. “You alright?” he asks, his voice low, edged with concern.

“How’re you feeling?”

She blinks up at him and offers a tired smile, “I’m okay. Just tired. Think I’m gonna head back.”

Rafe nods slowly,“right- yeah sure.” He takes his hand off of the top of her car and folds his arms over his chest. She watches his hand retreat and slips the key into the ignition twisting it.

Nothing.

Her brows furrow as she twists it again. But still nothing. The engine doesn’t even try to turn over, the car just sits there in silence. A frown settles on her lips. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she mutters under her breath, frustration curling in her chest. She tries once more- this time with a little more force, like that’ll make a difference- but the car stays quiet, cold and dead. Her shoulders sink, and she lets out a tired groan, her forehead coming down to rest against the steering wheel. Outside, Rafe’s still watching, expression unreadable, but he straightens up a little.

“You want me to take a look?”

He offers, voice calm. She exhales slowly and looks over at him through her lashes, nodding with a tired smile.

“um… yeah, I’d appreciate that.”

Rafe props the hood of her car up, the metal creaking slightly in the quiet of the night. Y/N stays where she is, head leaning back against the seats head rest now, the faint throb of exhaustion crawling up her spine. She watches him through the open window as he fiddles with something under the hood- focused, frowning, the glow from the parking lot light casting a sharp edge to his jaw. A minute passes, then two and she shifts slightly, calling out,

“Uh… so what is it?”

Rafe straightens up, wiping his hands along his jeans as he leans over to look at her through the open door saying, “Battery’s dead... or dying. It’s not charging properly- so it’s not gonna start tonight.”

“Fucking hell”

She lets out a groan, dragging her hands down her face with a muttered, before leaning back again with a soft thud into the headrest. Her eyes flutter shut for a second. She’s not sure if it’s from frustration or the heaviness behind her eyes, but when she opens them again, Rafe is standing by the door now, wiping his palms on his pants, giving her that look- half amused, half sympathetic. “You know,” he says, voice lighter than she expects,

“I could give you a ride... If you want?”

Y/N blinks up at him, then glances past him- eyes landing on the black Range Rover parked just a few feet away. It gleams beneath the streetlight like something too expensive for a parking lot this grimy then she flicks her gaze back to him.

“I was gonna stop to get food,” she mumbles, almost like she’s testing the waters. “And I know it’s kind of late, so you probably won’t wan—”

“-It’s fine”

He cuts in easily with that low, calm tone of his., “I’ll drive you it's not a big deal.” He pauses, tipping his head slightly.

“What do you want?”

She squints at him and his generous offer before a tired grin starts twitching at the corners of her lips,

“Benny’s?”

“…What?”

His brows furrow, confused, “The hell is Benny’s?”

“You know,” she says, sitting up a little straighter, “the little burger drive-thru place near the bridge? It’s cheap but milkshakes are like the best on the whole island”

“Is this a Pogue thing?”

Her eyes narrow instantly before she rolls them taking her keys out of the ignition and pushing herself out of her seat, the door shutting behind her.

“You know what? I think I’ll just walk.”

He lets out a laugh, low and quiet, shaking his head at her attitude, “Alright, alright, relax,” he mutters, and he's already moving, beating her to the backseat and pulling out her duffel bag which he slings over his shoulder like it’s weightless, casually shutting her car door and locking it behind him.

“C’mon- no need to be so sensitive, bunny.”

He teases, walking toward his car like there’s no room for argument. He glances back over his shoulder when she doesn’t move still standing by her car.

“You coming or what?”

Y/N sighs, biting her lower lip to hide the smile tugging at it, before looking her car and shoving the car keys into her pocket starting towards him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She leaned forward slightly, peering into the small window at the drive-thru, “Can I get a double cheese with fries and a vanilla milkshake, please?” she asked, her voice a mix of hunger and exhaustion from the long night. She looked over at Rafe, eyebrows raised.

“What’re you having?”

He muttered something under his breath and she squinted her eyes clearly not understanding which prompted him to speak again,“I ain’t having anything.”

“Rafe,” she said, her voice a little sharper now. “No, you have to have something.”

“Fine.”

He rolled his eyes, exhaling loudly. Then, speaking to the older man at the window, who was waiting for them patiently, he ordered, “I’ll have the same, but with a Coke instead of the milkshake.” The man nodded, punching in the order before giving them the total. Y/N reached for her own bag, opening it up. Rafe watched her with a furrowed brow, watching her rummage around inside pulling out a small brown paper bag.

“What’re you doing?”

“I’m paying”

She stated in a matter of factly tone, her fingers brushing over some of the crumpled bills in the paper bag. Rafe scoffed, shooting her a look before speaking out.

“Don’t be stupid, Maybank.”

Before she could protest Rafe grabbed his wallet from his pocket, pulling out a card and tapping it against the machine, paying without even thinking twice. “Thanks,” he muttered to the man who passed him the receipt, Y/N sat still in her seat now, bills still in her hands as she spoke up,

"I can't believe you jus-"

“Don’t argue with me and put the money away Y/N.”

She opened her mouth but it closed as she defeatedly put the money back into the bag which returned to the duffle in her lap. Meanwhile, the older man in the window was now handing the bags with their food to Rafe who handed them over to her and she took the, from him, the delicious smell of fast food hitting her senses immediately. Her stomach growled in appreciation at the thought of a greasy double cheeseburger and crispy fries.

"Thank you"

She said quietly, meeting his eyes for a brief moment, her voice soft. Rafe just nodded, the corners of his lips twitching slightly as he started the car and pulled out of the lot, the tires humming on the asphalt.  Y/N couldn’t help but sip from her milkshake, the cold, creamy sweetness comforting as they drove in silence for a while. She looked around, still processing the quiet after the busy night at the club. Then, she finally spoke up, breaking the stillness. 

“Where are we going?”

She asked, glancing over at him. Rafe looked over at her with a small grin, a hint of satisfaction in his eyes at the small mystery.

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out, you're a smart girl.”

She wanted to reach over and smack his arm at his idiotic comment, however she couldn't stop the smile from creeping on her face, so instead she turned her head away from him so he wouldn't see it. The sound of the car engine hummed steadily beneath them, and the familiar scenery started to pass by. The soft glow of the streetlights and the cool breeze through the window. And then she saw it, the familiar, empty beach parking lot. The one that always seemed to be the spot where their paths converged, no matter what. Rafe pulled into the a parking space with ease, the sound of the car’s engine winding down as he parked with a view of the distant sand and waves crashing softly under the moonlight. He switched the car off, looking over at her with a raised eyebrow at her expectantly.

“So, are you eating both bags or what?” 

Y/N couldn’t help but grin, her lips curling into a playful smile. “Oh, shut up,” she said, shoving one of the bags toward him.

“It’s all yours Cameron.”

He let out an amused hum, taking the bag from her with a roll of his eyes. The soft, easy banter felt natural between them, and for a moment, it was just the two of them and the calm sounds of the ocean, nothing more. His fingers moved wrapping his burger as he leaned back in his seat, the salt air mixing with the smell of food.

“You’re lucky I’m a nice guy.”

“Yeah, the nicest”

She just shook her head, taking a long sip of her milkshake again. The soft glow of the dashboard illuminated the quiet beach around them, and as they ate, the sound of the waves and the occasional crunch of fries was all that filled the space. Y/N glanced over at Rafe, watching him chew thoughtfully as he finished his bite, and then took a slow sip of his drink. “So...” she started, breaking the silence, her voice casual but with a hint of curiosity.

“What do you think?"

Rafe paused for a second, chewing his food slowly before swallowing. He looked over at her, a slight smirk curling at the corners of his mouth. “Hmm,” he hummed thoughtfully, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.

“Not too bad for a Pogue-owned place.”

Y/N's eyes narrowed playfully at him, and without missing a beat, she shoved his shoulder with her own, making him sway slightly in his seat, “Hey! Watch it Maybank- you’re lucky this food’s good or I’d kick you out and make you walk home.”

She popped another fry into her mouth, her eyes twinkling with amusement as she raised her hands in mock surrender. Rafe chuckled softly, his gaze flicking over to her, the smirk still playing on his lips. Y/N clearly not holding back the smile tugging at her lips teased, “Yeah, yeah.” She leaning back in her seat as she turned to look at him saying,

“you know, for a guy who's the 'Kook King' you sure do like Pogue stuff.”

Rafe’s amusement deepened, his eyes flicking over to the beach for a second before meeting hers again. But then his gaze lingered on her, his playful edge now replaced with something softer, more intense. He wiped his mouth, setting his food down, and casually leaned back in his seat, “Yeah,” he said, his voice a little quieter now,

“s’not the only Pogue thing I like...”

Y/N felt the air shift at his words, something unspoken hanging between them. She looked over at him, her heart skipping a beat before she quickly turned her attention back to her burger, taking a slow final bite to avoid the pull of his stare. She reached for her milkshake taking the lid off and tilting the cup to catch the last bit of the cool, sweet drink. She let it hit her mouth, savouring the flavour as a small drop dribbled down the side of her lip. She didn’t even notice it at first, but the coolness of the drink against her lips felt sharp, and she instinctively reached for a napkin.

But before she could wipe it away, she felt the warmth of his hand beside her. Rafe’s thumb gently brushed across her skin, wiping the drop away. The touch was light, but it lingered longer than it should have, and her breath caught in her throat as she followed the motion of his hand. Her eyes tracked his thumb as he slowly pulled it back to his mouth, his gaze never leaving her face as he licked the sticky sweetness from his skin.

The action slow and deliberate.

Y/N’s lips parted slightly, caught off guard by the intimacy of the gesture. The words she might’ve said caught in her throat, and she couldn’t help but feel the weight of the moment now press in on her. The warmth of his gaze felt different now, charged in a way she wasn’t sure she was ready for- but couldn't quite escape, couldn’t quite help herself from. As Rafe's gaze remained on her, intense and unyielding, her tongue unconsciously came out, sweeping across her lower lip. The movement was small, but it didn’t miss him. Her eyes flickered toward his lips, and she felt a heat rise in her chest. Her breath caught for a moment, her body language shifting, drawn in despite herself. Rafe noticed, of course. His gaze darkened, lips pressing together as if fighting back some kind of tension. He felt the subtle shift in her, the way her body language had changed, he could see it in the way she couldn’t pull her gaze from him, how her breath seemed to slow just the tiniest bit. A flicker of something passed between them, and without a word, he shifted closer, leaning toward her slightly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Y/N…”

He murmured, his voice low and rough, tinged with something raw. She whispered, her voice catching in the air between them, the word a soft invitation.

