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quin-ns · 2 months ago

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Twin Flame (Rafe Cameron x Reader)

Word count: 11.6K

Summary: you play people just for the fun of it and they’re none the wiser. the only one who knows the real you is your best friend, rafe cameron, who you have the most fun toying with—and the feeling is mutual

Tags: (18+), toxic!rafe, toxic!reader (they match each others freak heavily), manipulative and mean!reader, violence, brief jj x reader, smidge of dubcon, fingering, unprotected sex, choking, biting, all that fun stuff and messy drama

A/N: writing toxic!reader was so fun actually. had this set pre/in season 1 in my mind so rafe isn’t fullll psycho yet. this is long ik but the plot was plotting and it’s worth it i swear

OBX masterlist + main masterlist

A lot of people would say Rafe wasn’t a great guy. Probably not even a good one. Hell, not even a decent one. But you didn’t care about any of that because, for some reason, Rafe Cameron was your best friend in the world, and you were his.

You didn’t have an exact reason for it, but everyone knew it was true. Sure, you had a few guesses. It could be because you had been Sarah’s friend first but picked him over her, and he needed that sort of validation. Maybe it was because you weren’t like his other friends, most of which you could only handle in small doses. Maybe it was because the two of you saw eye to eye on a lot of things. You looked at the world the same way as him and it was something neither of you had encountered before each other.

Or maybe it was because, even though people somewhat knew the real him, he was the only one close enough to know the real you, and he liked that.

The highs were high with Rafe for sure, but the lows were low. As much fun as the two of you had together, you would fight like words could cut and you were both going for the kill. It was because you really saw each other that you could exist in such a friendship and still return to one another. You understood the worst of each other in ways no one else could.

Whatever it was that drew him to you and kept him there, you didn’t really care. You were partners in crime so long you didn’t feel the urge to ask, and you were certain he felt the same way.

The ‘crime’ thing was literal today, which was lucky, because today was a good day between the two of you.

You were just coming off of an argument that led you to ignore him for two whole days. Then he showed up at your house with a brand new dress and an invite to a party. You’d already been invited to the same party, but the dress was a cute little black piece that was perfect for you.

Rafe was the only one of your friends who regularly bought you things, and even though you could afford them for yourself, you appreciated the thought and effort. And just like that, you accepted the bribe and forgave him. You took your time to get ready and he kept you company, catching up on the last two days as if nothing had happened. You joined him in his drug dealer, Barry’s, trailer as he bought supplies for the party.

You watched Rafe as he drove away from Barry’s with his jaw clenched. He must’ve felt you watching because it didn’t take him long to clue you in on why his mood had suddenly gone sour.

“I should’ve punched him,” Rafe said pointedly, throwing you a glance.

“He sells you coke, so suck it up,” you advised, fighting off a smirk as Rafe’s hands gripped the steering wheel tighter. “I don’t care so I don’t see why it bothers you so much.”

Of course you got why it bothered him. Most of the time you didn’t bother to pretend around him the way you did in front of everyone else. He could easily decipher your lies and the fakeness in your tone when no one else could so why bother?

This time you were only pretending for your own amusement because Rafe was far too distracted by your interaction with Barry to really pay attention. You could see how much he regretted not forcing you to wait in the car.

It wasn’t even that bad. Barry whistled when you walked in behind Rafe, watching your hands tug down the edges of your little black dress as you entered his trailer.

“Where’d you find her and how do I get one?” Barry had said to him under his breath, although he had a hard time with volume control given that you heard clearly.

The comment set Rafe on edge. He was quick to exchange the money for drugs and hustle you out of the trailer and back into his truck, his hand on your shoulder guiding you the entire time.

“You don’t see why him saying some shit like that would bother me?” Rafe asked with a condescending tone to his voice, fully looking over at you as his truck rolled up to a red light.

Rafe wasn’t as complicated as you once thought he was. You learned his tells. The way he said it alone was enough, but the slight narrowness of his eyes told you he could go either way.

On one hand, you could push his buttons. It was easy for you to get the straight line of his mouth to turn to a frown and set him off. Sometimes it was amusing, watching him get angry. It was what you had done a couple days ago, but when he got angry he could get mean, and that led to the two day silent treatment. Tonight you were on your way to a party and that wasn’t the energy you were going for.

So there was the other hand, where you could reel him back in and get him to calm down before it was too late. Something like a sweet smile and an apology or a joke to lighten the mood would work on him.

You went with the latter given you had nothing to apologize for this time.

“Please, you’d trade me for five dollars if you really need the money,” you teased.

He hesitated for a second, like he was making up his mind. You gave him a little smile and watched Rafe’s shoulders untense. The light turned green and he faced forward again, but you could still see a similar expression appear on his face.

“Ten bucks at least, give me a little credit,” he threw back. “Twenty if I’m feeling sentimental.”

You let out a sarcastic laugh. “As if you ever feel sentimental.”

And just like that he was back to normal. You had the power to do that. It wasn’t a power just anyone had, controlling Rafe. Maybe “controlling” sounded a bit heavy-handed, but what else would you call it?

A few different people had told you that Rafe only seemed truly happy around you, and you figured that was true. Not many people could make him smile just because.

Conversation picked back up again, the two of you going back and forth until you were laughing like crazy. No one else had the privilege to see either of you like this, both you and Rafe grinning and rambling on.

You knew Rafe was in a better mood than before because he was speeding. He usually drove pretty fast, but it was always at a different level whenever he was really happy, or really pissed.

The hit of coke you each did at the next red light didn’t slow him down at all.

He had great speakers in his truck so blasting music was an elevated experience, and rolling the window down to let the wind whip through your hair only made it better.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Rafe said in rapid succession, swatting at your thigh. You sat up with a start, not realizing you closed your eyes or that you had sunken into your seat. He pointed out the windshield at something up ahead, off to the side of the road. You doubted he’d noticed your brief zone-out. “You see that?”

You leaned forward and peered out the window, squinting to try and make out the figure clearly in the dark. “I think it’s a person,” you said. The closer you got, the more his headlights lit up the scene. “On a motorbike.”

“I think it’s JJ,” Rafe guessed. “He drives one of those, doesn’t he?”

You shrugged. You knew JJ—and his friends—but it wasn’t like you were friends. You only knew him because everyone in Kildare knew everyone. You didn’t concern yourself with Pogues the way Rafe did. While he would seek certain ones out to harass, you didn’t bother with anything to do with the Cut unless it directly affected you, which it hardly ever did.

That being said, when the person on the bike looked over his shoulder, it was clearly JJ. He wasn’t even wearing a helmet.

Your body was thrown as Rafe sharply jerked the wheel. Tires screeched against the pavement as the truck swerved up behind JJ as if Rafe were about to totally take him out. His truck was huge, it would be easy. Your gasp turned to a cackle as he yanked the wheel back the other way. You lunged across the truck and slammed your hand down on the horn, blaring it as Rafe let the truck swerve again.

Rafe let out a vicious laugh when JJ twisted the bike too fast in an attempt to avoid the truck and wiped out. In the side mirrors you saw he had veered into the grass. You guessed he’d skidded on the road first. You didn’t look back to see if he stood up, you were too busy watching Rafe with glee, a wicked smile plastered on your own face as he floored it down the street.

You’d been to Topper’s house on more than one occasion, and it was a party, so it wasn’t as if you were going to knock. You tugged at the skirt of your dress then barged inside, Rafe right at your back. Loud music, overlapping voices, and the smell of beer and weed filled your senses. Already energized, you moved through the crowded space with ease. You were in your element. People even parted to make way for you, but that could’ve been a perk of having Rafe looking like your bodyguard.

Rafe was here on business, not to get drunk and dance—your two favorite things about a party—but you didn’t mind sitting by his side on Topper’s couch as he offered a bump for free to draw people in and then negotiated a price for a line. The two of you usually snorted a quarter (sometimes half) of however much coke he bought, but the rest he used to try and make his money back.

Most people were uninteresting to you, but you liked to talk to them anyways. It reminded you how unimpressive everyone else your age was, which was an ego boost for sure—although, ego certainly wasn’t something you lacked to begin with.

Curiosity led you to get distracted sometimes. When you left Rafe’s side to get a drink from the kitchen you didn’t mean to be gone for long, but some guy with black hair in a crew cut and beer breath started challenging you to go against him in cup pong. You guessed he was someone’s relative or new in town because you didn’t recognize him. He boasted how he was the best—the current champion of the kitchen—and no one wanted to play against him anymore. He gave you this stupid cocky smile—not the kind of hot-but-aggravating cocky smile Rafe got when he was right about something—but the kind that made you want to ruin his life.

That would take too long, and it was energy you didn’t want to waste on him, so you played instead. You knew kicking his ass would be satisfying before you even took your first turn, and after, you got to confirm that it was. Ruining his winning streak would be enough.

Rafe taught you to play a few years ago and you only got better, but you weren’t going to thank him or anything. At this point you could probably beat him.

You left Crew Cut in the kitchen, defeated, and stumbled back to the living room. He got a few shots in so you had had a bit to drink, but you were still fully capable. Rafe would probably be annoyed at you for being gone so long, but you figured you could bat your lashes and apologize and he’d forgive you. And if not you’d blame it on Crew Cut for keeping you hostage playing cup pong and Rafe would get his knuckles bloody. Either way, you were sitting pretty.

Except, when you spotted him on the couch, you immediately saw that no, you weren’t. Spite flared in your gut at the sight of Rafe talking to some girl. She had stubby legs sticking out of a short white dress and brown hair that might’ve been pretty if it suited her. And if she brushed it properly. You wracked your memory to put a name to the face, and by the time you had stomped your way over to them, you remembered.

You forced a grin. “Hey, Bella.”

She looked up at you and gave you a smile that felt a little too sweet. “It’s Bethany,” she corrected. Eh, you were close enough. “And hey, Y/N. I didn’t know you were here.”

You wanted to glare at her, to figure out if that was some kind of insult, but you weren’t going to let her get to you that easy.

“Well, I am, and I was sitting there, so.” You shrugged, making the message so get up clear.

“Relax,” Rafe chimed in. Your eyes found him and you knew he could see past your mask. “You did get up.”

You tilted your head. There was a sourness to his voice that only you seemed to pick up on. You flicked your eyes to Bethany, who had this newly satisfied expression on her average face, then back to Rafe.

“Yeah, and it’s not like you own the couch, so,” Bethany commented, emboldened by what she assumed was Rafe backing her up. But no, it wasn’t that. He was upset, you could tell, and he was using her to bother you.

“I just went to the kitchen to get a drink,” you explained carefully.

“You were gone for a while.” Rafe's voice was too even, too controlled.

For someone who was just your best friend, Rafe was more possessive over you than any boyfriend you’d ever had. It went both ways. He was yours just as much as you were his, and apparently Bethany hadn’t gotten the memo.

“You move your feet, you lose your seat,” Bethany piped up with this obnoxious sing-song tone. “Sorry.”

You cringed at the phrase and this time let your disgust show. “What are you, four? Grow up.”

She scoffed and looked at Rafe, seeking some kind of defense, but when he finally took his eyes off you it wasn’t to look at her. His focus fell to something past you. His jaw clenched.

“Rafe,” Bethany barked at him, demanding attention. “Are you gonna let her talk to me like that?”

You almost laughed. Who did she think she was? Rafe’s priority list was short, but it was clear who was at the top and who wasn’t even on it.

“If you went to the kitchen for a drink then where is it?”

“I drank it,” you snarked.

Rafe made a noise that said he didn’t believe you. Warmth seeped into the skin on the back of your thigh just above your knee as Rafe’s hand made contact. His thumb rubbed back and forth, but neither of you acknowledged it. You got an inkling, though, and looked over your shoulder. Sure enough, you spotted Crew Cut. He was right in Rafe’s eyeline and yep, he smiled at you. What a moron.

Rafe must’ve seen the two of you playing cup pong. You were surprised by that. Not that he’d seen, but that he had gone back to sit down instead of making his presence known sooner. You looked back at Bethany, smirking with the knowledge that you’d been right all along. He thought he could make you jealous.

Bethany noticed his hand placement, but it wasn’t like Rafe was trying to hide it. She scoffed and stood, finally understanding her place.

“You’re a jerk, you know that?” Upright she wasn’t as short as you thought, but still shorter than you, even in her heels. “So are you,” she spat at you, squaring her shoulders as if she was making some grand stand against you. “You deserve each other.”

This time you did laugh. Right in her face. How could you not?

“Calm down, you Shih Tzu.” Bethany made a sound of offense. “Go whine at someone else’s feet,” you dismissed with a wave of your hand.

The suddenness of the impact almost knocked you back. She was tiny so it wasn’t like your head was spinning from the punch. It more so caught you off guard than anything else. You did have to give her a bit of credit for that. Your nose throbbed as you brought your head back forward.

Bethany’s face was scrunched up and tomato red. The sight amused you, even as blood began to trickle from your nostrils.

“I don’t know why anyone ever said you were nice,” she sneered. If she wasn’t such an annoying little bitch you might’ve been impressed. “You wanna say anything else?

That was true, you were the nice one. That’s what made you and Rafe such a fascinating duo to the people who either knew or knew of you.

Of course, their assumptions weren’t true, but they didn’t need to know that. You didn’t have a real reason to pretend, you just did. But sometimes you didn’t bother—certain people on special occasions got the chance to meet the real Y/N.

A million lines crossed your mind from snarky remarks to scathing insults. Oh yeah, you had plenty to say.

Instead you inhaled deeply, sucking the blood back through your nose. It trickled back down your throat and once it mixed with enough saliva you spat it right in Bethany’s face. Gross, yes, but effective.

Bethany screamed. That garnered an audience. The spitty, bloody mess dripped from her face down the front of her dress. Her white dress. You smiled, not caring that blood caked your teeth. You could taste it. Who wore a white dress to a party, anyway?

Out of the corner of your eye you looked at Rafe. He’d already let his hand fall from your body. The expression on his face was a mix between annoyance from before and current amusement.

Bethany lunged at you, hands out like she was going to try and scratch you or something. She didn’t get a chance because some other girl, who you assumed must’ve been a friend, came up behind her and pulled her back. Bethany made a noise of frustration as her friend dragged her away, but she let the other girl do it anyway.

“Hey! Are you okay?” A hand landed on your shoulder and you turned. Crew Cut had wide eyes, likely having witnessed the scene.

You became aware of all the people staring at you in that moment and internally sighed.

You sniffled and wiped your nose with the back of your hand, then flinched on purpose.

“Ow,” you whined. His hands rested on both of your arms as he encouraged you to look at him. “I think it’s broken,” you whimpered loud enough for surrounding people to hear. Sounds of pity filled in around you and people started to approach. Clearly they’d all only witnessed the second half of your interaction with Bethany, which really worked in your favor.

“That girl is crazy,” some girl nearby said. “You didn’t even do anything.”

“Do you need a doctor?” someone else asked.

Tears filled your eyes. “I think so,” you croaked out to no one in particular.

A hand latched onto your bicep and pulled you away from Crew Cut and the small crowd you’d acquired.

“I’ve got her,” Rafe said firmly as he held you at his side. People started to mutter. “Come on, you’ll be okay.”

The way he said it told you he knew exactly what you were doing. Rafe knew how much you liked being the center of attention.

It didn’t stop you from milking it while you could.

“It’s not okay,” you complained. “She hit me! You saw her, Rafe!”

He leaned down to your ear, his pace quickening. “I’m not gonna fall for your shit so drop it,” he hissed.

“I don’t know if I need to go to the hospital,” you said loudly, covering for him. You put an extra touch of gratefulness to your voice. “But if you think I need to then we’ll go.”

You sniffled again, gingerly touching your nose as you walked alongside him, absorbing all the worried and supportive comments you got on your way.

They were all so busy staring at you that you doubted they could see how pissed Rafe was. Mission accomplished. He had a hard time controlling his face. They probably didn’t notice the other injury you were sustaining, either, as Rafe dug his fingers into the flesh of your arm, gripping tight as he dragged you out the door.

Rafe slowed down once you were out of the house, but still held your arm. All the action was inside so he spoke freely.

“Is your nose actually broken?”

You shook your head confidently, dropping the act from inside. “Hurts a little but it’s fine. She didn’t hit that hard, weak arms I’m guessing. Plus I always got nose bleeds easily as a kid so it looks worse than it is.”

The ease in which you explained made Rafe shake his head. You wiped your teary eyes with the back of your hand to clear up your vision as Rafe led the both of you to his truck.

“Are those even real?” he questioned, but the snark in his voice said he already knew the answer.

“No.”

If he was in a good mood, Rafe would’ve been impressed. But, he was in a bad mood, so you were faced with annoyance and anger instead.

“You’re so screwed up.”

You scoffed. “Takes one to know one,” you muttered loud enough for him to hear. “Ow!” you shrieked as Rafe applied pressure, squeezing down on your arm. “Why are you so mad at me?”

“Why do you think you can lie to me?” he snapped back.

You yanked yourself free from his hold. You’d arrived at the truck without realizing. Likely the reason he let you separate yourself—you’d end up going with him anyway.

“I told you the truth, my nose is fine. Yeah, I was faking for attention, who the fuck cares?” You crossed your arms over your chest. “That bitch still hit me. I should get a restraining order.” Rafe rolled his eyes at the dramatic yet empty threat.

Okay, so you weren’t actually going to do that, but he could show a little sympathy, couldn’t he?

“Thanks for standing back and doing nothing, by the way,” you added when he didn’t reply right away.

That provoked a reaction you wanted. Rafe took a step forward. “I’m talking about you disappearing.” Oh, yeah. “You say you’re going to get a drink, then you’re gone forever and so like a good friend I go to find you. To make sure you're okay. And then what do I see?” Rafe’s voice continued to rise with each word. “You, hanging out with some asshole!”

