#yank barry

[yankbarry]

Yank Barry's global philanthropy: an inspiring tale

Yank Barry, CEO of VitaPro Foods & Propectin, is renowned for his innovative detox products aiding individuals with radiation exposure and chronic medical conditions. His impactful contributions extend globally, particularly in supporting those in need. Notably, Yank's personal meetings with Muammar Gaddafi facilitated the release of the "Benghazi Six."

For more details, visit: https://rtacademy.org/member/yank-barry/

[witherby]

HI HI. SAME ANON :33anon here!!!

omg???? jfc christ? that was so good im shaking my cup for more 😭 i think the fact my ask is being used as a power shower is silly... i love it keep up the good work!

(side note ive done metamorphosis may i be 🎆anon.... i will be yapping at you on a later date o7)

Welcome to the club 🎆 I am smooching ur cheek

Hahaha...wouldn't it be so silly....if I used your ask again.....to post the second part hahahaha.....isn't that the silliest idea hahahaha.........

The Littlest Wayne: Uncertain Home

(Part 2 of 2)

Masterlist is Here!

"Let me make sure I've got this straight."

Everyone stiffens in their seats. When Batman says things like that, it means he is very, very close to yelling. Batman never yells unless his patience has reached its limit, his emotional threshold has bubbled over, or he hasn't slept in over six consecutive days. Given his usual activities, it could very well be a combination of the three, and the current situation is not helping.

"You —" he points a gauntleted finger at Manhunter, "— realized my child was showing signs of developing their powers six weeks ago, and told no one."

He turns to Superman and Diana next, talking through clenched teeth.

"And then you two, today, realized the same thing, indirectly told them they would no longer have a place in my home, and then they vanished under your cape."

He places his hands on the meeting table. Inhales. Exhales.

"No one attempted to reach out and express their concerns to me, the father, in either incident."

He slams his fists on the table. The wood splinters under the impact. Everyone flinches with it.

"AND NOW MY CHILD IS MISSING! DID I FORGET ANYTHING? DID I LEAVE ANYTHING OUT!?"

The silence afterwards is deafening. Bruce yanks his cowl off and slams it to the floor, running his hands through his hair.

"The Watchtower is under lockdown until further notice. We do not leave until either I find my kid, or I figure out how to track them down."

"Batman," the Flash chimes in, "I feel for you. This is a bad situation, but we can't all stay here; I have to —"

Bruce rounds the table and crowds Barry into his seat with near-inhuman speed. His eyes are wide and wild and his teeth are bared.

"We do not leave until I find them."

The lights briefly turn red and an automated voice comes over the intercom, alerting them that lockdown protocols have initiated. The heroes watch as blast shields cover the windows and the Zeta tubes deactivate, effectively blocking their only ways out.

Green Lantern re-enters the room from the observation deck with a determined expression.

"Checked the monitors and surrounding galaxy. Skies are clear, and earth-side we should be fine for at least a couple hours, so I went ahead and triggered the protocol."

"Hal!" Barry protests. "C'mon, I'm gonna be late to work again! It's not as easy for some of us to maintain our civilian covers, you know!"

"Well, then it sounds like we gotta find our missing Mouse fast."

Bruce presses a button on his gauntlet and pulls a small ball out of it, rolling it to the center of the table. A hologram screen pops up and shows a picture of you sitting in Tim's lap and enthusiastically looking at something on his computer with him. To the right of the image, a wall of text begins to appear, detailing observations made about your growth, health, and development of your powers.

"You already knew," Diana mutters, like the words have been punched out of her. Clark holds his head in his hands.

"Why didn't you tell us then, huh?" Oliver frowns. "Didn't think we could benefit from that information?"

"My child, my discretion," Bruce hisses. That shuts Ollie right back up. "This is everything I've been able to passively observe about their ability. They can latch onto any shadows in their immediate vicinity, up to a range of approximately one hundred feet, and until now has only used them for pathfinding, like solving puzzles or looking for small objects. What just happened today with Superman's cape is the first discovered instance of them being able to traverse into darkness itself."

"That's why the Watchtower is locked down," J'onn realizes. "If they can only travel so far with the shadows, chances are high that they're still in here."

"Yes."

"How do we pull them out if we find them?" Arthur speaks up, arms crossed. "Last I checked, no one else has shadow powers."

"Do what you can without risking injury to them or yourselves. If you can talk them out, that will be the ideal tactic. Any more questions?" Bruce waits a few seconds for anyone to speak up, then dismisses the holo-screen and rises to his full height. "Then everyone fan out, cast some shadows, and get to work."

--

Arthur is having no luck. He checks the furniture that was already casting shadows, like tables and beds and appliances, to no avail. Calling to you and feeling around those dark spaces isn't gonna get him anywhere.

Clark and Diana had picked up his cape and hunkered down under the fabric, gingerly asking you to please come out, Uncle Clark and Auntie Di are very sorry they implied what they did, they never meant to scare you, please please please come back.

Barry is zipping around the whole tower, checking high spaces and low, calling for you with a mixture of urgency and concern.

Ollie uses his body to cast a shadow under the fluorescent lighting and Dinah crouches in the space of it, patting the ground gently and urging you to appear. She insists everyone is worried and looking for you because they want you to be safe.

Bruce is frantic. He's visually very composed, but Hal can see the tremble in his hands as he slowly and methodically checks every single shadow he can find or create for signs of you.

"Bruce," Hal mutters, watching him check his cape for the fifteenth time in just as many minutes. "Bruce, sit down and breathe for a bit."

"Don't mention breathing," Bruce snaps. "This is unprecedented. I'm working with zero useful information and three of my teammates contributed to this situation in the first place. Can they just exist in darkness forever, or is there a limit before they get spit back out? Can they even get back out? Is there oxygen wherever they are? Are they safe or in any kind of distress? If you don't have answers to these questions or haven't found them yet, I don't want you talking to me."

He turns to check his cape again and almost runs right into J'onn.

"There was a shadow moving in the training room," he noted. "When I approached to investigate, it melted away. I found it important to tell you that Flittermouse seems to be active and uninjured judging by the ease in which that shadow moved."

The Manhunter leaves them again, phasing through the walls to continue searching for you. Bruce pulls his gloves off and rubs his face, sighing.

"Hal."

"I forgive you," comes the immediate reply. Hal places a hand on Bruce's back and offers him a thin smile. "You're a dad who's scared for your four-year-old kid. I think you're entitled to a little bit of bitchiness."

Bruce hums.

"Just a little bit, though. Like fifteen percent more bitch than your baseline. Which is to say, if you talk to me like that again I'm going to make a giant cartoon hammer and beat you to death with it."

Both men hear you giggle. Their heads whip around in the direction of the sound, and find a small, child-shaped shadow moulded into the corner. It's a strange thing, to look at a shadow with no source. It would be frightening if it wasn't you.

"Mouse?" Bruce immediately calls, stepping towards you. The giggling stops and the shadow shrinks. He crouches down, palms extended. "No no no! Don't go, don't go anywhere, please. Can I talk to you?"

You don't respond. Bruce isn't entirely sure if you can, in your current form. You haven't run away yet, however, so he inches just a bit closer.

"I'm...there's...." He stops and starts, searching for the best words to use. "Mouse, there was a misunderstanding. No one is making you leave. I'm not going to give you up or send you away, I promise."

"...m e t a h u m a n..." you mutter. Both Bruce and Hal shiver. It sounds like darkness itself whispering directly into their ears, faint and echoing and all-encompassing.

"Yes, that's what people with skills like yours are called," he confirms.

Your shadow doesn't move for a while. Bruce shuffles closer, palms extended, and is about to ask you to come out, but then your entire form wobbles and starts shrinking even more.

"...n o m e t a s i n G o t h a m..." you say, and the sadness in your voice is so potent Hal has to brace himself against the wall.

"No!" Bruce says, pressing his palm against the wall just a second too late. You dissolve and disappear. "That's not — ffffffuck."

He presses his forehead to the wall and closes his eyes, taking slow, deep breaths to avoid screaming. It takes a while.

"They're not going to talk to me," he eventually says. "They're scared of me, of that damned rule I —"

He cuts himself off and rubs a hand down his face.

"You have to do it."

"Me? Specifically?" Hal asks.

"You're their favorite uncle." Bruce pushes himself off the floor and rests his hand on Hal's forearm. "They adore you. They ask when you're going to visit Gotham again all the time. If anybody's gonna get them to understand that they're not in any trouble or danger of losing their family because of something I did, it's gonna be you."

"Whoa. No pressure," Hal says. He knows it's true though — you absolutely adore Hal, and the feeling is mutual. You feel almost like his own kid. He's just as scared as Bruce is about your current situation. "Okay...alright, I got this. Listen, tell the others that Mouse probably isn't gonna come out for 'em. Go hang out in the meeting room and gimme an hour alone. I'll bring them back."

Bruce nods, but he seems hesitant to leave the part of the hall where they spotted your shadow. Hal gives him a small nudge and he eventually turns away, his boots clocking softly against the floor.

Hal inhales slowly, holds it, then exhales for a count of ten.

He's got this.

--

He does not have this. Hal walked into an empty corridor and flicked all the lights off, choosing to sit in the darkness and try calling out to you for almost thirty minutes. There's been no luck.

He sighs and uses his ring to construct a small bear, illuminating the immediate space around him in green, and makes it walk around.