“Rafe...”

She didn't even realise she had said it until the word left her lips. Quiet. Almost like a plea, or maybe just amplified by the weight of everything they hadn’t said yet to each other. They were inches apart now, so close that Y/N could feel the heat radiating from his body. The air between them was thick with tension, the quiet hum of the car’s heating was the only sound filling the space. Her eyes flickered between his lips and his eyes, the words hanging heavy in the silence.

"We shouldn't"

She whispered, barely audible, her voice thick with uncertainty, her heart pounded in her chest, pulse racing. Rafe’s gaze dropped to her lips for a moment before he spoke, his voice low and hushed, like the slightest noise could break the fragile thread of the moment between them.

"Then we won't"

He replied, his breath warm against her skin, close enough to feel the words vibrate through her chest. She didn’t move, didn’t pull away, and the words hung between them like a delicate dance neither was ready to disrupt. Their proximity felt charged, every second stretched thin, hanging in the air like something that could either fall apart or ignite into something they hadn't fully prepared for. Neither wanted to break it- this moment so fragile, so full of something neither could quite name. The tension between them hung heavy in the air, neither of them daring to make the first move, both waiting for the other to break, until quietest wiper left Y/N's lips,

“Please” 

And Rafe couldn’t hold back anymore.

He shifted just the slightest bit closer, his breath mingling with hers, and then he leaned in, his lips brushing against hers in the softest of touches.

It was like a spark that ignited fire, a flame that had been waiting to burst into something more for months now. Y/N’s breath hitched as the sensation of his lips on hers sent a wave of warmth flooding through her. Her fingers, almost instinctively, went to the back of his head, threading through his hair, pulling him closer. Her other hand found the fabric of his shirt, gripping it between her fingers, feeling the heat of his body through the material.

Rafe’s hand found her jaw, his thumb brushing gently over her skin as he cradled her face, keeping her close, not wanting to pull away. He deepened the kiss, just a little, coaxing her to follow, to melt into him the way he’d been yearning for. Her lips parted ever so slightly and he didn’t hesitate, the kiss growing more urgent, more heated, as though their bodies were finally catching up to what had been blooming between.

Their lips clashed against each other a little messier now , a little more desperate- the kind of desperation that only comes after months of restraint, of pretending nothing was simmering beneath the surface when they both new that was a lie. Y/N shifted breathlessly closer, nearly climbing into his lap as their mouths moved in sync, lips tugging, parting, meeting again with growing intensity. Rafe’s hand moved from her jaw to the back of her neck, holding her steady, holding her close, while her fingers curled tighter in his shirt like she didn’t want to let go.

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

Her phone vibrated insistently from the cupholder, a harsh reminder of the world outside of their little moment. She hesitated, lips still brushing his, her brows pulling together slightly as she started to pull away, glancing toward the source of the sound. But Rafe didn’t let her get far. His hand found her jaw again, gentle but firm, pulling her back toward him. His forehead rested against hers nose bumping into hers, his breath warm as he whispered, low and quiet, 

“Leave it.”

His eyes searched hers, full of heat and something much deeper than simple desire, and in that second- nothing else mattered. She looked back down at the still-buzzing phone, her body torn for a brief moment. And then, just as quickly, she looked back up at him and leaned in, pressing her mouth to his again.

Like choosing him wasn’t even a question.

"What took place? Is everything all right? Before giving your parents a hug, he asks, scanning the room for answers.

"She'll be fine as long as she takes it easy and wears the brace," the doctor reassured him.

The doctor gives you all the information needed, and a couple papers that has additional information incase your neck is feeling odd. The nurse was very empathetic and respectful.

Three weeks with a neck brace on. There's gonna be certain things you'll need assistance for. Other than that, you feel confident to do majority things on your own.

The second you got back home, he hovered like a shadow. He was fluffing your pillows, adjusting your brace, refusing to let you lift so much as a finger.

He tracked your every step, waking up before you to see if you needed anything. He even took your phone from you more than once because he thought scrolling too much was "bad for your neck."

"Rafe, I'm fine," you said one night, placing your hand on his chest as he worried about your brace for the third time in an hour.

He breathed sharply, and his blue eyes softened as he cupped your cheek. "Okay, but what if you weren't? "What if it had been worse?" His voice was low, almost broken, and it made your heart constrict.

You exhaled and relaxed into his touch. But it wasn't. "I'm fine."

Rafe loves you so much. If anything happened to you, he would never be the same after. You understand why he's being like this towards you⎯it's so cute and heart full.

As the days went by after coming home, Rafe was by your side no matter what you were doing. For example, you went to grab a class in the kitchen⎯that you could reach⎯he ran over stopping you, "baby you could hurt yourself."

Another time, Rafe told you he would be making dinner and you can sit on the couch watching one of your favorite shows because he didn't want you hurting your neck or worse case scenario. You did sneak in a couple times to do small things⎯cutting the veggies and fruits⎯after you insisted you were fine.

The sun was beginning to set, Rafe and you were sitting on your back porch at your house on the swing. You had yourself leaning against him with his right arm around you.

"Rafe, I want to thank you for taking care of him for the past few days," you can sense he's smiling, "however, I can handle things on my own as well. I'm a grown woman who can take care of myself."

Taking Rafe's hand in yours, bringing it to your lips, pressing a kiss on his knuckles to give him reassurance.

"First, I'll always be here for you and take care of you when you need me. I've always admired your confidence and knowing your worth," he trails on as he softly speaks, "what I'm trying to say is I've been acting this way is because I could've lost you and it kills me."

His voice chokes up and trembles.

"Rafe, I love you so much and I'm never going anywhere. I love and always loved how you have so much you know my worth to take care of myself. You mean the absolute world to me."

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She blinked, like she wasn’t expecting the question, like she hadn’t even realized she’d been staring for a few seconds too long. She blinked, small but harsh, then followed it by a forced nod,

“Uh, yeah- let’s go.”

Rafe didn’t quite believe her, but he didn’t push. Instead, he reached out, taking the bag from her shoulder without a word and to her own surprise- she let him- watching as he placed it on the opposing shoulder which had his own bag. She followed after him silently as he stepped onto the ferry nearing the empty entrance. The ticket attendant, a tired-looking man in a navy uniform, scanned their tickets. He glanced at the names printed on the peices of paper and read aloud,

“Mr. and Mrs. Walker?”

Y/N furrowed her brows slightly, eyes flicking to the ticket in the man’s hand before turning to Rafe. Before she could say anything, she felt the warm weight of his hand press lightly against the small of her back as he stepped forward smoothly. “Yeah,” Rafe says with an easy grin.

“Me and my wife are just going for a short trip.”

The man barely spared them a glance, nodding as he handed the tickets back, “All good—enjoy your journey.” They stepped past the checkpoint and as soon as they were out of earshot, Y/N whispered,

“Mr. and Mrs...?”

Rafe couldnt surpress the small grin tugging at his lips, eyes ahead as he lead them toward the deck, “I thought you didn’t want to be recognized...” He murmured, voice dripping with amusement.

“Or should I have put your name down as Bunny?”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes as she elbows him, “Shut up, smart ass.”

Rafe just chuckled, pushing open the door to the ferry’s indoor seating, the cool night air following them inside. Yet as he pushed Y/N hesitated for a moment before speaking,

“...Can we sit outside?”

Rafe paused, furrowing his brows as he looked down at her, “Why would you want to do that? It’s dark as hell out there.”

She huffed, crossing her arms, “I’m pregnant Rafe—I get nauseous all the time. At least outside, I’ve got fresh air.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, studying her like he’s trying to figure out if she’s being truthful or just making an excuse so he does what she wants. After a beat, he exhaled through his nose, shaking his head as he muttered, motioning toward the door that leads to the deck.

“Go on then”

Without hesitation, she pushed through it, stepping out into the crisp night air. A breeze rolled over the ferry, cool and salty, and she breathed it in deeply. She didn’t have to turn around to know Rafe was following right behind her- she could hear his heavy steps. She settled into one of the worn seats, putting her bag he'd passed her on the floor next to her before shifting to get comfortable. The air was cool against her skin, the faint hum of the ferry’s engines vibrating beneath her. Rafe sat down next to her, stretching his legs out and leaning back slightly. He watched her from the corner of his eye, and it didn’t take long for her to notice.

“What?”

She asked, her voice carrying a little edge, like she’s too tired to deal with whatever comment he’s about to make. “Nothing,” he says easily, his lips twitching like he’s holding back a smirk.

“What, can I not look at you?”

“No”

She deadpanned, rolling her eyes before shifting her position, bringing her legs up onto the chair. She folded her arms over her knees, her head resting against them. Rafe eyed her again.

“Are you about to throw up or—?”

“No asshole, I’m just tired”

She muttered, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. He scoffed at her harsh tone of voice before speaking up,

“You know, considering I organized this whole thing for you, you’re not very nice are you?”

She shifted her head, now looking at him, but she didn’t say anything. In reality, she knows he’s right. He didn’t have to do any of this for her. Yet, here he is- booking a ferry, making sure no one recognizes them, sitting beside her in the cold night air without a single complaint. She exhaled softly, pressing her lips together.

Maybe he doesn’t deserve the attitude.

She exhaled through her nose the breath rising in a small clous from the chill of the air, gaze dropping to where her fingers play idly with the hem of her sleeve.

"Sorry"

She muttered, barely above the sound of the wind. Rafe didn't say anything right away. He just hummed in acknowledgment, shifting slightly in his seat, like he hadn't really expected her to say it. The ferry rocked gently beneath them, the rhythmic sound of waves slapping against the hull filling the quiet between them. The water stretched out into an endless black abyss, only interrupted by a gleam of moonlight rippling across its surface. The island behind them grew smaller and smaller, its warm, glowing lights fading into the distance, swallowed by the dark. The silence stretched on, the distant hum of the engine the only sound breaking through the quiet between them. "So... " Rafe shifted, his gaze flicking to her profile before he asked

"What did you tell your brother?"

At first, she didn't answer, the question hanging in the air like a weight. Her fingers tightened around the fabric of her sleeve, her gaze still focused on the dark horizon ahead. After a beat, she finally responded, her voice low, almost like she's trying to convince herself as much as him.

"Told him I had a job interview."