“What about you?” you shot back. “I go back to you and some random girl is sitting in my spot, and then you act like you can’t be bothered to back me up when she goes psycho!”

“Are you pissed because she was in your spot or jealous because she was next to me?”

“Jealous? Me?” A scoff escaped you at the accusation. Was he insane? “You have a mental breakdown because I play one dumb drinking game with a guy I don’t even care enough to learn the name of but sure, Rafe, I’m the jealous one.”

“I’m not the one who was picking fights,” he reminded, stepping closer.

“Yeah, well, she was a bitch.”

Rafe was so close he could probably hear your heart skip a beat. “So are you.”

The slap of your hand against his cheek echoed through the night air.

Your mouth fell open a little, anger melting into shock. You’d never hit Rafe before, but he was getting in your face and being a dick and you just really had to urge to. It felt long overdue, honestly. Sure, you could argue just as ruthlessly as he could, but he’d only ever gotten physical with you, not the other way around. It was never hitting, never, ever hitting, but this wouldn’t be the first time he left bruises on your arm.

The second you met him on his level, he took it further.

The air was knocked from your lungs when your chest hit the passenger door of his truck. Rafe pressed himself against your back, keeping you trapped as he heaved into your ear, “Now what made you think that would be smart?”

“Only one of us is smart and it’s definitely not you.” The retort was instinctual. Your quick replies amused Rafe most of the time, but that wasn’t the case at the moment.

“You’re so mean tonight,” he said, voice like a warning. “First you abandon me, then you make a scene, and now you’re causing problems again. I sold the rest of the coke but I might have a bump left.” God, he could be so patronizing. It was even more irritating, which was exactly what he was going for when he added, “I think you need to lighten up.”

“Fuck you,” you growled out, squirming against his hold. This was unknown territory. “Stop being a dick and let me go. This isn’t funny.”

He kept you pinned with his body, it didn’t matter that you tried to push yourself back with your palms against the car, he was solid. When his hands rose to pin each of your wrists to the window you were left completely at his mercy.

Rafe leaned down a little, his lips by your ear. Your whole body shuddered at the tickle of his breath as he whispered, “I’m not trying to be funny.” Your teeth clenched. “Are you going to behave yourself so we can go or do I need to wait? I’ve got all night.”

There was a shakiness that tangled itself into his last few words. You opened your mouth to speak but hesitated when Rafe adjusted his stance.

You didn’t let him see the smirk that crossed your face. He was aroused, you could feel him pressing against you. You wanted to say something so bad because it was obvious it was for you. Something witty, something mean, something flirty—just something. But instead you closed your mouth and let your body do the talking.

You rocked your hips back slightly. Enough to let him know you felt it, but not enough to create friction. Rafe reacted how you thought he might. His hands around your wrists tightened as he nudged himself closer to you. He let out a grunt as his cock pressed more against your ass.

Your entire demeanor shifted the second you understood you had the upper hand.

“Rafe,” you said, making your voice sound all breathless. You paired the gasp of his name with rolling your hips back shamelessly.

Rafe grunted in your ear. His hips shoved forward, almost out of his control. Heat flooded your body at the feel of him. The only barrier was your clothes and those could be easily removed.

You rolled your hips again with a giggle.

“You think you’re funny?” he growled into your ear.

You nearly choked on your own tongue. You’d always found Rafe attractive but this whole scenario just put it on another level. You pressed your thighs together to control yourself, but a shaky breath managed to escape. You were having a hard time deciphering what was authentic and what was just for fun.

One of his hands released your wrist in favor of resting around your neck. Not quite squeezing, just holding. The pressure was just enough to let you know it was there and now you were really losing your grip on this whole thing. You shivered against him, your body going rogue. So much for being in control.

Rafe leaned in even closer, his lips pressed right next to your ear as he warned, “if you don’t stop that I’m gonna have to fuck you right here.”

You swallowed hard. No words came to mind.

You and Rafe had never crossed the line in all your years of friendship, which surprised a lot of people. Sometimes you wondered about it, like now. How could you not? He was hot and so were you, and you spent nearly all your time together. Rafe understood you even when it came back to bite you. There was something about him not just toeing the line but stepping fully over it with those words that thrilled you.

You could give in. You wanted to give in because honestly the fact that you never even kissed him, let alone fucked him, was confusing to you now. It would only add another layer to the messy thing you called your friendship, but it didn’t seem like a bad idea. Not with his hand on your neck and his lips at your ear and his cock throbbing against you.

A wicked idea appeared in your head. One fueled by pettiness and your desire for control that you’d forgotten for a moment, but not forever.

Rafe had you caged but not fully trapped. You’d stopped fighting against him, so it wasn’t as hard as it should’ve been to twist your way free from his hold.

“Then let’s go,” you said, not facing him because you’d definitely break if you did.

You yanked open the passenger door and climbed into the truck. Once it shut you looked out the window and found him staring back. Confused, frustrated, and stunned. You smirked to yourself.

Rafe got it together and crossed to the driver's side. He got in without a word. His jaw was clenched too tight. His hand fell to his lap, not even hiding the fact that he was adjusting himself before starting up the truck.

The drive was so quiet it made you want to laugh. Rafe kept looking at you out of the corner of his eye, like he wasn’t sure whether to keep ignoring you or pounce on you. That was just the way you wanted it for now. Now that you knew you were something he wanted, you couldn’t make things easy for him.

You were pretty proud of yourself, honestly. Knowing you’d worked him up like this. It was his turn to suffer a little. Serves him right for earlier. You did get punched after all and he didn’t defend you the way he should’ve.

When he stopped in front of your house all you got was a sharp, “Goodnight.”

“Dream about me,” you said before you slid out and shut the truck door.

Even though you had to ice your nose, you went to bed with a smile on your face that night. Rafe probably went home and took matters into his own hands, pun intended, and you’d bet anything you were on his mind while he did.

You saw him the very next day at the country club. You caught a ride with Topper for the simple reason you knew it would get under Rafe’s skin that you didn’t ask him by default like usual.

Of course you were right. He had a certain intensity to him when he arrived at your usual table and found you and Topper too wrapped up in conversation to notice him. You did notice him, though. You just didn’t show it.

“Hey, man,” Topper greeted him finally, still chuckling from something you had said. You turned your head to acknowledge Rafe but didn’t say a word.

Usually, Rafe would sit across from you. It just made the most sense since the two of you would often get caught up in your own conversations. Topper had even opted for a seat next to the one right across from you because of this.

Instead of taking his usual spot, Rafe dragged out the chair right beside you and sat down. He didn’t acknowledge you either. Topper’s eyes flicked between the two of you, sensing something but not willing to comment on it aloud.

So, he was still pissed about yesterday. Not that it surprised you or anything. Just a very obvious observation.

Soon enough Kelce showed and it made it easier to not comment on what was going on between you and Rafe.

“How’s your nose?” Kelce asked. He ended up across from you since Rafe left that seat open.

You pressed your fingers gingerly to the bridge. “It’s a little sore but I’m okay.”

“Why’d she even hit you?” Kelce wondered.

“Y/N didn’t do anything,” Topper jumped in to defend you. Kelce didn’t necessarily have an accusing tone to his voice, but the question was enough to garner backup. “That chick was crazy.”

You fought to keep the smugness out of your smile. Most boys were easy—like Topper. When he picked you up and asked how you were feeling, you sniffled and told him you didn’t understand what happened. He told you it wasn’t your fault. Even though he’d been nowhere nearby when it happened, he sure sounded confident.

Kelce chuckled a bit. “I heard you spit blood in her face. That’s pretty wicked, Y/N. Didn’t think you had it in you.”

These two were more Rafe’s friends than your own, but you still saw them a decent amount. Enough that you had infiltrated their little trio—but you weren’t ’one of the guys’. You found girls who went out of their way to act like that annoying. You got along fine with each of them, but they weren’t the type of friends you’d hang out with without Rafe around.

Speaking of Rafe, he’d been pretty quiet since he arrived. It was the kind of quiet he got when he was agitated, but hadn’t quite reached that tipping point for today.

Just when you thought he’d be some kind of mute the rest of lunch, he made a sort of scoffing noise after Kelce’s comment.

“Well, then you don’t know her,” Rafe replied over the brim of his glass before taking a drink.

You shot him a glare. God, he was petty.

You looked at Topper and Kelce and forced a giggle. A really girly one for extra measure.

“Someone’s grumpy today,” you said in a loud whisper. The two guys smirked to themselves when you dramatically turned to Rafe. “What’s wrong? Wake up on the wrong side of the bed?” You faked a pout when you really wanted to grin. “Any weird dreams?”

Rafe faced you. He remembered your comment. One of your favorite pastimes was screwing with him just because you could.

“I slept just fine,” Rafe answered smoothly. He tilted his head a little. You narrowed your eyes. There was a look of mischief in his. “What about you?”

You nearly jumped when his hand landed on your bare thigh. The seats at the table were close enough he didn’t have to noticeably shift to make contact. Rafe raised his brows, letting his fingers kneed into your supple skin. Maybe you should’ve worn pants.

You bit your lip before turning it to a smile. “Same here.”

“Nothing keeping you up at night?” Rafe wondered less than innocently.

You shook your head. “Nope.”

He hummed. His hand slid further up your leg. “Nothing worth thinking about?”

So badly you wanted to say something snarky like, “just because you went home and got off to the thought of me doesn’t mean I returned the favor,” but that seemed like a bit much with Topper and Kelce right across the table. They didn’t get to know how clever you could be.

Speaking of the other boys, you had almost forgotten about them during your stare-down with Rafe.

“Are you guys going to the kegger at the Boneyard tonight?” Topper wondered, breaking the tension you and Rafe had created.

Rafe looked away first. “It’s gonna be overrun with Pogues,” he dismissed.

Just because of that you said, “I’m going.” Rafe threw you a glance. “What? The Boneyard is like… middle ground. There’s peace and there’s free alcohol.”

The second part was true, but the first? It depended on the night and what drama was currently going on. Some nights everyone just hung out and got drunk and had fun, and other nights there were fights that broke out. It was really just a toss of the coin.

“If you don’t go I won’t have a ride,” you told Rafe, but before he could open his mouth, you cheerfully turned to Topper. “If you’re going do you think you could give me a ride? This morning was fun, we could keep the karoke going.”

Topper blushed a little while you beamed at him. You’d gotten him to sing along to some pop songs that played on the radio—not exactly ‘karaoke’ but it had the intended effect.

No sooner than you asked was Rafe saying, “I’m going.” There was a bite to his tone that had Topper looking a little lost. Rafe’s fingertips pressed into your skin. “I didn’t say I wasn’t. I’ll give you a ride, it’s no problem.”

It was a problem, that was the point.

“Hello, gentlemen!” A waitress appeared with a big smile and too much pep in her step. You gave her a look that had her swallowing. “And lady. What can I get for you all?”

Rafe flashed her that stupid charming smile of his. The one he gave when he wanted something.

You wanted to gag when he started flirting with her, but you kept it in. It was embarrassing, honestly, for him. You wanted to smack him and tell him to stop making a fool of himself, and then you wanted to do the same to the waitress when she let out a snorty little laugh. Whatever he said wasn’t that funny, and laughing wasn’t going to get her a bigger tip.

While he was flirting and you were seething, Rafe’s hand stayed on your thigh. He rubbed little circles with his thumb and it told you where his mind really was.

When the waitress disappeared, you unclenched your jaw, which you hadn’t realized you’d done, but you didn’t speak right away. Rafe started a conversation with the guys and all you did for now was listen.

Rafe slid his hand further up, talking to them as if his fingers weren’t creeping towards your center. A thrill shot through you at the idea because all this with Rafe was new territory. The warmth in your face and your core told you to let him continue just to see what would happen—then your ego, your desire to win, took over.

You crossed your legs, trapping his hand. Sure, he couldn’t pull it away, but he also couldn’t move it closer. You chewed the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing when Rafe’s voice faltered while talking.

“You good?” you asked casually, as if you’d been up to nothing but listening.

Rafe recovered quickly. He flexed his hand a little and you squeezed it between your thighs. If he really wanted to he could probably yank himself free, but he didn’t try. He also couldn’t get any closer towards his goal. He let you have your minor win, which in all honesty it wasn’t that much of a loss to him so he could live with it, but at least you had some bit of control again.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he asked. You shrugged, and then he went on talking again.

When the waitress returned he hardly acknowledged her, which she looked a little miffed by, but he couldn't be bothered to care about her.

This was more of a draw when it came down to it, but you could live with that—for now.

You wore your lucky pink bikini with a pair of jeans shorts over it for the kegger.

True to his word Rafe picked you up and the two of you rode together to the Boneyard. Conversation was light, both of you playing defense, not wanting to show your hand. For as much as he was eyeing you he didn’t make a move. The topics were unimportant, so much so you had already forgotten what you’d said by the time you got to the beach.

As you walked towards the shore with Rafe at your side, you admitted to yourself you didn’t exactly have a game plan. You were determined to win this little feud, but how to do that? You didn’t have that worked out. You were still bitter about the fact he hadn’t defended you, and now the whole thing with the waitress was sitting on top of that. You had to get him back and get him good—something that would make him never forget who had the power between the two of you.

And if it scared him enough to make him never flirt with another girl again? Well, you wouldn’t be opposed to hearing him out if he had any ideas for alternatives.

You could see yourself being with Rafe. You really could. Not the way that most girls could, not just because he was handsome, and rich, and charming if he put in the effort. All those things were definitely a plus, but they didn’t understand him the way you did, and he’d never bother to understand them the way he understood you.

Even if your whole night was dedicated to winning against him, when it came down to it, you were equals. That’s what made him such a challenge, and the challenge is what made him so exciting. It was why you could drive each other to the brink of insanity one night and then hang out and laugh together the next.

The thought of a truce entered your mind. Rafe’s arm kept brushing against yours as the two of you joined the party. He looked good in the shirt he’d picked out, and you noticed he was wearing the cologne you liked. He’d been at your house right on time and had gotten out to open the passenger side door for you.

“Rafe?” you said, but evidently not loud enough.

Before you could continue he said, “I’ll be back,” and disappeared off towards the keg without a further word. Not even a glance back.

You shut your mouth and frowned. Would he even be back? You let out a huff.

It didn’t matter, you weren’t going to stand around waiting for him. You couldn’t let him think that was something he could just do. Make you wait around for him. What a dick. You felt like an idiot for even letting the word ‘truce’ enter your mind.

You looked around a little aimlessly. You weren’t about to go join Rafe and your other friends—you weren’t some follower. Your eyes wandered the scattered crowds until they landed on someone that brought a grin to your face.

Go big or go home.

He was standing practically by himself at the least populated keg. You smiled to yourself as you watched the blond fill his red solo cup with beer, chug it, then immediately refill it without so much as setting down the hose.

“Hey,” you said once you’d reached speaking distance. “Don’t you usually have a group of friends you hang with? They didn’t abandon you, did they?”

JJ looked a little surprised at your presence, but when your words registered he chuckled.

“If you wanna get technical then I abandoned them,” he replied coolly.

He nodded his head towards the water and sure enough, John B and Pope were standing in a group talking. No sign of your sort of ex friend, Kiara. You weren’t besties with her the way she and Sarah had been, but you also didn’t turn around and hate on her the way Sarah had. Things had always been a little off with you and the oldest Cameron girl ever since you and Rafe became the duo that you were, so her opinion wasn’t all that defining to you the way it was to others, so Kie wasn’t so bad in your books, but you weren’t still hanging with her either. You hardly thought of her at all to tell the truth.

“What about you?” JJ raised a brow.

“All alone tonight I guess.” You sighed. JJ didn’t say anything for a moment, regarding you. You cast your eyes down to his leg and gasped. “That looks awful! Are you okay?”

There was a huge scrape on his knee with some bruising around it. You knew exactly what, well who had caused it.

JJ didn’t need to know you were in the passenger seat, or that you hadn’t given him a second thought until now.

You looked at his right arm. Gently you reached out to grab it, avoiding the freshly damaged skin. He looked taken aback, likely not expecting the softness or concern from you.

“JJ…” you continued sympathetically, tenderly brushing over the area next to the injury. “What happened?”

His cup crinkled in his fist as his body tensed. He pulled his arm from your grasp and you frowned at him. He took a sip from his drink, watching you over the rim of his cup.

He lowered it after a long drink. “Got ran off the road by that asshole you hang out with,” he finally replied, casting his eyes away.

You shook your head shamefully. “Rafe is an asshole,” you said. There was nothing disingenuous about those words at least.

JJ wasn’t sure whether to frown or laugh.

“Have you and I ever had a full conversation before?”

You smiled at the way he vocalized the first thought that came to his brain. You shook your head.

“Not a full one I don’t think. Definitely not one on one.” You paused. “We could change that, though.”

JJ’s demeanor shifted, relaxing a bit. As if it were some kind of test, he refilled his solo cup to the brim, then extended it out to you.

You weren’t one to fail a test. You accepted it with a smile and took a gulp. JJ was grinning by the time you finished with a noise of satisfaction.

“Alright, maybe I didn’t have you figured out after all,” JJ decided, raising his hands in a little surrender like you’d caught him.

“Guess not,” you agreed.

You found yourself sitting across from him right in the sand. It hadn’t bothered him so you didn’t let it seem like it bothered you. It was easier said than done with the little grains digging in and you knew they’d be stuck to you all night, but you weren’t going to start seeming like the kind of girl who complained.

JJ was fun and carefree, so you were fun and carefree. You tapped into that side of yourself and amplified it. You tried to keep some reality in whatever performance you were putting on.

