Doll

Hii! Call me lily or pup , im 19 !

Still a new writer on here xx,

Cw: past physical abuse

The front door slammed so hard that the windows rattled and You flinched automatically

Rafe barely looked at you as he stomped into the house, tossing his truck keys onto the counter with enough force that they skidded across it not caring where it landed

“Baby you are back” your enthusiasm was cut by his cold behavior , not taking even a small glance of you he painfully ignored you 

Your gut feeling was screaming at you that something was wrong , what did you do this time? Will it be another beating? Will he take all of his anger on you

“You were out today right ?” he demanded

“I…” Your fingers tightened around the sleeves of your hoodie. “I was meeting with my friend its just a-another girls cafe d-date”

“And you didn’t tell me.”

“I did” you flinched when he suddenly started laughing at you 

His laugh was cold.

“You always do this. You make me ask the same damn questions.”, Your stomach twisted

“I-I went to the marina. I texted you.”

“You texted me twenty minutes after I called.”

“My phone was—”

“I don’t care.”

The room went quiet.

You hated when he got quiet.

It always meant he was about to say something worse, at it usually accompanied with a hit in your face 

He stepped closer until there was barely any space between you and gently removed the hand you instinctively rises to protect your face

“I tell you one thing,” he said, voice low, “and somehow you still screw it up.”

“You always do this”

“Im tired from your boring empty brain”

And his words feel like a dagger going through your heart unable to defend yourself 

“I’m sorry” is all what you managed to say

“There it is.” Then His jaw clenched

“‘I’m sorry.’” Again and again as You looked down at the floor. “I said I’m sorry…”

“I know what you said.” Rafe barked at you  His tone was sharper this time his hand instantly caught your hair in a death grip

“I’m sick of hearing it, im sick of you , i tell you to do one thing and you ignore what i tell you are you trying to provoke me ??”

Your eyes burned his hand tearing through your scalp his sharp eyes staring at you like you just murdered his family 

“I didn’t mean to make you mad” you quietly whispered as his grip on your hair slowly stopped

“You don’t have to mean it. You just do.” He told you as he left you and turned his back against you

You could feel your heartbeat in your throat, You always tried so hard, You answered every call, You canceled plans because he didn’t feel like letting you go and even, You apologized even when you weren’t sure what you’d done.

Because every time you thought things were getting better They somehow got worse

Rafe rubbed a hand over his face like he was exhausted “You know what’s funny?”

You shook your head

“I keep expecting you to grow a backbone.”His words landed harder than you expected

“But you never do.”

You blinked rapidly, trying not to cry, “I’m trying.”

“No.” He looked at you with that same unreadable expression he’d been wearing all evening.

“You’re clinging, You follow me around like I’m all you’ve got”, He nodded once.

You waited for any response for any sign of hope but He didn’t say it back, Instead…

“I’m done.”

You frowned

“…What?”

“I’m done.”

“What do you mean?” Your chest tightened

“I mean this.”

He gestured lazily between the two of you.

“You and me.”

And Your face drained of color.

“No…”

“I’m breaking up with you.”

It felt like the room tilted.

“No.”

“It’s over.”

“No.” You took one shaky step toward him. “Please don’t say that.”

“I’m saying it.”

“You don’t mean it.”

“I do.”

“You don’t.”

He let out a frustrated sigh.

“This is exactly why.”

Tears spilled down your cheeks.

“I’ll do better.”

“I don’t want you to.”

“I’ll change.”

“I don’t want that either.”

You grabbed the sleeve of his shirt without thinking.

“Please…”

His eyes dropped to your hand.

Then back to your face.

“Let go.”

Your fingers refused.

“I said…”

His voice turned icy and his stare got intense and his hand was raised up already in the air 

“Let.”

You slowly let go afraid of what is coming 

He took one step back.

Then another.

“I can’t keep babysitting you.”

Every word hurt worse than the last.

“I need someone who doesn’t fall apart every time I walk away.”

He headed for the door and You followed instinctively.

“Rafe…”

He stopped without turning around.

“…Don’t call me and pack your shit and leave by next Friday “ “i dont want any trace of you”

The words were quiet, Final

He opened the door then Walked out.

And this time, He didn’t look back as The front door clicked shut The house felt impossibly silent

You stood there for what felt like forever, staring at the space where he’d been, as if waiting for him to come back in and tell you it was another one of his cruel jokes

But he never did

As months pass The only thing left behind was the echo of the door closing and the realization that, for the first time, he had actually walked away 

basically everything i write here is based on my experience with actual real men , as an abuse victim who got cheated on (twice by two different men lol) this blog is like my safe space to let out all of my trauma and pain i stored inside of me

part one

cw : this contains dark topics dont like dont read i will be deleting negative comments

Time doesn’t fix anything, It just teaches you how to live around the damage this is your life now.