Rafe raised an eyebrow in curiosity, "In Charleston... he believed that?"

She hummed softly in response, offering a casual nod as she lets out a quiet breath,

"Yeah."

Her eyes flickered briefly to him, and then she looked away again, the conversation itself being enough to bring on an ache she didn't want to face. She doesn't push the subject further, her gaze falling to the water, watching the faint ripples dance under the boat’s wake. Rafe caught the shift in her demeanour but chose not to say anything. He leaned back slightly, lost in his own thoughts, as the boat cuts through the black sea, the island now nothing more than a faint memory in the distance. His eyes flicked to her, the question sitting heavy on his tongue. The wind whipped through the air around them, but the tension between them felt more heated than the cold.

"Does he know?"

"What?"

"Does JJ know?"

The question seemed simple but his voice softened. Y/N pressed her lips together, her gaze flicking to the dark horizon- looking anywhere but to him. She hesitated before answering, almost like she was trying to convince herself to tell the truth.

"No... he doesn’t."

Rafe blinked, surprise flickering across his features, but he quickly masked it. He nodded, his fingers drumming gently against the table between them. There was something about her answer that he wasn’t expecting.

"...I thought you two were close."

The words hung between them, and Y/N’s shoulders stiffened at the words. She turned toward him, her eyes narrowing, a little defensive. "Look," she started, her voice edged with frustration,

"I don’t go around asking you about your relationship with Sarah or your lack thereof, so why don't you just drop it?"

Rafe’s jaw tightened, and he flinched slightly like he’d been slapped. The air between them shifted and from the way his hand now lay in a fist against the dark coloured table top, she knew she shouldn't have said what she did. He let it linger, only to let out a short, sharp comment-

"Alright, no need for the fuckin’ attitude."

Y/N clenched her own fists, feeling her temper flare at his words. She had no idea why his comment hit her like that- but deep down she knew it was because it sounded awfully similar to what someone else would always say to her- to the words that lingered in the walls of her home.

"God, you know- I just don’t get you Rafe."

Rafe raised an eyebrow, his arms folding across his chest, "Yeah? Well I’m all ears Bunny."

Y/N shook her head, her voice biting now, "One minute, you’re nice. Actually, not a complete asshole. And the next? You're right back to being your self-entitled kook self."

He scoffed, leaning back slightly, but the words stung. He wasn’t used to people talking to him like that- he knew what people whispered when he walked but, but directly to his face... no one said a thing- especially not someone like Y/N. Yet instead of apologizing, he shot back, crossing his arms even tighter.

"So, what do you want from me huh? Actin' like you're such a saint yourself Maybank"

Y/N scoffed right back at him, pulling her legs up under her. "You just—" she paused, running a frustrated hand over her face.

"..I don’t know you- you’re just confusing. I can’t figure you out."

Rafe stared at her for a moment, trying to gauge her. There was a vulnerability in her words, a softness she was trying to hide behind all the frustration she kept targeting him with. He didn’t respond immediately, his gaze lingering on her, reading her better than she realized. Maybe that was part of the issue- they both knew each other a little too well for their own good. Y/N stood up suddenly, brushing the fabric of her jacket down, her movements quick as she stepped away from him. She didn’t look at Rafe as she moved to stand by the railing, her arms resting on the cool metal as she stared out at the dark expanse of water. The sound of the boat's engine and the subtle slap of the waves against the hull filled the air, but the tension between them still hung thick, unspoken.

Rafe stayed seated, watching her from the corner of his eye. She was illuminated softly by the dim lights of the boat, casting a faint glow across her face, her features softened, but there was still a heaviness to her posture. He felt a pang of guilt deep in his chest, something sharp and uncomfortable. He knew he shouldn’t have pressed her like that, but he couldn’t help it.

For some reason, he always assumed she and JJ were the kind of siblings who shared everything, who didn’t keep secrets. The way she’d been so quick to shield her brother from everything, to keep him from knowing about her pregnancy, caught him off guard. He ran a hand over his jaw, a quiet sigh slipping from his lips. His thoughts drifted—unbidden.

To Sarah.

He hadn’t spoken to her in ages their relationship was... complicated, to say the least. But looking at Y/N now, standing at the edge of the boat with her back to him, he couldn’t help but wonder if that was how she and JJ were now- unable to speak about the things that hurt. The night was growing colder as the boat continued its steady path, the rhythmic hum of the engine almost lulling them into a quiet trance. Y/N shifted in her seat which she had returned to, a soft shiver running through her. The chill in the air seemed to settle in her bones, and without thinking, she muttered,

"I’m going inside. I’m cold."

Her voice was low, almost swallowed by the wind. Rafe, not looking up from his phone hummed in acknowledgment, fingers tapping out a message to Barry who was speaking to him about a new 'supplier'. The noise of his fingers tapping against the phone screen echoed faintly between them, but otherwise, there was nothing more to be said. Y/N didn’t wait for him to reply, standing up with the intention of heading inside. She moved with purpose, but as her foot shifted on the deck, the boat suddenly jolted—a subtle shift in direction that caught her off guard. Her body teetered for a split second before she stumbled, her hand shooting out to catch herself against the railing. It was nothing too dangerous, just the motion of the boat, but in the brief moment of imbalance,

Rafe’s instinct kicked in.

He reach out toward her, his hand halfway in the air before he pulled it back, seeing that she’d already steadied herself. His body froze for a second as he watched her, his gaze lingering on the way her posture straightened again.

Y/N, catching the small flicker of movement from him, glanced over at Rafe, her eyes locking with his for just a moment longer than either of them anticipated. It wasn’t a look of gratitude or acknowledgment- just a silent gaze in his direction, a brief pause that hung between them before she quickly looked away. She said nothing, just turned and continued her walk toward the cabin, moving a little faster now. Rafe stood frozen for a beat, his hand still in the air as though unsure whether to reach out after her. He let his hand drop to his side, watching her retreating figure. The silence around them seemed louder now, the distance between them more palpable than before.

After a moment, he exhaled, a soft sigh escaping his lips, and with a brief glance toward the dark waters, he followed her inside.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The soft hum of the taxi filled the air as it moved through the quiet streets of Charleston, the city’s lights casting long shadows on the pavement. The streets, usually busy with the bustle of tourists, were almost empty at this early hour of the morning. The moon hung high in the sky, its light reflecting off the buildings as they passed. Y/N stared out the window, her face illuminated by the passing streetlights. Her eyes weren’t focused on anything in particular- just the empty streets, the quiet that felt too loud between them. She shifted slightly in the backseat, then broke the silence, her voice barely above a whisper, as if she wasn’t sure she wanted to ask the question.

"When’s the... clinic booked for?"

Her gaze didn’t leave the window, but she was still waiting for his answer, the question just another small part of this strange, tense journey. Rafe’s eyes flicked to her for a moment before he glanced out his own window, his fingers drumming idly on the seat beside him.

"Evening"

He said simply, his voice low, he didn’t look back at her after that, the words hanging between them with an unspoken understanding. She nodded softly, her gaze still fixed on the darkness outside, her eyes slightly glazed as she thought about what was ahead. The clock on the taxi’s dashboard blinked a bright 3:13 AM, the streets were empty.

The taxi slows to a stop in front of a hotel, the headlights casting a long, soft shadow across the dark pavement. The building isn’t the most luxurious from the outside, but to Y/N, it’s the fanciest place she’d ever set foot in. As she steps out of the cab, she hesitates for a second, looking up at the hotel’s grand but understated exterior. The soft glow of lights spill from the inside, and the hum of quiet conversations can be heard from within.

Rafe’s already out, paying the driver. Y/N adjusts the small bag slung over her shoulder as she follows him inside, her footsteps echoing as they step through the double glass doors.

The lobby is elegantly designed—modern. There are soft armchairs scattered throughout the space, a sleek chandelier hanging overhead, and the hum of quiet conversations. It feels foreign to her, like she doesn’t belong here. Rafe heads up to the reception desk without a second glance, but Y/N, lost in her thoughts, lingers by the lobby’s wide glass windows, gazing out at the city streets. The street is still, save for a few scattered cars driving by.

Her attention is pulled back into the room when she notices a man sitting in one of the armchairs, talking animatedly on his phone. His voice is low, his hand gesturing as he speaks. Sitting beside him, though, is a woman who looks to be in her early thirties, her hair pulled back in a neat bun, dressed simply but elegantly. Y/N’s eyes are drawn to the curve of her belly. The woman’s hand rests gently there, a soft and loving gesture, cradling the life growing inside her. The man finishes his call and puts the phone down, settling next to her with a smile. His words are muffled, but Y/N can tell by the way he’s looking at her- so tenderly- that he’s saying something reassuring. She presses a kiss to his cheek, the act so natural and intimate, and his hand moves automatically to rest on her belly, as if it’s the most normal thing in the world.

Y/N’s heart tightens as she watches them, her breath catching in her throat. For a moment, the world around her seems to blur as she’s struck with the emptiness that threatens to overwhelm her. She feels a sting of jealousy- sharp and uncomfortable- but it’s not jealousy of them, not really. It’s jealousy of their simplicity. The way they seem to have it all figured out. Rafe returns to her side, his steps sure as he walks toward her. His eyes quickly flick over to where hers are fixed, but he doesn't need to follow her gaze to know what she's looking at. He doesn’t say anything at first- just watches her for a second longer before clearing his throat. The sound is like a small signal to break the tension hanging in the air.

“I’ve got the key card”

He says, his tone neutral, trying to sound casual but his voice sounds more empathetic than he'd like to let on. Y/N doesn’t respond immediately, she only gives a short nod, her mind still caught on the sight of the couple in the lobby. She blinks a few times, pushing down the emotions threatening to flood her again.

“C’mon”

He says again, stepping toward the elevator. It’s easy to just follow his lead, so she falls in line behind him, her footsteps light as she walks into the lift with him. The doors shut with a soft chime, and the silence between them is thick with the unspoken, and neither of them seems willing to break it. Y/N catches a glimpse of Rafe from the corner of her eye. He’s standing a little too still, his jaw tight, but then he shifts slightly, a sudden yawn catching him off guard.

It’s a soft sound.

She watches him for a moment, then quickly looks away, guilt swirling in her stomach. She feels bad. It’s hard to ignore the fact that she’s dragged him off the island for something she hasn’t even fully explained, and it doesn’t help that she’s been distant with him. He doesn’t owe her this, and yet, here he is. He’s sacrificed his time, his peace, to follow through with something she needed.

