18+

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You didn’t actually think it would work and that was your first mistake.

Rafe Cameron was the first and only son of Ward Cameron. He was handsome and rich and way out of your league, and you knew that he would never look at you in a million years. That didn’t stop your gaze from landing on him though anytime he was in the vicinity, and there was a point when you felt ashamed of your little crush, but now it hardly mattered to you. It’s not like he would ever actually be interested in you, so you saw no harm in indulging in silly fantasies.

…but then you started to wonder what it would actually be like.

What it would be like to be looked at by him like he looked at so many other girls—skinnier girls, richer girls, prettier girls. What it would be like to hold his hand and even kiss him. It was harmless, yes, but it was happening often enough to distract you, and you felt yourself being pulled from your thoughts.

“We’re about to head back to John B.’s for the night,” JJ told you after tapping you on the shoulder.

You gave him a nod, reluctantly following after him, but not without a last glance over your shoulder. You looked back just in time to watch as Rafe followed some girl up the stairs, one hand holding hers and the other holding a drink. Your heart skipped a beat as you watched them disappear, and you only forced yourself to move when JJ called your name.

You knew that your friends would think there was something wrong with you if you voiced these thoughts. The only one that might try to understand would be Kie. She was a girl like you who wasn’t related to him, and so she might be able to sympathize with why you couldn't just see him as some asshole. 

And he was certainly an asshole.

There was never any wool over your eyes about that. You’d witnessed enough of his interactions with your friends to come to that conclusion yourself, and you were sure you too would've been on the receiving end of his ire if he ever took the time to actually notice you. As it were, you were practically invisible to the blond, and you still couldn’t decide if that was a blessing or a curse, but that indecisiveness didn’t last much longer as you later came to the conclusion that it was indeed a curse.

A curse you could no longer live with.

“This is so stupid,” Sarah laughed one night, flipping through the book Kie had thrifted. “Look, look, this is one for how to get rich.”

“It’s not like you need that one,” the dark-haired girl teased, snatching it back.

“Neither do you,” you told her, reaching for it.

Kie laughed at you as you stood shoulder to shoulder, flipping through it. Her mocking gasp made you pause at the page y’all flipped to, and you didn’t join in right away as she laughed again.

“Look at this one,” she grinned, facing the pages towards Sarah. “A love spell!”

Sarah found it just as funny, taking the book and smiling at the page.

“Are you and John B. having any problems?” Kie joked.

“Are you and JJ having any problems?” she threw back, tone just as light. “...because now we know how to fix any.”

You were quiet as you took the book from the blonde, looking over it as Kie stood over your shoulder.

“Huh,” she commented. “It’s surprisingly simple. A little blood, their name on some paper, and a red candle and boom!”

“Sounds too easy to be true,” Sarah replied, taking the book back with a sigh. “You think they have one in here for a fat ass?”

You all laughed at that, but your mind was still stuck on that silly love spell. While Sarah found one for longer hair that she was willing to try, you kept thinking about Kie’s comment. You’d read it yourself, and it was surprisingly simple—easy to do—and it wasn’t like you’d be going completely out of your way to try it. It would take what? All of five minutes? Sarah was certainly having fun with it, currently brushing cinnamon through her hair, so why couldn’t you try some silly little love spell?

Worst case scenario, nothing came of it.

It’s not like that would be some devastating loss for you. Rafe already didn’t notice you, and it wouldn’t hurt you if he continued to not notice you. You’d learned to live with it for years, now, and it’s not as if you were expecting some miracle from some book Kie bought for laughs. You just wanted to try it, wanted to see what would happen.

“If my hair is down to my butt in two weeks, I owe you twenty dollars, Kie.”

Kie responded with something you couldn’t quite make out, your attention on your phone as you flipped through the book she’d left on the couch. They were none the wiser as you took a picture, telling yourself there was a chance you wouldn’t even do it, but wanting the option in case you changed your mind. Deep down though, you knew that you were lying to yourself.

Over the years, your harmless crush had morphed into something just a tad more desperate, and you couldn’t ignore the small voice in the back of your mind whispering to you what if it did work. What if you could make Rafe see you? Talk to you? Pursue you like you often dreamt about? The possibility filled you with butterflies, and you ignored the silly spell in your phone for all of a week.

You told Sarah that you weren’t feeling too well when she invited you to stay over. She hoped you felt better and asked you if you needed anything, but beyond that, she didn’t find your sudden ailment suspicious. Only you knew that you would never pass up an opportunity to see Rafe, even in passing, health be damned.

You felt somewhat foolish as you sat on your bedroom floor, a red candle lit next to a bowl of water. Truthfully, you didn’t know why. It’s not like anyone was around to witness this, but you would be lying if you said your desperation didn’t make you feel just a tad pathetic. Either way, it’s not like it stopped you from writing his first and last name on that paper, hand shaking as you did.