"Y'know you used to love playing with my constructs," he murmurs. "We had this game I made up, where you would chase after whatever toy I made as fast as you could and try to catch it. I let you win a lot."

He makes a construct of you as a much smaller infant, not yet able to walk, crawling eagerly after the bear.

"You'd grab the little toy and hug it tight, and then come show me you got it. And I'd scoop you up and give you a cookie before we did it all again. We had to really tone down the cookie part because you got sick one time. Bruce made me sleep on the floor for a week. Not even one of the million couches in the manor. The floor. It was the worst."

He hears the surrounding darkness around him giggle. Hal leans against the wall and heaves a large, relieved sigh.

"Hey, kid," he says softly. "S'good to hear you."

You don't respond. He tries not to feel discouraged, instead seizing the opportunity presented.

"I'm not gonna ask you to come out, but if you don't mind...I'm kinda lonely. D'you think we could play that game again?"

Hal vanishes the constructs and makes a new one — a small, stuffed bat toy. He makes it flap its little wings and flop in circles.

"Think you can catch it? This one's a bit feisty."

Nothing happens for a few seconds. Hal feels himself growing nervous, and he's about to abandon the idea and suggest something else, but then the bat just vanishes. The construct is sucked up into the shadows, like darkness itself came up and hugged it into the void. A knot in his chest comes undone.

"That," he says, "was awesome. Okay, here's another one. Even feistier than the last."

This goes on for a while. Hal makes something for you to chase, you emerge from the dark just long enough to pull it in with you, and the process is rinse and repeat. Eventually, though, you come out of the shadows more and more, staying out of it longer and longer to chase around the conjured toys, until you're just tossing them into the shadows with gleeful little cheers.

"Got it!" You cry, jumping up to reach another one, this time shaped like an owl. You're panting from exertion and grinning widely at Hal, just standing and hugging it to your chest. "I win?"

"You win again," Hal agrees, expression painfully fond. He adores you wholeheartedly. "C'mere and get a victory hug, kid. Don't have any cookies on me, but we'll do a raincheck on that."

You go to him easily, practically collapsing in his lap, and rest your head against his chest while you idly pet the glowing owl toy. The area is bathed in dim green, enough to see each other without strain but still casting more than enough shadows for you to hide in again if you wanted.

"Fantastic job," Hal murmurs, kissing the top of your head. You nuzzle into his chest even more, hiding your face. "We definitely have to do that again some time. Don't you think?"

You start to nod, but the motion is jerky. You hesitate, then shrug, hugging the toy tighter.

"Oh, Mousey," he says, running his fingers through your hair. "You didn't think your powers would make Uncle Hal stop wanting to play with you, did ya?"

You slowly nod again, curling in on yourself.

"Well, that's just plain wrong. I love you, honey. Everybody loves you, y'know? You're smart, and adorable, and soooo much fun to be around," Hal insists, giving you a quick squeeze. Your mouth twitches like you're trying not to smile. "And it's gonna be way more fun now that you have cool shadow powers! Hide and seek might get a little challenging, but we'll make it work."

"...and Daddy?" You mutter. "Will he...want to play, too?"

"I know Daddy would love to play any game you wanted," Hal swore. "Daddy loves you more than anything in the whole wide world. And you know what else?"

"What?" You ask, lifting your head. You look at him with wide eyes and furrowed brows, hanging onto his every word.

"Sometimes Daddy makes mistakes. Like creating dumb rules he shoulda broke years ago."

You look away, snuggling further into Hal.

"What if...Daddy don't wanna break the rule?" You whisper.

Hal curls around you almost protectively, kissing your head again.

"Then he's a big, smelly dummy, and I'll take care of you instead," he promises. "You can live at my house, and I'll still bring you to the Watchtower to hang out with everyone and play games, and maybe, if you're extra good, I'll take you on vacation in outer space. I'll show you things you've never seen, like planets with four moons, and people as tall as skyscrapers, and space food that turns your hair all different colors. It'll explode your tiny head!"

"Nooo!" You giggle, grinning. "I don't want a exploded head!"

"Hmm...you drive a hard bargain kid," Hal says. "Okay, I won't give you explodey-head food. But only because you said so."

He lets you get your laughter out, then gently pats your back to regain your attention.

"I know you're very scared," he says, "but I promise this doesn't change the fact that you are so, so incredibly loved. I bet if you gave the others a chance, they'd be more than willing to prove it. Especially your dad."

You tighten your grip on the owl in your arms, bottom lip wobbling for a moment.

"Could you give him a chance, Mouse?" Hal asks. "If you don't want to, that's fine. We can work an arrangement out and always try again a different day. But I know he would be really, really excited to see you again."

You stare at Hal, face tight in contemplation. He waits patiently, continuing to rub small circles in your back.

His patience is rewarded when you bury your face in his chest again, nodding.

"Want daddy," you whisper. Hal settles you more securely in his arms and immediately rises to his feet, relishing the burst of satisfaction and relief in his chest.

He takes you back into the meeting room. Bruce immediately stands up from the table when he spots you curled up in Hal's embrace, hands twitching like he wants to hold you himself.

He moves with all the carefulness of someone approaching a wild animal. His face is uncharacteristically open, broadcasting his worry for you and relief that you're unharmed.

"Hi, sweet pea," Bruce mutters, silk-soft, and that's all it takes to make you start sobbing and reach for him. Your father doesn't hesitate, sweeping you up and giving assurance after assurance that you are just as treasured and loved as you've always been, that he is so happy to be your dad, that you belong in Gotham and that will never change no matter what.

The lockdown gets lifted from the Watchtower. Several heroes, after conveying their relief and gratitude over your safety, take their leave. Diana and Clark stay behind to apologize profusely, both to you and Bruce, for implying that you would ever be unwelcome in your own home just for being different. It's easy for you to forgive them, but Bruce is grinding his jaw a bit, so they excuse themselves for the night and take their leave.

"Well." Hal claps his hands together and yawns. "I'm ready for a drink and a bed. What do we say we hit the road, huh? C'mon, B, let's get Flittermouse back home. I've hit my daily quota for adventure."

Bruce nods, walking with you back to the Zeta tubes. You've already nodded off in his arms, drained from your stressful day.

"Thank you, Hal," he says, preparing to warp home. "Come by after the kids are in bed. Let me repay you properly."

"Y'know, normally I'd be all over that," Hal smirks, "but I'm seriously beat. Can I cash my reward in tomorrow?"

Bruce gives him a small smile. "Whenever you want. Come by anyway, if you like. We don't have to do anything."

"Yeah, okay. I'll see you later, then." Hal crosses his arms and relaxes against the corridor wall, smiling down at your dozing form. "You take care. Both of you."

Bruce thanks him again, disappearing in a flash of light. When Hal drops by later that evening, he finds his boyfriend asleep with you in his arms, clinging to his shirt and drooling on his chest as you coast peacefully in Dreamland.

Before joining the cuddle pile, he finds that sitting on the nightstand, written in a combination of pen and crayon, is a contract holding both yours and Bruce's signatures:

The rule against Metahumans in Gotham is hereby null and void forever and ever.

Signed by: Daddy & Mousey

[amandabbbbb]

summary: maybank!reader who’s a coke addict and lies to rafe about her addiction until he finds out and gets soo mad

tw: drug abuse, cocaine, rafe hits barry, rafes mean to reader

word count: 409

“baby, no, i’m not letting you fucking leave again,” rafe yelled as you yanked yourself out of his tight grip and ran out the door of tannyhill.

“i’ll be back later tonight. you can trust me. i just gotta pick up for my dad.”

you never wanted to lie to rafe or be involved in drugs, but having a father who was addicted to them didn’t help. you started picking up drugs for your father luke when you were 14, but now at 19 your addiction had spiraled into something darker, something you couldn’t control.

pedaling your bike to the other side of the island, you finally arrived at barry’s, your dealer. he always gave you the best drugs and didn’t charge you much in exchange for letting him flirt with you. “that has to be the best coke you’ve ever got, barry. shit,” you exclaimed as you finished the line of coke that he lined up for you. “you know me, sweetheart. i’d never give you bad drugs, would i, beautiful?”

as the drug rushed through your body, you thought to yourself that your boyfriend rafe would never even touch drugs. he was always just trying to please his dad. he would break up with you if he ever found out about your addiction. rafe just thought of you as the prettiest pogue, so innocent, timid, and shy. he always wanted to protect you.

a couple of hours after you left tannyhill, rafe walked in as you took that line with barry, picking up coke for himself and his friends to do at the kook party tonight. he would never let you see him do drugs; he played this character needing you to look up to him and never see him as a bad guy. but when he saw you throw your head back, wiping the white powder off your nose and hearing barry call you beautiful, he filled with rage.

“y/n, what the fuck are you doing?” rafe yelled. you stood up as fast as you could, his voice ringing in your ears. “get in the fuckin car.”

he slammed the car door and drove off at a speed you never felt his truck go before. you were shaking as you noticed blood splattered on his knuckles.

rafe’s lip curled into a sneer, his disbelief evident in the way he looked at you. “you’re pathetic,” he spat out, his words like a knife to your heart. “you’re just like him, aren’t you? your father. a worthless junkie.”

tears streamed down your cheeks as you struggled to process his words, the pain of his words cutting deeper than you thought possible.