Something she couldn’t even handle on her own.

Her chest tightens, but she doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t even know how to apologize properly. The doors to the elevator ding, and Y/N shakes herself out of the fog in her head as the doors slide open. She steps out, trailing behind him down the corridor, the low hum of the building’s air conditioning the only sound between them. Her thoughts continue to swirl in a haze, and she follows Rafe wordlessly, her gaze flickering over the brightly lit walls and the muted carpeting underfoot. The beep of the card unlocks the hotel room, the handle clicking softly as Rafe steps forward to push the door open. He enters first, his eyes scanning the room for a moment before pausing just inside the threshold. He’s holding the door open, his back to her, but he doesn’t move forward immediately. Y/N stays a step behind, and she tilts her head slightly, a mix of curiosity and hesitation in her posture.

“What?”

She asks quietly, her voice sounding smaller than she intends. She doesn’t know why she’s asking. Maybe it’s just the lingering unease she feels with the way he's paused, or maybe it’s just the awkwardness of being here with him.

Alone.

In a hotel room.

Rafe doesn’t answer right away. Instead, his eyes flick to her, briefly meeting her gaze, then turning to the room as if weighing how to explain this. Y/N, now more aware of the pause, steps forward and brushes past him to peer into the room, her eyes scanning the space. The moment her gaze lands on the large, neatly made bed in the center of the room, her stomach drops. She takes a slow step back, blinking.

One bed.

Of course.

Her mouth opens as she exhales a soft, surprised “Oh,” almost as if she’s disappointed in herself for not anticipating this. The reality of the situation sinks in quickly, the silent weight of the choice she’s facing now becoming apparent. She glances back at Rafe, her eyes narrowing slightly. He stands frozen for a second, looking at the bed, then at her and his expression shifts into something more neutral—calm, but there’s a flicker of something else beneath. His gaze lingers on her for a second too long, the tension thick in the air between them. Rafe, standing just behind her now, clears his throat and shrugs.

“There was meant to be two singles...”

His voice is more earnest than she expects, but the tension is still thick. His gaze flickers to the bed and back to her.

“Guess they messed up with the booking.”

“Right”

She mutters and rolls her eyes, feeling that old frustration bubbling up again. She hears him shift behind her, and the tone of his voice softens slightly.

“No, seriously, I booked two beds Y/N.” he pauses, then sighs. “They messed up. Besides... not like I’m used to dealing with rooms for more than one.”

His voice is quieter now, maybe even a little... sheepish?

Y/N’s shoulders stiffen, and she tries not to think too much about it. She shouldn’t be frustrated, not really. He did try. It wasn’t his fault, but- she just nods, not trusting herself to speak, her eyes still locked on the bed as the weight of the situation settles in. It feels too personal, too uncomfortable, but she forces herself to exhale and shake it off. She half-turns to face him, her voice a little sharper than she intends.

“Great... so, what now?”

Y/N takes a few steps further into the room, her eyes scanning the rest of the space. It’s huge, definitely bigger than anything she’s used to, with a bathroom off to the side that looks like it could fit a small army. She almost feels out of place in the luxury of it all. Her fingers brush the smooth edge of the desk, the furniture pristine, and she can’t help but feel a little self-conscious. As she moves toward the far side of the room, her gaze lands on the couch. It’s medium-sized, tucked neatly against the wall near the bed. Her eyes linger there for a moment. She hears Rafe step closer behind her, his heavy footsteps echoing slightly in the quiet room. He follows her gaze, then looks back at her.

“I’ll sleep on the couch”

He says, and Y/N pauses, slightly skeptical. She turns to face him, a little incredulous.

“What?”

Rafe’s hand rubs the back of his neck, his posture a little stiff. “I mean, it’s fine... you’re pregnant and I’d rather not—” He cuts himself off, realizing that the sentence sounds ridiculous.

“I’ll take the couch.”

She doesn’t want to seem ungrateful, but she can’t help but bristle at the idea. “It’s fine,” she starts, shrugging it off, “I can take the couch.”

Rafe’s expression tightens, his eyes narrowing slightly in disbelief. “No. You’re not sleeping on the couch.” His tone is firm but not unkind.

“We’re not doing that.”

Y/N opens her mouth to protest, but then she catches the look in his eyes. Something about the way he’s saying it, the way he stands there, not pushing but still resolute. She presses her lips together, swallowing her own stubbornness.

“Fine”

She mutters, walking toward the bed and sitting down on the edge. He gives her a half-smile, nodding. He pauses for a second, his gaze flickering over her, before he heads over to the couch, testing the cushions.

“I'm sorry abou-”

"-It's fine Rafe."

She shoots him a side-eye, still a little uneasy but also strangely grateful that he’s not making her sleep in the same bed. The night passed in an odd kind of quiet. Y/N had turned away from the sofa, curling into herself under the blanket, her back to Rafe. He, on the other hand, lay awake for a while, his eyes tracing the outline of her figure in the dim light, the soft rise and fall of her breathing making him feel strangely protective- though he wouldn’t admit it. Eventually, sleep claimed them both, though neither one of them seemed to rest all that peacefully.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Morning came slowly, the bright sunlight spilling through the blinds, casting a soft glow across the room. Y/N woke first, rubbing her eyes before slipping out of bed quietly, trying not to disturb Rafe. He was still asleep on the couch, his body turned slightly, his arm thrown across his forehead. She grabbed a quick shower, dressed in the clothes she’d brought, and then made her way downstairs as he stirred from his sleep.

The small café downstairs was cozy, a little more upscale than the usual diner, but not so fancy it felt out of place. She and Rafe sat down at a table near the window. Y/N absently pushed her pancake around on the plate, the syrup drizzling down the soft stack of pancakes in front of her. Rafe had ordered eggs, bacon, and toast, and his plate was practically a mountain compared to her much smaller serving. Rafe looked at her plate,

“There was so much on that menu, and you got pancakes?”

Y/N shot him a small glare, her fork poking at her pancakes. “You’re one to talk. Look at your own plate.”

She rolled her eyes, the usual defiance in her tone. Rafe couldn’t help the small, amused grin that tugged at his lips. It was impossible to not appreciate her sass, even if it was often sharp-edged. He shook his head, stabbing into his food. They ate in silence for a few moments, the air between them comfortable. Y/N pushed a cut pancake around her plate, her mind clearly elsewhere.

“...When I was younger,” she started quietly, not looking up from her plate, “my dad used to make me and JJ pancakes for breakfast every Sunday.”

Rafe, who’d been about to take another bite, paused. He studied her for a moment, his gaze flicking from her to the food, but he didn’t say anything. Y/N continued, her voice softer now.

“He hasn’t done that for years.”

His eyes softened a little, the layers of tension between them briefly melting away as he processed her words. He didn’t know how to respond to her suddenly opening up, so he just stayed silent, watching her as she cut into her pancake. For a second, he wished he could ease her melancholy, the way her voice had faltered just a little when she’d spoken of her father. Y/N looked up at him then, catching the brief flicker of empathy in his eyes, before she quickly glanced back down at her plate, focusing on her food. Neither of them said anything for a while, and the quiet lingered between them. Rafe cleared his throat after a beat, as though considering whether to share what was on his mind. He looked down at his plate, pushing some bacon around before speaking again, his voice quieter now.

"My dad used to… uh…" He paused, as if trying to find the right words, "used to say that a growing man needs a filling breakfast, so ever since then, if I have breakfast, I have this."

He motioned vaguely to his plate of eggs and bacon. Y/N, in the middle of cutting up her pancakes, glanced up at him, her eyes taking him in, trying to process his words. It was strange to hear him speak so casually about his father- considering everything she knew from Sarah about the difficulty of their relationship. She hummed in acknowledgement, a simple gesture before she spoke up again, a question lingering on her tongue.

“Aren’t you bored of it?”

He didn’t answer right away, chewing a bite of his food, his eyes never leaving her face.

“Some things you don’t get bored of.”

Her fork paused midair, and for a second, she just studied him. She gave a small, almost imperceptible nod of understanding before looking back down at her plate, cutting up another piece of pancake. But his eyes stayed on her, the weight of his gaze just enough to make her feel like he was reading her again. She didn’t look back at him, though- her mind was too busy running through the conversation, the way his words felt like an opening, even if just a crack.

Y/N sets down her fork, her plate now empty, and picked up the warm cup of tea in front of her, holding it between both hands. She takes a slow sip, letting the warmth spread through her as she looks out the window, her gaze distant. Rafe, still focused on his food, catches her pause out of the corner of his eye, sensing a change in her demeanor. He swallows a bite and glances at her, then back at his plate.

"How far away is the clinic?"

She asks quietly, her voice slightly less steady than usual. She’s trying to keep it calm, but there’s a subtle weight to her words, as though she’s still sorting through the emotions building up inside. Rafe chews for a moment before answering, his tone straightforward but gentle.

"It’s not far, maybe a 30-minute drive. Shouldn’t be too bad."

He doesn’t press her for a response, letting her take the lead in how much she wants to engage with him. She nods slowly, but her eyes remain unfocused, drifting out the nearby window as her thoughts spiral. She feels a tight knot forming in her stomach. The decision she’s made, the steps she’s about to take—they all feel heavier now, so much more real than ever before. The thought of the procedure is enough to make her feel a little sick, though she doesn’t want to admit it out loud. It’s all she’s been thinking about since they left the island, but now that they’re so close, it’s almost suffocating. Y/N’s fingers wrap more firmly around her cup as she stares out the window again, but there’s a slight unease in her posture now. After a moment of contemplation, she breaks the silence with a soft, almost tentative voice.

"Do I... do I have to give my name or...?"

Her voice trails off, unsure, as though she’s not even sure she wants to know the answer. Rafe, sensing her hesitation, quickly cuts her off, shaking his head. "No," he says, his tone firm but gentle.

"It's anonymous. You don't have to. They won't even know who you are."

Y/N's eyes flicker to him, and she exhales a quiet breath of relief. "Right," she mutters, her fingers tightening around the cup again.