You thought that the blood would be the hardest hurdle to jump through, but it turns out that little thing in your brain that made it hard to hurt yourself decided to take a break for the night. Or maybe your desperation was just stronger. It took nothing at all to press a safety pin into your finger, and moments later Rafe’s name was covered in both your blood and the red candle wax.

You only started to feel unsure when you picked up the slip of paper.

What if it did actually work? While you weren’t sure what you believed in exactly, you did believe in something. You believed that some higher power did indeed exist and played a part in everything that happened in this world…and what if that higher power made this work? What if you woke up tomorrow and Rafe was knocking on your door to take you out on a date? What would you do? Your desires were so beyond out of reach that it had never occurred to you what you would actually do should you get what you wanted.

Your train of thought made you chuckle, rolling your eyes in the quiet room. You believed in something, sure, but magic didn’t exist. You believed in energy and faith backed actions, but you didn’t think you believed in magic. Either way, telling yourself it was pure curiosity, you held the piece of paper over the flame.

“We’re looking for John B.,” Sarah told you with a sigh. “Pope drank too much, so we gotta call it a night.”

“I think he was in the kitchen,” you let her know. 

“Can you check the backyard just in case he had to pee or something? I’ll text you if I find him so we can go.”

You both went in opposite directions, and you squeezed your way through bodies as you made your way outside. Mostly everybody seemed to be inside though with the exception of a few people, so it wasn’t hard to see pretty quickly that he wasn’t in the backyard anywhere. Not wanting to push your way past bodies again, you made the decision to just make your way to the van.

Your trek was interrupted by a very familiar blond.

“Woah,” he drunkenly said, having almost run into you. “Someone’s on a mission.”

You were stumped.

Not once had Rafe Cameron ever spoken to you—not even a word—and you couldn’t stop yourself from staring at him in a mixture of shock and awe. You felt your lips part, and you knew that you were staring at him like some kind of idiot, but you were finding it really hard to fathom that Rafe Cameron was talking to you.

The guy in question frowned at you, eyes narrowing a bit as he snapped his fingers in your face.

“You good?”

Acknowledging that you needed to speak and that you probably looked all kinds of unwell, you blinked.

“I..I’m sorry, I… What?”

He thought you were funny, apparently, chuckling at you with this haughty drunken smile on his lips. He tilted his head at you, dirty blond strands falling onto his forehead.

“I said are you good,” he slowly repeated.

“Yeah,” you hurried to reply, not wanting to look any more foolish in front of him. “Sorry. My friend…he’s kind of not feeling good, and I’m just trying to round everybody up.”

You felt like you were standing on air, having a somewhat out of body experience. Were you actually holding a conversation with Rafe Cameron? Someone who had never acknowledged you a day in your life? It felt like a dream, and you could only stare at him as he softly laughed to himself. You only noticed the blunt in his hand when he brought it up to his lips.

“Sarah drink too much?”

You frowned at him, and you felt confused. You and Sarah were friends, but you didn’t know that he knew that. You didn’t even know that he knew you knew her. Your silence must have stretched on for too long because he was speaking again.

“You are one of her little friends, right?”

For the second time that night, you were stumped.

“Yeah…I am,” you slowly told him, hurrying to defend Sarah after you processed what he said. “...and no. We’re looking for someone else.”

Feeling completely out of your element, you started to walk past him, wondering if you were hallucinating. Rafe Cameron never talked to you, never even so much as looked at you, and in one night you’d had a whole conversation with him.

“You don’t seem like the partying type.”

Make that two.

“What?” you wondered, facing him again.

You watched smoke swirl between his lips for a while before he exhaled.

“You don’t seem like the partying type,” he repeated. “You seem like you’d rather have your head in a book somewhere.”

You didn’t know how to respond to that so you simply said:

“I can’t like both?”

Rafe’s only response was a slow smile, and something about it made your stomach twist—in both a good and bad way. Before he could say anything else thoguh—and before you could further embarrass yourself—you heard your name being called. It sounded like Sarah, and giving Rafe one last look, you ran off to find her.

It turns out she’d texted you that she found John B., and you’d been so distracted by Rafe that you hadn’t felt the vibration. You were distracted by him for the rest of the night in fact, even as you rubbed Pope’s back as he threw up in the toilet. Rafe Cameron had talked to you, and it still didn’t feel real. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that you dreamt the whole thing up, but the goosebumps still on your skin said otherwise.

A brief thought of a red candle and some blood passed through your mind, and you shook your head. You actually scoffed out loud to yourself, telling yourself that Rafe was drunk and high out of his mind, and he just happened to run into you outside. Even if magic was real, it wouldn’t be in the form of some spell done by some silly nineteen year old girl. That’s what you told yourself anyway, but you were having second thoughts about that when Rafe Cameron stood at your door only a few days later.