“i gave you everything, y/n. i gave you a better life, and this is how you repay me? by throwing it all away for some fuckin drugs?” rafe screamed, his voice cracking.

“i-i’m so sorry rafe, please,” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. “i never wanted to hurt you. i just… i don’t know how to stop.”

your words made him feel guilty. as he looked at your glistening eyes and shaking hands, all he could say was, ���just stop. stop doing the drugs, baby,” rafe whispered. he saw his own reflection in your tear-streaked face and realized he didn’t know how to help you, given his own struggles with drugs. all he could mutter out was, “i’m sorry.”

[rafey-baby]

hidden 5

outlaw!rafe x pogue!reader

c/w: mentions of murder & violence, barry making an appearance, closure on the hostage/stockholm syndrome situation, slightly suggestive, 18+ mdni!

wc: 3.3k

sooo this is the actual last part! (might write some blurbs for them at some point idk) thanks for reading love u <3

also him getting jealous was inspired by this ask

series masterlist

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

Consciousness drags her out of the comfort of her slumber, forcing her to blink her leaden eyelids open to Rafe’s heavy and very much naked body weighing her down against the couch cushions.

She can feel his chest expanding with each lethargic inhale he takes and she’s momentarily disconcerted while her entangled thoughts desperately try to make sense of her current situation.

However, all too soon, the memories of last night cause her to let out a tired groan. What on earth was she thinking? Why would she let Rafe of all people fuck her? And more than once. She can’t even recall how many times she— 

Suddenly, she’s reminded of the reason she stirred from her state of dormancy in the first place when she feels Rafe’s sturdy abdomen pressing down on her bladder. 

“Ugh,” she lets the back of her head hit the armrest before trying to pry him off, albeit to no avail. “Rafe? Can you...” she shoves at his shoulder once more. However, he merely takes in another sleepy breath.  

“Rafe, wake up,” she tries again, this time pushing at his face that’s resting comfortably in the crook of her neck, which causes him to let out a drowsy hum before he’s pasting a palm over her lips to make her go quiet. 

“Shh.” he silences her and she feels like slapping him because she’s about to pee on her couch and he’s hushing her.

Therefore, she has no choice but to wrap her fingers around his limp wrist and yank it away from her mouth with a huff. “I need to pee, can you get off me, please?”  

He lets out a dozy grunt before groggily raising his head to look at her—squinting due to the daffodil-colored rays of sunshine peeking from the windows and appearing just as foggy as her a few minutes ago. Then, he rubs a hand over his face while mumbling something incoherent under his breath before finally removing his limbs from restraining her capability to move.  

She merely mutters a quick thank you before getting up and scurrying off to the bathroom—hearing him slump back down immediately after.  

- - - - - - - - - - -

After rinsing off the stickiness of last night in the steaming shower and changing into something comfortable, she realizes she’s starving. Hunger is eating away at her insides and along with the graphic recollections of her and Rafe’s late-night activities vividly jumping around her skull, she can already feel a headache lurking around the corner. 

She’s in the process of cracking eggs on a pan when she hears Rafe entering the shower—the pitter patter of water droplets hitting the tiled floor following soon after. She then begins to cut up some tomatoes to add into the mixture, when all of a sudden, the doorbell rings.  

She doesn’t think Rafe hears it since the water is still running in the bathroom, which is why she’s not entirely sure what she’s supposed to do. She figures that if it’s the police again, it would seem suspicious if it took her longer than normal to open it twice in a row now. Therefore, she turns off the stove and takes tentative steps towards the door.  

Fleetingly, she wonders if she should simply act as if no one’s home since opening doors for strangers was what got her into this mess in the first place. However, at this point she doesn’t necessarily have the mental capacity to care.

She gingerly unlocks the door with her lip worried between her teeth and behind it, stands a guy with dark hair and eyes as brown as coffee beans. 

“Where’s Rafe?”

And he doesn’t seem like a cop. But wouldn’t Rafe have told her if he was expecting someone?  

“I don’t…I don’t know what you’re talking about. He’s, um, he’s not here,” she decides to play it safe, the lie clumsily rolling off her tongue. She can tell he’s not buying it. 

“You sure? You, uh, you tellin’ me he gave me the wrong address then?” he wonders with a lazy furrow of his brows.  

“Um, I don’t—” 

“Told you to call before you get here Barry,” Rafe’s low rumble suddenly interrupts her—making a shiver trickle down her spine because him being right behind her, freshly showered, reminds her a little too much of his first night here.  

“Country club! Was sure they got your ass already, good to see you not in jail,” Barry exclaims loudly and takes the liberty of inviting himself in as if her home has turned into a public building free for anyone to just come and go as they please. At least he had the courtesy to close the door.

He greets Rafe with a heartfelt pat on the back and she’s momentarily stunned when Rafe’s mouth twists into a smile that would be considered warm and genuine; something she’s never had the luxury of receiving. 

“Why you didn’t tell me you were stayin’ with a princess?” Barry pushes at his chest playfully. 

“Leave her alone, man,” Rafe rolls his eyes in annoyance.  

“I didn’t do nothin’ just stating the obvious here,” Barry raises his hands up in defense and the unexpected compliment makes her suppress a smile. 

“Whatever, jus’ get your ass here, I need your help,” Rafe grumbles while walking towards her bedroom—not even asking if they can go there because why would he? 

“Ain’t nothin’ new about that,” Barry chuckles, revealing a golden tooth that glints under the light when he grins at her. And the familiarity in which they interact makes her figure they’ve known each other for a long time.

“We have to, uh, talk about some shit. So, go do somethin’ else, yeah?” Rafe looks over his shoulder at her.

“Right, um, okay,” she mumbles before turning around to return to the safety of her kitchen.  

“Damn, Rafe. That how you talk to her even though she’s lettin’ you hide here?” Barry questions as he follows after him. 

“Shit, man, can you just— let’s jus’ get this over with, alright? Don’t have all day,” Rafe merely mutters in response. 

“Well someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed, huh?” Barry’s humorous tone is the last thing she hears before the door closes—leaving her to continue preparing her breakfast with a weary sigh.  

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

A few days later, she hears Rafe’s voice from the living room while she’s thoughtlessly reorganizing her closet; folding shirts and pants and taking out clothes she no longer wears, since he still doesn’t allow for her to leave the house without him. 

“Hey, come watch this for a second?” his tone sounds almost excited when she pads over to stand next to him before looking over to him for an explanation. However, he merely nods towards the television screen and turns the volume higher.  

“And then onto some more interesting news. The charges for Rafe Cameron, owner of Cameron Development, have been dropped due to no significant evidence found to prove him guilty. However, the investigation is still open and the police are doing everything they can in order to find the criminal behind the devastating murder that has shaken up the entire island for weeks now. In order to ensure everyone’s safety, we hope that you keep your eyes open for anything out of the ordinary and…” 

Everything after that turns into muffled background noise when her jaw drops.

“You’re lookin’ at a free man, puppy,” he turns to face her with a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

“How did you even…” she’s momentarily stunned, words withering away while she blinks up at him in surprise. 

“Don’t want you t’worry about it, alright?” he’s quick to dismiss her before clicking off the TV. 

“I’m, uh, happy for you…even though you did kill the guy and—” 

“Already told you, he wasn’t a good person ‘n an even shittier cop, remember? And m’gonna need you to never mention that shit again, you think you can do that?” he turns serious all of a sudden; looking into her eyes with a warning.  

“Y— yes,” her voice falters when he steps closer.   

“Cause if you can’t, I’m gon’ have to do somethin’ you won’t like, you understand?” he gazes at her with such intensity, she can’t do anything but nod with tense shoulders.  

“You sure? Cause you’re kinda my only loose end here ‘n we wouldn’t want anythin’ to happen to you, now would we?” his tall frame hovers over her when he leans down to mutter out the words, causing her to flinch.  

“No, I promise. M’not gonna say anything,” she squeaks out and means it.  

Who would even believe her? After all, she doesn’t have any actual proof and even if she did, she thinks Rafe could easily just pay himself out of it—and she’s not particularly keen on finding out how far he’s willing to take his vengeance.  

“Good,” he seems to relax some but a sense of dread washes over her anyway.  

“But what if…someone threatens me or something?”

“Tha’s not gonna happen. You always worry so much, just chill out for a bit, yeah?” he shrugs it off with an air of indifference she wishes she could possess.

“But it’s a possibility. How do you know someone didn’t see us together when people were looking for you?” she asks with caution.

“Listen, if someone threatens you…you come to me ‘n I’ll fuckin’ kill them for you, okay?” he says with complete seriousness.  

“What? No! That’s not what I meant at all. I don’t want you to—” 

However, she’s interrupted by amused laughter bubbling from his chest. “M’joking. Stop being an annoyin’ pogue for one second, yeah? Think we should go out for dinner, hm? Let me, uh, thank you for your hospitality ‘n shit,” he says, smoothing a palm over his buzzed hair. 

“Like at a restaurant? You and me?” at the notion of them spending time together outside all this, confusion tangles up her thoughts—making her forget all about her previous concerns.  

“You’re so fuckin’ weird. Yes, you ‘n me. Who else? Can get whatever expensive shit you want too, how’s that sound?” he coaxes her to agree with the mellow tone he adds.