You learn survival in pieces like shelters that smell like it had been abandoned for centuries , borrowed couches, even begging your manger to let you and your baby sleep at your workplace after it’s closed , uncomfortable sleepless nights where you totally aren’t scared to close your eyes

Your baby grows fast, a cute little baby boy who unfortunately resembles the man who was responsible for this , with your growing haterd and frustration towards rafe you always made sure your baby felt all the warmth and need, even with a constant reminder of a man who planned to your ruin your life.

Then there’s your new manger at work , a cute ginger girl in her mid 20s ,You meet her somewhere meant for work, not love, you absolutely felt drawn to her at the first glance , when she first heard your story and how rafe fucked up your life she somewhat felt empathetic towards you, letting you stay at home and sometimes taking care of your baby while you pass put from working 12 hours shift 

You always compare her to rafe.

She’s gentle in a way that feels unreal at first She never raises her voice unlike him Never touches you without asking unlike him She listens like really listens to you truma dumbing on her when the nights turn sharp and the memories crawl back up your throat

For a while, it works. You build something small but real. A cramped apartment. Shared nights pacing the floor with the baby. A life that doesn’t demand obedience just presence.

But control leaves fingerprints

A dog who cant live without his owner

You miss him even after the hell he put you through 

Some nights, you wake up from dreams flinching bracing for punishment, for a smack in your ass or ypur haor being pulled dragged down the bed , For cold silence, For a voice telling you what you did wrong and scolding you like a child ,Instead, there’s steady breathing beside you , a little baby sounds still bringing you hope and the distant sound of traffic. It should comfort you but you yearn back to the time where you would wake up with a strong masculine arms glued to you 

The first message from Rafe comes months later 

At work.

At first you didn’t pay attention thinking it was a random massage from about your late phone bill or something but no 

His name was glowing on your screen almost mocking you, No apology. No explanation.

Just three words.

“You look tired”

Your hands shake so badly you almost drop the phone looking around you like a manic suddenly feeling like a prey being watched by a predator your knees were threatening to give up on you 

You don’t reply. You tell yourself that throughout your entire shift it just a stupid message it means something he still thinks he can control you but little does he know that  he doesn’t own you anymore

Then the gifts start Diapers delivered without a name at your manger house Cash slipped under the door A baby blanket soft, expensive, unmistakably something that only him can buy then he starts sending you clothes , underwear even lingerie delivered to a stranger house..

Your manger notices at first completely weirded out about how suddenly your baby has more than three onesies, and you woth a brand new designer dress

“Do you know who this is from?” she asks carefully, like she’s already suspecting of the answer, You shake your head. You lie easily now. Survival taught you how

That night, you dream of Rafe’s hand on your wrist tight, not gentle, just to remind you he’s there, you arched your back in your sleep thinking about his hard cock ramming into you while his other hand pinches your sensitive clit 

You wake up breathless, heart racing, your baby’s arm loose on your chest 

Even tho Rafe haven’t touched you in almost a month , you feel him everywhere.

“I could make this easier”

Another text that You delete it. Then check the trash. Then stare at the empty space where it was, Your manger starts noticing the way you flinch when your phone buzzes. The way you go quiet when money is mentioned. The way your eyes drift to the door like you’re waiting for someone to come claim you.

“You don’t have to do this actually ,” she says one night. “Whatever this is.” You nod. You even cry you can’t tell her whats is happening how rafe is abusing you mentally even though he is even not here but you still don’t tell her the truth, Because the truth is ugly The truth is that Rafe never asked you to come back he is just bored and what to humiliate you more, He doesn’t have to you already have nothing to lose

He sends reminders instead. Subtle ones. A lawyer’s card slipped into your bag at the grocery store. A note about custody laws you didn’t know. A message at 2 a.m.

“ You know I’d never let my kid struggle.”

“ I would see you and my kid whether you want it or not little thing “

“ what kind of a person are you to not let daddy see his baby ?”

Your chest tightens at the word my,He knows exactly where to press. Exactly what you fear. Exactly how tired you are.

The last message comes on a night when the baby won’t stop crying and the bills are stacked on the counter and your manger long gone out of the town to visit her sick relatives 

“If you head back to our place again you won’t worry your little head about a thing again little one”

No threat. No demand, Just the promise of an ending you already understand

And you do

You pack your and your baby stuff into a huge suitcase that HE bought it for you , with your baby on your arm your suitcase on the other arm  you glanced one last time at your manger home , even if you love her, that woman didn’t deserve the drama Rafe would eventually drag you and her into,  you never saw anything bad from her , you knew gotta move on from this one sided crush for her own good ,

You do head back because at the end of, he gets what he wants whether you like it or not , rafe has you as a toy between his fingers he can stomp on you , chew you then spit you out then you would come back to him again like nothing happened because you were in love with him 

You remembered how you were a freshly 18 years old whom only knew rafe in a new town that you moved into when your parents kicked you out ,

he was your first love, first kiss, first person ever touching you

When you arrived you were surprised the gates were already open as if he knew you would be here at the end of the day ,He stood at the door waiting for you and your baby already up in the middle of the night waiting for you , it was the first meeting with rafe and his child after 3 months 

Rafe is waiting inside like he never left. Like this was inevitable. He doesn’t rush you. He doesn’t smile. He just watches as you step in, baby pressed tight to your chest, like you’re trespassing on something that still belongs to him.