The idea that it could be so impersonal, that no one would know her, seems to bring her some comfort, though she doesn’t show much outward emotion. The thought of keeping it all anonymous, of having no strings attached, gives her a strange sense of control over something that’s felt so out of her hands.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The hours leading up to the appointment felt like they were dragging, each minute stretching on, yet it was as if time was slipping by too fast at the same time. Y/N had spent most of the day trying not to think about what was coming, but now, as she stood outside the clinic, she couldn’t stop her mind from racing. Her heart was pounding, her stomach tied in knots, but she didn’t have the strength to back out now. Rafe walked ahead, pushing the door open for her, and she stepped inside, the sterile, clinical air hitting her as soon as she crossed the threshold. The waiting room was eerily quiet, the kind of silence that made her skin prickle. It was empty, except for one woman in her mid-thirties, flipping through a magazine, and the receptionist sitting behind the desk, typing away. "Go sit down," Rafe murmured softly, his tone steady as he gestured to the row of empty chairs against the wall,

"I'll get the papers you need to fill in."

She didn’t have to be told twice. Her legs felt like jello, and she made her way to an empty seat, trying not to let her nerves show. The walls of the room were a bland gray, making everything feel dull and lifeless. The fluorescent lights above hummed quietly, and there was a small window in the ceiling letting in the dim light from the dark sky. Y/N's eyes drifted to the woman sitting across the room. The woman glanced up from her magazine and caught her gaze, offering a kind, understanding smile. Y/N hesitated for just a second but returned a small, tight-lipped smile in return. The woman nodded in acknowledgment before looking back down at her magazine and Y/N took a deep breath, trying to steady her thoughts. A moment later, Rafe returned, clipboard in hand, and sat beside her.

"Here"

He said, passing it to her with a soft smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. She nodded, taking the clipboard from him. She looked down at the forms, at the boxes she’d need to fill in, the questions that seemed to stare up at her, expecting answers. Her grip tightened around the pen as she brought it to the paper, but the tremble in her hand was almost impossible to ignore. She bit her lip and tried to steady herself, but it was no use. Her hand wouldn’t stop shaking, and she could feel the hot sting of tears threatening to fall, though she desperately fought to keep them in check. Rafe noticed immediately, his eyes narrowing with concern. He sat closer, his hand lightly resting on her hand for a moment before he gently took the clipboard from she had grasped in it.

"Let me do it," he said quietly, his voice soft but insistent.

"I’ll fill it in for you."

Y/N opened her mouth to protest, but the words got stuck in her throat. She muttered, feeling embarrassed, but she couldn’t seem to help it,

"But… you might not know..."

Rafe looked at her, his expression unwavering but gentle,"Then you tell me," he replied, his voice calm,

"and I’ll write it down alright?"

Y/N stared at him for a beat, her heart doing something strange in her chest, something like relief mixed with disbelief. She could feel the weight of his kindness, and for a moment, it almost made her want to cry more. But instead, she simply nodded, her throat tight.

"Okay"

She whispered, taking a steadying breath. She started telling him the details- any medical allergies, then other information like her date of birth- which he reassured wasn't necessary if she didn't want it there. Rafe wrote it all down, his handwriting neat and precise, his hand steady despite her trembling voice. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him directly, but the warmth of his presence beside her was oddly grounding, even though it didn't make her fear go away. The woman who had been reading the magazine had gone in, and the receptionist was somewhere out of sight, probably dealing with paperwork or something in the back.

It left just Rafe and Y/N sitting together in quiet.

Y/N sat forward slightly, her hands laid pressed under her thighs, her fingers digging into the chair. She couldn’t bring herself to look up. Her eyes stayed focused on her shoes, her mind racing, all the thoughts running in every direction. Rafe, stayed sitting beside her, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. His jaw was tense, his brow furrowed slightly, and despite the calm exterior. Then, out of nowhere, Y/N broke the silence.

"Rafe, I’m scared."

Her voice was soft, barely above a whisper, but it hit him hard. He was taken aback, not expecting her to admit it. He had seen her put up walls, but hearing her say those words made something tighten in his chest. He turned to her, trying to offer some kind of comfort, even if he wasn’t sure how to give it.

“Hey- it's okay...”

He said, his voice quiet but earnest. But she wasn’t reassured, her teeth caught her bottom lip, and she bounced her leg nervously, her eyes still downcast. Her voice cracked slightly, and she swallowed hard.

“What if something goes wrong, and—”

"Y/N—this is the best clinic in Charleston, alright? I promise."

Rafe shook his head in a reassuring gesture. Her eyes flickered up to him for a moment, but she quickly dropped her gaze again, her voice barely audible when she spoke again.

“I—but what if something happens?”

"Maybank" he said, his voice firm yet gentle, as if trying to anchor her in the moment.

“Nothing is going to happen, okay? You’re gonna go in there, they’ll do the procedure, it'll take 15 minutes and then you’ll be out. I’ll be right here waiting for you."

She let out a breath she’d been holding in, almost like a tiny surrender, but still, her hands were clenched under her thighs, her shoulders tense. Rafe could see her trying to hold it together, but the vulnerability in her eyes was there, clear and raw. Her hands moved then, resting on top of her thighs, and then, as if she couldn’t hold it in anymore, one hand came up to cover her mouth, the other rubbing her face in frustration. She mumbled,

“I’m so scared.”

The words hit him like a punch, torturous, he felt it deep down, the weight of her fear, and it gutted him in a way he didn’t expect. She was trusting him enough to let this fear out, and it made him feel an overwhelming pressure in his chest. For a moment, he hesitated. He didn’t know what to do, what would help her calm down. But then, without thinking, he reached out, his hand resting gently over hers, the one still resting on her thigh. Her eyes flickered down to where his hand met hers, and for just a second, their gazes met- her eyes searching his, full of uncertainty, and something else.

Something almost... vulnerable.

"I’m going to be waiting here for you the whole time," he said softly, his voice steady but carrying a quiet reassurance.

"I’m not going anywhere."

Y/N’s chest rose and fell with a deep breath as she processed his words, her bottom lip trembling slightly. Then, slowly, she moved her hand so it was now holding his, her fingers slipping between his as she squeezed gently. He felt her hand in his, felt her trust in that simple gesture, and his thumb instinctively began rubbing soothing circles on the back of her hand. Neither of them said anything more. The silence between them wasn’t oppressive now; it felt almost comforting, as if the simple connection of their hands could steady them.

The quiet of the waiting room was broken by the soft click of a nearby door opening. An older woman in a crisp white doctor’s coat stepped out, glancing around the space before her eyes landed on Y/N. Her face softened immediately, smile warm and gentle as she called out,

“We’re ready for you now sweetheart.”

Y/N let out a shaky breath, so subtle it could’ve been missed if Rafe wasn’t watching her so closely. She straightened a little, gathering herself. Her fingers slowly, reluctantly, slipped from his, and Rafe let her go, though his hand lingered in place for just a second longer like it didn’t want to lose the contact.

“You’ll be fine”

He said quietly, his voice steady. She nodded- small, but firm- and stood up. Rafe watched as she walked toward the woman, her steps light, almost unsure. The doctor opened the door beside her and stepped inside, holding it open behind her. Y/N followed, before she paused in the doorway.

She looked back.

Her eyes found Rafe's, and for a moment, the world seemed to still. He met her gaze from where he sat, arms still crossed over his chest, jaw tight, but his eyes—his eyes soft blue eyes watching her like he didn’t want her to go in there alone- like he wanted to be there right beside her, holding her hand.

And then the door closed behind her.

Rafe exhaled slowly through his nose, the weight of the silence hitting him all over again. He hadn’t even noticed how hard his heart was beating until now. His hand twitched once on his leg, like it still remembered the feeling of her fingers in his.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The room was quiet.

Still

Only the faint sound of a random film playing on the TV filled the silence- a movie neither of them was really watching. Y/N sat curled up on the bed, knees pulled tight to her chest, her arms looped around them as her eyes stayed fixed on the screen like it was holding her in place.

She hadn’t said a word since the procedure.

Not in the car.

Not during the walk back up to the room.

Not once.

Rafe sat on the couch for a while, watching her more than the movie, caught somewhere between giving her space and wanting to do something, anything, to make this less heavy. Eventually, he stood up, quiet steps carrying him to the small desk tucked in the corner of the hotel room. He picked up the room service menu lying there, flipping it open. He glanced over at her again—still quiet, still curled up, like if she moved too much, she might fall apart and he walked back over and perched on the edge of the bed, not too close, careful with her space. Gently, he set the menu down beside her.

“You should eat something,”

He said, voice low, her eyes dropped to the menu for a second, but she didn’t reach for it. Then she turned to look at him, but he was already watching her. She gave a small shake of her head, still not speaking. Rafe sighed, running a hand down his jaw, rough with tension. “Maybank…” he tried again, softer this time.

“You gotta eat.”

Nothing, she didn’t move, didn’t speak. Just stared ahead at the TV like she wasn’t really in the room at all. “Alright,” he muttered, half to himself, picking up the menu again.

“Let’s see…”

He started listing, casual but careful, “Mozzarella sticks... caesar salad... bbq wings... mac and cheese.... tomato soup with grilled cheese....? Sliders? Pasta? Uh- spaghetti with truffle and mushroom? No..? Alright, club sandwich... chicken tenders... fries…?”

Her head shifted slightly.

Just enough to catch his attention and make his eyes flick over, catching the way hers had finally lifted, just the tiniest bit of reaction. “Fries?” he asked, tone light but a little hopeful.

“You want fries?”

She didn’t speak, but after a beat, gave him the smallest nod. It wasn’t much, barely anything- but it was something to Rafe. That was enough to make a small, quiet smile tug at the corner of his lips. “Alright” he said softly, already reaching for the hotel phone to place the order, his eyes lingering on her just a second longer.

He crossed the room in a few slow strides, grabbing the hotel phone off the receiver with one hand while flipping open the room service menu with the other. His thumb hovered briefly over the order as he pressed the button for the front desk. When the soft voice of the receptionist answered, he ordered simply- just the fries, nothing else. His voice was steady, careful, like he didn’t want to disturb the fragile quiet that had settled over the room. As he hung up, the faint mechanical buzz of the line disconnecting filled the space for a second, then faded. The silence returned but this time, it was broken—softly,

“Thank you”

Y/N said, her voice barely above a whisper. Rafe blinked and turned around slowly, surprised. She hadn’t spoken since she’d walked out of the clinic, hadn’t looked at him much either. And now, her voice was small—tired in a way that made something twist in his chest. He offered a quiet nod.

“It’s fine.”