“You shouldn’t itch that,” you warned. JJ had scratched at the scab on his forearm yet again. “It’ll scar worse if you irritate it.”

“I know how scars work, thanks, doc.” It was sarcastic but it wasn’t mean, which threw you off. “It’s just annoying.” He extended his leg and looked down at it. “And definitely fucked for a few weeks. Looks worse than it is, though.”

“It’s not so bad,” you offered. “And if you don’t scratch I’m sure it’ll heal just fine.” A playful smirk wandered onto your lips. “But I think it makes you look kinda tough, y’know?”

“Tough, huh?”

“I mean, not that you need it or anything.” The shy laugh that left you sounded so natural. God, you were good. “Sorry, that was weird. I just—it’ll heal, but until it does, don't worry about how it looks, is what I’m trying to say.”

“I wasn’t, but thanks.” JJ was smiling, clearly relishing in his perceived victory of managing to fluster you in so few words. “I don’t get how a sweet girl like you can hang out with a guy like Rafe.”

If only he knew.

You swallowed and shrugged. You turned your eyes down. “I don’t know either, sometimes.”

“Hey, I’m sorry,” JJ said. He moved then. You heard him. By the time you looked up, the blond was sitting by your side. He gave you a lopsided smile. “That’s nothing against you, it’s just…”

“Rafe’s an asshole?” you supplied. “We already established that, remember?” You let your voice waver just enough that JJ felt a little guilty, but also have enough humor that he knew he could fix it.

“You’re a great girl, and I’m guessing you know how I feel about Kooks. So I’m I’m not saying that lightly, alright?” JJ began playfully. You met his eyes and smiled softly. “Why do you put up with him?”

He wanted to save you. How funny.

“I… I don’t want to talk about Rafe. I wanna keep talking about you. What have you been up to this summer?”

That got him talking again. It was easier that way. You could just react; smile, nod along, make little noises or mutter a few words.

He was in the middle of yet another surfing story from the other week when you put your head on his shoulder. JJ didn’t hesitate to wrap his arm around you.

If Rafe could see you now.

It’s not that you cared where he was, or what he was doing, or who he was doing it with, but you knew he’d care what you were up to. He’d care when he found out only after the fact where you were directing your night with JJ, one of the good for nothing Pogues that he loathed.

What would he say when he found out you invited JJ Maybank into your bed when all he got was a hand on your thigh for a few minutes under a table? That would show him.

Actually, more than that, it would drive him crazy. Letting you know he wanted you, and then continuing to play games was probably the stupidest thing Rafe Cameron could’ve ever done. If it was a game you were going to win.

Who cared if it sent him over the edge? You sure didn’t.

A gust of ocean air came at the right time. You shivered dramatically and JJ frowned at you, pausing mid sentence to ask if you had a jacket. He didn’t have one to offer. That worked out just fine for you because you had an offer of your own. One you were certain he wasn’t going to turn down.

“Actually, would you mind giving me a ride back to my place? My friend kind of ditched me,” you asked politely. JJ, ever the gentleman, masked his disappointment and agreed. He got to his feet and offered a hand. “And if you want, you could stay and, I don’t know, hang out…”

JJ brows rose. “Hang out?” he parroted back to you.

You bit your lip and nodded. “Yeah. Hang out.” You brushed a lock of hair from his forehead. A grin spread across his face. “That cool with you?”

“Lead the way,” he encouraged, energy quickly returning.

You reached for his hand and he let you take it.

“You’re driving, remember?”

“Oh, yeah. I’ll lead the way.”

You laughed with him, giving his hand a little squeeze.

To be fair, JJ was very attractive. And he was not so bad to talk to. He didn’t even give you shit for being a Kook, which you had expected he would. He’d only commented on your friendship with Rafe but you’d played into that well. You’d enjoyed yourself with him. On another occasion if he had approached you, you’d probably indulge him at least for a while. Maybe even sleep with him like you were planning to now. You’d heard the rumors about him and so you were pretty confident you’d have fun.

Although, the real fun would start after, when you got to throw it in Rafe’s face and watch him lose it.

There was only one problem with your plan. Rafe spotted you before you could leave.

“Y/N!” Rafe called. You turned and so did JJ. JJ clutched your hand tighter as Rafe approached. If looks could kill, you and JJ would both be dead. You smirked to yourself. You couldn’t help it. “Where the fuck are you going?”

“Back off, Rafe.” JJ was surprised but he still managed to sound threatening. He probably didn’t think Rafe was even here since you’d failed to mention it. “You don’t own her.”

Poor, sweet, dumb, JJ.

Any other disagreement, any other issue, Rafe might’ve gone along with the back and forth for a minute. Not when it came to you.

JJ had no time to dodge before Rafe was slamming his fist into his face. You grit your teeth. Your nose twitched. Now that was a real punch. Rafe quickly followed up with another right to JJ’s stomach.

JJ fell to the ground with a grunt. You managed to drop his hand just in time. Rafe was on top of JJ in an instant, pummeling him. It was dark, but you could smell blood mixing with the scent of the sea. The sound of Rafe’s fists cracked against JJ’s face told you there’d be bruises.

JJ managed to get out from beneath him, but Rafe wasn’t about to back off. It became an all out brawl. Over you, of all things. Wasn’t that romantic? You giggled to yourself when you had to step back because JJ threw Rafe off of him. You watched with shallow, excited breaths when Rafe got back to his feet and charged.

“Hey!” someone screamed from a distance. You didn’t recognize the voice, but when you turned your head, you saw a group of partygoers approaching. “Knock it off!”

You rolled your eyes. You cleared your throat. The group was getting closer so you let loose.

“Guys! Stop it, please!” you shrieked, as if you had been begging this entire time. “Stop!”

A hand landed on your shoulder.

“Stand back, Y/N,” Topper said, blocking you with his body.

“They won’t stop,” you cried pathetically. “Someone is going to get seriously hurt!”

Topper registered your concern and then took it upon himself to intervene. John B joined him. He’d come out of nowhere. The group that had gathered around the fight had grown within seconds. Some were yelling at them to quit while others clapped and shouted encouragement.

John B pried JJ away and Topper got ahold of Rafe. JJ tried to run back at Rafe but then Pope got in front of him. You didn’t hear what he said to the blond but JJ backed down. He looked at you, still restrained by his friends after fighting for your honor. You spotted a black eye forming and a busted lip. It was pretty hot.

“Rafe, man—“

“Get your hands off me,” Rafe snapped at Topper like something feral. He got your attention without even asking. You met his gaze and he looked… well, crazy. You don’t think that would come until later. “Y/N,” he muttered your name as he approached you. “We’re leaving.”

Rafe didn’t wait for you to respond. His hand snapped out, gripping your bicep and dragging you along behind him.

You nearly stumbled over your feet from the force. Behind you there were protests, and Topper even began to follow, so you had no choice.

“It’s fine,” you called back to him. “I’m going with him.” You were sure JJ heard and for the first time in a long, long while you felt a small twinge of guilt.

It didn’t last long when Rafe shoved you against the side of his truck. He ripped open the passenger side door. The wild look in his eyes almost scared you. Almost.

“Get in.”

You obeyed. He hardly left you time to scramble in before he was slamming the door shut behind you. You watched Rafe as if he were some kind of predator, analyzing his movements as he stalked to the driver’s side and climbed in next to you.

You weren’t going to be the first one to speak. Rafe was speeding like there was no such thing as a limit. The only move you made was to buckle your seatbelt. It took a long few minutes before Rafe finally spoke.

“I told you I’d be back,” he finally grit out.

“You didn’t notice I was gone until I was leaving,” you shot back.

Rafe’s hands tightened on the steering wheel.

“I was looking for you.”

“Bullshit,” you snapped. “You didn’t give a damn where I was until I was leaving with JJ—“

Rafe slammed on the break. Your whole body jolted. The seat belt tightened against you and your head hit the head rest. Before you could scream at him your vision cleared and you realized you were in front of your house.

“Don’t say his name.” The way Rafe said it made him seem dangerous.

You looked at him, eyes wide, gauging what to do next. This was the most terrified you had ever been of him, and yet…

“Your cheek is cut,” you pointed out, voice as steady as you could make it. JJ wore rings. You bet it hurt. “Come in and let me clean it.”

You didn’t leave room for debate. You and Rafe watched one another with caution, regarding the other as a threat.

In a way you were both right.

You got out of the truck first. You made it to your door, knowing Rafe was right behind you.

You went through the motions almost robotically as you took him into the bathroom. You turned on the light and made him sit on the edge of the tub. The first aid kit was in the cabinet and you found everything you needed right inside.

For knowing you had caused all of this, you weren’t exactly sure what to do now. Which was odd, because you always seemed to figure out the next step one way or another, but right now, cleaning Rafe’s cheek with an alcohol wipe, watching his jaw tense with the stinging pain, you were unsure how to proceed.

What do you do when you get your way, or at least you think you got your way, but not in the way you had planned?

Rafe swatted your hand away when you tried to open a bandaid.

“Don’t put that thing on me, it’s fine,” Rafe protested. He placed his hands on your hips. You thought he was going to push you back, but he just sort of held you in place.

“Don’t be a baby.”

Rafe ignored you. He dropped his forehead to your stomach. It was almost as if you were an altar for him to worship at. You ran a hand through his hair, finding the sight to be nothing short of beautiful. You couldn’t help yourself.

He muttered something that sounded like, “Why do you do this to me?” You didn’t answer. He took a breath. “Were you gonna fuck him?” Rafe asked. You were sure of his words this time.

You could lie, you thought, but then decided against it. There was no point now.

Rafe tilted his head up, blue eyes searching yours. There was a sense of longing in them that you noticed every once in a while. That sad little need for approval that he couldn’t get rid of.

“Yeah, probably,” you admitted.

Fire ignited in his eyes.

Just as quickly as he became weak to you, Rafe snapped out of it. He was on his feet in seconds. He towered over you, backing you up with each step until you hit the edge of your counter.

Rafe looked down his nose at you. “Were you gonna fuck him?” he asked again, as if intimidation would change your answer.

You stared up at him, defiant. “Yeah,” you repeated, hopping up to sit on the counter. “Probably.”

Rafe’s bruised hand reached up to cup your face. He watched his thumb as it ran over your lips. When it rested on your bottom lip you opened your mouth. Rafe was transfixed as he slid the digit in. Your mouth enveloped him, swirling your tongue around his thumb. You swore you could taste a little blood.

Rafe made a noise of satisfaction and quickly removed it, covering your lips with his own, filling your mouth with his tongue instead. You moaned into the kiss. It was harsh and hungry. Everything that had been building up over the past day, hell, past years, was finally spilling out. The dam had finally broken. There was no turning back.

“You make me crazy,” he grunted against your lips when he came up for air. You panted, words failing to form as his hand slid between your bodies. “And I know I make you crazy.” His fingers slipped into your shorts and bikini bottom, which you hadn’t even gotten to show off. You hadn’t needed to. You gasped as he pressed a finger into your core. He grinned at the wetness that had already formed. “I know it ‘cause I know you.”

Rafe pressed a kiss to your lips, then your cheek, then your ear.

“Rafe,” you whispered his name, bucking against his hand. He rewarded you with pushing another finger in and thrusting them both with precision.

“I’m the only one that knows you,” he hissed. You shivered as his breath hit your ear, noting the anger. But there was something else to it. “I’m the only one who gets to have you.”

Desperation.

Rafe was desperate for you. For you to understand, for you to agree, for you to feel the same. Desperate for you to want him the way he wanted you.

“Tell me you weren’t,” he pleaded, voice shaking with the rage he was trying to contain.

He wanted you to lie.

“I wasn’t.” Rafe hummed and pressed an approving kiss to your neck. He twisted his fingers inside you, forcing a moan past your lips. His teeth sank into the skin of your neck, sucking and biting as you managed to gasp out, “I wasn’t, I swear.”

Rafe pulled his fingers from you and you whined at the loss. He made up for it by kissing his way back to your lips, swallowing your sounds. He popped the button off your shorts and tucked his hands into the waistband. You lifted yourself long enough for him to yank down your shorts, leaving you bare.

You wrapped your arms over his shoulders and kissed him harder when his hands gripped your waist and pulled you to the edge of the counter. Your teeth sank into his bottom lip, drawing an animalistic sound from him.

“Tell me you want me,” Rafe managed.

You pulled back, eyes flicking from his swollen lips to his hungry eyes. The corner of your lip quirked up a little.

“I thought it was obvious,” you mused, reaching between your bodies.

“I’m gonna fuck you either way, so you might as well just tell me.” There was a devious glint in Rafe’s eyes that sent a jolt of excitement through you.

You pulled your lip between your teeth and you undid his belt. You reached into his pants and found his cock hard and waiting for your touch. Rafe’s hands tightened on your thighs. “I want you, Rafe,” you said exactly what he wanted to hear, voice heavy with lust, every word the truth.

Rafe surged forward, capturing your lips. He shoved his pants down as you stroked him, but he had plans of his own. Rafe pushed himself closer to you, spreading your legs apart with his hips, and gripped his cock. The head pressed at your entrance and you nearly choked when he thrust in with no further warning.

“Fuck, Rafe,” you cursed. Your hands found his back, holding on as he invaded your body.

Thick and long, his cock split you open. Rafe grunted, mouth moving over you in a frenzy, kissing wherever he could reach in that second. Your top came off somewhere in the haze and you moaned as his mouth latched onto your breast. Your legs wrapped around his waist as your cunt squeezed him. Rafe’s hands found your waist again, holding you in place as he began to move.

He gave you little time to adjust but you would’ve gone crazy if he waited any longer. Rafe pulled back, letting you feel the thick drag of his cock leaving you, before he thrust in again. And again. And again. All you could do was hold on as he slammed into you, letting everything that had built up go. You welcomed it. All his anger and lust and frustration and love and just everything. Everything said and unsaid between the two of you was finally getting a resolution.

Rafe’s mouth found its way back to your neck, licking and sucking and biting your flesh. He was marking it, marking you, for the world to see. So when they saw the purple marks decorating your neck, everyone would know you belonged to him. But didn’t they know already? To some degree?

It didn’t matter to Rafe. He was making it clear. There was no room for doubt now.

Rafe fucked you like it was the last thing he’d ever do, like it was the only thing he ever wanted to do. Your moans filled the room, your curses and his grunts of your name, the sound of skin against skin, the smell of sex—all of it flooded your senses in the most thrilling way. You wanted nothing more than Rafe and nothing less than everything he was giving you.

The pleasure he inflicted was like nothing you had ever experienced and you knew in that moment nothing and no one would ever compare to the high you felt with him.

He pounded into you hard, sending jolts of electricity through your entire body. Your thighs clenched around his waist, your legs holding him against you. Rafe filled you entirely, drawing out every animalistic need you had.

“Fuck,” he cursed, lifting his head. You moaned at just the sound of his voice. “You’re so tight. Like you’re made for me.”

Your cunt clenched around him, eyes fluttering shut as your slick walls squeezed him. Your body tensed and your breaths grew even more ragged as he pushed you closer and closer towards your edge.

“Rafe, don’t stop,” you gasped out.

His hand found your throat. Your eyes snapped open as he gave it a squeeze. He forced you to meet his gaze. You nearly fell apart just from that.

“It’s always been me, hasn’t it?” he asked, wanting an answer. You nodded because yes, yes it has. “It’s always going to be only you and only me. Only me.” You nodded again, lips only parting to let out a moan when he gave a sharp thrust. “Tell me.”

“You, Rafe,” you fumbled out. “It’s always been you—it's only you,” you said in almost a plea. “I want us.”

That was exactly what he wanted to hear. Rafe gave a sound of approval and a light squeeze of your neck. His thrusts stayed sharp and precise and soon enough you were falling apart in his hold.

His cock shoving into you, his hand on your neck, the look on his face—you were consumed by Rafe and you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

You let out a cry of his name when your orgasm hit. It crashed over you in a wave, rocking your entire body. Your legs and cunt both tightened, holding him impossibly close inside you. Rafe’s lips devoured yours, smothering your moans and whimpers as you shook against him.

Rafe gave a few more rough, constricted thrusts before a deep groan escaped his lips. His hips stilled and warmth flooded your insides. He shivered against you when you slid your hands beneath his shirt and dragged your nails along his back.

His hand finally left the front of your neck, but it didn’t go far as he slid his palm to cup the back of it. Rafe pressed his forehead to yours, both of you catching your breath.

You took one hand and reached for him, running your fingers over the cut on his cheek.

“I still think you should put a bandaid on it,” you managed, voice weak.

Rafe chuckled, shaking his head as he pulled away. And just like that you two were all good again.

“I think I’ll pass.”

You smiled and rolled your eyes. “You’re so stubborn.”

“Takes one to know one. Took you this long to admit you wanted me.”

You gawked at that. “I admitted I wanted you? Seems like it was the other way around. In fact—“

But before you could finish, Rafe silenced you with a deep kiss. His cock twitched inside of you and you couldn’t help but giggle against his lips.

Rafe was only kissing you to shut you up because you were right, and he knew it too. You were always right and Rafe was going to have to learn to accept that one way or another.

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #mean!rafe #mean!reader #rafe cameron smut #obx #outer banks #quin-ns writing

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nemesyaaa · 2 months ago

Text

western nights // mean!S2!barry x kook!reader x s2!rafe

summary ; /

warnings ; mentions and using of drugs. kinda violence. barry doesn't give a shit about pogue/kook thing. threesome(mxmxf/switch). smut without real plot. shotgunning (smoking). choking. double p in v. boys kissing (if you see that challengers reference, no you don't.), oral (f&m receiving.). scars mentions. threats.(3k words.). be careful with the warnings.

author's note : i want rafe and barry back as a chaotic duo for S4 part 2, please. it's a threat, not a request. im watching you obx screenwriters.