“You took longer than I thought,” he says calmly.

Your throat tightens. “I didn’t come to—”

“You did,” he interrupts, voice sharp now. “You always do.” “And dont wake him up , put him in his crib in the room next to us then come back” 

Rafe didn’t even raise his eyes from the baby , not even meeting your eyes, your heart was beating loudly you were sure he could hear it as you made your way back to him 

“You really let my kid live like that? For fucks sake I could see his bones were you too busy shoving your used pussy in some other guys  face instead of taking care of my baby?” he asks softly, The words hit harder than a shout.

“What no no no I would never do this ,” you whisper. “I kept him safe.” Your voice trembled his accusation hurt more than the months you spent homeless on the streets 

Rafe laughs under his breath and steps closer. Too close. His presence crowds you the way it always did, forcing you to tilt your head back to look at him his hands wrap around your caging you to him

“Safe?” he repeats. “Homeless. Struggling. Depending on strangers.” His raises his hand in the air , not planning on hitting you yet but to remind you how easily he could control the space between you. “That’s what you call safe?”

You flinch instantly He notices

“Still jumpy,” he murmurs. “Guess I trained that into you pretty well.” 

“My dog is still well trained i see”

Shame burns hot in your chest as your tears slip over like a fountain He knows it. He always knows.

“You left,” you say, voice shaking. “You did this.”

Rafe’s expression hardens instantly his hand now around your neck as the other held your wrist tightly 

“No,” he snaps. “You did. I just finished it.”

“You don’t get to make choices that risk my child,” he says quietly. “So I’m correcting that.”

Your heart pounds. Loudly as your sobs fill the room “Rafe… please.”

He looks at you then really looks and his mouth curves into something cruel and satisfied “This?” he says. “This is the lesson.”

He steps closer again, you gasped as you were lifted from the ground thrown over his shoulder like a child , your legs immediately wrapped around his waist , you could see very well where is he headingTo the bedroom 

Rafe opened the door of your past shared bedroom ,still the same when he kicked you out for no reason and then threw you on the bed no caring where you landed 

“You thought you could build a life without me,” he continues. “Thought you’d get love without consequences.” His voice drops, intimate and sharp. “That was adorable.”, Tears sting your eyes. He doesn’t wipe them away.

“You come back when you’re ready to obey,” he says. “When you remember who keeps you alive.” 

Rafe was now taking off his shirt, his bare chest visible to you , instantly your cunt felt empty ,remembering how hot he is you felt as if there is a waterfall down there, when he took of his pants you almost let out a gasp of surprise his dick popped out as it was let free , pulsing like it has a mind of his own, standing hard and red , ready to tear you apart 

Rafe crawled back into the bed flipping you immediately on your stomach, you let out a scream as your head you shoved into the pillow and a hard painful unexpected slap landed on your clothed ass check, it took you by surprise to the point you wanted to run away 

Rafe then teared open your worn out dress leaving you exposed to him totally, your wet pussy smell filled the entire room 

“Oh no were you planning for this little whore?” Rafe said as he spread open your ass cheeks , your cunt glistening wet “of course a whore like you wouldn’t waer underwear expecting it anytime “ 

Rafe shoved his fingers inside your mouth silencing you when you tried to defend yourself almost chocking you 

“Make them nice and wet little one, because this is all the lube that you will have” 

Your heart almost dropped? Lube? What would he need that for ??  You never tried anything anal in your life

You worst fears came alive when you felt his other hands spreading open your ass checks toying with your tight asshole he was planning on ripping iy open.

“Figured out since you were probably outside whoring your self for a place to stay i need to claim another virgin hole again “ rafe shoved two fingers up your ass not even waiting for your response 

You let out a uncomfortable moan as his fingers stretched you open , the pain felt surreal like a when he took your virginity all over again 

Your moans we’re starting to get loud but he shoved a random piece from the torn dress in your face to shut you up as he opens you for the first time 

Slowly you felt him withdraw his fingers and now his tip is touching your rim, you were shaking uncontrollably he was slowly sliding his dick inside of you 

The pain felt surreal , the foreign object up there made you scream it felt worse than period cramps, its like he was splitting you open 

“And don’t get it twisted,” he adds as he was thrusting inside your walls . “I didn’t take you back because I missed you.”

He leans in, lips brushing your ear enjoying hearing your sobs

“I took you back because you’re mine to correct.”