“I just wanted to do the old fashioned and respectful thing…”

You stood in the living room with your lips parted, looking over your father’s shoulder as he faced the blond—the blond who had shown up at your doorstep with flowers and candy and a charming smile on his face asking your father for permission to take you out on a date. It was so outdated and so unlike him, and you could only avoid your mother’s gaze as she looked at you in confusion.

“Well, that’s…that’s very admirable of you, Rafe.”

When your father turned to you, you didn’t need to be a genius to see that Rafe’s chivalry had gotten to him. Normally so over protective, your father instead stepped out of the way for you, and you remembered that it was you Rafe was asking out. It was your response he needed, and you cleared your throat.

“We’ll be on the porch,” you softly said to the older man as you moved past him, quietly shutting the door behind you.

You took the flowers and the box of chocolates, but frowned when you did. The box felt weirdly light, but before you could comment on that, Rafe was speaking.

“It’s old school, I know, but…” he shrugged at you. “My ego can’t take not being liked by your parents.”

“Rafe, what are you doing?”

You jumped right to it, voicing your confusion and uncertainty and questioning his actions.

“Asking you out,” he said like it was obvious.

It was.

“Why?” you wondered, a deep frown between your brows.

“...because I want to take you out.”

Again, he said it like it was obvious.

“Why? We’ve had two conversations, including this one,” you reminded him.

“...and I can’t want to change that?” he wondered, voice dropping, and you hated the way your heart skipped a beat.

You looked down at the flowers in your hand, completely in shock.

This wasn’t like Rafe, at all, and you’d watched him enough to know. The entire thing was strange and unsettling, and you almost wanted to reject him but… Wasn’t this what you wanted? Hadn’t you watched Rafe for years just wishing that he would see you? Talk to you? Hadn’t you fantasized to have him look at you as he was currently looking at you?

Hadn’t you bled for that wish?

The thought that that silly little spell actually worked made your head spin, and even still, you didn’t want to believe it. There just had to be some other explanation, but nothing else made any sense. Didn’t this bring his consent in the matter into question? Wasn’t this beyond ethically bankrupt? Did you care?

It was wrong, so wrong, because deep down you knew where all of this was coming from. You’d wanted this for years, and here it was literally at your doorstep. Rafe Cameron was asking you out and wanting to pursue you and you were questioning it because of the ethics of witchcraft? Who were you to say no? It was so beyond selfish, but if Rafe could be selfish his whole life, why couldn’t you for five minutes?

You bit your lip and tightened your grip on the flowers.

“Okay,” you whispered, lifting your gaze. “I’ll go out with you.”

The look on Rafe’s face was one you’d wanted to see for ages, and any guilt that you felt was forgotten as he leaned in and pressed his lips to your cheek.

Rafe’s lips were harsh against yours as he kissed you on the bed of his truck. The cool night air was barely felt as he ran his hands over you, unable to keep them in one place and you were glad for it. The blond moaned into your mouth as he pressed himself against you, fitting comfortably between your legs. You felt like you were living in your wildest of dreams, and you couldn’t believe it.

Sarah had said something similar only days earlier.

“I don’t believe this,” she’d scoffed. “You and Rafe are going on a date?”

“He asked and I said yes. It happened so fast that I didn’t even consider how it might make you feel until after,” you’d honestly told her.

If all of this was really the result of some stupid book, you didn’t want to sell any more of your soul by being a bad friend too. You’d watched as the blonde ran her hands through her hair, seemingly in shock. She seemed like she had a lot she wanted to say, but she probably kept it to herself for your benefit.

“If this is what you want, what can I even say, you know? I didn’t even know you liked him like that,” she murmured to herself. “Although I suppose I can see why you never said anything.”

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay with it.”

“I don’t know if okay is the right word, but…” she shrugged. “I can’t tell you or him what to do.”

Your talk with the other blonde definitely made you feel better about answering the door when Rafe arrived at your house. The date went well enough, Rafe taking you to some restaurant you’d never be able to afford, and giving you his undivided attention the entire time. His heavy gaze kept your face warm the entire night, and you reminded yourself that this is what you wanted and you got it.

“I don’t want to take you home just yet,” he’d murmured outside of the restaurant, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand.

You hadn’t wanted to go home just yet either, not wanting this night to end.

“Okay.”

…and that was how you found yourselves parked in some abandoned field with Rafe on top of you in the back of his truck. A thick blanket was underneath you, and it was hard to remember how long you’d been kissing him. His tongue tasted the inside of your mouth and his hand was on your jaw. Every so often you’d lift your hips and he’d groan against your lips. Two weeks ago you had never said one word to him, and now here you were.

Rafe’s lips traveled to your neck, giving you a moment of reprieve, and you gasped for air. Your heart was racing in your chest, and you ran your fingers through his dirty blond strands, head thrown back. Every open mouthed kiss he left on your throat made your heart flutter, and you once again couldn’t believe that this was your life.