“Um, okay…sounds great?” she can’t really grasp onto his motives in the headspace she’s currently in, merely assumes he wants to be on her good side so she wouldn’t change her mind about opening her mouth.  

“Great. Need to, uh, take care of some things over at Figure Eight first, but be ready at seven,” he almost makes it sound like a threat, even if he’s not trying to scare her with a gun anymore.  

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

She doesn’t think she’s ever been at a restaurant this high-end, everything on the menu more than she could ever afford. Rafe practically demands her to not pay attention to the price and get anything she wants, however, it’s proving to be quite challenging while she scans over the list of dishes in front of her.

“You ready?” he asks with a hint of impatience.

“No, I can’t decide. There’s so many options and I don’t even know what half of them mean,” she mumbles out in distress. 

“I’ll just, uh, order for you, yeah?” he suggests with a raise of his brows.

“Okay, thanks,” she graces him with a grateful smile, feeling out of place with rich Kooks all around nearly suffocating her.  

Being here with Rafe, of all people, still feels strange. Not even a day ago, she was still practically held captive by him, even if the leash of his strict rules around her throat had loosened up considerably, and his overly aggressive tendencies had dwindled down to grumpy mutters and displeased glares over the course of the few weeks they’d known each other. Now, she’s only bound to him by this muddy, grimy secret that she’ll probably take down to her grave.  

And despite everything he’s done to her, in some peculiar way, she’s beginning to understand him. Because against all her morals, in a killer, someone who other people would consider a monster, she sees someone simply trying to survive in the harsh world with the crumpled cards life has dealt with him. And she isn’t all too sure how far her feelings of care towards the man branch out but what she does know, is that she doesn’t want him to go to prison. No matter what he’s done. 

And she’s never even met Rafe’s father, but she has this feeling that to be so violent and hostile, has to be learned from someone. Because no one is born evil, even if she wouldn’t necessarily describe him as that. In Rafe, she sees a boy who was forced to grow up too quick—someone with the burden of his father’s legacy weighing down on his shoulders with every breath he takes. Therefore, she can’t find it in herself to be entirely too upset with him for the way he treated her, thinks she can live with it, even if it was wrong.

“Are you guys ready to order?” the server’s voice pulls her out of her thoughts and makes her look up at a familiar face slightly covered by sand-colored curls.  

“Y/N? Long time no talk! How you doing?” Lucas, a guy she had a fling with last year meets her eyes with his surprised ones. 

“Oh, hi. I’m good. What a crazy coincidence, didn’t even know you worked here,” she forces out a strained laugh because had she known, she would’ve asked Rafe to pick another place.

“Actually, just started a few weeks ago. But since when do you eat on this side of the island?” he gives her a curious look.  

“I don’t. Just a…special occasion and stuff,“ she steals a glance at Rafe who’s quietly observing their interaction with narrowed eyes.  

And him talking to her right now feels entirely too humiliating because when she told Rafe about him, she assumed the two of them would never meet.  

“Right…anyway, haven’t seen you at the surf shop in a while, you still work there or?” Lucas continues with an enthusiasm she can’t quite reciprocate.  

It’s not like they ended up on bad terms—they weren’t even officially together to begin with—she just sort of withdrew from him because despite being an overall nice guy, she kept feeling like there was something missing.

“Yeah, yeah, I do, just had a little, um…family emergency and it was this whole thing, you don’t even wanna know the details,” she lies through her teeth, picking at the corner of her napkin as a distraction.

“I’m so sorry to hear that. Is everything okay now?” his jade eyes are sympathetic as he peers down at her.  

“Yes, everything’s good. Think I’ll be able to return next Monday,” she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and tries to appear nonchalant.  

“Cool…hey, I was actually wondering if you’d wanna catch up some time?” he scratches at the back of his head; seemingly nervous about her answer. 

She blinks. “Oh, um—” 

“You gon’ take our orders at some point or jus’ flirt with her for the next hour?” Rafe invites himself into the conversation with a scoff, tilting his head in intrigue.  

And at that, Lucas finally turns towards him. “Wait a second, weren’t you just suspected for murder?” he asks with slightly wide eyes.  

“Nah, they dropped the charges cause they were tweaking, I didn’t do shit,” Rafe huffs out, the lie rolling off his tongue far too easily.  

“Oh, right, right. That must, um, suck.”

“Yeah, yeah, it does,” Rafe mutters, and him clearly trying to fight off a roll of his eyes doesn’t go unnoticed by her, even if she’s not entirely sure why his mood has suddenly turned sour.  

Lucas is quick to fill in the silence that follows. “Right, so, what would you two like to eat?”

And after he’s left with their orders, Rafe turns to look at her with an annoying smirk crossing his features. “That the guy who couldn’t make you come?” 

“Rafe! He can still hear you,” she hisses and looks over her shoulder; relieved to discover he’s already out of earshot.  

“Don’t really care. That shit’s just embarrassin’ for him. What’d you see in him anyway? Seems like an ass,” he furrows his brows at her.  

“You’re talking as if you’re any better?”  

“At least made you come, no? Multiple times, may I add. Or you need a reminder?” he nudges her foot under the table—the self-satisfied smirk plastered on his face making her subtly kick him back. However, he merely wraps his fingers around her ankle, ceasing her futile attempt at bruising his leg with a chuckle. “You seriously jus’ tried to kick me? Didn’t seem to be complainin’ when you were beggin’ me to—”  

“Rafe! Why are you talking so loud?” she whines, trying to release her foot from where he’s captured it. However, his grip is strong and she’s not getting free until he decides she is.  

“Calm down, no one here cares. You pogues never know how to relax, do you?” 

“I am relaxed!” 

“Yeah, I can see that,” he taunts before finally letting her go.  

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

“Can I ask you something?” she swallows something akin to sand in her throat—disrupting the sound of the silverware clinking against the ceramic plates while they fill up their bellies.  

“Yeah?” his eyes flicker over to meet hers. 

“After this, um, are we just gonna go back to our sides of the island and never talk again?”

“Tha’s what you want?” he raises his brows and she blinks; slightly taken aback by him not immediately answering with a yes.  

“Um, I don’t…know. What would we even do?” she takes a sip of water to appear indifferent. However, she’s failing miserably. 

“I mean, could think of a couple of things…” he trails off with a smug grin, causing her to huff out a soft laugh. 

“Thought you didn’t hang out with pogues?” she narrows her eyes, trying to figure out if he’s even taking this seriously. 

“Yeah, well, guess I could make an exception. After all, you did help a kook, so you’re not really a pogue anymore, are you?”  

“Okay first of all, that makes zero sense and I only helped you, cause you were gonna kill me,” she states, lowering her tone towards the end.  

“Stop saying that shit,” he hisses, looking around to ensure no one heard her. “Wasn’t gonna kill you, jus’ needed you to listen, alright?”  

“Well, you could’ve been a bit more polite about it,” she rests her elbows on the table, tone accusatory.  

“Listen, m’sorry, okay? That what you want me to say? A lot was goin’ on ‘n I wasn’t thinkin’ clearly. Sometimes it’s, uh, hard for me to control my anger ‘n shit,” he mutters out the last part, as if it’s difficult for him to admit.

“Yeah, I figured,” she’s smiling now, her attempt at making him feel guilty going down the drain because him trying to defend his behavior for once, is sort of entertaining. 

A scowl covers his face at the realization that she’s merely trying to make him sweat for her own enjoyment. “You know, I still think I should’ve picked another house,” he grants her a lighthearted glare.  

“Yeah, me too,” she nods in agreement.  

And at the sight of her barely contained grin, he can’t stop his mouth from curling up as well—both of them quietly giggling at the entirely too bizarre of a situation, that for some reason, feels far too much like a first date. It’s almost as if they’re meeting for the first time all over again.

[cupidtragedy]

⋆⑅‧⋆ sour switchblade

warnings: dead dove do not eat! mean!rafe, face slapping, pussy slapping, knife / blood kink, refers to ur kitty as his

archived from @flwttr 💗

“the front door of your shared home with rafe slammed shut so hard it shook the front room. rafe was shaking with anger. his ears were red, his lips curved into a snarl, and his teeth ground together. you twirled your hair anxiously, praying that soon he would break the painful silence between the two of you..”

you knew you fucked up big time. if only you weren't so naïve. and if only you hadn't worn that sultry pink dress. you thought it was cute, you had bought it just for him. but rafe hated it. it's not because of the colour or the length, it was a beautiful dress, but it drew so much attention to you. even topper couldn't help but eye you down in the kitchen before his girlfriend slapped his shoulder.

rafe knew what that man wanted from you the second he started the conversation. he lurked and watched, thinking you would get the hint of what he wanted. but you didn't. you sat on the barstool at the homemade mojito bar, giggling at what he was saying. that was what set him off. the mans eyes were on your chest almost the entire conversation, making him inch closer to you. rafes hands balled into fists until his knuckles were white.

he stormed over to you, grabbed your wrist and pulled you away. "uh-babe? what are you doing let go !" you squealed while squirming around, trying to escape his tight grasp. "let's go. now." he said through gritted teeth, his grip around your wrist tightening. "but i was just talki-" he yanked you through barry’s front door.