Rafe kept thrusting into you like a beast not caring about the loud noise that you both were making his only goal to make you feel every inch of it 

Then your phone rang…

Unlucky for you it was thrown on the bed next to rafe , he slowed down as he he picked up your phone and saw who is calling your…

You were half expecting him to freak out and kick you again for having your manger number and saved on your phone with her name and a red heart next to it, but he did something unexpected 

“Hello?” Rafe actually answered as he was fucking you, your eyes shoot open as you heard her voice he was answering her with the speaker on he was actually doing this 

“Umm I don’t know who the fuck is this but why is she gone ? I came home unexpectedly just to find her gone…. I really dont know i heard her babyda…”

“She is fine” rafe cut her as he thrusted one hard sharp thrust that made you cry out load in the pillow hoping she wont hear you 

“Oh… uhmm just tell her that i i im checking up pn her and if she needs any help im more than happy” you could hear the embarrassment in her voice she must have sensed that she called in the wrong time

“she won’t be coming she made her mind and returned to where she belongs “ rafe breathed heavily as he was speaking to make sure she wont interrupt again

Warning: this is NAWT a happy ending…

Rafe Cameron didn’t confront you the way people she thought he would. There was no shouting, no slammed doors, no shattered windows and no dramatic reveal

He simple waited for you

He let you come home thinking you were safe

You promised him it was night out with girls, wich in fact was really true 

You didn’t know what happened? Was it the liquor in your system? Or simply the tight crowded space pressuring you into committing such a horrible act? 

You didn’t feel it until your realized your lips was on her , your legs straddling hers, laid up in a random couch in the back of the club , her lips nibbling on the delicate skin of your throat while her other hands played with your clit 

You simply didn’t think about rafe not when her tongue was between your legs anyway you were into girls more

You found him sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, her phone in his hand. The room felt smaller instantly, like the walls had leaned in to listen His head tilted when he looked up at you 

, eyes calm in a way that made her stomach drop

He found out , he always found out everything found it way back to him at the end

“Sit,” he said

 Not asking he Said, his voice sharp as a knife slicing through the room suffocating silence

And you did

Rafe scrolled once, twice, the video played in the background you can clearly hear your moans and whimpers absolutely no way to deny it 

He then locked the screen and set it aside carefully, like he didn’t want to scratch the surface. He stood, slow and deliberate, until she had to crane her neck to look at him.

“You didn’t even try to hide it,” he said softly. “That’s the part that hurts.”

You mouth opened. Apologies rushed forward, tangled and useless. He silenced you by placing two fingers under her chin, forcing her to look at him.

“I didn’t say whores could talk.”

Your breath hitched? A whore? He called you what? Your eyes filled with tears and throat burned as his grip tightened He simply watched it happen

Enjoyed it.

For a long moment, he just stared at you, thumb pressing slightly harder, testing how much pressure it took to make you flinch. Then he smiled lazy, intimate, dangerous one

“You wanna fix this?” he murmured. “You’re gonna do exactly what I say.”

And you nodded, because you always did because did you ever have an opinion?

Publicly, Rafe took you back like a king granting mercy. He pulled you close at parties, hand heavy on your hip, fingers digging in just enough to remind you who you belonged to. When people looked at you too long, his grip tightened, possessive and wordless

Behind closed doors, he rewrote your miserable life.

You stopped choosing your clothes. He laid them out instead. Shorter skirts that barley covered your ass  , revealing tank tops with almost all of your cleavage hanging out, its like simply he wanted attention, 

He wanted to humiliate you

To let everyone look at you with lustful eyes like a man showing off a freshly caught tuna 

He decided when you slept, always before him , when you ate, when you left the house. Your location always turned on other wise you will actually regret it according to his words 

He will always know and if he found out he will make sure to teach you a very hard lesson this time 

If you disobeyed, he didn’t yell he withdrew from you, Cold silence that stretched until she broke first, He liked it when you begged

The nights were now worse. Or better. You never knew which

Rafe touched you like he owned you, slow and deliberate, guiding you exactly where he wanted you, reminding you in low murmurs that you were lucky he still wanted a cheater at all. That no one else would take a used cheater back after what you had done

“Look at you,” he’d whisper against your ear. “Still mine. No matter what.” , It felt like love if you didn’t think too hard

Weeks turned into month, you stopped tracking your period , missed after missed , untill you finally decided to face your biggest fear

The test glowed in your hands 

Two lines

When you told him you were pregnant, your hands shook so badly you  almost dropped the test.

Rafe started at the two lines for a long time , you expected atleast a scolding from him for how careless you were but to your surprise he laughed softly 

A delicate never seen before smile was on his face ,Rafe’s reaction was immediate and terrifying in its calmness 

He stared. Then he exhaled through his nose, a quiet sound that might have been a laugh. He stepped forward, one hand settling on your stomach, possessive and heavy.

“Wow,” he said. “You really went all in.”

Your voice trembled. “We can… we can figure it out. Together.”

Rafe leaned down, lips brushing your temple. “Oh, sweetheart,” he murmured. “I already did.”

For a while, he played devoted. He told you to quit your job Said you didn’t need it Took your cards “for safety.” Moved you further away from anyone who might help you He spoke about the baby like it was a chain , binding, permanent.

“You’re not going anywhere now,” he’d say with a smile. “You ruined that chance yourself.”

But then the affection stopped.