When his hand reached for the top of your dress, however, you reminded yourself that not only was this the first date, but that your mother was no doubt waiting up to make sure you made it home safe. As much as you wanted all of Rafe, the speed at which this had all progressed was definitely making your head spin.

“It’s getting late…”

Your words didn’t affect Rafe none, and you gasped when he nipped at the top of your chest.

“Rafe,” you said, reaching for him.

Only then did he pause, looking up at you from his position, and it took everything in you to keep your head on straight. The blond looked like he wanted to eat you alive, and that made your stomach twist in ways you weren’t used to.

“I think I should head home, now.”

He stared at you for too long to be comfortable, but he eventually moved.

“You want to go home?” he asked you, running his hand through his hair.

At your nod, it was like something in him shifted, and he became a lot more relaxed. His shoulders dropped, and he looked between your eyes, and Rafe appeared a lot more docile in the span of a second. It was crazy to witness the sudden shift, and in that moment you accepted that you had done this. There was nothing natural at all about any of this, and you swallowed, hating that you didn’t care.

Rafe was the perfect gentleman as he righted your dress and helped you down. The ride home was silent yet comfortable, his hand on your thigh the entire way, and every so often you felt his eyes on you. On the occasion you met his gaze, he always returned it with a smile. Rafe seemed happy to be here, so how awful could this really be?

You glanced down at the diamond bracelet on your wrist, recalling the shock you’d felt to find it inside the box of chocolates instead of candy. Rafe had said something about wanting to impress you when you brought it to the date, unable to find it in yourself to stop him when he took the box back before putting the jewelry on you himself.

You’d looked at him in a mixture of awe and worry. You should’ve accepted then that nothing about this was natural, but you were still in denial. After all, if what you did was actually real and all of this was the result of that, what did that make you? How far were you willing to take this?

Those questions were still on your mind when he walked you to your door, and again, Rafe was the perfect gentleman as he placed a kiss at the corner of your mouth. You stared after him as he walked back to his truck, tugging his jacket closer. You liked to think that you weren’t some horrible person, and you told yourself that you’d enjoy this for a little while longer before finding a way to undo what you’d done.

Rafe Cameron was your boyfriend, and you liked it.

You didn’t just like that he was your boyfriend, but you liked what that meant for you. You liked the privilege that came with the relationship. You liked walking into doors you would’ve never been able to walk through otherwise. You liked when he spent money on you and bought you the kinds of things you could only dream about owning.

…and the girls.

You liked the way they looked at you.

It didn’t take long for Rafe’s exclusiveness to become noticeable, for it to become apparent that the once ladies’ man and heavy partier had done a 180. Girls he used to spend every weekend with no longer got so much as a glance from him. Phone calls and texts went ignored before those numbers were eventually blocked altogether, and when you were out and about, it was clear that you were to blame.

Rafe was absolutely obsessed with you, and you relished in the way some of his former lovers looked at you.

You, who had never so much as had a single boyfriend, was now on the receiving end of the most envious looks you’d ever seen in your life. You knew that if any of those girls had access to the kind of magic you had, you would’ve been dead a long time ago. You were always overlooked by boys and barely even seen as a woman in their eyes, and now you were with Rafe Cameron and he looked at you like you hung the moon.

“I won’t lie…I definitely expected this to crash and burn,” Sarah admitted. “Through no fault of yours, of course.”

Kie snorted at that, and you took a sip of your drink.

“I’m serious,” she said, “He’s like a completely different person. Part of me wants to ask what you did, but another part of me is scared of the answer.”

Her and Kie thought that was funny, and you could only hold back your smile.

“He literally worships the ground you walk on,” Kie commented, slightly disgusted. “...and that’s the only reason the guys are even respectful about any of this.”

It was true.

Rafe gave into your every whim and he answered your every beck and call. Sometimes he felt more like a servant than a boyfriend, asking you what you needed and running you hot baths and kneading his fingers into your shoulders after you had a long day. With that kind of behavior, how could you deny him for much longer?

You hadn’t planned on sleeping with him, telling yourself it was a line you just couldn’t cross considering the circumstances, but it happened so seamlessly. One moment he was kissing your face and telling you how beautiful you were, and the next his fingers were inside of you and massaging your walls so good that it had you clinging to him.

Rafe was a man starved.

“I’ve never…” you had trailed off, somewhat embarrassed to admit to him your lack of experience.

Rafe had only grinned at you before kissing you.

“I feel honored,” he’d whispered against your lips. “To be your first and your last.”

His words had given you pause, but then he was pushing his cock into you, and your nails were digging into his skin, and they were forgotten.

You’d anticipated the pain, and that surely didn’t disappoint, but you hadn’t anticipated just how good it could feel. That honestly could've just been Rafe though. It’s not like he didn’t have a reputation, and you quickly realized that it was not without reason. His lips stayed on you the entire time you had sex, and it was just enough to not be overstimulating.