He didn’t say anything else, just turned to go back to the sofa where he’d been keeping his distance since they got back. He didn’t want to crowd her, not after he'd just managed to get her to ease open. But just as he reached the edge of the bed, her voice stopped him again “You, um…” she said, hesitating, chewing at her bottom lip.

“You can sit here- if you like...”

He looked over at her slowly. She was still curled up near the pillows, knees hugged to her chest, the hotel duvet tangled loosely around her legs. She wasn’t quite looking at him- her eyes were flickering toward the television instead- but her fingers were nervously fidgeting in her lap.

“You sure about that?”

He asked gently, his voice softer now, the usual sharpness dulled by caution. She nodded, the motion small but certain. “Yeah,” she murmured, her voice slightly more sure this time.

“I’m sure.”

He hesitated only a second more before moving- careful and quiet, almost like if he made too much noise the moment might break apart. He rounded the bed and eased himself down beside her on the opposite side, lowering slowly until his back rested against the padded headboard. He kept a respectful distance, just enough to give her space but not so far that she felt alone. The curtains were drawn tight, muffling the city beyond, and the quiet hum of the air conditioner blended with the low volume of the movie.

Y/N sat propped against the pillows now, the bowl of fries resting on her lap. She was picking at them slowly, not ravenous, just nibbling. The taste of them felt grounding, something familiar in all the strange quiet of the day. Beside her, Rafe sat with his arms crossed over his chest, head tipped back against the headboard, eyes half-lidded as he watched the television. His expression was unreadable- tired maybe, the pale light of the screen moved across his face, catching the curve of his jaw and the furrow between his brows.

She glanced at him for a moment, then looked down at the bowl in her hands. Without a word, she nudged it a little toward him- silent but clear in her offering. Rafe’s eyes slid down to the bowl, then back up to her. He gave a faint shake of his head.

“I’m good, Maybank.”

“Have some,”

She tilted her head slightly, not pressing, just… encouraging as she said quietly. He looked at her again, her face soft in the dim light. There was a gentleness in her voice that tugged at something in his chest.

“They’re really good,”

She added, as if that might tip the scales.

And it did.

Rafe gave a small, defeated nod and reached into the bowl, pulling out a fry. He took a bite, crunching into it—and he had to agree it was perfect. Crisp, golden, just the right amount of salt. He gave a quiet little amused breath through his nose, the corner of his mouth lifting into a small smile.

“That’s pretty damn good”

He admitted and Y/N let out a breath that was almost a laugh, her lips curving into a small smile- soft, genuine. It was the first real one all day. She spoke, nudging the bowl toward him again.

“Have another”

He didn’t argue this time. He reached in and grabbed another fry, and then another after that because it seemed to satisfy her- make her happy. She shifted a little, adjusting the bowl so it sat between them now, and in doing so, she edged closer to him—just enough that their arms were nearly brushing. The bowl sat empty now, discarded somewhere by their feet, but Y/N hadn’t moved. She was still tucked in beside him, her side pressed into his, arms brushing with every breath, every subtle shift. The silence was back—but it wasn’t the heavy kind from earlier. It was different now, calmer.

A little softer around the edges.

Rafe hadn’t shifted either. His arms were no longer crossed, his hands resting on his stomach now as he leaned against the headboard, legs stretched out in front of him. He could feel the warmth of her against him, not overwhelming—just there.

Solid.

Y/N's knees were still drawn up, but her shoulders had eased, the tension from earlier leaking out of her bit by bit. Her cheek was tilted slightly toward him, not quite resting, but close enough that if she leaned an inch more, she could. The TV kept playing, casting dull light across the room, neither of them really paying attention to it. Rafe shifted just slightly, glancing down at the point where their arms touched, then at her profile. The flicker of the screen light danced along her skin, catching on the curve of her cheek, the arch of her nose.

Rafe’s throat felt dry, like he hadn’t swallowed in hours. He blinked, but his gaze didn’t shift.

Not from her.

Not from the way the soft hotel light picked up on her lashes or the way the curve of her lips- soft and slightly parted- seemed impossibly delicate. Y/N sensed it, felt his eyes on her. She turned her head slightly, brows pulling together gently. She asked, her voice soft, barely above a whisper.

“What?”

“Hm?”

He blinked again, slower this time. She tilted her head, a small crease forming between her brows as she brought a hand up to swipe lightly across her cheek.

“Is there something on my face?”

Rafe’s eyes followed her hand, the slow sweep of her fingers against her skin. He shook his head quickly—too quickly maybe—and leaned back against the headboard again. “No,” he said, his voice low, the edge of it a little hoarse.

“No there isn’t.”

Her hand fell away as she looked at him. Really looked. The space between them felt warm, heavier somehow than it had a second ago. The TV was still going, but the sound barely reached them anymore. Her eyes stayed on his, searching his expression like she wasn’t sure what she was seeing there.

Neither of them looked away.

Her gaze dipped- just briefly- to his lips and then in return his eyes did the same, flickering down to hers. His tongue slipped over his bottom lip dampening it slightly and the moment stretched, thick with something unsaid, something almost fragile.

The moment shattered with the sharp buzz of her phone against the bedside table. Y/N blinked, her gaze finally dragging from Rafe’s- like coming up for air- and she turned toward the sound coming from the bed side table, phone screen lighting up the darkened corner of the room.

JJ

She stared at the name for a second too long, her stomach twisting. He didn’t know where she was, as far as JJ was concerned, she was in Charleston chasing a job offer. She picked it up, pressed the screen to answer, and forced her voice to be steady.

“Hey, Jay… everything okay?”

There was a pause on the other end, the background sound fuzzy like he was outside before his voice came through, rough but familiar.

“Uh… yeah- yeah. I’m cool. Just… wondering how your interview went.”

Her brows pulled slightly together in surprise.

“Oh. Uh—it was okay. Yeah. Went fine.”

There was a soft hum from him in response and then silence. She shifted on the bed turning away from Rafe who was now looking at her somewhat curiously, especially since he noticed the tension in her shoulders tightening. She asked, the edge of concern pushing through.

“You sure everything’s okay?”

“Yeah, I’m at the Chateau,” he answered, “It’s… chill here.”

“That’s good,” she said quietly.

There was another stretch of silence, a tense one to the point she could feel something sitting behind it. Then JJ cleared his throat.

“Y/N, I was just thinking… um-”

“What’s wrong?”

She asked quickly, her voice dipping softer as she could sense her distress. She could hear something different in his voice—like guilt “I’m sorry,” he said, barely above a whisper. “For not talking to you...” Her breath caught a little and she swallowed. Her grip on the phone tightened just slightly.

“I, uh- I got a job, that’s what I was calling to tell you. It’s, uh, at the fish and tackle shop.”

She froze and for a second, she didn’t even process what he said. she just stared down at the carpet of the room, lips parted then spoke out, “… are you being serious?”

“Yeah” There was another pause before he continued his voice coming out through through the small speaker of the phone,

“I’m sorry I’ve been slacking and you’ve had to carry the house by yourself. I’m… I’m trying to be better. For you.”

She stared at the wall, that ache behind her ribs swelling. A sad smile tugged at her lips as her eyes glistened. She blinked fast, the sting behind her eyes catching her off guard. She drew in a slow, quiet breath through her nose.

“I’m proud of you Jay”

“Thanks,” he said, quieter now and then he asked, “When are you coming home?”

She drew in a slow breath, “Tomorrow. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Okay…”

She glanced at the clock on the bedside table, its red digits glowing up to her, her voice lightening.

“You going to sleep soon or what? It’s pretty late.”

He let out a tired “mmhmm,” and then he said, almost too quietly, “I miss you.” She pursed her lips tight, holding in the rush of emotion building in her throat. “I miss you too.”

“Goodnight,” he mumbled out to her.

“Go to sleep”

“I will.”

“You better.”

He let out a low chuckle- small, but real- and she could almost envision his boyish grin in the dark. “See you tomorrow,” she said.

“See ya tomorrow, sis.”

The line went dead.

She lowered the phone slowly, staring at it in her lap. The silence of the hotel room returned, and with it came the dull, heavy pressure in her chest. That hollow feeling. That shame. Because even though she had smiled and said all the right things, one truth lingered loud in her head—

She’d lied to him- and she'd never done that, not as seriously as this.

Her teeth sank into her bottom lip as her fingers tightened slightly around the edges of her phone. The guilt crept in like a tide, slow but suffocating. JJ’s voice was still echoing in her ears—the softness in it, the hesitation- he was trying so hard. He had called just to tell her he’d gotten a job, just to let her know he was trying to be better for her.

And here she was.

Sitting in a hotel room far from home, sharing quiet and warmth with the one person her brother hated more than anyone else on the island. The one person who'd hated and tourmented them since they were kids. She glanced over at him, still silent on the other side of the bed. His gaze was fixed on the muted television, though she could tell he wasn’t really watching. There was a calmness to his posture now, a quiet presence that shouldn’t have felt safe- but somehow did.

And that made it worse.

Because the longer they sat here, the more she realized that her feelings for him were starting to shift. The edges of her anger had dulled, the lines had blurred. He had seen her at her lowest, and he hadn’t run, he hadn’t mocked her like he always had. He’d stayed- and that terrified her more than anything.

Because JJ could never know.

Not about why she was really in Charleston.

Not about Rafe.

And especially not about the way her heart was starting to beat differently when he looked at her.

“You’re in so much fucking trouble, you know that?” Mattheo drawled, amusement dripping from his tone. He was already fantasizing about telling Tom exactly what was playing out before him, you could tell. And so could Theo, his eyes narrowing behind the mask.

“You better shut the fuck up before I slit your throat right here and now.” Theo’s voice was threatening and fierce, the tight grip on the knife turning his knuckles white as he glared at his friend. 

“Relax, tough guy.” Mattheo’s brown eyes flickered towards you, darkening with something unreadable— something that made your stomach churn. “You want me to keep my mouth shut?” A pause. His tongue swiped across his lips. 

“Then let me join. We’ll use this slut before we gut her like a fucking fish.” Theo scoffed, shaking his masked head in disbelief while Mattheo leaned lazily against the wall, his bat resting beside him, arms crossed as he waited for an answer. 

For a quick second, your eyes were drawn to Mattheo’s arms which were covered in platters of blood, flexing slightly as he folded them, revealing his toned muscles. But your gaze was instantly captivated by his eyes— so soft-looking, such a gentle shade of brown, yet something maniacal lurked within them, making you deeply uneasy.