He stopped touching you unless it was to correct you with his hand. Stopped defending you Stopped coming home some nights , you knew where he was 

You were watching all of his instagram stories with girls all over him touching him wayy too inappropriate for a “friend “

Finally When you cried to him how he was killing you alive he watched with distant amusement, like he was observing an experiment reaching its final stage

One evening, he came home late, smelling like someone cheap fragrance his shirt all missed up and a few scratches peaking from under his shirt 

You finally asked the question you had  been choking on for weeks

“Are you leaving me?”

But Rafe laughed actually laughed like he heard the most silly joke ever 

“God, you really don’t get it,” he said, shrugging out of his jacket. “I already won.”

Your heart pounded in your chest “What does that mean?”

He stepped closer, eyes dark and sharp. “You cheated. You broke the rules. I made sure you paid for it in a way you’ll never escape.” These words settled like poison

“You don’t get to walk away clean,” he continued. “I do.”

Two days later, you woke up to find your bags packed and waiting by the door. His side of the closet was empty.His number said not available at the moment 

Tannyhill’s gates stayed closed.

By the time your stomach rounded, you were sleeping wherever you could find , Friends stopped answering you didn’t even have money to head back to your parents house

Your name was turned into a rumor “Rafe’s crazy ex” that was saying he got her pregnant then dumped her

He made sure of it.

You saw him once more as you were entering your last trimester, months later on your part time job as a waitress 

On the beach, Laughing , Free

He didn’t look at you as you were serving, he knew you would be here , he made sure to visit the place you were working at exactly at your shift so you get to see him 

To see how this could’ve been you on his lap while he was feeding you expensive tasty food , but now your ruined it by simply being a lustful whore

Your fingers grabbed the plate you were serving hardly as you heard a few whispers from the crowd around him

“ is this her?” 

“She looks rough no way rafe would hit that”

“Im telling you she must have got pregnant from another dude and wanted to babytrap rafe man!”

Slowly blinking the tears that blurred your eye sight you caught a glimpse of rafe one last time , and he was looking at you, a hint of anger and guilt in his eyes for a split second before turning into his usual frat boy expression 

You gave birth in a random hospital that asked too many questions

The baby cried, small and helpless, and you held them with shaking hands, realizing the truth all at once, This wasn’t a mistake, It was a sentence

Rafe Cameron had never planned to forgive you, He’d planned to own your own future and then leave you buried under it

And as you walked out into the cold with nowhere to go, baby pressed to your chest, you now understood the most brutal part of all

He doesn’t need to stay to control you, He is already already doing it 

Im backkk … please give me some good ideas or reqs open

going through the worst writers block rn 😩your girl just found put her man was cheating on her (dw he got replaced )

rafe has fun with reader (cw)

You didn’t hear the front door open.

Your focus stayed on the slow, measured movements of the youtube video Infront of you in your laptop focusing on completing your routine, palms pressed into the soft, expensive mat Rafe insisted on buying so you’d have no excuse to go anywhere else Your breath steadied, nails—freshly done, glossy white French tips catching the afternoon light each time you stretched forward.

That made you feel a little like your old self. the tension that built up between your thighs whenever you opened them so hard almost made you cry, the one who had a job, friends, plans your own place even if its was cramped and old even if your old job barley payed you even if your friends still even remember to have any contact with you

he convinced youagain and again that the world was “too much” for you, that you were “better off here,” that he was the only one who really understood you

You didn’t notice Rafe standing in the doorway.

He did notice you.

Freshly showered, hair damp at the ends, wearing that pink workout set he bought you—his eyes dragged over you with a heat that was sudden and sharp, Something in him tightened. Not soft, not sweet. Possessive. Hungry in a way he’d never admit out loud.

You were still counting breaths when his voice finally cut through the quiet.

"what are the fuck are doing"

You startled slightly, glancing over your shoulder. “I...I was just practicing, yo..you said you liked when I kept busy.”

“Didn’t hear me come in.” Not a question. More like a warning.

he glanced over you while you were doing the frog pose

to you , it was just a stretching technique it may look ridiculous to anyone who saw you while you were doing it but you never really looked at it in any sexual way

you legs were bent behind you ,your ass spread , your legs started to hurt from spending a long time pressed in this position

He scoffed, stepping inside, gaze never leaving you. “Yeah. Didn’t say you could look like that while doing it.” he emphasized on the word that

to rafe it was an open invitation , he didnt really need to ask , but this was like dinner served to him on a gold plate after a long day outside you turned him the fuck on

You blinked, confused. “Like what?”

Rafe’s jaw flexed. He walked around you slowly, deliberately until he was close enough that you could feel the drop in the air between you.

“Like you forgot who you’re doing all this for.”

Your stomach tightened. “I’m not ...Rafe, I wasn’t trying to—”

His eyes dipped to your hand as you brushed your hair behind your ear, your nails gleaming. That same flicker went through him again, sharper this time. Want twisted together with something darker, something territorial.

“You get your nails done today?”

You nodded cautiously. “Yeah. You said I could.”

“I said,” he murmured, stepping closer, “you could go if you came straight back.”