“someone you know very well owes me money.”

you looked up from your line of cocaine in a loud snort, before sitting comfortably on the bed while rubbing your nose to clean it quickly.

"and how does that concern me barry? you have your business, i have mine. and by the way, are you stalking my clients because you're losing yours ? ”

“ you’re such a fucking ungrateful princess. let me remind you that it’s because of me that you even have a business in the first place. you were nobody before i helped you, it doesn’t matter how much of a kook you are in this business.”

"wow.. someone’s got an attitude. it's not my fault your boy chose me over you.”

"yeah, he’s gonna regret that when you fuck him over."

“and why would i do that?”

he approached you, a big blunt falling out of his lips, before leaning toward you, made you feel quietly small. a short breath escaped your throat while you shivered. a smile with a wicked expression on his eyes showed on his face. “ still afraid of me. why ? it’s been a long time since i’ve had to put you in your place. you still got that scar? ” with a sick, softened voice, he added just over your lips. “that expensive makeup covers it up real good.”

“ what do you want, barry ? ”

in the intimacy of silence between the two of you, he pressed a thumb in the corner of your lips, letting his finger open it a little wider, before pulling out and blowing smoke directly into your mouth, letting your tongue disappear on the shot.

you scoffed, before your throat had swallowed the smoke. “ i want my money. and you're gonna do what i ask you. ”

“ and if i don’t ? ”

“ you don’t have much of a choice actually.”

barry placed himself above you, more threatening than when he welcomed you into his home. you placed a hand on his chest before responding calmly. “ don't be mad at me. it's your own fault you decided to trust him. why are you giving him free shit? you know he can afford it. and don’t give any of that ‘he said he’ll bring the money next time’ bullshit, when has rafe cameron ever been trustworthy?”

“ y/n. don’t start shit you can’t finish. ” he warned.

"what do you want me to do? you have a gun, and no reputation to preserve, if you want to shoot him, he's all yours. don't involve me in this. i'm having a good relationship with my client, do not mess it up. "

“do you think it’s that easy, princess?” he laughed nervously. "obviously. you really think I can get away with taking out Rafe Cameron?”

"i just think if you really wanted to, you would. Since when does Rafe scare you anyway? "

"i had a little disagreement with ward. it’ll just be easier if you handle it."

“what do i gain from all this?”

“It’s your choice. But we’ll talk about it when we’re out of this situation.”

you sighed. the next day, you invited rafe cameron to your house. like every time you called him, he came back.

“ so, where’s the coke ? ” he asked. “ tell me you have something for me. ”

"obviously I do, I'm a dealer, what did you expect ? But do I have any for you ? that's another question. ” you frowned. your gaze was on his beaten puppy face, his eyes were glinting, completely desperate, and his voice was almost pleading and nervous. “ i think i’ve been too nice to you, rafe. maybe i should be mean for once. look at this scar you have, should i give you another one? because that’s what’s gonna happen if you don’t behave. ”

“I’m begging you, please. i'm gonna pay you back.”

"begging already? wow. tell me why i should believe you’re pay me back?”

“ just trust me. you know i have money, i just have to get it.”

“ i have no reason to trust you. “ you shook your head with a tsk tsk that meant you didn’t believe him. he was a pathological liar, it was in his nature to save his ass with lies.

you laughed in frustration, making him raise an eyebrow. "you’re gonna pay me back, huh? I’m not even the only person you owe money to. is this about what we did last time?”

“If i can recall, you were enjoying yourself just fine.” he cut in.

"rafe. you have nothing to offer me. to tell you the truth, if I really needed money, there are ways I can get it. So whatever is going on here, it’s not fair because you’re getting something out of it and I’m not.”

"I told you, I’m gonna pay you back, just please, give it to me. I’ll pay you back tomorrow.”

"We’re going to try this another way. I’ll see you tomorrow and if you have the money you owe us then you’re good. And I’ll take care of you again.”

you kicked him out of your house. the next day, he showed up in your room as you were coming out of your shower. you planned to procrastinate all day before he stormed off like crazy.

"What are you doing? You think you can show up here like this?”

“I have your fucking money. now, i want my coke. i did what you wanted me to do ! ”

you smiled, while giving a pat on his curtain bangs. “ good job, pretty boy. ”

“where’s the coke? give it to me. ”

“i don’t have any.” you replied.

rafe laughed, a nervous and uncomfortable laugh. he took a few steps towards you, pushing you against the wall.

“rafe?”

“where’s the fucking coke? ”

“dude, are you high?” you asked, suddenly unwell by the rising tension you can't feel through the air. “ i just tol...”

he was mad, more than that, frustrated. the way you played with his feelings, you were making him go around in circles. and his hands began to irritate him, to make him wickedly agitated. which meant that he was gradually losing control because you were showing that it was you who had the power. he was just asking for drugs, only a little. it was such a small ask in his eyes, just a fucking line how you gave him some every time he came. like a child's whim, you couldn't take away from him what you had always given him. from his point of view, it was not okay.

and the thing was, you were doing it just now. he felt a horrible chaos inside him which made him spiral. his hands fell terribly on your throat, fingers wrapping in tight around you like a collar.

"i just asked you a question. and you better hope your answer is what i want to hear, because if it’s not this isn’t gonna be fun for you.” he whispered, his lips softly ghosting over yours.

“you’re scaring me….rafe ”

“ good, maybe now you’ll show me some fucking respect.”

he grabbed you by the throat, forcing you to bend your knees so that you were at his feet. you coughed, and he responded with a smirk.

“i don’t have your fucking coke. "

“but you know what, that’s not fair. i held up my end of the deal, o got your money and you don’t have my coke.”

he slipped each of the bills against your tongue down to the exact amount he owed you, forcing your mouth to stay open.

"not having so much fun now, huh?”

“ what a great surprise, my two favorite people in the same place. " had commented a voice behind the kook.

it was barry. you and rafe both shivered. at the same time.

“what the hell is this ?” rafe replied.

“relax country club, i didn’t come to give you a hard time. ”

“so why are you here ?” Rafe replied.

you spat the money back into your mouth and barry came closer to you.

“what the hell are you doing here?” you replied.

"so you're stealing my clients, you're taking my money and what more, you're lying to me?" barry had wisely articulated.

“wait, what do you mean?”

“shut up, rafe.”

“barry, it’s not what you think.”

"that's exactly what i believe. but you know what I believe even more? is that you need to be taught a fucking lesson.yeah, spoiled, rich girls like you need to learn that they can't play with everyone. come on, country club. ”

“barry.” you started. " listen..."

"I would love to listen to you, princess but I'm going to have a hard time doing once i fill that pretty mouth with my cock."

“what?” you retorted.

" oh you know, i'm in a grear mood. you seem to really enjoy playing with people around you. guess today, it's just my turn to play. i'm also thinking we should invite rafe to this game. would be fair actually. will princess be able to say sorry after being her nasty mouth being fucked to death ? ” replied barry by pulling you by the side of your face, hair caged in his grip, making you gasp.

“ pretty sure, bitch like her can. ”

" you're too high to even know where you put your dick. ” you said.

“ very funny. ”he laughed in a sarcastic way, before pulling his pants down, his cock slapping against his stomach, following his movement by plunging it straight into your mouth, one hand with rings covering your throat, pressed tightly his fingers against the back of your neck. “still funny?” he continued as he pushed himself even deeper, feeling his dick deep down in the inside of your pleasing mouth widening around him. “ can't even answer now. ”

Barry smiled before undressing his pants, guiding your hand to his own cock. you quickly got the hang of it, starting to masturbate him, your free hand circled around his full length stroking back and forth, all the while having rafe’s thick length, lodged hard in your throat.

your fist was wrapped around barry’s cock, fingers tightening and sliding around his girth quickly while rafe was buried completely inside your mouth, fucking you faster on the tongue. you already started to get soaked on the inside of your thighs, the wet forming a damp spot on the fabric of your underwear.

both boys stood in front of you, above your kneeling position while you were at their commands. barry invited himself into your mouth, his cock next to rafe's hitting your dripping, sloppy tongue. their two dicks were working your throat at the same time, same pace as your muscle rolled over the two shafts that stretched you open. you could feel the weight of their lengths filling your stuffed mouth. your face was weeping with spit and saliva.

you grabbed their cocks with your free hands, sucking with your mouth and pumping with your fingers, their grunts hovering in the room.

your mouth was completely blocked by the growing size of their dick. rafe smeared all the drool from your mouth on your face, before spitting on your tongue, followed by barry. you touched them both while continuing to deepthroat the two boys. you let your tongue run on the veiny flesh of their dick, trailing your wet muscle around their veins, followed by balls lapping. your received both of their cocks so well like you were always made for this. you coughed several times, letting a trickle of saliva slip from your jaw. they both pulled out, before slapping their cocks on your drooling cheeks. your face was pressed with tears, running down your skin to the floor.

“don’t be lazy, open your legs. ” ordered rafe.

you had spread your thighs, leaving them with a full view of your glistening pussy. “ but look at you, already so wet, soaking like a mess when neither rafe or me already touched you. ” barry mocked.

rafe pushed your glossy lips apart with two fingers making you suck on them, stuffing you full in the mouth to the throat and barry found a place between your legs, and trailed his tongue against your folds filled with wetness that poured over his face.

he traced your clit, before eating out your hole that was pulsing against his messy mouth, the way his tongue licked your slit, slurping in and out, before circling your beating clit. his lips were wrapped around you, dirty lapping your cunt as rafe taking his thick fingers deeper in your throat to the point you choked on them. he cleaned them with his own mouth, before diving his thumb in your lips. the corner of your mouth were foaming as he roughly brushed his digits inside your cavity, two fingers fucking your tongue and throat, as barry widly sucking your cunt. your taste were flowing and he keeping it before kissing you slowly, let in drip back in your mouth.

“ do not swallow it. i bet country club wants a taste of you…” he commented, through the kiss.

without swallowing, you kissed rafe, moving your lips against his and released your tongue over his own. you were over the moon, both of them kissing you, tongue mixed with streams of saliva, and nasty spits.

you placed your hand through your slit, before pushing your fingers against rafe's mouth, forcing him to open wider while you do the same with your other hand with barry's mouth, feeding the two boys with your juice flowing around their hanged jaw. you rushed your digits further in their throat, as they gasped around them. you were so turned on, the way they were literally drooling like dogs over your hands was making you feel insane.

you slowly pulled out your hands as their faces got closer to each other, while watching them kissing through your dirty fingers. you watched them with a twisted smile, as rafe hand reached the throat of barry, his thumb running over his cheek. your gaze was focused on them, and your ears filled with the wet and horny sound of them licking each other. that was hot, and you hated how hot it was. “ are you gonna fuck or should i do it all the work myself ? ”

“ want to be fucked so bad ? ” cutted rafe.

“ is my legs open enough for you, rafe ? ” you said, teasing him flirty.

“ she's really asking for it. ” answered barry.

“ which one's gonna fuck me first ? ”

they both laughed at you as you said something very funny. you raised an eyebrow.

“ you're gonna take us.”

“ it's not gonna fit. ”

“ it's gonna fit. because that pussy is tired of being tight. ”

when they started fucking you it made the heat rise inside you. your whole body was horribly hot, their two cocks were both pressed and stuck in the same hole. you gripped the sheets with your fist, while they stretched your weeping pussy over and over, shoving every inch of their cocks into your soaking pussy. your head was spinning as you lost yourself completely, your flesh smushed onto the mattress. both wrecked your canal, and hitting every one of your spots. you felt strange spasms, a mixture of pleasure and pain as you trembl d and moaned under their thrusts.

“ don't fucking cry, you're the one who wanted those cocks inside you. was too mean to do what your pussy begged for ? too late. neither rafe nor i are going to stop. ” shouted barry while ramming his hips against you in a brutal stroke, making you whine harder.

“ pl-please…”

“ the only thing you need to “ please please ” is for us to fuck you even harder. ” continued the curtain bangs one with a sick smile around his lips.

rafe shutted you cries with a rough snap of his hips, his firm body slammed into yours, while barry next to him, pounded you in the same raw way. his hair was messy as yours, unbrushed and bouncing against his shoulders, as the air became more hotter. you were crying and panting for breath like a crybaby, tits swaying while your vision was getting blurred.

the kook one grabbed your face, hollowing your cheeks with his fingers, before spitting in your open mouth, watching his globe of saliva dripping from your glossy lips. inspired, barry spat on rafe's mouth, forbid him to swallow with his hand brushed on his partner jaw before letting the spit drooling over your mouth.

the pace sped up, as your pussy squeezed them like a vice, the room filled with the wet smacking sounds of your core getting speared roughly. they were fucking you deeply, your cunt dripping around them as they thrusted into you back and forth, all spots getting touch.

next position, you were bouncing on rafe's dick, big hand tugged on your hips, your ass jiggling against and slamming into his large spreaded thighs, as barry letting you suck on his dick. you were giddy, feeling overheated, messing everywhere on both of them. they were working on each part of your body, the overstimulation draining you.

“ suck it well, pretty thing.” he grabbed your jaw, his glare locked into your teary eyes. “ don't forget that you have still another free hole. and trust me, you don't want two cocks in. ”

your mouth found barry's cock, tongue out and wrapped around his crazy shaft, as you slowly pushed your muscle above his tip. you were now used to it, and sucked it directly to the throat, you spitting on it before licking to feel the size hitting the deep of your neck. you were like a dizzy free-use doll that were fucked to heaven.

you placed the dick of barry between your swayed tits that was unstoppable because of rafe's hard strokes on your sloppy cunt. your cunt that was actually filled by his large cock. before starting to pump the dealer with your boobs, you caged the painful boner in the middle of your breasts, and pressed them to the bulging girth before moving up and down quickly. when you heard his raspy grunts near your ears, his mouth and breath brushed your sensitive skin, you accelerated the pace, leaving him growling speechless.

few minutes later, he came around your neck, painting your flesh with white loads. rafe released his cum in you five minutes after, while kissing you, swallowing every breath of yours.

you fell on your back, completely exhausted. “ you guys…are crazy…”

“ just the beginning. ”

489 notes · View notes

superyum · 7 months ago

Text

𝙩𝙮𝙥𝙚; 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙣, 𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙙

𝙞𝙣𝙘𝙡𝙪𝙙𝙚𝙨; 𝙣𝙤𝙣𝙗𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙧𝙮 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙬/ 𝙛𝙚𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙖𝙩𝙤𝙢𝙮, 𝙛𝙡𝙪𝙛𝙛, 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙨𝙩, 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙤𝙪𝙩, 𝙙𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙘 𝙨𝙞𝙩𝙪𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨, 𝙥 𝙞𝙣 𝙫, 𝙫 𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙥 𝙨𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙧𝙤𝙡𝙚𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙮, 𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙤𝙛 𝙬𝙚𝙩 𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢, 𝙙𝙞𝙧𝙩𝙮 𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙠/𝙥𝙧𝙖𝙞𝙨𝙚

𝙩𝙩𝙢; 𝙞 𝙨𝙖𝙬 𝙖 𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙩 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝘽𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙮 𝙜𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙪𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙚 & 𝙨𝙚𝙚𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙖𝙞𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙖 𝙛𝙖𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙮 𝙖𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙨 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙗𝙨𝙛 & 𝙄 𝙙𝙤𝙣’𝙩 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬, 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩’𝙨 𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙖 𝙨𝙩𝙪𝙘𝙠 𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙨𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙩𝙘𝙧𝙪𝙨𝙝! 𝙄𝙧𝙞𝙨.

Predating! Barry who after many, many years of being secretly in love with Iris, decides that’s it time to stop waiting on her to get outta her relationship and finally notice him, but instead to move on.

Predating! Barry who has some really bad, ridiculous even, dates after coming to that conclusion. He’s starting to regret taking the dating scene seriously again.

Predating! Barry who bumps into you on his was leaving Jitters because he was late getting to a crime scene for his job. No surprise.

Predating! Barry who becomes tongue tied when he actually gets a good look at you—he definitely stares at you mouth agape for about a minute before snapping out of it.

“I-I am so sorry! I didn’t mean to—I’m late for work.” he sputters out, hands waving around as he gestures to a random direction then to his case and then you.

Predating! Barry who almost fumbled the bag if he didn’t turn back around to awkwardly ask to buy you a coffee as an apology. Not now though! He had to get to work.

Predating! Barry who despite being a spontaneous coffee date, super speeds through over a dozen outfits that he think might impress you. Call him a try hard, but all the dates before this one were rough. He had a good feeling about you.

Predating! Barry who shows up early to said date, only to find you already there. Color him impressed and flattered.

Predating! Barry who manages to not say anything stupid during the date, at least nothing that didn’t make you laugh. Did he mention you have a really nice laugh? Yes. Yes, he did. He accidentally thought it out loud…

Predating! Barry who starts to feel like there’s something there; a spark between the two of you, otherwise you wouldn’t have agreed to a second date. Or a third, fourth or fifth one.

Predating! Barry who after the fifth date confesses he didn’t want to go on anymore dates where you weren’t officially his partner.

It was a peaceful night along the board walk of Central Park. The sun long set; the moon settling in the sky and yet the time slipping away didn’t matter to either Barry or you.

The conversation was airy, as it always was between you two. It flowed smoothy discussing your passions and dislikes that there was never a dull moment.

Barry noticed it never was with you. He stops, watching as you continue to walk before you turn around after noticing he wasn’t beside you.

He felt it, the way his tongue suddenly felt heavy in his mouth when you look at him with concern. But he had to say it—it was now or never—he didn’t want another Iris situation.