Every curve of his hips into yours had you gasping, and you were so happy that your parents wouldn’t be home for hours. Having him inside of you felt nothing like your fingers or his. It was a different experience entirely, and Rafe was ravenous as he fucked you and tasted you. One of his hands was behind your neck as he repeatedly pressed his lips to yours while the other was tight on your waist.

“Do you like that?” he whispered, and you could barely get a word out.

You could only nod, and that seemed to satisfy his curiosity, and you swore that you heard a low growl escape his throat as he stretched you around his cock. He looked down between you where you connected, his hair hanging onto his forehead, and you couldn’t hold in your moans. You’d been dating for months, but it was finally setting in.

Rafe Cameron was yours.

You’d daydreamt about it for years—harmless and silly fantasies—but now it was your reality. Rafe held your hand and kissed you and paraded you around town for all to see, making you the envy of just about every girl who’d ever so much as looked at him. He doted on you and called you beautiful and said all of the things and looked at you in a way you wanted him to for years.

…and now he was in your bed and making love to you and giving you your first experience.

You were on cloud 9, and you allowed yourself to bask in it. You threw your head back as he bit at your neck, and your chest arched up into his as he thrust into you. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him closer, and Rafe moaned at the action. It seemed like he wanted to be as close to you as possible too, and he slid his knees underneath your thighs.

“Rafe,” you sighed, breath hitching as he filled you to the hilt.

Every time he pulled his hips back, only the tip of him remained, and when he surged forward he filled you up again. It was driving you crazy in the best way, and your nails scraped down his back and arms. The blond hissed at the action, and his teeth grew rougher on your skin. You came around him once, but that wasn’t enough for him, and you swore that when you came around him for the third and final time, he told you he loved you.

Rafe was obsessed with you.

It was like once he had you, it was never enough. The first night you slept together blended into one long night. You came around him too many times to count, small naps in between, and he only left a few minutes before your parents came home, but you were sneaking him back in a few hours later as soon as they were asleep. He wouldn’t stop kissing you the moment he climbed through your window.

“Are you going to chew it for her too?” Sarah wondered one day when Rafe cut up your omelet for you.

Her tone was teasing, and you threw her an equally teasing glare, but Rafe hadn’t responded outside of a scathing look towards his sister. His behavior was glaringly obvious for all to see, and you couldn’t say you hated it. Your life had become a fairytale overnight, and you’d happily ate your food while he sat next to you, his seat so close to yours that his arm rested over your shoulder as he watched you eat.

“Honey, I’m just worried,” your mother had said another day. “It just seems like you spend all of your time with him these days and you hardly see your friends.”

Her concern was understandable, but you assured her that you were fine.

“I do see them,” you’d told her. “Rafe has just never gotten along with them too well, and it’s not like that’s changed now that we’re together.”

It wasn’t a complete lie.

Your friends were cordial with Rafe, now, and you appreciated that, but Rafe loved having you to himself. Any time you convinced him to be around your friends, it never lasted long before he was convincing you to sneak off with him somewhere, and the blond could be very persuasive. 

“Five more minutes,” he said to you in the middle of the night.

His head was between your legs and your thighs were aching from being bent so long and a thin layer of sweat covered your skin. Rafe’s fingers were pressed into you as he held you in place, and you shuddered when his breath blew along your folds. You’d never been this wet in your life, and you were scared to look at the time and see just how long he’d had his mouth and tongue against your cunt.

You were exhausted and out of breath and Rafe refused to let you go.

You told yourself that it was fine, that it was just what came with that honeymoon phase of every new relationship. Granted, it’s not like you would know, but you figured that things would calm down between you the longer you were together. A time would come where you were more normal about each other and he didn’t want to spend every waking moment on you or in you.

You thought that, at least, but you were woken up in the middle of the night a month later. The knocking on the door was incessant, and you’d thought that something was wrong, that some kind of emergency was happening. Your parents beat you to the door, and no one was more shocked or horrified than you to see that it was Rafe on the other side.

Your father glanced at you with the kind of anger you’d never been on the receiving end of, and your mother looked between you with a disturbed frown.

“Rafe?” you wondered in shock. “What…?”

“I had to see you,” was his only excuse, and you shrank under your father’s withering gaze.

“Dad, I… I don’t know what’s…”

Your words died in the air, unable to understand what was happening. However, despite how much he’d grown to like Rafe, you could see your father’s patience thinning. You hurried to deescalate something before it began, profusely apologizing to your parents as you told them you’d handle this.

“Something could be wrong,” you hurried to say to him. “Five minutes and then I’m inside.”

Your father didn’t say a word, but the way his mustache twitched told you enough. Your mother was the only one to linger a bit before eventually leaving too.

“Five minutes,” were her soft parting words.

Rafe’s hand was tight on yours as you forced him off of the porch, wide eyes on him.