“I did,” you whispered.

He looked at you for a long moment your flushed cheeks from the workout, the delicate arch of your hand, the soft rise and fall of your chest and something in him shifted, like gravity pulling tight.

“…Good,” he breathed, though his voice carried an edge that made it impossible to tell whether he was pleased or furious. “Because I don’t like being kept waiting.”

You didn’t know what he meant by that.

But the way he looked at you made your heartbeat stumble.

Rafe reached out, brushing his thumb over the curve of your polished fingertip—slow, deliberate, claiming and his breath hitched just barely, like he hadn’t expected the touch to affect him.

"get up now " You noticed then, The change in him.

The heat under his skin. you stayed on the grounds on your knees looking up at him

The way his gaze dragged over you like he had just walked in the door and discovered something he suddenly couldn’t get enough of.

“What’s with the breathing, huh?” he murmured, voice low as he circled you again, fingertips brushing along your shoulder like he was checking to see how easily you flinched. “You act like you weren’t expecting me.”

“I wasn’t,” you said softly. “You usually text.”

“Yeah,” he replied, leaning in close enough that his breath brushed the back of your neck, “and you usually come running when I do.”

Your fingers curled in your lap. He noticed that too.

Rafe crouched down in front of you, resting his elbows casually on his knees like he had all the time in the world. His eyes dragged over you with a slow, deliberate hunger that wasn’t physical so much as… claiming. Like he was cataloging every piece of you he considered his.

“You look real pretty right now,” he said. “All put together. Quiet. Obedient.”

Your cheeks warmed. You looked away.

He clicked his tongue.

“Hey.” Two fingers gently took your chin, guiding your gaze back to his. Not rough just firm enough that there was no mistaking the message. “Don’t look away when I’m talking.”

“Rafe…” you whispered.

“What?” His voice was soft, mocking, dangerous. “You embarrassed? You shouldn’t be. You do this on purpose.”

“I don’t—”

“You do.” He leaned closer. So close you could see the flicker of lust in his eyes

“You do your little exercises on that fancy mat I bought. You get your nails done all nice. your pretty face full of makeup and You walk around this house like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing to me.”

Your breath hitched again, involuntary, and that that made his smile sharpen.

“There it is,” he murmured, tapping lightly under your chin. “That little shake. The one you get when I’ve got you cornered.”

You swallowed.

Rafe straightened slowly, towering over you, voice dropping lower.

“Go on,” he said. “Stand up.”

You hesitated.

His brow lifted barely, but the warning was unmistakable.

“…Stand up for me.”

You rose to your feet, pulse thrumming.

“Good girl.”

Two words. Soft. But dripping with dominance, Enough to make your knees weaken just a little.

He saw it, He definitely saw it.

Rafe leaned close, lips nearly brushing your ear.

“See?” he whispered , His fingers ghosted down your arm barely there, just enough to make your breath catch again.

The newsroom was always busy. Phones rang, printers churned, Lois shouted across desks, and Perry White stormed around like a commander keeping his soldiers in line. But none of it mattered, not really, because ever since you’d started your internship at the Daily Planet, Clark Kent found it harder to hear any of it.

He’d always been careful—too careful, perhaps. Living a double life required it. Clark was meticulous about control, about restraint, about hiding parts of himself from the world. But then you arrived with your notebook clutched nervously in your hand, your eyes full of questions and fire, and suddenly restraint became the hardest thing he’d ever attempted.

You didn’t notice at first. You smiled shyly when he offered to show you how the newsroom systems worked. You thanked him when he slid you a coffee, just the way you liked it, before you’d even had time to tell him your preferences. You teased him when his tie inevitably loosened as the day stretched long. And each moment left him with a gnawing warmth low in his chest that he tried to bury.

Because Clark Kent aka Superman was not supposed to feel dangerous about anyone. Not supposed to want someone with the kind of intensity that made his hands curl into fists under his desk just to keep from reaching for you.

It was late one evening when the office finally thinned out. Lois had gone home, jimmy too. You stayed behind, typing furiously at your desk, determined to polish your article before the deadline. Clark lingered near the windows, pretending to be absorbed in the city lights but really watching you.

“Still here?” His voice was warm, deeper than usual in the quiet of the newsroom.

You looked up, cheeks flushed from concentration. “Almost finished. I just… I want this one to be perfect.”

Clark walked over, placing a large hand on the edge of your desk, leaning down just enough that you felt the weight of his presence. He never crowded, not quite—but his nearness was unmistakable.

“You push yourself too hard,” he murmured, a low timbre that stirred something in your stomach. “You need rest.”

You smiled, half-defiant. “And you don’t?”

His lips curved, but his eyes—behind the glasses—held something sharper, something that pinned you in place. “I can handle more than most. You can’t. Not yet.”

The words weren’t cruel. They were careful, precise, commanding. And in that moment, you felt yourself yielding, closing your laptop despite wanting to argue. His authority wasn’t loud—it was quiet, controlled, and impossible to resist.

You started noticing things after that.