"thanks for having us barry, sorry we gotta leave early. i'll see you monday." rafe called out before slamming the door behind him, not bothering to wait for a response from him. his grip on your wrist stayed tight as ever, his hand seemingly never going limp or getting tired.

the car ride home was nauseatingly quiet. the unnatural silence made it seem like a four hour drive when in reality it was less than 15 minutes. his large and veiny hands gripped the steering wheel so hard there was a imprint of where they once were. you threw him little glances every couple minutes, desperately trying to get his attention.

the car eventually made a sharp left turn and came to an abrupt stop. he swiftly unbuckled his seatbelt and slammed his car door shut, walking over to open yours. though rage was mad at you, downright ballistic, he was still a gentleman.

he threw his coat on the bench and untied his shoes. "bedroom. no clothes, edge of bed. you have five minutes." he said in a cold monotone voice, facing towards the mirror on the wall as he ran a hand through his hair. "if you even think of pulling some shit you’ll fuckin’ regret it." he added.

you scrambled upstairs, stripping your clothes off as you ran through the hallway and into the bedroom. while waiting you applied your cherry flavored lipgloss, his favorite, and braided your hair into his favorite style, praying that it would take points off your punishment.

after what felt like an eternity, rafe finally walked in, shutting the door behind him and locking it. he scoffed when he saw your appearance. any other time he would've praised you and told you how sweet you were for getting all dolled up for him. but not this time.

"you've been a bad girl tonight." rafe murmured as he began to unbutton his shirt.

"i know sir,, but m' really sorry!! i wasn't tryi-" your whining was cut off by a harsh slap across your left cheek.

"did i say you could talk, pet?" he spat. his cerulean eyes were darker than ever before, his pupils dilated in a sense of sexual hunger. you shook your head, looking down at your bare thighs. he harshly grabbed your jaw to make you look at him.

"lay down on the bed on your back. i'll be back in a minute." he said with a dark tone. you were scared. but you knew if you resisted it would just make it worse.

"yes sir.." you said in a soft, shaky voice. rafe walked unlocked the door and walked out, leaving you alone with your thoughts. did i go to far? you thought to yourself. is he gonna hurt me? what if he goes too far? you laid down on the bed, propping yourself up with your shoulders to see what's going on.

rafe came back with something black and shiny that you could quite make out. once he got closer you saw what it was; a switchblade. you whimpered and squirmed. a mix of fear and arousal boiled inside of you, terrified of what he could do to you, but eager for it to happen.

he pulled you by your legs to the edge of the bed, forcing them open to reveal your soaked cunt. he chuckled and ran his long middle finger down your slit before slapping your dripping pussy. you squealed and closed your legs. you had been waiting for this all night, but would it be too much?

he forced your legs back opened and slapped your thigh harshly. "keep them open." he growled. you nodded quickly. "..yes sir" you whimpered. he opened the blade and caressed your inner thigh with the sharp tip. "what's your safe word, angel?" he asked softly. you melted, submitting completely. it was like he had a magic spell on you. he was such a sweetheart, even when he was angry with you. "yellow.." you mumbled while biting your fingernails anxiously.

he hummed in satisfaction. he opened your legs wider so he could press the blade up against your inner thigh, making you whimper in fear. "m' gonna mark you as mine, ‘kay? so if any other guy tries to play with my pussy they’ll see my name” he said with a condescending smirk on his face. you nodded slowly.

he pressed the sharp blade against your delicate skin, a small stream of blood gushing down your thigh. you whined again and squirmed, it didn't hurt as much as you thought it would but you were still scared. "stay still, don't want you losing too much blood." you tried your hardest to not squirm or flinch, but it was kind of hard not to when your boyfriends cutting his name into you.

when he was finally pleased with his handiwork, rafe licked every last drop of blood off of his blade and stuck it back into his pocket. as you began to scoot back, rafe grabbed you by your ankles and pulled you to the edge of the bed.

“you didn’t think we were finished yet, did you doll?”

[erwinsvow]

the water is hot—much too hot for skin, you’re well aware, but this is your everything shower, so there’s no use in not having scaldingly warm water rain down on you. rafe’s bathroom is a mess of your products—a honey scented candle flickering on the sink counter, your soaps and scrubs along the tub. the entire place smells like vanilla and coconut, smells like you. 

you just need to finish washing your hair and give yourself one last soapy rinse before you can step out and finish up—all that’s left is lotioning up and your skincare. 

but it’s hard to want to leave when it’s so warm, and you feel so clean, and it’s so cold outside, colder still without the warmth of your boyfriend, who is out and about for the day.

so you decide to cherish this time, letting your head run under the showerhead and basking in the feeling. you only get another thirty seconds before the door opens. 

“wha—hey!” you yell out, thinking maybe sarah came in, since sometimes she does that when wheezie’s using their bathroom, and she’s only caught you and rafe showering together twice so far.

“shut up. it’s me.” your boyfriend’s sweet as always, walking in and closing the door behind him.

“rafe, i’m showering,” you start, worried for some reason that he’s gonna yank you out.

“yeah, i can tell. m’not blind, kid.” you hear him settle—he’s probably taking a seat, getting comfortable. “you won’t believe what barry said today-”

you poke your head out from the side of the curtain. rafe’s sitting on the toilet, staring up at you.

“get out!” 

“no. i gotta tell you what barry did.” he makes himself comfortable, sniffing the candle and then starting his story. you aren’t surprised at his antics anymore, there’s no privacy between you two anyways. you go back, finishing your hair wash while listening. 

“jesus, it’s fuckin’ hot in here. how do you still have skin?” 

“this is the perfect temperature,” you sigh, reaching for your body wash. rafe can’t see much through the curtain—it’s not sheer in any way, but he can make out your shadow from the other end, hands running over your body while you wash away the suds, the shape of your face under the showerhead. 

he shouldn’t have come in here.

“alright, i’m goin’. finish up.” you poke your head back, sticking your tongue out at him.

“already? what happened to the rest of your story?” 

“you told me to get out, remember?” you pout.

“was just kidding. i like this.”

“if i stay in here m’coming in there with you.” 

“promise?” 

[cypherscript]

Justice League Audit

The Flash honestly didn't know what to think about their current situation as the prime members of the Justice League, their biggest hitters, were just yanked from their homes and put into costume in a courtroom. A young man with white hair was halfway into a briefcase, legitimately halfway up to his waist in the briefcase, who pulls himself from it with multiple stacks of papers. "Good Evening, Justice League, or morning depending on when you came from. My name is Daniel but please call me Danny and I have been appointed to your case for simply the severity of the case."

"Severity? What are we being charged with," Batman grunts as he studies the room and the man.

"Charged? No no, you're not being charged with anything just yet if at all. I should specify why I'm here. My name is Danny and I head a recent addition of the Multiverse Auditing of Space and Time."

"MAST," Flash says in deadpan.

"An Audit," Batman's voice drops in tone, "Auditing us for what?"

"Excellent question, Mister... Batman," Danny says has he looks over his papers. "At MAST we monitor and maintain the spatial and temporal curve which is affected by choices made by the inhabitants of this dimension. This including but not limited to unsanctioned time travel, planetary destruction on a massive scale, large scale mental manipulation, cosmic entity manipulation, cosmic entity death, manipulation of the balance of life and death, supernatural tax evasion, unpaid child support and abandonment of duties in all forms."

Flash pulls on his collar uncomfortably as Danny mentions time travel, Batman ignores him as he continues, "And if this audit shows that we are in need of charging? What then?"

"It all depends on what is being charged but majority of them can simply be nullified by undoing what was done; paying your child support, making good on your deals and agreeing to exchange a number of your years as compensation for the death of the entity in question. In the event these terms cannot or will not be agreed to then the being in question will be black-marked as persona non grata and will be garnished for the rest of their natural life."

"That... seems rather lenient," Superman states as he's thinking over what was said.

"What is being garnished and what is persona non grata mean on a multiverse standpoint?"

"Until the black-marked individual reconciles their debt with MAST, no afterlife will accept them, no supernatural entity will make a deal with them, loss of any power used in the charge that gained them the black-mark."

He picks up a red folder and takes a seat on one side of the desk, "Now, Mister Flash, while you're not the most heavily audited on todays list you had unfortunately put more stress on one of our employees at MAST. I have here that you're being accused of 186 counts of unsanctioned time travel."

"186?!"

"BARRY!"

"What the crap?!"

[princessbrunette]

🎀≽^• ⩊ •^≼୧ ‧₊˚

rafe wasn’t a big sweatpants wearer.

he liked to think of himself as matured, classy, reeking of money. sweatpants was something he associated with being a slob, lazing around, not getting off your ass and working. that didn’t mean he didn’t own a few pairs— you know, for sleeping, lounging, etcetera.

because of his dislike for the garment, you’d rarely see him in anything other than work slacks or kook-y board shorts, which is why when he brushed past you in the hallway of tanny-hill, wearing grey sweatpants and a black tshirt — you were lost for words.

“wh—where are you going?” you all but mewl, quietly padding behind him as he frantically searches the bowl placed on the chest by the door.

“uh, gotta run n’see barry— the fuck are my keys? you seen ‘em?” he stressed, itching his forehead as he thinks about where he might’ve left them.

“no, uhm… you’re going out dressed like that?” you ask.

grey sweatpants — a grown man’s lingerie. with each step rafe took, it became abundantly clear that he’d skipped out on boxers today, something he never did, true lazy-day style. his dick print hung heavy in the centre below the draw strings, thick and causing a bump in the soft fabric. he glances down at himself upon following your gaze and shrugs obviously.