Between the two of them, Mattheo was clearly the deranged one out of the two, while Theo seemed more composed, more calculated. And with that knowledge, you stayed perfectly still, not daring to move an inch, not wanting to attract any unnecessary attention as you listened to them bicker. It was almost as if they’d forgotten you were even there.

“Let you… join? Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Theo muttered irritably, taking a moment to think before stepping closer to Mattheo, knife pointed right at his throat. “Fine. But let me make one thing fucking clear. We’re letting her live. Capito?” 

Mattheo groaned dramatically. “Oh, Jesus Christ. Theodore Nott found the love of his life on purge night, ladies and gentlemen!” He gestured wildly, as if speaking to an invisible audience. 

Theo’s jaw clenched. “You fucking idiot. Now she knows my full name.” His voice was dangerously low, his face mere inches from Mattheo’s. Their dynamic was strange— one you couldn’t quite place. They seemed like close friends, yet also like they could kill each other at any moment.

Mattheo rolled his eyes. “Oh, please— Here! I’ll take off my mask.” Before Theo could stop him, Mattheo reached up and pulled it off in one swift motion. 

Oh. 

He was unexpectedly handsome— his dark locks were tousled from the mask, his stunning features complementing the deep brown eyes that had already been exposed to you earlier.

“My name is Mattheo Riddle, I went to Cresthaven high school… what else, uhhh… Oh! I had a really cute cat named Whiskers, which disappeared one day—“” 

“Idiota del cazzo, shut the fuck up!” Theo snapped, his voice laced with exasperation. You could see the sheer panic in his blue eyes, but Mattheo— he relished riling Theo up like this, his pretty eyes glinting with amusement as he glared at him.

“You’re such a pussy, man. Calm down” 

“Yeah… that’s what I said.” You softly murmured under your breath from across the room, still on your knees— but they didn’t even acknowledge you. Theo’s fiery gaze was locked onto Mattheo, while Mattheo’s mischievous one was equally fixated on Theo’s. 

This was your chance. Now or never. 

Carefully, you shifted onto all fours, keeping your gaze trained on the two bickering men as you slowly crawled towards the open door, inch by inch. It was risky—you were on the far side of the room next to the bed, meaning you had to slip past them—but it wasn’t impossible.

“Can you put away your, you know, weapon? Feels threatening.” Mattheo then said, causing Theo to narrow his eyes in pure confusion. Your heart pounded as you hyper-focused on every tiny movement, making sure they didn’t notice you. You could practically taste freedom.

“Che cosa? I’m not even holding a—” He began, his eyes shifting to the bloody knife laying on the carpet, staining the white fabric red, before his gaze flicked downward— landing on his half-hard erection. “Oh.” He scoffed in disbelief.

“Yeah, well, can you like, I don't know, point it the other way?” 

“You’re a fucking dramaqueen.”

“Listen, I’d rather take a bullet right now than be covered in your cum!” 

“You think I’m gonna cum while looking at that ugly face of yours? Please. You’ve got nothing to worry about ‘cause you’re making it soft already."

“That’s only because—”

Perfect. Fucking perfect. 

They were so wrapped up in their argument, it gave you the perfect opportunity to sneak away. And fuck—you were so close. You could nearly hear the bloodcurdling, agonised screams echoing from outside the still-open front door. You could almost smell the fresh blood of the poor souls being slaughtered in the streets. That’s how close you—

“Oh, would you look at that? Your pet is running away.” Mattheo’s dry tone sent a chill down your spine, the euphoria you’d felt mere seconds ago instantly shattering.

Theo hastily pulled on his boxers before storming towards you and yanking your head by gripping a fistful of your hair, causing you to let out a sharp scream. You could feel the warm trickle of blood running down your skin again, as he carelessly reopened the wound on your neck. 

“Did I say you could leave? Huh? Quit being a fucking brat if you want to stay alive.” 

“You’re too fucking nice to her, you pussy.” Mattheo growled from across the room before approaching you as well. You swallowed hard, unsure what he meant by it before he quickly picked you from the floor by effortlessly  swinging your body over his broad shoulder. He walked towards the bed and aggressively threw you on it, your body bouncing from the impact. 

Mattheo’s hand inched closer to you before his firm palm harshly met the skin of your soft cheek, making your face whip to the side. Tears pricked your waterline from the dazzling stinging sensation, and you were dumbfounded— not necessarily by Mattheo slapping your face, but by how much it turned you on.

“That will shut her up.” Mattheo murmured, his self-satisfied grin evident. Theo’s jaw clenched as he glared at him, disapproval written all over his face before he glanced back at you, his eyes softening slightly through the mask. 

It was an intimidating sight— both men staring down at you, their towering, intimidating frames looming over you, with darkened, piercing eyes fully fixated on you and you only. Your panties were soaked by now, but still, you desperately tried to hide it.

Mattheo noticed the way your stare lingered a little longer on Theo— specifically on his face... or rather, his mask. Making you gasp at the sudden movement, Mattheo reached for his own mask, which he had tossed aside earlier, and swiftly placed it back over his head again as he marched towards you. He bent down, tilting his masked head slightly as you could hear the slow, muffled breaths against the material, adding to the chilling scene.

“Does Miss have a little mask kink?” he growled, his voice low and taunting. You gulped, but kept a poker face, not giving him the satisfaction of a reaction, though your cheeks heated at his words. He was right, after all.

You narrowed your eyes at him, the fire in your gaze surprising him for a moment. It was a stark contrast to the fearful expression he was used to seeing in his countless victims. But he wasn’t one to back down from a challenge.

“You’re a little slow sometimes, aren’t you?” you taunted, daring to raise an eyebrow. But even as the words left your lips, a tiny bit of fear still bubbled up inside you. The mischievous grin on Mattheo’s face only grew wider, his piercing eyes staring down at your swollen lips. 

It was difficult for Mattheo to pinpoint exactly what it was, but there was something about you that pulled him in. Something that intrigued him. Something that made him want to keep you forever.

“You’re something else, you know that?” Mattheo said in a hushed tone, his voice muffled by the mask, an alluring gaze in his eyes. He swiftly seized the blood-soaked knife from the floor and inched it closer to your stomach, exposed by your lifted shirt, causing you to inhale sharply, your eyes flickering with fear. 

You expected to feel the sharp blade dig into your flesh again, but instead, he swiftly slid the weapon under your tight clothes and cut them open in one quick movement. You yelped at the sudden motion, your shirt ripping open, exposing your red lace bra. 

“Jesus, calm down. I’m not even hurting you.” Hearing the derision in his voice, you realized you were holding your breath. You let out a shaky exhale of relief— until you heard his chilling voice again, “Yet.” 

Theo still loomed over you in front of the bed, his sharp eyes closely observing the scene. He seemed mesmerised, watching Mattheo cut off each article of clothing from your shivering body. You felt more and more exposed with each passing moment as goosebumps covered your bare figure, now only clothed in your underwear and bra. 

Theo drew closer, the sound of his heavy footsteps and your pounding heart the only noise in the room, his tall figure casting a dark, intimidating shadow right over you. He took the knife from Mattheo, eager to finish the job, and slid the blade under your bra while leaning over you. You locked eyes with him, and he was so close that all you could see in front of you was the bloodstained, white mask and his captivating blue eyes. 

A gasp slipped from your lips as he sliced your bra, his fierce gaze not leaving yours once. Strangely, you couldn’t break eye contact either, as though some invisible force was pulling you in, drowning you in the depth of his stunning ocean eyes. 

After tossing your bra to the floor, he dragged the knife over your delicate skin, the blade leaving superficial marks in its wake, down to your dripping cunt. You cursed yourself for not pushing him away and seizing the knife, but you couldn’t— in fact, you were craving more. And he knew that. He didn’t need to hear the words when your sparkling eyes told him everything.  

Growing impatient, he quickly snapped the straps of your lace thong, the sharp blade so dangerously close to your most intimate spot. Still, you only felt yourself grow more aroused because of it, and the shame and anger towards yourself gradually faded, as lust, yearning and desperation overtook all other senses. 

For the first time, Theo slowly broke eye contact, his hungry eyes scanning every inch of your fully naked figure— every mole, every imperfection, every detail that made it yours. He couldn’t seem to look away, his pupils dilating and his pants growing tighter at the breathtaking sight. Slowly, he inched closer, and you could smell that delicious, musky cologne again, calming you down instantly.

“Like I said, such a pretty little thing.” he whispered, and you felt your cheeks heat up, your core throbbing with how badly you craved to feel something. “You’re all ours tonight. We’re gonna fucking ruin you.” 

Before you could question his statement, he pulled you towards him by your hips and swiftly flipped you over, eliciting a shriek out of you as your body bounced on the mattress. He propped your hips up, leaving you ass up, face down in front of them. Embarrassment washed over you, being in such a vulnerable position in front of two men, and you could feel your arousal trickling down your thighs, only making you feel more humiliated. 

“She’s dripping, mate. Fuckin’ pathetic.” Mattheo remarked, a condescending chuckle escaping his lips as Theo handed him the knife. 

“‘Course she is. Have you seen the way she’s been looking at us?” Theo replied, watching Mattheo move closer to you. Your whole body tensed as you felt the blade running over your exposed skin once again. You didn’t need to see Mattheo to know he was smirking at the sight of you trembling in a mix of fear and arousal.

“Don’t got much to say now, huh?” He taunted, dragging the knife down your bare back to your ass, the cold metal and sharp edges making you shiver. 

“Fuck you.” You spat back at him, but even as the words left your mouth, you felt yourself unable to fight back. You were terrified, yes— but that wasn’t why.

“There she is.” Mattheo said, his tone pleased, before harshly slapping your ass and leaving a stinging mark on your sensitive skin, making you jolt forward.

Immediately after, you felt the icy knife dig into your flesh, deeper and deeper, until your warm blood trickled from the open wounds, making you hiss at the sharp pain. Slowly, you felt the letters M and R being carved into your ass on one side before Mattheo handed the knife to Theo. 

Theo did the same to the still unmarked skin, but this time you felt the letters T and N being cut deeply into your delicate flesh, making you grip the sheets from the sting. Mattheo leaned down and eagerly licked up your blood from the wound, and you inhaled a sharp breath at the feeling of his tongue lapping at the deep cuts. 

Theo abruptly gripped a handful of your hair and yanked your head back, holding the blood-dripping knife close to your face. “Clean it up.” he instructed, and you complied, your tongue gliding carefully over the sharp metal as the bitter, metallic taste of your own fresh blood filled your senses.