“Listen… I…I really like you—you’re amazing, pretty and—and smart! Will you go out with me?..”

There’s silence before you answer, “I thought we were already going out.”

Barry open and close his mouth multiple times before answering, “Well yeah but I mean officially—as lovers…?”

Boyfriend! Barry who is the most romantic man you’ve ever dated. Never fails to greet you with flowers every Saturday date night. And every date is different than the next, sometimes you’d order in and he’d have the most authentic food you’ve ever tasted. Can’t find it anywhere in town.

Boyfriend! Barry who starts to feel some sense of normalcy. When he’s not the Flash, he’s just a guy who’s crashing into your arms after a long day at work. You ask about his day and vice versa, carding your hand through his hair as his breathing slows because this, you, were starting to feel like home.

Boyfriend! Barry who despite still running late to work, makes you breakfast every morning with the best coffee in the city before you’re even up in the morning. How’d he have enough time to do all this always amazed you. He even leaves a little love note on a sticky note, “I miss you,” or “You look beautiful this morning”.

Boyfriend! Barry who enjoys the little domestic moments of your relationship: washing the dishes as you dry them, reading the same book at the same pace so you can discuss it together, when you fix his tie on the off chance of waking up before him, something so mundane as brushing teeth before sleep before sharing a kiss in bed.

Boyfriend! Barry who tries so hard to keep his superhero lifestyle separate from his civilian lifestyle. He didn’t want you hurt because everyone that knows always gets hurt… he can’t lose you. Not when he’s starting to…

Boyfriend! Barry who is the “first” to bring up moving in together. He has all these facts to back up his reasoning without you even needing to question him: He practically already lives at your place, half his clothes are there, his tooth brush, he never really goes home and always spends the night with you.

Boyfriend! Barry who you once again shock with a “Barry, I already gave you a key to my place. I thought it was obvious..” and a shy smile. That’s what that key was for? He thought it was just in case of emergencies. He was rambling for nothing!

Boyfriend! Barry who doesn’t come home for hours until all his meta-human business injuries are 100% healed. He’s not ready to tell you about that side of him yet. Life was perfect; you are perfect.

Boyfriend! Barry whose little white lies turn to even bigger lies when you see something red on his collar one night. He panics, says it’s from work but you start to think something else.

Boyfriend! Barry whose, try as he might, superhero lifestyle starts to interfere with his relationship. Usually he can be in and out before you even notice depending on the situation, but a new dangerous meta has started to reck havoc over the city and he was the only one to save it.

Boyfriend! Barry who starts to leave in the middle of date night, apologizing as he stumbles to put his shoes on, “I have to—It’s work. I’m sorry,” before kissing you with so much emotion, he hopes you get the message—you don’t.

Boyfriend! Barry who starts to miss date night, in fact sometimes he doesn’t even come home during the weekdays. Nevermind it’s because he’s in the middle of a fight or beaten so badly that he stays at Starlabs—you’re worried, feelings with insecurity and doubt rise in you because he hasn’t been answering his phone.

Boyfriend! Barry whose relationship starts to slowly crumble. You’re still present but it’s like there’s this wall suddenly blocking him from reaching you. You’re distant and your smile doesn’t reach your eyes these days. Every time he touches you, you brush away so subtlety he would have missed it if he wasn’t so engrossed in you.

Boyfriend! Barry who still lies when you start to ask questions, deflecting them with answers that further puts a dent in the relationship. Questions turn to arguments, arguments turn to sleeping in separate rooms.

Boyfriend! Barry who can’t say he didn’t know where it started to go wrong but he does. He just thought he could make it work, he needs it to work with you. He needs you. Whether you know it or not, you’re his lighting rod.

Barry stares at the door handle to your shared apartment, stomach twisted in knots at where the stage of your relationship has gotten. He hasn’t thought that he’d ever be coming home to a full house yet it feels so empty without you beside him.

He unlocks the door and turns the handle to open, a rush of cold air hits his face. Feels just like the cold shoulder you’re given him. All because he couldn’t out right and tell you he was The Flash.

He locks the door behind him, his body moving instinctively to the bedroom. He wanted to make sure you were alright—his whole reasoning is to make sure you’re always alright.

But you weren’t alright. He wasn’t alright. You weren’t talking like you both used to and it was literally killing him inside. Maybe there was a little fear in telling you who he was. Everyone else is accepting of it, what if you weren’t?

From where he’s standing, outside your door, listening to any sign that your home and not where you thought he might be, he realizes either way this ends, there’s a chance you could leave him. So why does it matter hiding it now?

Boyfriend! Barry who dressed as the Flash surprises you by suddenly standing in your shared bedroom. You’re both amazed and shocked as you cling to your book. How is the Flash in your room—How does he know where you live!?

Boyfriend! Barry whose heart is beating fast even for his normal standards. This is the closest he’s been to you in a week. You’re still has stunning as the first day he’s seen you. But he has to focus. He’s not here to admire you. He has to patch this hole in the relationship or completely destroy it all together.

Boyfriend! Barry who uses his voice change at first, tells you how he really feels. That he’s a hero, risking his life for the city, fighting meta-humans. It’s a dangerous job, but it’s even more dangerous for the people he loves.

Boyfriend! Barry who voice cracks as he talks about you without directly tell you it’s about you. Goes on and on how he wasted his whole life, despite still being friends, on someone else and when he finally finds someone he loves, he tries to protect them the only way he knows how. But his protection is what’s tearing them apart.

Barry reverts back to his normal voice before stepping out the darkness, “I thought I could juggle both lives without you ever getting involved. I thought I had it handled and we can live our life just like everyone else. But I was wrong. I shouldn’t have kept it from you.” He pulls his mask off, reveling your boyfriend, “From now, there is no more secrets between us. I miss you, baby.”

Boyfriend! Barry who waits with batted breath looking at your blank face, watching you get up from the bed and walk over to him. Reaching a hand out, you touch his suit, tracing his symbol.

Boyfriend! Barry who confirms with words that he’s the Flash after you ask him if this was what he’s been doing when he’s not with you, when he doesn’t answer your calls or leaves suddenly during a date.

Boyfriend! Barry who feels the same relief you do when you say, “Thank God”, and drop your head on his chest, hugging him close. He returns your hug, if not, more bone crushing than yours. Thank God indeed, he really loves you.

Boyfriend! Barry who almost gave away his secret the first time you make-out. You’ve kissed multiple times before but never had you sat in his lap, pushing your chest against his, and grind down on his growing erection. There was so much stimulation, it was overwhelming. He’s lucky you were so horny to accept his explanation of an intense shiver and not him vibrating.

Boyfriend! Barry who curses and thanks the lucky bastard who taught you how to give head before him. The first time you went down on him, it was utterly filthy, he was the one embarrassed. But he couldn’t look away. Your small hand barely reaching round him made him throb, you can feel his excitement on your tongue when you pull back to give the underside of his head some attention, before slobbering back down his cock again.

Boyfriend! Barry who groans loudly the first time he bottomed out inside you. So wet yet tight, entry was easy, your hole was practically sucking him in. It made it difficult for him to think straight inside your warmth. He’s surprised himself he hasn’t came from that alone. He was so painfully hard, the head didn’t even make him go down.

Boyfriend! Barry whose favorite part of your body is your legs and thighs. Doesn’t matter if they’re thin, thick, toned or fatty. The first place he always grabs is your thighs, gliding his hands up and down your legs so slowly it’s ticklish. Stop laughing, he’s trying to map every inch of you into his memory.

Boyfriend! Barry who prefers slow sex over quick sex. It’s the one thing he doesn’t want to rush, taking his time making you squirm and beg for him to give you more. You’re so pretty lying there, how can anyone ever want to stop? He ends up overstimulating himself and you, orgasm after orgasm.

Boyfriend! Barry who favorite positions are cowgirl and missionary. Anything that lets him see your face or feel you closer. He bites his lips bloody watching your breast bounce up and down when he decides to pick up speed or feeling them violently against his chest as he lays on top of you.

Boyfriend! Barry who will wake you up with head. He’s no stranger to seeing you in his dreams. It’s only fair he makes you feel as good as you’ve made him. It’s like he’s making out to your pussy, the way he laps at your soon to be puffy folds and suckle on your growing clit. He pulls an orgasm out of you, successfully waking you up. Ask him why, he’ll say he missed you while you slept.

Boyfriend! Barry who found out you have a thing for him in uniform, that while he’s still adrenaline rushed after dealing with Metas, he finds you and fucks you on the closest surface nearby. He’s rougher, faster, filling your hole with his cock, angling it just right it has you moaning in unison at you clenching down on him and your coming in no time at all.

Boyfriend! Barry who doesn’t think he’s good at dirty talk but the way he praises you and basically announces the way he worships everything about you in bed has you spreading your legs wider as if he did say the filthiest line on earth.

Boyfriend! Barry who becomes way into roleplaying the hero who saves you from an evil villain. Don’t you worry, he’ll protect you—no thanks necessary, it’s his job. But if you insist… after all, how can he to reject the way you kneel in front of him, doe eyes blinking up at him seductively and rubbing him to full hardness? Under the suit, he’s still just a man.

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chimindity · 5 months ago

Text

I'm a drug dealer, not a piercer

Summary | reader getting a belly piercing by Barry.

Pairing | Barry x Rafe's sister!reader

Warning | needle and piercing, no smut and nothing too triggerable I guess, Rafe shows up at the end!!

A/N | I kinda love it! I apologize if there's any mistake once again

✦ ⎯⎯ㅤִㅤ୭ ୨♡୧ ৎㅤִ ⎯⎯ ✦

Whenever you hang out at Barry with Rafe, your older brother.

you always get amazed by Barry's diamond earring, wondering if he piercied himself or not, you always wanted to get your belly piercied but Rafe keeps telling you to not do it cause it's useless and would be too painful for you.

So this is what got you there, standing infront Barry's front door,

-"goddamn it, Rafe I told you I was gonna be bu-" he was in the middle of talking when he opens the door and sight you wearing a white tank top, a light pink shorts, your hair styled with two braids, not expecting you at all to show up at his, especially on his day off.

-"what got you here, cutie? And where did your bro go?" He smirks as he leads you inside his trailer.

You look back at him closing the door, as you get nervous and start fidgeting with your hands.

-"s'just came here to uh ask you a favor" you say nervously, you never heard Barry talk about being a piercer or whatever despite the fact that he's a drug dealer.

He sits down on the couch not taking his eyes off you.

-"go ahead tell me, I ain't going to bite you, come here sweetheart" he smiles at you gesturing with his hand for you to sit next to him.

-"i want to get my belly pierced" you say nervously looking at him to find any signs of approval or whatever, but he would have never guessed this kind of question, so when he heard those words leave your mouth.

-"uhm, listen, I'm not your brother or even your dad 'kay? Does Rafe even know you're here?" He sits up on the couch while you start getting upset at his reaction.

-"no, and he doesn't even need to know, please come on! I swear I'll do everything you ask me to after that."

You place both of your hands on his knees looking up at him, giving your best puppy eyes, as you start pleading he looks away from you, gently moving your face away.

-"there's no way, if ever your brother find out, i'll be death the seconds he walk through that damn door" he huffs finally glancing back at you.

-"m'sorry kiddo" he says lifting up your chin to keep you still from squirming, you are almost all over him at this point, not even noticing you're straddling his lap.

-"i'll hide it! And i promise you he'll never found out" you speak in a flirty tone hoping it would make him change his mind.

Then you hear him sigh and roll his eyes,

-"a'right fine, fine I'll do it but no words to him y'hear me?" He points his finger at you as a warning, you simply nodd at him while smiling.

-"s'good now lay down on that couch" he stands up and grab a small silver box, your eyes widen at the thought he could be a piercer.

-"are you a piercer?" You ask obliviously as you watch him pull out a sterile needle, and a cute jewerly.

-"no, just something i've bought incase I wanted to get myself another piercing now please lay down" he sighs again picking a small wipe to disinfect the area of your belly.

You raise your head up laying down on your elbows, you look at him suddenly a question pops in your mind.

-"uh, you're not wearing any gloves?" You catch him off guard, a confusing look forms on his face.

-"Y/n I'm not a piercer, i'm simply a drug dealer why the hell would I need gloves for?" He's starting to get frustrated with your questions and your impatience, you nodd at him pouting and stop talking for a while.

Until he is the one breaking the silence, holding the needle in his hand you suddenly start regretting your choice.

-"i'ma need you to take a deep breath like a big girl, can you do that for me?" He speaks in a soft tone stroking your thigh, as he notices your body tenses up.

-"uhm yes I can.." you say quietly reaching your hand to his, wanting to feel any sign of comfort.

-"please can I hold your hand?" You mumble feeling the need to squeeze his hand incase it hurts too much, he looks at you and his smirk grows wider.

-"i can't sweetie, i'll have to use both of my hands but here squeeze my thigh if needed" he sits closer to you and you immeditaly place your hand on his lap.

-"kay, ready? 1,2.." he exclaims, you wait for 3 to come, but instead a stinging pain is felt in your navel, you squeeze your hand on his lap as you close your eyes in pain.

-"Fuck you!" You whimper in pain, feeling his left hand quickly strikes your thigh, -"s'all good you good, we're almost done cutie" he tries to comfort you, while trying to stay focus but you couldn't stop squirming.

-"shit hey stop doing that" he huffs holding firmly your hips down, keeping your body still.

"s'feel weird and hurt" you whine, your hands make their way to your belly wanting to touch the piercing.

-"shh pull your hands away princess, you're the one who wanted this" he clips the jewerly and take the bottle of disinfectant and spray on your piercing.

-"how is it?" You manage to say still being a bit dizzy from the pain, he pats your lap then looks at you.

-"looks very pretty, here take a look" standing up from the couch he helps you sitting up, your eyes widen of happiness when you sight the pink jewerly.

-"ooh Barry!! This is exactly what I wanted" you exclaim getting up from the couch and throwing your arms over his shoulders, leaving him kisses on his cheek.

-"hey hey alright calm down, be careful! Your piercing is not healed yet" he huffs, even though he is speaking to you in that tone you know that he loves when you give him attention, but each time he has to pull you away to not lose his dignity.

He pulls you back down on your feet ruffling your hair, -"no problem kiddo, but remember do not let Rafe find out about-"

Barry was cut off when a bang on the door has been heard, you both turn to look, facing Rafe.

-"jeez, Y/n! I've been looking for you all day!" Rafe throw his hands in the air, giving Barry a confusing look.

-"what the hell are you doing here anyway?" He says lifting you up in his arms, nodding at Barry.

-"a'right, thanks I guess for babysitting here dude" Rafe smirks sarcastically as Barry is about to closes the door behind the two of you, and says,

-"any time country club your sister is the nicest girl in town" Rafe rolls his eyes and look at you, -"damn I don't want to know what you two did" he huffs making you smile.

-"you really don't want to know Rafey" you mumble starting drifting off on his shoulder as he carries you home

Taglist

@nemesyaaa @sadfury @starkeysprincess

#rafe obx #outer banks rafe #rafe cameron #outer banks #barry x reader

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rafesbabygirlx · 1 month ago

Text

I Love Him Though

Masterlist

Toxic Rafe x Kook Reader

Contents: NONCON/DUBCON, smut, breeding kink, oral (m+f receiving) name callings turns into pet name calling, daddy kink, degradation, physical abuse mentions. Unsuccessful offering (prostitution) Rafe is back and forth with emotions. Ward is dead but I still picture curtain bangs S2 Rafe when he’s ’toxic.’ That should be everything.

Not read over

Word count: 2.6k

A/N: someone let me know if I’m using warnings right. Please also I’m working in better dialogue and hope it’s improving. :)

You were the quintessential heiress princess, born into OBX’s most prominent family. The youngest of four brothers and your parents’ only daughter, you just graduated from USC in California with a business degree and returned to the island, stepping into the role of Chief Operations Officer, second only to your father. Your beauty was legendary on Figure Eight—admired by girls and desired by boys.

Alongside you was your boyfriend, Rafe Cameron—handsome, irresistible, and undeniably complicated. He went to UCLA for business. Not his first choice but he’d be damned to let you be across the country on your own. You started dating sophomore year, and despite the ups and downs, you stayed together, much to your parents’ dismay. They had warned you about the Cameron family, especially Rafe’s drug and anger issues. But the relationship felt like the one thing that was truly yours, and you didn’t care.

Not when he slapped you in front of your friends. Not when he tried to offer you to Barry as payback for a debt. (Thankfully, Barry had some decency.) Not even when he ruined a family dinner, barging in during a coke-fueled rage. You excused yourself to take care of him, understanding that it always came back to his issues with his father. This all happened during his downward spiral and issues with the Pogues. All this you heard from Sarah and not the supposed love of your life and yet you still stayed. None of these behaviors changing in LA at school.

You thought Rafe would change after his dad passed—become softer, more loving, and respectful. Instead, it pushed him deeper into anger and bitterness. While you thrived at work, earning the admiration of your family and employees, Rafe’s messages grew increasingly hostile throughout the day. You couldn’t understand how he had the time for this, given that he had taken over his father’s company. But not shocked how he just rode through it without care.

╰☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆╮

Rafe 8:50 AM: “Hey, are we getting dinner tonight?”

Rafe 12:00 PM: “Are you fucking kidding me? Three hours?!”

12:30 PM: 7 missed calls from Rafe.

Rafe 2:00 PM: “Why do I even bother with a stupid bitch like you? I could fuck anyone I want.”

You 2:05 PM: “We’re still on for dinner. Jesus Christ, Rafe, I’ve been in meetings since 7:30 AM. Do you not have anything better to do?”