The way Clark always walked on the outside of the sidewalk when the two of you left the building together. The way his large hand hovered just a fraction behind your back in a crowd, protective but never quite touching—though you wished it would.

The way he looked at you sometimes, glasses slipping down his nose, gaze steady and unreadable. It made your chest tighten. It made you want to misbehave just to see what he would do.

One evening, a storm knocked the power out in the Planet’s archives. You were trapped there, clutching your phone flashlight, when Clark appeared, calm as ever, a candle in hand.

“You shouldn’t be down here alone,” he said firmly, setting the candle on the desk. The shadows carved his face into something impossibly sharp, and for a second, you swore you saw a flicker of something—raw want and alien .

“I'm fine,” you whispered, though your voice betrayed you.

“No,” Clark replied, stepping closer until your back brushed against the filing cabinet. His height swallowed the dim light, surrounding you. “You arent .”

Your breath caught. His hand lifted—slow, deliberate—and brushed a strand of hair from your cheek. The gentleness nearly undid you, but his eyes stayed locked on yours, steady, unwavering.

“Be more careful,” he ordered softly, and though the words were quiet, they thrummed with dominance. You nodded before you could think.

For all his commanding presence, Clark was just as tender. He brought you lunch when you forgot to eat, coffee when your eyelids sagged, even his jacket when the office air conditioner left you shivering.

But there was something deeper in the way he cared for you, something that went beyond kindness. It was structured, attentive, deliberate. When he told you to drink water, you drank. When he said it was time to leave, you packed your bag. It should have felt controlling. Instead, it felt safe.

You began to realize he was guiding you—setting boundaries, steadying your chaos with his order. You leaned into it without question, craving the certainty in his voice, the way his dominance never crushed but instead held.

Every night, Clark went home and told himself this had to stop. That you were human and fragile, that he was something else entirely. That his feelings for you—deep, protective, possessive—were dangerous.

And yet every morning, he came back to the Planet, searching for you with a kind of desperation he could never admit.

His secret crush wasn’t harmless. It was heavy, consuming, enough to bend steel if he let it. He thought he could control it, keep it buried beneath the quiet, bumbling mask of Clark Kent. But sometimes, when you smiled up at him and let him guide you, when you trusted him without hesitation, he knew , One day you’d see him—not just the mild-mannered reporter, not even the hero in the cape. You’d see the man who wanted you, who wanted to protect, guide, and claim you.

Moonlight spilled through the pine canopy, illuminating patches of the forest floor. You ran—barefoot, wild-eyed, your breath catching as twigs snapped underfoot.

Behind you, Rafe Cameron’s low, amused growl echoed through the trees.

“You can’t outrun me, baby.”

It wasn’t a threat. It was a promise.

Your heart pounded like a war drum. Every part of you—body, instinct, fear, thrill—told you to keep moving. But a part of you wanted to be caught. Needed it.

The chase was his favorite part.

You made it barely ten feet before he was on you—tackling you into the soft moss with a force that knocked the wind from your lungs. His hand curled around your throat, not squeezing—just there, a reminder.

“You really thought you could run?” he rasped, breath hot against your ear. His knee pinned your thigh down, while the other spread your legs, caging you like prey.

Rafe’s fingers gripped your jaw, forcing you to meet his eyes.

“You’re mine. Mine to hunt. Mine to break. Mine to ruin.”

His voice was low, raw with possessive hunger. You shuddered beneath him, body betraying you, arching toward the pressure.

That made him smile—wolfish, cruel.

“I love when you pretend to fight. But you want this. You want me to take you apart.”

You whimpered, the sound pitiful, but honest.

He leaned in, dragging his teeth along your neck, not biting yet—just teasing, taunting, drawing it out. He knew exactly how to make you squirm, how to make you beg without ever saying the word.

Then came the bite—sharp, sudden, marking.

You gasped.

“That’s right,” Rafe murmured. “Little deer caught in the jaws.”

His hands trailed over your body, claiming, bruising, worshipping in the only way he knew—by owning. Every touch carried fire, every press of skin a reminder: you were his obsession, his prize, and his plaything all at once.

And the worst part?

You loved it.

A/N: sorry my fics getting shorter and i dont post often my ed is getting really bad :(

You didn’t mean to cry in front of him.

But the second those two pink lines showed up on the cheap drugstore test, your knees buckled, and now you were sitting on the edge of Rafe’s bed — knees tucked under your chin, hoodie swallowed around your body like it could shield you from the truth.

He stared down at you, arms crossed, jaw locked.

“You’re not serious,” he said flatly. “That’s not even possible. We were just messing around.”

“I—I told you,” you whispered, voice cracking. “I said we should use something and you said—”

Rafe’s hand snapped out, grabbing your chin—not hard, but firm enough to shut you up. His icy blue eyes locked on yours.

“I said it’d be fine,” he growled. “You’re acting like I left you out on the street.”

Your lip trembled.

He clicked his tongue and crouched down in front of you like you were a kid who scraped her knee. Except there was nothing soft about his presence. His gaze traveled from your face to your trembling hands, your thighs squeezed together in shame.