“Atta girl.” he grunted in approval, as he dragged you off the bed and onto your feet by your hair, making you yelp at the pull. Theo now stood in front of you, and Mattheo behind, your lips set in a grim line at being so close to both men, feeling their burning gaze through the masks, on you and you only.  

Theo lowered his boxers again, his cock still painfully hard, the tip pink and swollen, leaking with precum. His gaze lingered on you, devouring your form with hungry eyes, as his hand moved to your head, gently cupping your flushed face. 

For the first time on purge night, something stirred inside him— a warmth, a tingle that gnawed at his chest. It was unfamiliar, unsettling. He had never felt anything like this before. In the past, the screams and pleas of his victims were nothing but background noise, just another part of the night. But with you... it was different. The faces of those he’d slaughtered had always blurred together, reduced to mere objects. But he saw you as a person, a human being— and it terrified him. 

“So fuckin’ pretty.” Theo groaned, his voice rough with desire as he abruptly gripped the back of your thighs and lifted you, your cunt hovering over his leaking erection. Instinctively, you wrapped your legs around his muscular torso, and he effortlessly held you up, his biceps flexing, his fingers digging into your flesh.

That feeling— it was back again. That disgusting, hollow sensation. You thought you had pushed it away, but how could you, when you’re about to have sex with a fucking murderer? Theo noticed the slight tension in your body, your brow furrowing as you nibbled on your bottom lip. 

“I promise I’ll make it worth it.” 

Your pulse raced, the blood-curdling screams outside the house, combined with being sandwiched between two masked killers, making you feel… unsettled. Yet Theo’s deep voice, laced with his thick Italian accent, was enough to pull you in, distracting you from the terror.

You wiggled your hips, your pussy aching with need, craving him. The head of his cock nudged against your wet entrance, making your body shudder in anticipation.

“Tsk, so impatient,” he taunted, his voice laced with amusement, but there was an edge to it. Before you could reply, he pushed you down fully onto him, filling you completely, stretching you in a way that made you hiss. His breath was uneven in your ear as he murmured, “You feel so good, bella. So damn tight.”

Behind you, you heard Mattheo free his erection from his pants, the tip brushing against you. “Not even waiting for me, huh? I see how it is.”

The sudden pressure of Mattheo’s cock pushing into your ass made you gasp, your sharp nails digging into Theo’s arms as the sharp, stinging pain hit you. Tears welled up in your eyes as Mattheo, unrelenting, spread your cheeks and pushed in deeper.

He didn’t give a fuck that he was hurting you— in fact, it turned his sick brain on even more. He was only after his own pleasure, using you like a toy to get what he wanted.

“It— It hurts!” you cried out, the sensation of being filled by both men stretching you beyond what you could handle, making you bite down hard on your lip until you drew blood from the thin skin, but it also fueled an unfamiliar hunger within you. You wanted to fight, to push Mattheo away, to scream for him to stop— but the combination of the sharp pain and the overwhelming pleasure made it almost impossible to resist. It was intoxicating.

“Shut up and fuckin’ take it,” Mattheo growled, thrusting in with brutal force. “This night could’ve been a lot worse.” 

Through your blurred vision, you locked eyes with Theo, and for some reason, that gave you a sense of grounding. You had met Theo right before Mattheo barged in, but with Mattheo there, Theo felt like your safe space, as if you had known him for years.

“Fuuuck, you feel— god, you feel so good, baby.” Mattheo muttered, setting a brutal rhythm. You squeezed him so tightly, he couldn’t hold back. Even though it hurt, the mixture of pain and pleasure made you even more wet, arousal leaking all over Theo’s cock.

But then, a sharp chill ran through you as you felt the cold blade pressed against your throat.

“One wrong move, and it’s over.” Mattheo grunted into your ear, once again relishing the fear it stirred in you, pushing him closer to the edge. His cock pushed deeper in and out of you, rubbing against Theo’s, separated only by the thin wall of your flesh.

Theo kept a close watch on your facial expressions and body language, alert and ready to intervene if Mattheo went too far. He didn’t know why he felt protective over you, but he did, and he felt himself relax as more pleasure than pain radiated from you.

Theo began thrusting into you as well, his pace significantly slower than Mattheo’s, who was nearing his release. Mattheo’s hands gripped your hips, holding you firmly as his thrusts became rougher, bruising you with every movement. You felt so tight around him, the knife at your throat unsteadily shaking as his thrusts grew sloppier, making your whole body freeze at the danger.

Luckily for you, Mattheo came deep inside you a few thrusts later, strings of curses falling from his lips. Theo had expected him to come fast. He’d been waiting for it, craving to feel you on his own. All to himself. 

“Just what I needed… Fuck.” Mattheo groaned breathlessly as he abruptly pulled out, the sudden emptiness feeling strange for a moment, but you quickly felt his warm cum drip out of you, dripping down all over Theo’s cock. Behind you, you heard the mask drop to the floor, followed by the familiar click of a lighter, cigarette smoke quickly filling the air.

“You’re mine now,” Theo whispered into your ear, his voice low and possessive, drawing your attention back to him. With his arms still holding you up, he effortlessly walked you both over to the bed, sitting on the edge with you on top of him.

“Come on, pretty girl. Make me feel good,” he ordered lazily, settling back on his elbows, his eyes hungrily raking over your naked body, from your perfect tits to the way your cunt still tightly gripped his hard cock.

You felt hesitant at first, self-conscious under the weight of their eyes, waiting for you to fuck yourself on Theo’s cock. But then, a flicker of something other than lust caught your attention in Theo’s eyes— desperation. He wanted this badly, more than anything, and it made you feel powerful in the situation.

“How about you beg for it first?” You blurted out, immediately gulping hard, not knowing if you killed yourself just now by saying those words. Theo cocked his head to the side, the silence only making you more nervous.

“Such a dumb girl, isn’t she? She’s lucky she’s this pretty.” Mattheo remarked, the sound of him exhaling cigarette smoke carrying his amusement with it. But Theo ignored him, all his focus on you, your unexpected request clearly intriguing him.

“Please.” He murmured with a smirk. His rough hands gripped your ass, the sharp sting of the fresh wounds on your skin being stretched overshadowed by the feeling of his cock buried deep inside you. The word felt foreign coming from him— usually, it would be said to him, not the other way around.

Mattheo’s eyes widened, watching the scene unfold. “What the— you know what? Not my problem.” He shook his head, taking another drag from his cigarette and observing the two of you with a mix of curiosity and disinterest.

Slowly, you began to move up and down on Theo, your hands resting on his chest as his cock slid in and out of you, massaging your walls so perfectly. Low groans escaped his lips as he watched you, his eyes filled with lust, one hand roughly guiding your hips. 

Mattheo handed him the cigarette, and Theo took a slow drag, his eyes darting all over your body, unsure where to look. With one hand still gripping your flesh, he exhaled, blowing the smoke right into your face. He smirked at the way you coughed against the thick cloud, his eyes squinting in amusement. 

You were too focused on the way Theo’s erection stretched you open to care about anything else, your head thrown back as you rode him, chasing your own orgasm. Theo was holding back his moans, not wanting to reveal how much he was enjoying it, but your pussy felt like heaven to him. This might even be better than killing on purge night, he thought to himself.

“You gonna cum for me, baby? You gonna cum all over my dick?” Theo groaned, handing the cigarette back to Mattheo. Both of his hands now gripped your hips harshly, guiding you up and down on his cock. You felt disgusting—covered in blood, bruises, cuts, Mattheo’s cum, and your own arousal—but still, this night could’ve ended a lot worse.

“Mhm... mhm,” you softly murmured, nodding and unable to speak, your movements increasing as you neared your climax.

You felt Mattheo creep behind you, the scent of cigarette smoke filling your nostrils once more. “You better cum for us, princess. Or we might have to kill you after all,” He threatened, his hand brushing your tousled hair from your face as he mischievously gazed down at you.

Theo hit all the right spots, the pleasure becoming overwhelming as he thrust upward, the head of his cock brushing against your most sensitive parts. Just as you were about to cum, a sudden intense burn spread across your thigh, followed by a sizzling sound. Your head jerked to the side as you watched Mattheo press the end of his cigarette into your skin, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

“Look at you, all fucked out for us.” He chuckled, and at that moment, your orgasm uncontrollably rushed through you, clenching around Theo’s cock as he groaned deeply at the sensation.

Your knees buckled, your head thrown back, and the unbearable pain from the burn only heightened your pleasure. Your lips parted in ecstasy as you came, and quickly after, you felt a pool of warmth spread within you as Theo’s grip tightened on your hips, his own deep groans muffled by his white mask.

“So fuckin’ perfect…” were the only words Theo could manage, his breath shallow as he leaned back on the bed, eyes shut in the afterglow. It had been by far the best orgasm he’d experienced, and he refused to pull out, unwilling to miss the comforting warmth of your pussy around his cock.

The morning sun slowly rose, marking the end of Purge Night, and Theo reluctantly pulled out, watching as you collapsed against him— exhausted and ruined.

Mattheo smirked, amused by the sight, flicking the last embers of his cigarette onto the floor as the same ominous sirens blared violently through the walls, echoing over the blood-covered streets. “Yep, that’s our sign to leave.”

“You hear that? Purge Night is over,” Theo murmured, stroking your bruised skin possessively. “But that doesn’t mean we’re done with you.” Your eyes widened, and you couldn’t help but feel a rush of excitement surge through you. You weren’t ready to let go just yet. 

Mattheo chuckled darkly, “You think you can go back to your old life after this? You’re ours now.” As the sirens signaled the end of the chaos outside, the two exchanged a look— one that promised you were theirs, whether you liked it or not. Little did they know, that’s all you wanted. 

“We know where to find you now, piccola,” Theo said, his voice low and intense. “Any second of any day, we could climb through these windows… or break in through the back door. Who knows?”

With those final words, they walked out, leaving you naked, wounded, and stuffed with their cum, feeling the emptiness slowly creep up on you. Your eyes drifted to the two blood-soaked masks they left on your bedroom floor— souvenirs to remember them by, reminders of their power over you.

Purge Night was just the beginning.

reminder: reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated and keep me motivated. ♡

a/n: i understand that people might ask for a next part, but for now, i am not planning to write more full lengths fics for this. however, i will continue writing drabbles and creating more content in this au with the any of the slytherin boys! more.