Rafe 4:00 PM: “You’re questioning me about what I do? I work hard to keep my dad’s legacy alive while you probably have your daddy’s help. You’re pathetic, and I should slap some sense into you.”

Rafe 5:00 PM: “What time are you gonna be home?”

You 5:05 PM: “Six.”

╰☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆╮

Moments like these, unfortunately frequent, made you regret ever giving Rafe a key to your apartment. Even after all this time, you refused to move in with him at Tannyhill. You loved him, but the thought of living together was unbearable until he got his issues under control.

As expected, when you arrived home, Rafe was already in your kitchen. You didn’t even have a chance to put your bags down before he started. “What the fuck is your problem?!” His face was red, fists clenched.

“Rafe, I’m not doing this. I work—I actually work—and you harassing me all day with your bullshit is no—”

Before you could finish, he slapped you, grabbing you by the hair and dragging you to the bedroom, throwing you onto the bed. Your mind spun as your face burned from the sting.

Rafe's hands were rough as they tore at your clothes, leaving you exposed and vulnerable. You tried to struggle against him, but he was too strong, pinning you down with ease. His grip on your throat tightened, and you felt the sting of his words as he spat, "You wouldn't have to be treated like such a whore if you weren't such a bitch with a mouth on you."

“Fuck you Rafe, get off of me!” Your protests fell on deaf ears as Rafe's grip only tightened, his voice low and menacing. "Go ahead, finish telling me what you think," he growled, his teeth bared in a snarl. He dragged you up the bed, your head hitting the headboard with a thud, before climbing over you and trapping your arms beneath his knees. “Just be a good girl for me. Alright?”

His hand stroked his hardened length, the tip brushing against your lips as he smeared precum across your mouth. You tried to resist, but Rafe's anger only escalated. "Fine, I guess we can do this the hard way," he sneered, his grip on your throat becoming a vice.

You struggled for breath as Rafe's hand closed around your throat, his grip tightening until you could barely gasp for air. Just as you thought you would suffocate, Rafe thrust himself inside you, his hands gripping your hair as he pumped furiously. He didn't care about your comfort or your well-being; all that mattered was his pleasure and your punishment.

╰☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆╮

You were suffocating, your airway constricted by Rafe's girth and your own helplessness. His cock felt like a vice around your throat, choking the life out of you as he thrust deeper, his grunts echoing in your ears. "Open up and look at me, let me know who your daddy is," he growled, his voice low and menacing.

You struggled to open your eyes, but the discomfort was too much, and tears streamed down your cheeks, blurring your vision. Rafe yanked your hair, the pain searing through you, and slapped you hard across the cheek. "LOOK!" he bellowed, his voice echoing through the room.

You complied, your eyes watering as you gazed up at him, your vision a blurry mess. Rafe's eyes lit up with perverse pleasure. "Yeah, there are those pretty eyes, my pretty fucking slut looks so good choking on me," he crooned, his voice dripping with sick satisfaction.

His thrusts became sloppy and erratic, his cock slipping in and out of your throat with a wet, slapping sound. Drool pooled at your chin, his balls slapping it making the drool drip down to your chest as you struggled to breathe. Your body felt numb, your mind foggy with pain and fear.

Rafe didn't seem to care, lost in his own pleasure and power trip. He gripped your hair tighter, his hips bucking wildly as he continued to thrust, his cock jamming deeper into your throat. The pain was unbearable, but you knew that stopping would only make it worse.

And so you lay there, trapped beneath him, your throat ravaged by his cock, your body broken and bruised, as Rafe continued to throat fuck you like an animal, his pleasure the only thing that mattered. Finally with one final thrust he came down your throat. The warm liquid somewhat soothing the sting of pain that’s there.

╰☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆╮

He moves back to in between your thighs and his hands gripping your hips. Your arms now rushing with blood again are limp next to your body, no feeling to them and Rafe sat on them for what felt like an eternity. Your breath comes in ragged gasps as you try to push him away, but he holds you firmly in place. "Please, Rafe, stop," you beg, tears streaming down your face. He ignores your pleas, his eyes filled with a mix of anger and lust.

He kneels there, not moving. You sit up to look at him better through tears as you cry. His hands still grip your hips tightly, holding you in place. You try to wriggle free, but he doesn't budge. His face is inches from yours, his breath hot on your skin as he glares at you. You just want him away from you.

"You're mine," he says, his voice low and threatening. "You'll learn to stay in line." He doesn't move, just sits there, his body a heavy burden on yours. You're trapped, unable to escape his grip or his gaze. He hands you his undershirt to wipe your face of the drool and tears. You just cry into it.

The silence is oppressive, the air thick with tension. You sob quietly, trying to break free, but he holds you firm. Time seems to stand still as you lie there, helpless in front him. His eyes never leave you.

He finally breaks the heavy silence, his voice low and hesitant. “I’m sorry, baby girl. I love you so much, and I don’t want to be without you, but sometimes you need to learn your lesson.”

Tears stream down your face as you clutch his shirt, your voice trembling as you respond, “Rafe, I can’t do this anymore. You’re possessive, overbearing… and it scares me. Why can’t you understand that?” Your voice cracks, the words carrying years of frustration and fear.

He brushes off your plea, offering a half-hearted, “I know, I know. Let me make it up to you, show you I care.” His eyes are distant, his apology empty. He doesn’t understand. He never really listens, and deep down, you know he’s counting on you not doing anything about it.

Without acknowledging the depth of your pain, he lifts your chin and kisses you—deep, consuming, as if that alone could erase everything. His hands move with practiced ease, guiding you back onto the bed. His lips trail down your neck, planting soft kisses, sucking in your nipples, down your stomach and to your thighs, but the tenderness feels misplaced, hollow.

His thumb starts tracing gentle circles on your clit, while the rest of you is screaming, begging for him to stop. But the weight of his presence, the years of manipulation, pin you down as surely as his body does. He peels your panties off, his breath hot against your skin as he licks up your cunt, but it all feels wrong. It feels wrong but you can’t help but moan.

He begins to devour you, his tongue working magic on your sensitive clit. You're telling yourself no, but all you can get out are moans when you buck your hips up into him. He keeps working, sucking and licking at your pussy as he slides two fingers into you. "Oh my god, Rafe, right there," you force out between pants, your body trembling with pleasure. He looks up at you, a wicked smile on his face as he takes in your contorted expression. He loves this power he holds over you, and you can't help but be consumed by it.

Finally, he releases his fingers and mouth from you, climbing over you like a predator stalking its prey. He stares down at you, his eyes burning with desire, and you look up at him, your heart pounding in your chest. For a second, he doesn't look like the evil man that terrifies you. "I want you to be happy, to be loved," he whispers, his voice low and husky. "Can we please be happy together, no more of these crazy ways?" You ask. He smiles, rubbing his thumb over your cheek, and without saying another word, he lines himself up and thrusts into you, hard and fast. His eyes lock onto yours, and you feel like you're being consumed by him, body and soul.

His pace is relentless, your body shuddering beneath him as he pounds into you. Your eyes roll back in your head, but he grabs your chin, pulling your gaze back to his. "Look at me, baby, look at who does this for you," he growls, his voice low and demanding.

You obey, staring into his eyes as he continues to fuck you. "No one can make you feel this good," he says, his fingers digging into your hips. "This pussy was made for me, I should fill you up and get you pregnant. What would your parents say if I knocked you up, huh? I know they hate me, hate who I am. But you love me, I know you do. Ugh, you wouldn't be clenching me like this if you didn't."

You don't reply, your eyes locked onto his as he continues to thrust into you. You know he's right; you'd love to have a family with Rafe, to feel him inside you, to know that he's the one who made you pregnant. "Tell me who you belong to," he demands, his fingers pinching your clit.

"You... I belong to you daddy," you whimper, your body trembling with pleasure. "I'm all yours."

"That's right, baby," he says, rubbing circles into your clit with his thumb. "When you listen, you get a reward." You lift your right leg over his shoulder knowing you’d get him at the perfect angle to hit your G-spot.

"I'm so close, Rafe," you cry out, your body arching off the bed. "Keep going."

He grins, his eyes burning with desire. "Me too, sweet girl," he says, thrusting harder. "Tell me where you want me. You want what I said? To fill you up, get you pregnant?"

"Yes, daddy," you moan out a lie, your body convulsing around him. "Fuck, fill me up."

He groans, you cum hard and he follows suit. His eyes rolling back as he cums deep inside you. He stays like that for a moment, before pulling out and watching his cum drip from you. Then he’s sticking a finger inside shoving the cum back in. "Gotta make sure it sticks, mama," he says, using the endearment that makes you shudder. He confuses it as a good one.

He leans down and kisses you, his tongue thrusting into your mouth as he holds you close. You can feel his heart pounding against your chest, his body still trembling with passion. You know that this is just the beginning, that Rafe will keep pushing you, keep taking you to new heights.

“Y’know I love you right?” All you can do is nod.

╰☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆╮

You’re trapped between what you want to feel and what you know—caught in a cycle you’re terrified to break.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Rafe pulls away and silently rises from the bed. You lie there, motionless, feeling broken, battered, and emotionally drained as his absence fills the room. Curled up on your side, you stare at the wall, your mind numb, listening to the sound of him turning on the shower. The water runs, but it does nothing to drown out the hollow ache settling in your chest.

This has become your reality—a constant 360 with Rafe, a never-ending cycle of hurt, apologies, and hollow promises. Round and round, you go, lost in this whirlwind of love, control, and regret. You loved him once, loved him deeply, and you still find yourself missing the boy he used to be. The one who made you laugh, who held you like you were the only thing that mattered. But that boy feels like a distant memory now, replaced by someone who uses love as a weapon.

You convince yourself that he must love you—he has to. Why else would he want you to feel this way? He wouldn’t go to such lengths to make you feel good if he didn’t care, right? It’s a lie you tell yourself over and over, a story that comforts you even when the truth is painfully clear. You know it’s a manipulation tactic, one he’s used time and time again, but it works every time.

And you let it work because the idea of leaving, of being without him, despite your parents pleas, is scarier than staying trapped in this vicious circle.

#rafe cameron #rafe x reader #outerbanks rafe #rafe obx #rafe cameron x reader #rafe smut #rafe imagine #rafe fic #rafe x you #rafe fanfiction #rafe outer banks #rafe x kook!reader #toxic rafe cameron #toxic!rafe #my works ✨

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erwinsvow · 9 months ago

Text

𝐫𝐜 - 𝟏:𝟒𝟓𝐩𝐦

“i told ya to stay at home,” rafe says, fingers gripping the steering wheel of his truck tightly, knuckles turning white before your eyes. you don’t look up at him—your moody gaze focusing out of the window instead, staring at the trees and the pavement instead of your boyfriend.

maybe you shouldn’t have complained so much. you know he’s right, because after all, you had begged to tag along with him for the day. normally rafe can hold his own—can refuse and let you down easy with a promise to come back later and spend the rest of the day doing whatever you want, which is more often than not just crashing at tannyhill and watching a movie. you inevitably fall asleep and stay the night, just like what had happened last night.

and then this morning, clad just in rafe’s button-up and some socks, you pad up to him and look at him sweetly.

“no, no, you’re jus’ gonna start complainin’ the second you get bored-”

“i won’t! no complaints here, none,” you had insisted, giving him your best pout and puppy eyes.

“i have real shit to get done today, kid, important business-”

“i won’t say anything! you won’t even know i’m there, rafe-”

rafe had given in eventually—squeezing your cheeks together with his hand before you got in the passenger seat of his car, after opening the door for you.

“when you start complainin’, i’m gonna make you regret it. hm?” you had squeaked out an agreeing noise, quickly following up with a promise to stay quiet before climbing into your seat.

that had been hours ago. in that time, rafe had stopped at several houses, gone inside and spent time talking to other people—some you recognized, others not so much—and ended up here, with you waiting, your feet on his dash while he was inside with barry. the minutes were dragging into hours at this point, your entire body feeling tired and achy from the position. the air in the car felt a little suffocating and paired with the heat of the sun pouring through the windows, nothing you could do would make you feel comfortable.

rafe’s one rule had been not to get out of the car while he was inside. in your attempt to follow his instructions, you felt yourself getting more and more frustrated, a certain crankiness bubbling up inside you, making one of its rare appearances.

you tried to scroll through your phone and play music—which failed immediately since there was no service out here. you tried to eat the candy you kept in his glovebox, but it was melted beyond the point of remaining edible. you tried, you really did, but just like rafe had predicted, you started complaining the second he got back in the truck.

“you think, what? that i say that shit for me? no, kid, i’m saying it for you, ‘cause i know you get fed up in the car when i’m fuckin’ busy tryna make some money, being fuckin’ proactive for us-”

“but i-”

“no excuses. i told you to stay home. you gonna get an attitude with me? huh?”

“you’re not even-”

“shoulda tied your ass to the bed. that’s what i’ll do next time.”

it doesn’t take much longer for the tears to come to the surface, your face falling into that sad look that makes him mad at himself for even ever yelling at you. you cry silently like that until he parks at tannyhill, and when he looks at you, regret washes over him. your pretty makeup all messed up, body heaving with sobs, staring down at your feet because you felt too ashamed to look him in the eyes.

“hey, hey,” he starts, a hand resting on your shoulder to get your attention. it moves deftly to your chin, titling your pretty, teary face up at him. “c’mon, don’t cry. it’s nothin’.”

“you got mad,” you say, voice broken up with a sob, blubbering on. “i’m sorry, i am. i just hate being all alone here without you, it’s the worst-”

“come on, kid.”

“jus’ wanted to hang out with you,” you sniffle. he runs a hand through his hair. he needs to get better at not getting frustrated with you just because he’s not used to your affection.

“i know, baby. we’re home now so get inside, hm?” you comply with his instructions, walking into tannyhill and heading towards the couch in the living room, like you always do when the two of you curl up to watch a movie.

“where you goin'?” he calls after you. you stop in your track, turning around to face rafe.

“i thought we’re hanging out? the living room?”

“and i said this morning that i would make you regret complainin’. so get your ass upstairs first, now.”

#eeeeeee💓anon hope you love!!!!#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #time series

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rafesbunny · 5 months ago

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cut it out- r.c & barry 🎀

where barry become unexpected friends

you hated the days where rafe made you go to barry’s trailer with him while he sorted out business and acted as if you weren’t even there. rafe would pay you zero attention, and on top of that you were missing out on a day of doing fun and exciting things by being forced to go with him. it didn’t help that his business partner was scary.

when you first met barry, he gave you a faux smile before asking rafe “was it really necessary you bring her here”. and even though you didn’t care one bit for barry, it still upset you. you felt like a burden whenever you went round there, as rafe would either shove you into a spare room while they dealt or made you wear headphones. and barry would always huff as he opened the door and saw your face.

one day you were left alone with barry as rafe had to go out and deal with something to do with his dad, and he trusted barry to be alone with you. after an awkward half an hour of sitting in silence, barry enquired, “country club treatin’ you good?” not expecting his question also unsure of the intentions behind it you warily answered, “yeah… why?” barry shook his head dismissively, “no reason girl, wanna drink” despite his efforts to get to know you, you were still timid when answering, “yes please, just water please” making sure to be extra polite having heard stories of barry putting people on their place, and you did not want to be one of those people. he filled you up a glass and sat next to you, “here you go princess. got another question” you looked at him with wide eyes, encouraging him to continue, “rafe act like he’s got a stick up his ass all the time with you as well, or are you his sweet spot?” the way barry described rafes grumpy personality made you laugh a little, but before you could answer rafe walked through the door, “what you laughing at kid?” you looked at barry and laughed again while barry smirked. rafe carried on walking, “don’t like this new friendship between you too”

now, days at barrys didn’t seem as daunting, every time you would tag along, barry would greet you with, “long time, princess, missed ya” while side hugging you with a kiss to the forehead. though rafe would be quick to intervene shoving him away, “yo cut it out” while barry took a step back, hands up in defence, “nice to see you too sunshine”. the sarcastic name for rafe making you giggle. you were no exception to his warning, “you too, alright?” you would nod at him suppressing a smile, but laughing again when you catch barry smirking out the corner or your eye. rafe would just storm off into the trailer after that leaving you and barry all alone outside, “i don’t know how you deal with his bratty attitude all day, princess really don’t” and again before you could respond rafe shouted from inside, “can hear you, you know” making you and barry laugh again.

god how rafe regretted ever taking you to barry’s in the first place.

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thisiswhereikeepdcthings · 2 years ago

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There's no "I" in Team but there are two in Migraine

Bruce had no issue with teamwork, despite what his children and colleagues might think. Teamwork was great. If done properly it was efficient, and it was good to have backup. Competent backup, at least.

Bruce helped found the Justice League. Obviously he was a supporter of teamwork.

However.

Some teams he really could have happily lived out his life without them ever existing.

He had a list.

One: Dick and Clark Kent

Clark had been the first hero he had introduced Dick to. It was a move he had regretted ever since.

He was glad the two of them got along, of course, but did they have to get along so well?

He could withstand torture but the two sets of sad puppy eyes attacking at the same time was on another level altogether.

Two: The Titans

Pros: Dick was making friends.

Cons: Dick was either away with his friends, or they came home with him. Really, all Bruce wanted was to spend one week without putting out any fires caused by teenage superheroes. Literal fires, not metaphorical ones. Well, actually there were plenty of those kind too.

Three: Dick and Jason

When Bruce first brought Jason home he wasn’t sure how Dick was going to react. And so maybe he panicked slightly and didn’t end up telling him for three weeks. In his defense, the voicemail he had left asking Dick to call him soon was left before the newspaper article came out.

Perhaps not his best moment.

Eventually, though, the two boys were introduced.