“laundry day.” he stops his search to face you properly, eyeing you where you stand. “the hells with you, seem all out of it today.” his voice is low and tired, and you can’t help but bite down on your glossy bottom lip, stepping towards him. you say nothing, staring up at him— and he stares back, eyes vacant and lips parted. you stand on your tip-toes and kiss him.

he kissed back, albeit confused— and as soon as you pressed your body to his, feeling his bulge right on your tummy — something took over you. it wasn’t enough that you were ovulating, the sweatpants were making you feral.

you quickly pull away to sink to your knees, a hand stroking his hip bone as you start to leave kisses to his clothed cock, the meat of it instinctually hardening beneath your trained touch. he smirks for a moment in disbelief, watching the way you mouth at him — humming like you were the one being pleased.

“alright, hey— i get it. ‘think sarah’s home. you—you want her comin’ down the stairs n’seeing the shit? stand up, kid.” he reluctantly reprimands you, giving your jaw a firm little tap but you only whine and pull him closer— your open mouth breathing hot air onto his growing erectjon, flat of your tongue pressed to the soft fabric between loving kisses.

“s’okay dad just wanna give you kisses.” it comes out muffled, distracted, like you don’t actually know what you’re saying. he licks his lips irritably at you not listening, eyes fluttering before he grabs your jaw, pulling you up to stand.

“i said alright. easy, yeah?” he warns once he’s closer to eye level with you, still gripping your jaw. you grin, all slick-lipped and glassy eyed.

“can’t go out anymore daddy, not like that.” you point to his crotch, your mouth having darkened the light grey fabric all around his hardened bulge— making it obvious something had gone down. it was true, he couldn’t go out like that. barry was always looking for new things to tease rafe about, and this would be giving him perfect ammunition. he presses his lips together, nostrils flaring before he lets go of your face, the same hand reaching round to the back of you, grabbing the back of your little booty shorts and yanking, using the momentum to spin you suddenly to face the same way as him.

as soon as you’re facing the other way he slaps your ass, before prodding at your shoulder — signifying for you to walk toward the stairs. “shit, little brat. start walkin’, think you owe me something.”

you giggle, slowing your pace like you were gonna come back with another retort but he simply gives your shoulder another little shove — practically bullying you. “said go, didn’t i?”

🎀≽^• ⩊ •^≼୧ ‧₊˚

[flwttr]

⋆⑅‧⋆ sour switchblade

warnings: dead dove do not eat! mean!rafe, face slapping, pussy slapping, knife / blood kink, refers to ur kitty as his

“the front door of your shared home with rafe slammed shut so hard it shook the front room. rafe was shaking with anger. his ears were red, his lips curved into a snarl, and his teeth ground together. you twirled your hair anxiously, praying that soon he would break the painful silence between the two of you.”

you knew you fucked up big time. if only you weren't so naïve. and if only you hadn't worn that sultry pink dress. you thought it was cute, you had bought it just for him. but rafe hated it. it's not because of the colour or the length, it was a beautiful dress, but it drew so much attention to you. even topper couldn't help but eye you down in the kitchen before his girlfriend slapped his shoulder.

rafe knew what that man wanted from you the second he started the conversation. he lurked and watched, thinking you would get the hint of what he wanted. but you didn't. you sat on the barstool at the homemade mojito bar,��giggling at what he was saying. that was what set him off. the mans eyes were on your chest almost the entire conversation, making him inch closer to you. rafes hands balled into fists until his knuckles were white.

he stormed over to you, grabbed your wrist and pulled you away. "uh-babe? what are you doing let go !" you squealed while squirming around, trying to escape his tight grasp. "let's go. now." he said through gritted teeth, his grip around your wrist tightening. "but i was just talki-" he yanked you through barry’s front door.

"thanks for having us barry, sorry we gotta leave early. i'll see you monday." rafe called out before slamming the door behind him, not bothering to wait for a response from him. his grip on your wrist stayed tight as ever, his hand seemingly never going limp or getting tired.

the car ride home was nauseatingly quiet. the unnatural silence made it seem like a four hour drive when in reality it was less than 15 minutes. his large and veiny hands gripped the steering wheel so hard there was a imprint of where they once were. you threw him little glances every couple minutes, desperately trying to get his attention.

the car eventually made a sharp left turn and came to an abrupt stop. he swiftly unbuckled his seatbelt and slammed his car door shut, walking over to open yours. though rage was mad at you, downright ballistic, he was still a gentleman.

he threw his coat on the bench and untied his shoes. "bedroom. no clothes, edge of bed. you have five minutes." he said in a cold monotone voice, facing towards the mirror on the wall as he ran a hand through his hair. "if you even think of pulling some shit you’ll fuckin’ regret it." he added.

you scrambled upstairs, stripping your clothes off as you ran through the hallway and into the bedroom. while waiting you applied your cherry flavored lipgloss, his favorite, and braided your hair into his favorite style, praying that it would take points off your punishment.

after what felt like an eternity, rafe finally walked in, shutting the door behind him and locking it. he scoffed when he saw your appearance. any other time he would've praised you and told you how sweet you were for getting all dolled up for him. but not this time.

"you've been a bad girl tonight." rafe murmured as he began to unbutton his shirt.

"i know sir,, but m' really sorry!! i wasn't tryi-" your whining was cut off by a harsh slap across your left cheek.

"did i say you could talk, pet?" he spat. his cerulean eyes were darker than ever before, his pupils dilated in a sense of sexual hunger. you shook your head, looking down at your bare thighs. he harshly grabbed your jaw to make you look at him.

"lay down on the bed on your back. i'll be back in a minute." he said with a dark tone. you were scared. but you knew if you resisted it would just make it worse.

"yes sir.." you said in a soft, shaky voice. rafe walked unlocked the door and walked out, leaving you alone with your thoughts. did i go to far? you thought to yourself. is he gonna hurt me? what if he goes too far? you laid down on the bed, propping yourself up with your shoulders to see what's going on.

rafe came back with something black and shiny that you could quite make out. once he got closer you saw what it was; a switchblade. you whimpered and squirmed. a mix of fear and arousal boiled inside of you, terrified of what he could do to you, but eager for it to happen.

he pulled you by your legs to the edge of the bed, forcing them open to reveal your soaked cunt. he chuckled and ran his long middle finger down your slit before slapping your dripping pussy. you squealed and closed your legs. you had been waiting for this all night, but would it be too much?

he forced your legs back opened and slapped your thigh harshly. "keep them open." he growled. you nodded quickly. "..yes sir" you whimpered. he opened the blade and caressed your inner thigh with the sharp tip. "what's your safe word, angel?" he asked softly. you melted, submitting completely. it was like he had a magic spell on you. he was such a sweetheart, even when he was angry with you. "yellow.." you mumbled while biting your fingernails anxiously.

he hummed in satisfaction. he opened your legs wider so he could press the blade up against your inner thigh, making you whimper in fear. "m' gonna mark you as mine, ‘kay? so if any other guy tries to play with my pussy they’ll see my name” he said with a condescending smirk on his face. you nodded slowly.

he pressed the sharp blade against your delicate skin, a small stream of blood gushing down your thigh. you whined again and squirmed, it didn't hurt as much as you thought it would but you were still scared. "stay still, don't want you losing too much blood." you tried your hardest to not squirm or flinch, but it was kind of hard not to when your boyfriends cutting his name into you.

when he was finally pleased with his handiwork, rafe licked every last drop of blood off of his blade and stuck it back into his pocket. as you began to scoot back, rafe grabbed you by your ankles and pulled you to the edge of the bed.

“you didn’t think we were finished yet, did you doll?”

[rafescvntyclubgf]

Shameless – Rafe Cameron Blurb

+18 Minor DNI

Rafe x Girlfriend!Reader

⭐️ republished ⭐️

+18 Minor DNI

🪄 warnings: fingering, unprotected p in v, public sex, drug usage, Rafe and Reader are high (you are responsible for your consumption as a reader), teasing, pet names, exhibitionism

📖 based off an ask: hey can u write smth about rafe and his gf at a party and their both high and shes sitting on his lap on the couch while he rubbing on her thigh and shes just all needy until he just says fuck it and pushes her dress up to fuck her not caring about the snall group in the room

✨ Rafe’s lips press against yours as he slides a digit into your soaked cunt. He swallows your moan, your parted lips letting his tongue slip through, the remnants of drugs on his lips making your mouth feel numb.

“These two serious?” Kelce chuckles. “Want me to record this for you, Rafey?” ✨

800 words

Reader’s POV:

“Princess… Mmm’fuck that’s it,” Rafe praises as you grind your needy self on his clothed cock. His fingers leave a bruising grip on both ass cheeks, tucked under your dress.

“I need your cock so bad, Rafe… It’s all I can think about,” you whine as Rafe’s fingers trail up your thighs making your spread legs draw together from sheer want alone. “Please, daddy.”

“So needy f’me tonight, doll. I fuckin’ love it,” Rafe mumbles against your lips before his fingers make their way between your thighs.

“Yes,” you whine breathily, throwing your heavy head back as your high sets in. “I’m not wearing panties-”

“Yo – Can you two calm the fuck down?” Topper sneers, yanking you out of your cocaine and lust-driven haze. You meet Rafe’s eyes, practically black from the drugs, his beautiful blue hue all but gone. A smirk slides across his lips as he moves a little higher, ignoring Top completely.