“I wanted to see you,” he said, and you blinked.

“Is something wrong? Is it Sarah?” you worriedly asked him.

His scoff made your frown deepen.

“No, Sarah’s…fine,” he waved that off. “I was thinking about you and…I just had to see you.”

You stared at him for a long time, mouth falling open when you processed his words.

“You were thinking about me and you just had to see me? Rafe, it’s three in the morning. You woke up my parents—they have jobs they have to go to tomorrow,” you told him, voice rising in pitch.

“I wanted to see you,” he repeated. 

“I get that, but…this isn’t okay. You have to go home, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Technically you’d see him later on today, but that didn’t need to be pointed out.

“...but I don’t want to go home,” Rafe said with a frown, and you blinked at him.

“Rafe…”

“I’m not going home.”

His tone was strong with conviction, and you swallowed. You looked over your shoulder before glancing behind him. You didn’t see his truck, so you guessed that he’d parked it somewhere before sneaking over here. His hand was still tight on yours, and when you looked at him again, he hadn’t looked away from you once.

“I’ll meet you at my window…okay…?”

That was the right thing to say, and Rafe gave you a crooked smile before kissing you. You pulled away before it could become heated, and you hurried inside, sure that your five minutes was up. Your mother was in the hall as you locked the door, and you apologized to her several times before wishing her a good night.

Like you agreed on, Rafe was at your window when you shut your room door, and he didn’t hesitate to climb inside the moment you opened it.

“Rafe, my parents are home, okay? Do you understand what that means?”

The way you were talking to him felt strange.

“Of course,” he said with a nod and a small smirk. “I just wanted to see you.”

He kissed you again, arms wrapped around you, and you kissed him back after a while. His hold on you was tight, and when he broke the kiss, he briefly kissed your cheek.

“Just want to sleep next to you, tonight…”

His words made you less tense, and you felt your face soften as you separated. You helped him get undressed, only his boxers remaining, and you watched him slide into your bed after you. He didn’t give you any time before reaching for you and pulling you closer, and Rafe only seemed to relax when your head was comfortably on his chest.

You traced patterns into his skin, and you bit your lip as you told yourself this was nothing.

“Rafe,” you warned, but he didn’t hear you.

Or chose not to, it was hard to tell these days.

One of his hands was curved around your throat while the other held your wrists against the small of your back. The sound of skin slapping against skin was loud in the kitchen, and you squeezed your eyes shut from both the pleasure he was giving you and the nervousness that filled you. Rafe was getting harder and harder to say no to, and he didn’t seem keen on listening to your concerns when he started kissing you in his kitchen.

“No one’s home,” he’d said.

“...but they could walk through that door,” was your response.

“...but I need to be inside of you,” he replied.

The blond loudly groaned behind you as he filled you up, slowly pushing his cock into you as he held you down against the counter top. Every dip of his cock past your folds had you gasping, but despite how good it felt, you couldn’t stop worrying about someone walking through that door. Everyone was out, now, but it wouldn’t be the first time Rafe was inside of you in a not so private place when someone came home.

You’d never been caught yet, but you never liked to chance it.

He pulled you back until his chest was against you, and the strain in your arms made you wince. Rafe hummed, leaning over and pressing his lips to yours. You were dripping around him and the sound it made every time he pushed his cock into you was loud in the otherwise quiet room. You whimpered when he tightened his hold on your throat, and you both knew that he was the only thing keeping you upright.

This was the fifth time you’d had sex today.

You were worn out—and even a little sore—and it seemed that it was never enough for Rafe. He liked to get his hands on you at every opportunity, and what you thought was a honeymoon phase turned out to be something beyond that. Every day several times a day was the new normal for you, and when Rafe couldn’t be in you, he had to be with you and touching you in some way.

…and he was the only one allowed to.

You still thought about the boy whose arm he broke only last month for pulling out your chair. It was a terrifying and embarrassing debacle, one that was solved with a little bit of money from Rafe. You’d stared at him in horror, and he’d acted as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Or when he’d rammed his truck into Topper’s jeep, citing it as a drunken accident, but you knew better. You’d seen the look on his face when Topper gave you a hug goodbye.

Rafe was equally possessive as he was obsessive, and the more it escalated, the closer you were pushed to facing the truth.

Nothing about his behavior was normal or explainable, but you didn’t want to accept that this was your fault. When he snuck into your room in the early hours of the morning or when he picked out your clothes and put them on you or when he cut the brakes on some guy’s car who’d looked at you for too long for his liking.

You didn’t want to accept responsibility for any of this.

…but when you woke up in the middle of the night to find him staring at you in the darkness for the umpteenth time…you knew. You knew that this was all your fault, and you stared back at him with a sinking feeling in your heart. You’d played God, and you’d had your fun, but now you had to find a way to undo this.