There was some yelling that took place, mostly directed at him, but other than that things seemed to go rather smoothly. Assuming, that is, that smoothly meant neither of them seemed to care about getting to know the other one, and mostly kept to themselves and their own activities.

And then, four months, two weeks, and five days after Jason first came to the manor, Bruce came home to discover the two of them had bonded over some unspoken activity that neither were willing to divulge. Alfred knew and didn’t disapprove so it couldn’t be that bad, but from then on out it was…well…

Bruce began the daily habit of checking his blood pressure.

Four: Talia al Ghul and Lois Lane

Bruce didn’t know how the two of them had met and he didn’t want to. See, Dick, he was okay with not knowing things. Sometimes. In this one instance, at least.

Five: Dick and Slade Wilson

Worst three weeks of his life.

Six: Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn

He was happy for them, he really was. He just wished they could be happy together somewhere less structurally damaging.

Seven: Jason and Harley Quinn

Explosion therapy was not a thing, despite both their arguments otherwise. They didn’t even give him a Joker effigy to blow up. They could have at least asked. He would have happily paid for that one and all the rest of them.

Eight: Tim and Barbara

He wasn’t that old. He knew how to use his computer.

Nine: Jason and Cassandra

Too competent. They should never have been allowed on the same team for any game ever. If he heard one more complaint from any of his other children he was going to seriously lose it.

And then there was that one time the two of them disappeared for a week and no one, not even himself or Clark, could find them. They had turned back up with grins and minimal injuries, and Bruce had tried to not investigate, he really had. But he needed to know, regardless of how much he regretted it later. (A lot. He regretted it a lot.)

Ten: Dick, Jason, and Constantine

Bruce hated magic.

Eleven: Jason, Diana, and Barry Allen

No one knew how or why the three of them had teamed up. It had been four months of secret meetings and pointed looks and minor heists that couldn’t technically be traced back to them but Bruce knew. And then there was the regular day-to-day hero-ing. Diana, he could understand. That’s what she did. Jason? Had always been vocally opposed to getting too involved with the Justice League, but had also always looked up to Diana, so maybe that was understandable? Allen? The man was retired. And he wasn’t suddenly out of retirement for some reason, no. He was just there to “lend a hand” to the other two.

At least Bruce could comfort himself in knowing Jason was spending time with two respectable individuals. It was certainly a step up from his unfortunately ongoing acquaintance with Rayner.

Twelve: Stephanie and Hal Jordan

They should never have been allowed to meet. It was a disaster. For Bruce.

Jason had been the one to introduce them, as he had proudly let Bruce know after the first breaking news cycle hit.

Thirteen: Duke and Damian

Bruce would have told Jason how thankful he was that he was acting as the moderating adult influence with those two if he didn’t think Jason would start doing the opposite out of spite.

Jason would make a great parent someday.

Bruce would love a six month vacation.

Fourteen: Alfred and Martha Kent

He didn’t really need to explain this one, right? Everyone could just move on, continue with their lives and so on and so forth.

Fifteen: Damian and Batcow

Because a boy needs a cow and a cow needs an emotional support duck, turkey, cat, dog, rabbit, goat, and raccoon. Apparently. Tim and Jason were, in Bruce’s opinion, far too enthusiastic to provide research as evidence whenever needed (or not needed, as was usually the case).

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ilyrafe · 7 months ago

Text

𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒆 ✧ 𝒓. 𝒄.

pairing: ex!rafe cameron x f!reader

warnings: angst, physical injuries, blood (it's brief), objetification of reader (not by rafe).

word count: 1,1k

the vibrating sound of your phone on the bedside table startles you a bit. even with your vision blurry, you manage to read rafe’s name shining on the screen. it’s late, the clock marks fifteen past two, and getting a call from him at this time is worrying, but fighting the fatigue, you answer his call.

“hello?”

“it’s me. you home?” his tone is urgent, which worries you even more. he’s definitely in trouble.

“why?”

“are you home or not?”

“yes, rafe. why are you calling me?”

“i’m at your door and i need your help right now.”

he hangs up abruptly and you sigh, anticipating yet another stressful interaction with rafe. it’s in situations like these that you wonder why you gave him the time of the day for almost a whole year of your life.

rafe is trouble, and you want none of it.

you quickly get up and head to the entrance of your small house. small, but yours. all the furniture, even if it is second-hand, is yours, as it was bought with your money, earned with a lot of sweat, something rafe will never understand.

as soon as you open the door, you come across a bruised and bloody rafe, which scares you. before you can say anything, he enters your house and sits on the tiny couch.

the scene is deplorable.

“rafe! what- what the hell happened to you?!”

“been in a fight, alright? i just can’t come back home looking like this.”

“in a fight with who?”

“i doesn’t matter. just help me.”

you sigh, tired and irritated. rafe is difficult to deal with. he beats the others out of tiredness and that is irritating. you go to the bathroom and grab a small bag with first aid items, and return to the living room right away, sitting next to him on the couch.

he winces when you pat the cotton ball on his bruises, but you don’t feel bad at all. this is what he deserves. you avoid looking him in the eye while you’re cleaning his face up. you know you can’t resist his baby blues.

you take his hands in yours. the contrast of size is beautiful, somehow. his huge, calloused hands with golden rings have always been attractive. his knuckles are red and quite swollen. you clean his hands up and only hear rafe’s huffs when he feels the sting of the rubbing alcohol. you might be doing that on purpose.

very quickly, you put some bandaids where you find necessary and bandage his hand up, where it’s swollen.

“all done.”

“thank you.”

oh, he knows the magic words. you know you’ll regret it, but you have to ask.

“what happened, rafe?”

he sighs and leans back, taking a deep, exhaustive breath.

“it doesn’t matter, y/n. it’s solved, it’s done.”

“you woke me up in the middle of the night, came over unannounced and made me patch you up. i deserve to know what the fuck happened and if i’m in trouble.”

“you’re not in trouble.” he clarifies, as he passes his fingers over the gauze on his hand. “one of barry’s friends said some weird shit about you.”

“who said what?” you frown.

you never really liked barry, let alone his “friends”. they’re beyond shady and you hate how rafe keeps them in his life.

“you don’t want to know.” you cock an eyebrow and rafe sighs once again, defeated. “babe, it’s inappropriate, don’t make me repeat it.”

babe. you forgot how much you loved when rafe called you sweet nicknames. yes, rafe is an overall asshole, but he isn’t all bad, you have to admit it. the thing is that he actively lets his bad side take over, and you can’t handle that.

“say it.”

“it was bryan. he, um… he said he… um…”

“say it, rafe.”

“he said he hoped to be the next in line to be inside your c-”

“okay, i get it.” you feel like crying and throwing up, but you maintain your composure. “he said that because he wanted to get to you, rafe, that’s all. i’ve never even spoken to him.”

you don’t know why you’re explaining yourself to rafe, but you feel like you have to. for some reason, you don’t want him to think you’re a slut that fucks every guy. deep down, you want rafe to realize he lost something really great, but that day may never come.

“i know, i’m not worried about that.” he says. “i just don’t want him near you.”

“rafe-”

“i know we’re not together anymore, and i swear i’m not being controlling, but bryan is bad and i don’t want him near you, ever. okay?”

“okay.”

after your response, rafe seems to relax a bit. he closes his eyes and his smug makes a comeback.

“you should’ve seen his face. what a bitch.”

you roll your eyes and chuckle.

“thank you for defending me, but really, let them talk. they just want to get to you.”

“now they know what happens when they speak of you.”

there’s a brief moment of silence between you both; it’s comfortable.

rafe seems tired, and you really don’t want him to leave, but you know it’s not going to end well if he stays over.

it’s been over four months since the definitive breakup and you’ve tried to go no contact with rafe, but it’s hard because you live in the same place, you have the same friends and rafe never wanted to stop talking to you.

“i still feel like i need to protect you,” he says, breaking the silence.

you lay next to him, your faces being so close, your noses are almost touching. this is dangerous territory, but you don’t care at this point. you touch his cheek so softly, he closes his eyes again.

he leans in, trying to get to your lips, and they touch briefly, before you lean back, effectively rejecting his kiss.

“i think you should go.”

rafe stares at you, clearly hurt. he gets up from your couch and leaves.

if you could, you would do everything necessary to make this relationship work, but that means changing rafe completely, and you don’t know if you’re in love with rafe, or are resigned to the crumbs of kindness he gives you.

no relationship should survive on small moments of love, and you’re no longer satisfied by the thrill of having a good moment with rafe.

when you broke up with him, he begged you for another chance, but you had already given him a thousand chances. you’ve played this game before and you ended up hurt and slightly traumatized.

you can’t change rafe and he doesn’t want to help himself, so there’s nothing left for you to do.

i love feedback, tell me your thoughts! <3

#my writings #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron oneshot #rafe cameron imagine #outer banks #drew starkey #drew starkey x you #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey oneshot #drew starkey imagine

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junespriince · 5 months ago

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Wally: I sit here today because my uncle retired and you guys just dragged me in here, I didn't have a choice. I was working my own city, the Titans, and sometimes helped other heroes and now I have to work here and come to almost daily meetings? How can I get fired? Can marrying your son in Vegas make you let me leave? I want out of this.

Bruce: the dimension overlord said you must be here, we need a speedster or balance will be distributed.

Wally: how about you disturb deez nuts old man. I don't give two donkeys pucks about this "balance" when I'm forced to look at my two biggest enemies all day.

Oliver: I know Barry raised you, but could you have manners kid?

Wally: can you stop getting pegged by my therapist?

Oliver, blushing as if the league doesn't already know this:

Wally: no? Okay, then shut up.

Bruce: this is a bit excessive, West.

Wally: says the guy who fights his ex father in law/enemy shirtless. I don't know about you, but if my son grandfather challenged me to a duel the shirt stays on.

Bruce: how?

Wally: what does "dating your son" mean to you? Self proclaimed greatest detective over here lady and gents, give him some applause for being stupid. Though, with all the smart women you attracted I guess it has it charms to a certain group.

Clark: a lot of sass today, huh?

Wally: and rightly so Mr. Kent—

Clark: kid, you've known me for years and marrying my kid, it's uncle Clark now.

Wally: sir, I was raised my a Midwestern woman, it's sir, ma'am, and whatnot, deal with it. Anyways, it's rightly deserved, I'm losing a lot of precious time spending it here because Gotham's playboy bicycle decided now he'll have a standard and not fix this problem by helping the dimensions asshat get laid. Do you understand how much this cut into my personal life outside of heroing, Bruce?

Bruce: well—

Wally: shut up sir, you don't because unlike you I don't have a son I was blackmailed into adopting that can run the business, no, I'm an average man here working a real job, and trying to make time for my boyfriend. We get it, you're an emo furry with a tragic backstory that makes it hard to emote, well bucko guess what, I had shitty parents, uncle Hal thinks I have no friends, and what else... OH yeah! I was stuck in the speed force trying to get out and everyone I loved stop trying to save me and assumed I was dead. So, fire me!

Bruce, and his ego™: no. Balance needs to be kept.

Wally: I will make you regret this choice.

Both of them glaring at each other:

Diana: well, at least meetings will be interesting.

Hal: in my defense you didn't have friends over when I visited so how was i supposed to know...

Oliver: didn't Barry told you one time to come because Wally was at my house having a sleepover with Roy?

Hal: ... Okay I'mma be so real right now, I heard come over and the rest was white noise.

Wally: ew. I'm right here.

Hal: kid, hush, the adults are talking.

Wally: ... I'm 29, dude bye. I'm done with this. *Gets up and leaves*

Arthur: he has grown up so much.

Bruce, who knows Wally at his worst teen years: yeah, he's gotten worse.

Oliver: so about this fighting shirtless with your ex father in law.

Bruce: so about you getting pegged by our therapist.

Oliver:

Bruce:

Oliver: I hate you.

Bruce: yeah, yeah, love you too idiot.

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superbreadsoul · 13 days ago

Text

DON’T BAIL ON ME

Matt Murdock x Reader

DISCLAIMER: The following story is purely fictional and is made for entertainment purposes. I do not own any of the characters mentioned in this story.

WARNING: Heartbreak, no happy-ending, Matt is emotionally constipated, Reader is unable to take responsibility as well. Elektra (cuz she’s hawt).

WORD COUNT: 5119 WORDS

--------------------------------------------------------

Matt’s voice trembled with concern as he heard her step through the door, sensing her eyes downcast, her posture tense. He had been pacing for what felt like hours, his mind running wild with worry. The clock on the wall mocked him with every passing second. He hadn’t heard from her all day. He hadn’t seen her since their plans had been set.

"Hey, sweetheart," he began, his tone more gentle than usual, but heavy with the weight of unspoken fear. "I was worried about you. Where have you been?"

Her response was quiet, almost reluctant, as if she was debating whether or not to let him in on the truth. "At the hospital."

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. His heart skipped a beat. "What? Why? Are you okay?"

His feet moved instinctively toward her, but she didn't meet his gaze. Instead, she stepped back, a wall of frustration and hurt suddenly building between them. He halted, sensing the shift, his worry now mingling with confusion.

"Yeah," she said, her voice tight. "I was visiting Barry."

There was an unmistakable edge to her words, and Matt froze, the weight of her response settling in. Barry. The name stung. He had heard about Barry—her ex, the doctor— the one she couldn’t quite escape, the one who always seemed to pull her back in. He had known this day would come. He just hadn’t expected it to feel so… personal. Little did he know, that wasn't what she was seemingly hesitant about.

"Oh," Matt said, his voice trailing off as he tried to keep his composure. He noticed a familiar scent around her, something sweet and floral. "You—smell nice."

She blinked, her lips tightening into a thin line. “Really?” she replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Well, I wanted to smell nice for our date. Thanks for showing up, by the way.”

Matt’s heart clenched. The biting tone in her voice stung, but it was nothing compared to the way the truth had just hit him. His sightless eyes bounced, full of remorse and regret. His mind raced, desperately trying to piece together where everything had gone wrong.

"Oh sweetheart," he whispered, his words catching in his throat. "I’m so sorry. It… it slipped my mind. I’m so, so sorry."

He stepped forward, his hands reaching for her, but she pulled back slightly, the distance between them growing, thick with unspoken anger.

"Are you?" she asked, her voice trembling with a mix of hurt and disbelief. She glanced up at him, the vulnerability in her voice almost too much for him to bear. "Are you really sorry, Matt?"

Her question hung in the air, and for a moment, he was speechless. All he could hear was the rapid beat of his own heart, and the deafening silence that followed. He had forgotten their date. He had let her down. Again.

Matt’s breath hitched as he took another step closer, his voice dropping to a softer, more sincere tone. “Y/N, is something wrong?”

The words were tentative, but they were filled with an unspoken plea for her to let him in, to let him fix this, to let him make things right. But she only stood there, her arms crossed, her expression unreadable.

Matt had known her long enough to recognize the storm brewing beneath her calm exterior. But this—this was different. This was something deeper, something he couldn’t fix with an apology alone.

"Natchios."

The name dropped from Y/N's lips like a stone sinking into the silence of the room, heavy and uninvited. It echoed through the small space, reverberating off the walls and into Matt’s chest, where it lodged like a shard of ice. The very surname that had haunted him for years. The one name he thought he had left behind. The name of the woman who had once ruled his world in a storm of chaos and passion—and who, no matter how hard he tried, was never truly gone.

“What?” Matt froze, his blood running cold, his breath caught in his throat. The dread settled in, slow and suffocating. He had thought he could outrun it, that he had buried that past deep enough for it to never resurface. But now, standing before him, was Y/N, looking at him with eyes that said she knew, and with a smile that barely disguised the hurt and the bitterness.

Y/N tilted her head slightly, her lips curling into a bitter, almost rueful grin. “I was so caught up with the trial, I didn’t realise it at first. I’d never heard a name so unique. Then I thought, hey, actually, I have. I’ve only ever known one person with a name that unique. She had a pretty unique personality too. Elektra Natchios. Huh.”

Matt’s heart hammered in his chest, and he felt a cold sweat prick at the back of his neck. Her words stung deeper than he could have imagined. There was no hiding now, no pretending that this wasn’t happening. He couldn't see it but he knew that Y/N was no longer looking at him with the gentle affection of someone who had shared quiet moments of love. Now, she was looking at him with something else: pain. And the realization that everything he had tried to protect her from had come crashing down.

Y/N’s eyes narrowed at him, her gaze sharp and cutting, as she began to recall their past. “God, I hated that stupid Chevy Belair Coupe she used to drive around to pick you up. Then you’d get in the passenger seat with a big smile on your face, bunking all your classes.” She chuckled, but the sound was hollow, edged with something bitter and pained. “And I wouldn’t hear from you for days. Three days, Matt. I didn’t hear from you for three damn days.”

Matt opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He wanted to apologise, to explain, but the words felt useless. How could he explain any of it without dragging her deeper into the mess that was his life with Elektra?

Elektra.

Just the thought of her made his stomach twist, but the worst part was the knowledge that Y/N had been right all along. He had never fully severed the connection with Elektra, and now, it was here, in front of him, like a spectre from his past.

Y/N’s eyes flashed with an icy determination. "She’s here, isn’t she? Like Stick? You can come out now.”

The words hung in the air, sharp and accusing. Matt’s breath hitched, and before he could protest or stop it, Y/N’s gaze flicked toward the door of the bedroom. The silence that followed was oppressive, and Matt’s heart sank as he knew exactly who would walk through that door, already hearing her heels clicking. He didn’t need to say a word. He didn’t have to.

From the shadows of the hallway, Elektra emerged.

“Hello, Y/N,” Elektra’s voice was smooth, almost amused, like she had been waiting for this moment, anticipating the fallout from Matt’s past finally catching up with him.