“You’re cryin’ like I beat you,” he muttered, brushing his thumb along your cheek almost mockingly. “What, you think I’m gonna run? Leave you knocked up and scared?”

You nodded weakly, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“God, baby… c’mere.” His voice dropped lower—dangerously soft. He pulled you onto his lap like you weighed nothing, holding you like you were breakable glass. But his grip said otherwise.

“You don’t gotta think anymore, yeah?” he murmured into your hair. “I make the decisions now. You just sit pretty and listen.”

“I’m scared, Rafe…”

“I know, sweetheart. That’s ‘cause you don’t understand yet. But you will. You’re mine now—more than ever. And if you're carrying my kid?” He laughed under his breath. “You’re not goin’ anywhere.”

He pressed a kiss to the side of your temple, almost too gently for how hard his fingers dug into your waist.

The room was dark except for the moonlight slashing across the bed. Rafe was moving fast — too fast, too rough. His fingers dug into her hips like he owned them, hips slapping loud enough to echo off the walls.

“Rafe,” she gasped, a smile tugging at her lips despite the way her body trembled, “you’re being so loud—what? You want the whole island to know you’re fucking me?”

That teasing lilt in her voice. That smile. He froze for half a second. Blinked once. Something shifted.

The next thrust was sharper, unforgiving. “Shut the fuck up,” he growled low, venom thick in his voice. “You think this is funny? You think I’m some kind of joke to you?”

Her breath hitched—not from pain, but the sting behind his words.

He didn’t let her answer. He grabbed her jaw, not hard enough to hurt, just enough to remind her who had control. His hips didn’t stop moving, brutal and relentless. His face hovered inches from hers, blue eyes wild, jaw clenched.

“You don’t get to mock me. Not you,” he spat. “You’re lucky I even fuck you at all.”

Her chest tightened at that. The laughter was gone now, swallowed by the heat and the weight of his words.

Then he came, deep and possessive, holding her down like he was staking a claim. No warning, no pullout.

A single kiss — quick, hard, nothing soft about it — landed on her lips before he rolled off her without a word. No apology. Just silence and the sound of his breath slowing down.

She laid there, staring at the ceiling, the wet warmth between her thighs sinking in. Her heart pounded louder than his moans ever had.

He didn’t look back.

Aftercare with rafe!

The air still crackled with the aftermath thick, heavy, and warm. Your breaths came shallow against the bedsheets, You lay face down, cheek pressed into the cool sheets, breath shaky, thighs trembling from where he’d left you spent and scolded. Your bottom throbbed—hot, sore, stinging.

lashes damp, muscles trembling and your bottom pulsing with heat, each heartbeat echoing there like a cruel reminder of his dominance.

You hadn’t counted the number of times his palm came down. You only remembered the sound sharp, commanding and how each one pushed you closer to the edge of breaking. And now, you lay there, half out of it, whimpering quietly into the pillow, your skin blazing, raw and red.

The room was still, save for the distant sound of running water. Then footsteps

You flinched slightly when the bed dipped under his weight.

moving slowly, no rush to him now. You didn’t look up, but you felt him. The way the mattress shifted beneath his weight, the way his presence always filled the space like smoke. And then, the soft click of a lotion bottle being opened.

"Still breathing?" he asked, voice low and smooth, but there was something else there too—possessiveness, smugness… pride.

You made a small sound in your throat, half whimper, half protest, and he chuckled under his breath.

“Mm. Thought so.”

Coolness touched your skin and you gasped, jerking forward. His hand pressed down gently on your lower back, steadying you.

"Shhh. Stop squirming," Rafe muttered. "I told you this would happen. You act up, you get punished. But I always take care of my girl. Don’t I?"

You didn’t respond, not with words, but he knew the answer. He could feel it in the way you didn’t pull away. In the way you allowed yourself to melt into his hands again.

His fingers moved in slow, deliberate circles, massaging the lotion into your sore flesh with quiet precision. He wasn’t rushed, wasn’t distracted. He rubbed it in like it mattered. Like every stroke was part of the lesson he wanted to leave with you.

"Look at you," he murmured, more to himself than to you. "All red and sweet and shaking. Never learn, do you?"

You gave a soft cry when he hit a more tender spot, and he immediately slowed, murmuring something under his breath

something that almost sounded like “sorry,” though you knew better. He didn’t apologize. He just corrected. Controlled. Owned.

He dipped down and pressed a kiss to the curve of your hip, his breath warm against your skin. Another to your lower back. Then he ran a palm down your spine, grounding you.

"Next time you talk back, you’ll remember how this felt," he whispered, voice thick and husky, lips brushing against your bruised skin like a blessing and a threat in one. "But don’t pretend you didn’t love every second of it."

You didn’t answer. Couldn’t. He didn’t need you to.

Rafe stayed there a while longer, hands never leaving your body, tending to the damage he’d done like it was sacred work. And somehow, it felt like it was. Not just punishment. Not just power. But possession.