“Kie…what happened to that book you bought a while back?” you asked her the next day when you finally had some time to yourself.

The other girl frowned at you, and you elaborated.

“You know, the one with the love spells and stuff.”

Her face evened out as she remembered.

“Oh, that thing? I tossed it,” she waved off.

You stared at her, stomach dropping.

“You what?”

Your tone must have given her pause because she looked at you.

“It was bullshit,” she shrugged. “Something somebody made when they were bored, because it’s not like it worked. Sarah’s hair is shorter now than it was then. I keep telling her she needs to just cut those split ends…”

The rest of Kie’s words were lost to you as you looked away, mind going a mile a minute as you thought about what you were going to do. You had long accepted that you did this to Rafe, and you’d told yourself you were only going to take it so far, but you’d loved being Rafe’s girlfriend and loved having him all to yourself as you’d always wanted. Now, you had him all to yourself, and you were terrified out of your mind.

“I was only at Kie’s for an hour,” you told the man in question later in the day.

His arms were wrapped around you from behind and his face was pressed into the crook of your neck.

“I know…but I missed you. I always miss you,” he murmured, kissing your skin.

“Do you ever think about why you miss me so much?”

“Because I love you,” he said to you as if you were silly for asking.

With difficulty, you pulled away from him, facing him. You looked into Rafe’s eyes with worry, and you noted that they were completely dilated. You pulled your lip between your teeth, at war with yourself.

“...but why do you love me? Do you ever think about that, Rafe—why you love me so much? Don't you think it came out of nowhere?”

The blond seemed to think on it for a minute.

“No,” he answered, and you frowned. “I woke up one day…and you were just there.”

You swallowed as he touched your cheek.

“...and I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and I had to have you and I did.”

You blinked at him.

“I always get what I want.”

He didn’t take his eyes off of you as he said that, and he grabbed your arm before you could take a step back. He threaded his fingers through yours, and he brought the back of your hand up to his lips. Rafe’s eyes held yours the entire time, the blue of them hardly visible, and the gravity of what you did finally settled on your shoulders.

“...and I’ll never not want you.”

You stared after your friends through the crowd, Rafe’s arm feeling like a weighted belt around you. There was hardly a difference between his arms and chains these days, and you forced yourself to look away from their fun. You hadn’t hung out with them in what felt like ages, and while Kie and Sarah assured you there was no hard feelings—seeing firsthand how needy Rafe could be—you still felt like shit in more ways than one.

“You okay? Are you cold?”

Rafe didn’t give you a chance to say no, already slipping out of his jacket. You accepted it with a small smile, and he returned it before giving you a heated kiss. His friends were used to his public displays of affection by now, but considering your relationship at the moment, you were beyond uncomfortable.

You needed to break up with Rafe…and you were terrified to do so.

Kie had thrown out that book, and everything you looked into that didn’t seem like some cheesy gimmick all basically said the same thing—you had to let it run its course. What did that even mean? Did it mean he’d eventually get tired of you? How long would that be? Did it mean you had to tell him the truth? Get him to break up with you? Break up with him?

In the beginning of all of this, you felt so…powerful. You’d snagged the Rafe Cameron, and you’d had him eating out of the palm of your hand and hanging onto your every word. You’d had other girls green with envy, and you'd been basking in all that came with being his girlfriend. Now, though?

Now, you were frazzled and drained. Rafe was fucking you and kissing you more often than he was not. You spent more nights at his house than your own despite what you wanted because he was going to get what he wanted regardless if your parents were home or not, and the Camerons were much more relaxed about certain things than your parents. He stuck to you like a shadow, even leaning against the door and talking to you when you had to go to the bathroom.

You never thought you’d long for the day when you could cut up your own food and dress yourself and speak for yourself. He was doting and sweet yes, but Rafe was also insatiable and violent and suffocating. It was driving you to your breaking point, and you were silent the entire ride home.

When you asked him to take you to your house, he obliged, but you should’ve known that he expected to come inside with you.

“Rafe, I…I think I want to be alone tonight.”

It was like he didn’t process your words, at all, staring at you with a blank look, and you sighed.

“My parents are going to be home in like an hour…”

Again…nothing.

You glanced away, feeling completely unnerved, before taking his hand. The corner of his lips curved upwards into a small smirk, and he walked you inside. Your thoughts seemed so loud in the quiet house as you considered what you had to do. There was no hesitation in Rafe as he walked towards your room, and you eventually followed him.

You pulled your lip between your teeth as you took off his jacket.

“Rafe…I don’t think that we should see each other anymore.”

It was the nicest way you could say it, and Rafe still looked at you like you’d told him the craziest thing. The snort that left him made your jaw clench, and you took a deep breath.

“I’m serious,” you said, voice shaking. “You’re not in love with me.”

“Of course, I am,” he fired back.

“No, you’re not. Rafe…”

You felt like you were going to be sick, and you were acutely aware of his heavy stare.