Elektra’s steps were confident, every movement exuding the kind of smug self-assurance Matt had never been able to shake. She stood tall in the doorway, her presence dominating the room even as she leaned casually against the frame. There was a faint, cruel smile playing at the edges of her lips as she looked past Matt to Y/N.

Matt’s stomach turned. Elektra had always had that way of walking into a room like she owned it, like everyone in it was just another pawn in her game. He hated that about her. He hated the way she always made him feel like he was nothing more than a fool to be played with.

“Elektra,” Y/N said, her voice tight with controlled fury. "I should have known you’d be here. Always lurking in the shadows, making everything more complicated than it needs to be."

Elektra’s eyes gleamed with something cold, calculating. “I don’t know what you mean. I’m just here to see Matthew, just like I always have been.”

Matt’s chest tightened. “Y/N, I—”

But Y/N held up a hand, the air shifting as she did, silencing him before he could finish. Her eyes, once soft with affection, now burned with a mix of pain and anger, and he realized, too late, that this was a breaking point. A fracture in their relationship that couldn’t be healed with empty words.

“What? You’re sorry?” Y/N asked, the disbelief thick in her voice. “For what, Matt? For still being tied to her after all this time? For letting her come back into your life, into our life, like nothing ever changed?”

Matt took a step forward, but it was like walking on a tightrope. Every word he tried to say felt heavier than the last, his voice faltering as he reached for her. “Y/N, it’s not what you think—”

“It never is,” Y/N snapped, her voice a mixture of frustration and grief. "You’re still lying to me, Matt. You’re still lying to me, even now.”

Y/N’s voice was calm, but there was an unmistakable edge to it, a sharpness that immediately cut through the tension in the room. “Matt and I need to talk, so I’m sorry, but I’d like you to leave.”

Elektra didn't flinch. She gave a soft, almost mocking smile, the same smile Matt had once found irresistible, traced it with his own fingers, now a twisted reminder of everything he was trying to move past. “Alright.” She didn’t hesitate, her heels clicking sharply against the floor as she turned toward Matt’s bedroom, making her way back into the shadows of his life.

But before she could slip out of sight, Y/N’s voice stopped her cold, the words laced with authority. “—The apartment.”

Elektra paused mid-step, a flicker of surprise in her eyes, but it was quickly masked by that same smug composure.

Matt opened his mouth, but his throat tightened as the reality of the situation began to settle in. He had never heard Y/N so resolute, and despite everything he wanted to say, he knew that this wasn’t his battle to fight. Still, he hated the feeling of being stuck in the middle. “Y/N—” he started, his voice soft, trying to diffuse the tension.

“—You speak when I ask you to speak.” Her voice cut through his words like a knife, leaving no room for argument.

Matt flinched, a sigh escaping him. His frustration built inside him, the weight of being trapped between the two women he cared about—one from his past, one from his present. He dropped his head, hands on his hips, trying to control the burning anger bubbling within him. The last thing he wanted was this kind of confrontation, but it was inevitable, wasn’t it? A situation of his own making.

Elektra, as if sensing Matt's turmoil, gave him one last smirk before she silently walked out, her footsteps echoing as she left the apartment. But even with her gone, the tension in the room was suffocating. Y/N stood there, arms crossed, her eyes trained on Matt, who didn’t move. The silence stretched between them like a chasm, filled with things unsaid.

“I’m not gonna have a one-sided conversation, so can you please turn around?” Y/N’s voice was stern, but there was an underlying hurt that Matt couldn’t ignore.

Reluctantly, Matt turned to face her. His jaw was tight, the weight of her gaze almost unbearable. For a second, he was relieved that he wouldn't have to see that scathing look on her face Foggy always talked about. He knew what was coming next, but it didn’t make it any easier to bear.

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” she asked, her tone softening only slightly as she tried to understand, but the confusion in her eyes was clear.

Matt opened his mouth, the words caught somewhere between guilt and frustration. “About what?” he asked, feigning ignorance, but even to him, the question felt hollow. He couldn’t pretend anymore.

Y/N’s eyes flicked to the door where Elektra had just left, and her voice was barely above a whisper as she listed out the things that had been gnawing at her. “About Stick. About Elektra. About everything that’s been hanging over us since the moment we got together. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Her words hit harder than she probably realised, and Matt’s breath faltered. The truth was, he hadn’t been able to bring himself to share it. Not because he didn’t trust her, but because he had hoped—no, he had needed—to believe that he could keep his past locked away. That Elektra, Stick, and all the messes of his old life would stay buried, far from Y/N. But he had been fooling himself. And now, here she was, asking him the one question he couldn’t dodge.

“Because you walked out on me before I could tell you,” Matt said, his voice thick with frustration, his hands clenched at his sides. His sightless eyes were wild, somewhat searching for hers—waiting so that she might tell him that she understood, or at least would understand, if he could just explain it all.

Y/N didn’t flinch at his words, but the hurt was unmistakable. She stood there, her arms still crossed, her gaze unwavering. She had always been so patient with him, so understanding. But this—this was too much.

“You think I walked out on you?” she asked, her voice tight, trying to keep the trembling anger at bay. “You think I just left? You’re the one who shut me out, Matt. You’re the one who didn’t trust me with the truth. You kept me at arm’s length, and now I’m supposed to believe it was just because you couldn’t find the right time to tell me?”

Matt took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling with a frustration that was barely contained. “It wasn’t like that,” he said, his voice lower now, softer but still heavy with regret. “I never wanted to hurt you. I never wanted to drag you into that world. But you—you wouldn’t have understood. You wouldn’t have accepted it.”

Y/N’s eyes narrowed slightly, and she stepped closer to him, her voice barely above a whisper. “You don’t get to decide what I can or can’t handle, Matt. You don’t get to keep things from me because you’re afraid of how I’ll react. I’m your partner. You tell me. You trust me.”

Y/N’s voice was laced with frustration as she tried to make him understand, but Matt could sense that her patience was starting to wear thin. “Besides, I was rightfully upset—”

“—Is there a point to this conversation?” Matt interrupted, his tone sharp, his shoulders tense. He didn’t want to fight. He didn’t want to keep spinning in this cycle of misunderstandings and hurt feelings. He just wanted it to go back to the way it was. He wanted everything to feel normal again.

Y/N blinked, her expression one of bewilderment and frustration. “What do you mean, ‘is there a point’? Matt, of course, there’s a point! I want you to talk to me!” She said the words with an exasperated urgency, as if she couldn’t understand why he wasn’t getting it.

Matt’s jaw clenched, and he turned away for a moment, trying to steady himself. “There’s nothing to talk about, Y/N. Besides, you made it clear yesterday that you didn’t want to talk to me.”

The hurt in his voice was unmistakable, and Y/N’s chest tightened. The memory of last night—the way she’d stormed out, the way Matt had closed himself off—was still fresh. It felt like a betrayal, but even more so, it felt like the same pattern she had been trying to avoid. He was slipping away from her, like he always did.

Her heart pounded as she stared at him, frustration bubbling up again. “See, this is exactly what I’m talking about,” she said, her finger gesturing towards him. “You just brush it all off. It’s like you won’t even try to understand why I’m upset!”

Matt’s eyes flashed, frustration building in his chest. He didn’t know how to explain it, how to make her understand that his silence wasn’t about her, but about the things inside him that he didn’t know how to talk about. “What?” he snapped back, unable to hide the rawness in his voice. “What do you want from me, Y/N?”

“God! It’s always one step forward and ten steps back with us!” she nearly shouted, her voice full of pent-up frustration. “It’s always the same thing! You do something, and I pull away. I do something, and you pull away. We can’t keep doing this, Matt! I can’t keep feeling like I’m the only one trying to hold this together.”

The words hit him harder than he expected, and for a moment, he didn’t know how to respond. He wanted to explain that it wasn’t just her—that it wasn’t always her fault. But the truth was, his own insecurities were starting to drown out the words. His fear of being abandoned, of losing her, was starting to seep into every crack of their relationship, and he didn’t know how to fight it.

“We talk, don’t we?” Matt said cynically, crossing his arms as he looked at where he assumed her eyes were, his expression closed off. “I’m right here standing in front of you.”

Y/N’s eyes narrowed as she shot back with a bitter laugh, the sting of his words landing harder than he’d realised. “As opposed to how lately, every conversation I have with you is towards your back?” she said, her voice full of incredulity. “You’re physically here, Matt, but you’ve been gone for a while now.”

Matt flinched at the accusation, the weight of her words cutting deep. He opened his mouth to argue, but the frustration in Y/N’s voice silenced him before he could speak.

“What the hell does that mean?” he snapped back, his confusion mixing with his growing anger.

Y/N’s words were sharp, cutting through the air between them like a blade. “It means you avoid me!” she deadpanned, her frustration bubbling to the surface. “It means your first instinct is to run away from me the second things get a little bit rough.” She pointed directly at him, her eyes narrowing as she squinted up at him in disbelief. She rocked her hand in the air, as if to emphasise how often he pulled away, how shaky he could be when things weren't easy.

Matt’s heart beat erratically in his chest as she spoke, the truth in her words hitting him like a freight train. She wasn’t wrong. He had always pulled away when things got tough. His instinct had always been to retreat into the safety of silence, of isolation, of not facing the things that scared him the most.

“I don’t run,” Matt muttered, his voice low and defensive. “I—”

“You do,” she interrupted sharply, cutting him off before he could finish. “I’m not an idiot, Matt. I can see it. You shut down. You turn away. You make yourself small, and you expect me to just stand here and wait for you to come back.”

Matt stood there, frozen for a moment, the words hanging in the air like a weight he couldn’t escape. His breath was shallow, his chest tight. The things Y/N was saying, the things she was pointing out, weren’t easy to hear, but they were the truth. And deep down, he knew it.

“I don’t run!” Matt growled stubbornly in denial.

Matt's chest tightened, his jaw clenching in anger. He couldn't stand hearing it, especially not from her. "Okay? That is neither here nor there," he snapped, immediately brushing her words aside, shaking his head in frustration. He was done with the conversation, or so he thought. He wanted to put the walls back up, to shield himself from the rawness of the situation.

Y/N raised an eyebrow at him, the sarcasm in her expression all too clear. "Okay, well, here we are, Matt," she said, her voice dripping with frustration and mockery. "What do you wanna do? How do you wanna handle it, huh? Do you wanna fight for us, or do you wanna bail?"

She pointed toward the door, her hand shaking slightly with the intensity of the moment, as if to punctuate her question. Her voice rose in frustration, her eyes flashing with a mix of anger and hurt. She paused, studying him as the weight of his silence seemed to hang in the air. But as she watched him, something softened in her gaze. She saw the vulnerable look in his eyes—the quiet uncertainty he wore so well. And despite the storm of emotions she felt, her heart ached for him.

With a heavy sigh, she took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to raise my voice,” she said quietly, the sharpness gone from her tone, replaced by something more tender. The fight was still there, but beneath it, there was love. She stepped forward, her hands trembling as she reached for him.

Y/N placed her hands gently in his, her touch soft and warm. She needed him to hear her, needed him to understand. “Listen to me,” she said, her voice steady now, but filled with a quiet urgency. “I want you, Matt. In all your sweet, yet rugged, devilish glory,” she said with a small, affectionate smile, even as her heart ached with the weight of everything unsaid. “I want to be here when your nights get rough, and I want to be the first thing you feel in the morning.”

She cupped his cheeks, her fingers soft against his skin as she looked into his eyes and feeling the intensity that made his breath catch in his throat. Her gaze softened, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. She sniffled, her voice trembling. "Look, you think your crazy life, your past, everything that’s happened to you, is going to scare me away or something… but that’s not true. You’re so wrong."

Her chest tightened, her heart aching at the sight of him—of the man who had always been so afraid of being too much, so afraid of dragging others down with him. “Because there’s nothing out there, nothing in here, that scares me as much as the thought of losing you.”

Her voice was barely above a whisper now, but the weight of her words struck him with the force of a wrecking ball. "Trust me when I say… people like you and me, we don’t get the chance to love like this, Matt. I stay. I don’t run. Because I love you."

The confession hit him like a punch to the gut. She had said it. She had finally said it, and her words hung in the air between them like a lifeline. She had chosen him, despite everything. Despite his fear, his past, the mess he carried around with him.

Y/N’s voice was soft, tender now, as she spoke again, the love in her tone so raw it made his heart ache. “I love you so much that all I can ever think about is you. There’s no version of my life that doesn’t have you in it.” Her hands tightened around his, pulling him closer, even as she sniffled again, the tears starting to break free from her eyes. “So I’ll stay right here. You can push me away all you want, but I’m not going anywhere. I’ll wait for you.”

Matt’s breath caught in his throat as he processed her words, the weight of her confession crashing over him. She was here. She was choosing to stay, despite the chaos, despite everything. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had said something so raw, so real to him.

But even now, he found it hard to believe. He was so used to people leaving, to pushing others away before they could hurt him. The idea that she wouldn’t walk away, that she wanted him, despite his flaws and his broken pieces—it was a foreign concept.

He shook his head, as if trying to clear the fog in his mind, but the truth was, he was terrified. Terrified of letting her in, terrified of what would happen if he let himself truly believe that someone could love him—want him—after everything.

"I..." His voice cracked as he tried to speak, but words failed him. He reached up, touching her hands, still holding him so gently, and his gaze softened as he aimlessly searched where he assumed her face was in wonder, listening to her heart for any sign of doubt. But there was none. There was only love. A kind of love he had never known, never imagined he deserved.

Matt stood frozen, his heart hammering in his chest as Y/N’s confession lingered in the air between them. The weight of her words was suffocating, like a tidal wave crashing over him. He had never expected this moment to come, and now that it had, he wasn’t sure what to do with it. Her love for him, so pure and raw, left him paralyzed, caught between the fear of being loved and the fear of losing her.

His mind raced, his emotions a tangled mess. He wanted to say something, anything, but the words caught in his throat. His fears—his insecurities—gripped him like chains. Could he really let her in? Could he really let someone love him after everything he had done, everything he had become? And if he did, what would that mean for her? For them?

Y/N noticed the struggle in his sightless eyes, the way he seemed to shrink in on himself, and her heart sank. She had poured herself out to him—had told him, for the first time, how much he meant to her—and now, he couldn’t even return the sentiment. She frowned softly, her own pain growing as she took a small step back, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Matt?” She searched his face, looking for something, anything, that would tell her that he felt the same. “Did you hear me?” she repeated, the desperation creeping into her voice. “Say something. Please? Matt?”

The silence between them stretched on, thick with the unspoken. Matt’s brow furrowed, his hands trembling slightly as he struggled to find the words that felt right. But there was nothing—nothing that could explain the tangled mess of emotions inside him. He opened his mouth, but only half-formed words came out.

“I—uh—I can’t do this right now,” he finally said, his voice shaky with regret. “There’s a lot going on, and I—I can’t—” His words faltered, a deep ache filling his chest. It wasn’t that he didn’t feel the same way. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be with her. But the weight of his dual life—the mask he wore, the life he led as Daredevil—was so heavy, and he wasn’t sure how to balance it with what Y/N was offering him. The fear of losing her, of not being enough, of the danger he brought to everyone around him—it all swirled in his mind.

Y/N’s heart dropped at his words. The dread that washed over her was instantaneous, a cold, sharp wave that made her feel small and foolish. She had laid herself bare, had trusted him with a part of herself she didn’t give to anyone else, and now—now he was pulling away.

"Oh," she whispered, the word barely escaping her lips as the weight of disappointment settled into her chest. A hollow ache took root there. She had given him everything she had, all her love, all her hope—and he couldn’t even say it back. The look in his eyes was enough to confirm the one thing she’d feared most: he wasn’t ready. He wasn’t willing to let her in.

Her hands instinctively pulled away from his, the absence of his touch like an icy wind. She couldn’t look at him, couldn’t bear to see the regret in his eyes. Instead, she looked away, her heart breaking with every passing second. She felt so stupid for believing, for thinking that maybe this time, with him, things could be different. That maybe, just maybe, he could love her back.

“I don’t—” Matt began again, but the words felt too heavy to say. He sighed deeply, his own heart aching as he heard the stutter in her heartbeat. He didn’t want to hurt her; glad he couldn't see that look of brokenness in her eyes. But he knew he had to do this—he had to finish what he started with Elektra, had to be Daredevil first. There was too much at stake. He was torn between the man he wanted to be for her and the one he had to be for the city.

“I have to go,” he said reluctantly, his voice low and filled with regret. His eyes softened for a moment, the weight of the moment heavy in the space between them. “I need to finish something. I need to... do what I have to do. I’ll come back, okay?”

The words sounded hollow to Y/N, and she felt her throat close up as the tears welled up in her eyes. She couldn’t look at him now, not like this. Not when he was so distant, so unsure. Her voice cracked as she whispered, barely able to get the words out.

“Okay.”

It was the only thing she could say, the only thing she had left. Her heart was in pieces, each one slipping further away from him with every word he spoke. She wouldn’t fight him. She couldn’t fight him. Not now. Not when he was already running.

She didn’t look up as he left, didn’t want him to sense the tears that slipped down her cheeks, the raw pain she could no longer hide. All she wanted was for him to stay, to choose her, but the cold reality was that she didn’t know if he ever would.

Matt hesitated at the door, his hand on the handle, but the moment lingered for just a second longer. He tilted his head, ear faced to her direction, his face a mix of regret and guilt, but he didn’t say anything more. He couldn’t.

And with that, he was gone, leaving Y/N standing in the quiet apartment, her heart aching with the realisation that love—real love—might not be enough to bridge the chasm between them.

The End.

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