“There ain’t enough rooms in this house for you, Country Club? Gotta get it on right here?” Barry mocks before sipping his drink.

“You hear somebody, princess? I sure as shit didn’t,” Rafe smiles. “Hold your tits for me,” he mutters before cutting a line on your cleavage. You giggle as he looks back at you hungrily before cleaning it off with his nose, then his mouth.

Rafe’s lips press against yours as he slides a digit into your soaked cunt. He swallows your moan, your parted lips letting his tongue slip through, the remnants of drugs on his lips making your mouth feel numb.

“These two serious?” Kelce chuckles. “Want me to record this for you, Rafey?”

Rafe draws away from your lips, breathing heavily through a cocky smile. “Please.” He lofts his phone in Kelce’s direction, giving you a little wink before getting back to it. “Now where were we?” He jams his finger back in your soaked pussy, making you moan. Your unbridled sounds of pleasure cause the little group of girls behind you to leave.

“You wanna stop?” Rafe mumbles with no intention to do so.

“No, Daddy. I want more,” you smile against his mouth.

“More, huh? Use your words, baby,” he bullies as he plays with your clit, making you whimper.

”Fuck me. I need it.”

“Right here? Right now?” He chuckles breathily.

You nod, letting your eyes fall shut. “Right here. Right now, Rafe. Fuck. Me-”

“Dude…” Topper snickers as he lifts his beer to his lips. “We gettin’ foreplay and everything? Just fuck and get it over with.”

“Shut up, Top,” Rafe sighs in his raspy tone. “Can’t you see we’re busy?”

“Everyone can see that,” Topper chuckles in disbelief.

“Yeah, Thornton? Who’s here when he coulda left the second we started. Huh? Perv,” Rafe bullies.

“I’ve been sitting all night. I was here first,” Topper mumbles into his drink making the two of you laugh—Rafe quick to echo his words mockingly against your lips.

You tug at the button of Rafe’s chinos, lowering his zipper. Rafe adjusts slightly, pulling you closer, releasing his cock. You moan at the sight of it, his fat cockhead already leaking precum. You swipe your finger across it, drawing it between your lips.

“Give me your pussy, baby. C’mon,” Rafe sighs impatiently as you dip him into your warmth. Just a tease on his tip as you line your body up in the perfect position. Rafe pitches his hips up, penetrating you deeply causing you to gasp.

“Mmm… That felt so fucking good, Daddy,” you praise.

“Yeah, baby. You like that?” He groans as he starts thrusting up into you. You kiss him roughly, your tongues moving in succession, hands in his hair. “Bounce for me. Hmm?” Rafe breathes through a smirk.

You lower your weight on top of him, mouth falling into a soft “o” as his eyes roll back. You lean into his lips, brushing yours against his. “Such a big cock, daddy,” You whisper into your kiss before giving his lip a soft bite and a tug.

You start to bounce on his dick, letting your ass clap against his thighs. Rafe chuckles darkly, listening to your drenched pussy squelch for all to hear.

“Grind on me, princess,” Rafe groans. You start rolling and grinding your hips on top of him. Rafe’s dick hits all the right spot, making you claw at his polo. He pushes you back slightly, shamelessly watching you work, his cock glistening with your essence as you feel yourself nearing your peak.

“M’gonna cum, baby,” you whimper.

“In front of all these people, baby doll… Shittt… I knew you were my girl.”

Rafe overpowers you, setting the pace, watching your face; responding to your pleasure. “Right there, Rafe”, you plead as your orgasm teetering right on the edge of ecstacy. He spanks your ass roughly. “More,” you beg. His hand meets your skin again, rougher than the first, causing you to cry out making the boys snicker amongst themselves.

“My girl sounds good. Huh?” He boasts. “Mmm… Be a good girl and cum for me, sweetheart. Let everyone hear how good I make you feel.”

“Rafe… I-” You lose all control, throwing your head back as you dissolve in pleasure, bouncing on top of him.

“Fuckkk,” he moans deeply as his eyes pinch shut, surrendering to his climax as well.

Rafe’s eyes flutter open, his lap a wet mess from you. He reaches over, stealing the cig off Topper’s hand, popping it between his lips as he looks back at you. He retrieves the drugs from his pants pocket, dangling in front of your fucked-out gaze. “Ready for more?”

[violent138]

The League's Property damage video nights are an insane ritual on the Watchtower, where their largest screen is hijacked so that dragged footage from CCTV cameras, government databases, and social media of the most hilarious, costly disasters can be played.

Some notable mentions:

Superman got confused/distracted trying to save a building cut in half during a fight and accidentally permanently fused it onto a totally different building (they decided to merge companies)

Aquaman flooding a small space to fight someone and the resulting wave lifts all the cars on the street and sends them sailing

One of Oliver's explosive arrows blows up fireworks in warehouse district (leading to several flights getting grounded or rerouted)

Diana lassoed something flying and it yanked her so hard that she took out a traffic light and dragged it fifteen blocks with her

Barry tripped over something while running and was too shocked to phase through anything, going crashing (and bouncing) off multiple cars, a fire hydrant, taking out a post box before finally faceplanting to a halt

Hal used the classified schematics from a next-gen fighter jet to make his own construct, causing the Pentagon to lose all the money they'd invested in it

[yankbarry]

Philanthropist Barry's Journey: Providing Aid to Syrian Refugees in Bulgaria 

In a heartwarming tale of compassion and redemption, Mr. Barry embarked on a mission to assist Syrian refugees in Bulgaria, transforming their lives through his charitable endeavors. Formerly known for his diverse career spanning music, sports, and business, Mr. Barry found solace in philanthropy, striving to atone for past transgressions and make a meaningful impact on the lives of those in need. 

Upon encountering Ali Djilm, a shy teenager bearing the scars of past trauma, Mr. Barry extended a helping hand, symbolizing his commitment to offering refuge and support to displaced individuals like Ali. Through his Global Village Champions foundation, Mr. Barry orchestrated the relocation of Syrian families from primitive refugee camps to the comfort of suburban hotels, providing essential amenities and security to ensure their well-being. 

With a deep sense of responsibility, Mr. Barry personally engaged with the refugees, offering guidance and encouragement to empower them in their pursuit of integration and self-sufficiency. His foundation's efforts, fueled by profits from his Vitapro food business, have contributed significantly to alleviating hunger and homelessness among vulnerable populations worldwide. 

Driven by familial ties to Eastern Europe and a profound admiration for Bulgaria's historical resilience, Mr. Barry seized the opportunity to extend aid to Syrian refugees seeking refuge within its borders. Despite facing adversity in his own past, including legal challenges and struggles with addiction, Mr. Barry's transformation into a philanthropic force demonstrates the power of redemption and the capacity for positive change. 

As Mr. Barry's endeavors continue to expand, with plans to accommodate even more refugees in vacant hotel properties, his legacy of compassion and generosity serves as a beacon of hope in a world plagued by crisis and adversity. Through his unwavering commitment to humanitarianism, Mr. Barry exemplifies the transformative impact of empathy and solidarity in uplifting communities and restoring faith in humanity. 

In Conclusion: Mr. Barry's journey from a troubled past to a beacon of hope for Syrian refugees in Bulgaria exemplifies the profound impact of individual philanthropy and compassion. Through his foundation's efforts, countless lives have been touched, offering solace, support, and a renewed sense of hope to those in need. As his legacy continues to unfold, Mr. Barry's commitment to making a difference serves as a testament to the transformative power of empathy and redemption in building a brighter, more inclusive future for all. 

[2tarbell]

KISS IT BETTER, BABY

rafe not giving you the attention you want…

(906 words. drabble. © 2tarbell 2024)

“look— look. just figure it out, yeah? i told you i didn’t wanna deal with that bullshit.”

it was torture honestly.

your brow was furrowed and a seemingly permanent pout adorned your lip gloss sticky lips.

why wasn’t he paying attention to you?

rafe sat next to you on the balcony, cool breeze ruffling the white collared shirt he wore. his phone was pressed to his ear as he mumbled and bickered with someone on the other end, you assumed it was barry by the topic of conversation.

but you didn’t really give a shit what he was talking about anymore.

you’d be happy to sit and just listen to the comforting cadence of his voice, but he had hardly spared you a glance since you plopped down next to him on the wicker bench.

you suctioned yourself to his side, your rightful place, and he only patted your knee once. not even giving you a kiss in greeting.

realistically, you knew you couldn’t ever do anything to seriously upset rafe. he was obsessed with you, which only made his lack of attention sting even more.

you huffed and pressed closer to him, legs hooking over his lap as you stared at him pleadingly, skirt riding up to reveal tantalizing smooth skin. rafe only hummed and placed a large hand on your squishy thigh in an attempt to placate you.

he was more handsome today, if that was even possible. buzzed head giving focus to his sharp features. chiseled cheek bones and tan skin begging you to kiss and nip at it. your eyes traveled down to his collarbones peeking out under the unbuttoned collar of his shirt.

you were just working yourself up at this point, feeling a dampness starting to soak your sweet pink cotton panties. ones you knew he loved.

at the sake of your pride, you mustered the courage pull at his shirt, steeling yourself for his reaction. he didn’t like to be interrupted.

rafe looked at you from the corner of his eye, blue irises cementing you to the cushion you sat on.

he raised a brow in question but you only pouted deeper, eyelashes fluttering.

your boyfriend simply cupped your jaw delicately, shaking your head back and forth gently once before releasing you, attention back to the conversation at hand. to anyone else, such a gesture might seem patronizing but it only made you need his attention more.

you huffed again, manicured hand bunching up the material of his shirt, yanking just a bit more. the glare rafe sent you was filled with warning, but you were too far gone in your quest.