“I did something to make you love me.”

“I know you did,” he said with a smile, reaching for you.

“No!” you moved away from him. “I did something wrong, okay? I made you love me. I had a candle and I had some blood, and I made you feel how you feel about me…”

Rafe was frowning at you, now, and you hoped that he was getting it.

“Before this, you never even looked at me, Rafe. Remember? I was invisible to you—I was nothing! Nothing, and then you suddenly can’t stop thinking about me? I’m the only girl you want to be with? Doesn’t that seem odd to you?”

The room was silent as you just stared at him, gaze pleading as you hoped and prayed you got through to him. Rafe slowly blinked at you, and in a matter of seconds, you watched his expression shift. It was hard to place, but you knew that it made you uncomfortable, and a shiver crawled up your spine.

“What’s odd is you coming up with this nonsense—this bullshit—to try and leave me.”

You let out a sigh of defeat, pressing your hand to your forehead.

“Rafe, please hear what I’m saying–.”

“I hear you.”

“No, Rafe, no. This isn’t natural. I…I messed up,” you tearfully said. “I was wrong, and I shouldn’t have done it, but part of me didn’t think it would work and another part of me hoped it would, but now… I don’t know how to undo it.”

He was moving towards you, and you stumbled back.

“You’re not leaving me,” he quietly told you.

“Rafe, please hear what I’m saying. Please, fight it because I don’t…I don’t know how to make it stop,” you cried. “...but you’re so you, and you have to still be in there. You have to be!”

You felt like you were talking to a wall, and you pushed at his hands as he reached for you.

“Rafe, please,” you begged.

When his hand pulled at your shirt, tearing it, it was sinking in. 

There was no leaving him, no getting away, and you brought your knee up. You didn’t stay to see if he was okay, stumbling into the hall and running for the door. Your name was loud in the air as he shouted it, and it made you flinch. You were running past his truck when you heard the door bounce off of the wall, and tears blurred your vision as you ran across the yard.

You’d never run so fast in your life, but Rafe’s legs were longer—or he was simply more determined, fueled by something other to catch you—and he caught up with you sooner than you would have liked. You both fell to the ground, a grunt leaving you as he tightly held onto you. Your hands pulled at the grass to get away, ripping out a few blades as Rafe pulled you back.

You kicked at him, crying and screaming, and Rafe yanked you back so hard that it hurt your hands. One of his hands was tight in your hair, pulling your head back before slamming it back down. The action made you see stars, damn near knocking you out, and you groaned in pain. The sound of that seemed to trigger something in Rafe, and he let you go.

“I’m sorry, baby,” you heard him whisper, turning you over.

Your vision was spinning, and you could just barely make him out as he leaned over you.

“I’m sorry,” he quietly said to you, leaning in to press his lips to the corner of your mouth. “...but you can’t leave me.”

His hands were all over you, now, and you felt him press kisses to your chest, your shirt tearing some more to make room for them.

“I love you,” he breathed, kissing you. “...and you love me.”

You weakly pushed at his chest.

“Why would I let you leave me? Why would you want to?”

“Rafe…I’m sorry,” you mumbled, trying to sit up.

The blond shoved you back down, and your struggle continued.

“I forgive you,” he hummed, nipping at your skin and settling in between your legs.

“No, no….”

He thought you were apologizing for something else, and you couldn’t stop crying. You shoved at his face and tried to back away, but he gripped your wrists, moving his mouth against yours. The breeze from the water cooled your skin, and the clouds hid what little light there would’ve been from the moon. The sound of tearing fabric made your heart race, and you cried harder, unable to get him off of you.

Rafe moaned like a man starved when he finally managed to sheath himself inside of you, holding himself there with parted lips before pulling his hips back. One of his hands held your wrist to your stomach, and the other slid behind your head as he pulled you in for another kiss. The kiss was salty from your tears, but Rafe didn’t mind it.

He fucked you against the grass, unconcerned about where you were. If you didn’t know any better, he was more hungry for you now than he was the first night you slept together. His grunts and moans were loud in your ear, and you squeezed your eyes shut.

“What were you thinking, baby? Hmm?”

He slammed his hips against yours, letting your wrists go to reach underneath your thigh.

“Rafe,” you gasped, trying one last time to undo what you did. “This isn’t you.”

He only pushed your leg back, hungrily kissing at your jaw and neck and chest.

“Please, listen to me,” you sobbed.

Your words went ignored, and more tears fell as he thrust into you, losing himself in the feeling. His hand behind your head slid to your neck, and it tightened around your throat as he lifted his head to look at you. His blue eyes did not look away from yours once.

“If you try to leave me again,” Rafe quietly started, blond strands kissing your forehead. “I might have to lock you away until you come to your senses.”

He said it with a laugh, but you knew he was entirely serious, and you blinked back tears as he kissed you again.