“raaaafe,” you whined, tugging harsher.

he tongued the inside of his cheek, clearly not in any mood to deal with your attitude. but you just wouldn’t give it up, heavy sighs and pleas of his name interrupting his thoughts.

“hey— i’ll call you later.”

you just about cheered when he finally hung up the phone, but it was cut short in your throat when rafe tightly gripped your jaw, bringing your face closer to his.

his own jaw was set, tongue once again poking his cheek, “you havin’ a good time embarrassing me?”

you didn’t know what to say, your cheeks squished between his large fingers, lips puckered outward. you whined again, a pathetic sound that made rafe exhale a chuckle.

“what? nothin’ to say now, baby?”

you were pitiful, not knowing what to do with his attention now that you had it.

“nooo, i jus’—”

“stop the whining, yeah? y’know i hate that shit.”

you pouted again, pushing his arm away from you and freeing your face from his grasp. your arms folding across your chest like a petulant child.

rafe rolled his eyes, wrapping an arm around your waist and dragging you closer and into his lap.

“and what’d i say about pouting? c’mon, lemme see that pretty smile.”

you leaned into him, unable to resist grinning at finally getting the physical affection you so craved. you toyed with the chain around his neck and looked up through your lashes, feeling the silver links bend and twist around your fingers.

“you ignored me,” you mumbled.

rafe smirked knowingly, cupping the back of your neck. “mmm… and that’s why you’re throwing a fuckin’ fit?”

“rafe, i’m serious—”

you frowned up at him as you protested his teasing, only to be met with his lips on yours.

the tender touch immediately caused you to melt into him, lips parting obediently under his, hands splayed across his firm chest. his tongue only teased the inside of your mouth before retreating.

rafe’s hand smoothed the hair at the nape of your neck then slid around to hold your jaw. he pulled away, not without you following after his lips.

“i ignored you, huh? ‘m sorry, sweetheart. you know i didn’t mean to. didn’t mean to make my favorite girl feel bad,” his thumb tracing your bottom lip.

you could only nod at his words, entranced by the gentle sound of his voice, a soft tone only saved for you and the intimate moments between you two. he knew how special it made you feel.

“made me so upset.” you mumbled, nudging his nose with your own.

“i know, baby, i know,” his other hand snuck down and under your skirt, knuckle teasing the lace edge of your panties, “let daddy make it up to you, yeah?”

[starkeyisthelastname]

casual dominance with rafe? opinions⁉️⁉️⁉️

hope this was alright 🥴

Rafe loved to grab you by the throat whenever he kissed you. No matter if it was a quick peck on your pretty lips or he was shoving his tongue in your mouth to shut you up when you were whining by his side. “You gonna stop being a fucking brat now?” He grabbed you by the throat, the cool metal of his ring digging into your neck. You nodded with a giggle as he leaned down and captured your lips against his.

Rafe loved to grab you roughly especially when you were too oblivious to the fact that the fat of your ass was being shown to him and his friends. The baby blue skirt you wore bounced in your step as you skipped into the living room to show Rafe. Barry was there, smirking as you had no idea your white lacy panties were showing as you twirled around. Large hands came to your side yanking you bank roughly as he pulled your skirt down. “You are gonna get yourself in trouble.” He told you, pulling you on his lap, his fingertips pressed into your bare hips as you a mumbled a sorry.

Rafe knew when to cut you off after you had too many drinks. Throwing a party at Tanneyhill, Rafe had kept you on a limit when it came to drinks. He didn’t care if you pouted after your third one. You were already starting to act like a brat. Introducing around to strangers, tits nearly hanging out of your bikini top. He now had you by his side as the two of you sat on the upstairs balcony so that he could settle you down. “Your fucking nipples showing to the whole fucking party. That’s why you aren’t getting anymore.”

[asharasasylum]

♡ drabble rafe cameron booklet - entry 2

˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗ warnings: dark fic!! allusions to non con and dub con. allusions to smut. step-cest. perv! Rafe. manipulation. drugs. slightly naive reader. 18+

“Are you still angry with me?” 

Rafe twisted his head around, finding you standing in the hallway, gazing over at him as you chewed on your bottom lip. 

You were supposed to be in the Bahamas with Dad, Rose and Wheezie, and yet a few hours before that he had found you standing in Barry’s yard with an overnight bag and a suitcase like you were about to take residence. He had been pissed at the sight, and you knew Barry’s lingering stares over your frame hadn’t helped. The memory made your stomach churn, recalling Barry’s leering eyes heavy on your bare legs as you made your way towards Rafe's truck. While Rafe hadn’t ever really played the protective older brother type, you were sure it wasn’t nice to see his so-called friend staring at you in that way. 

But Rafe wasn’t as tense now and you were sure the joint between his lips had something to do with it. 

“Come here,” he said, nodding his head for you to get closer. 

You could feel the corners of your lips tug upwards, but you fought off the smile as you stepped closer to him, not knowing yet if you were in his good books. As soon as you were within reach, he wrapped an arm around your waist, yanking you down into his lap. You tried to slip away, making yourself comfortable but with Rafe's arm pressed tightly against your stomach and his darkened gaze narrowing at you, all you could do was relax into the position. 

Rafe exhaled, blowing the smoke to the side as he continued to just stare. You hated the silence between you. Rafe was only ever silent when he was stewing on angry thoughts, seconds away from speaking up about them. And that was never usually in the calmest of manners.

“Please I-” 

“Dad would kill me if he knew you were here,” he stated. 

His gaze hardened, jaw clenching and you shuddered at the sight of it. 

“You know that right?” 

You nodded, parting your lips to speak, to explain yourself but he simply wasn’t having it. 

“I already have so much on my plate.” His hand dropped to between your thighs, gripping one of them with a tightness that had you wincing. “And now you want-” He squinted his eyes, leaning in closer to you. “What is it you want?” 

“I was worried about you,” you told him truthfully. 

His eyes flickered at that and he leaned back into his seat, taking a long drag of his joint before his eyes settled on you again. 

“Dad has Rose and Wheezie,” you started, fingers tracing patterns against his hand, hoping to ease his tense body. “And Sarah—” 

Your eyes drifted at that, breath catching in your throat as you recalled your younger sister. You missed her. 

“Wherever she is— has the pogues.” You turned your eyes back to him and rested your hand on top of his. “And you need someone.” You shrugged. “I just thought I could be that someone.” 

Rafe rolled his eyes, a deep chuckle rumbling in his chest as he breathed out the smoke, shaking his head. 

“Forget it,” you said, moving to stand up. 

But Rafe stopped you, holding you against him. “Don’t be like that.” 

“Do you always have to mock me?” You could feel your eyes watering and not wanting him to see how much he was upsetting you, your gaze moved elsewhere. 

You heard Rafe sigh from beside you before you felt his fingers curl around your chin, twisting your face to look back at him. His lips were curved into a knowing smirk, voice teasing as he whispered, “You’re sweet.” 

You weren’t entirely sure why but you shivered at his tone, goosebumps erupting over your flesh that you wished to hide. 

Sensing the tension in your body, Rafe’s hands rubbed up and down your thigh as he told you to relax. The word rolled off his tongue in a soft hum and it only served to make you more rigid on top of him. It didn’t stop him though and you felt heat swirl in the pit of your stomach as he shifted his hand up higher. 

“Rafe,” you squeaked, clamping your thighs tightly together. 

The humour seemed to drop from his face and before you knew it he was placing the joint to your lips. “Relax.” 

His darkened gaze had you wanting to appease him and after a little bit of hesitation, you took a hit. All while you sucked in the smoke, Rafe smiled but it wasn’t his usual mischievous smile, there was a wickedness there that you hadn’t seen before. One that had clenching your thighs around his hand a bit harder. 

If he noticed, he didn’t say anything. Instead Rafe pressed his thumb against your lips, making you hold the smoke until he dropped his hand back to his side with a satisfied sigh. 

Your lungs burned and you coughed as you exhaled, which of course made Rafe laugh once again. 

“You good?” He asked. 

You nodded in response but minutes later you weren’t feeling so good. 

You had only been high two times in your life before this, once when Sarah had convinced you to smoke some of Rafe’s stash that she had found hidden in the yacht and another time when Rafe had found out, and told you that he wouldn’t rat either of you out if you smoked with him as well. Both times you had fallen asleep quickly after, the high short lived as you drifted into a deep slumber. 

It was no different this time, your mind already slipping from the few hits Rafe had persuaded you to take. 

You were relaxed, a bit too relaxed. Your head rested against his shoulder and your thighs were parted a tad, just enough for Rafe to slip his fingers under the bottom of your shorts. 

You should have protested and you went to but Rafe’s other hand was firmly gripping your chin, keeping your head close enough to his to bring his lips to yours. Before you could react, he blew smoke between your parted lips, closing your mouth once he was done and opening it a few seconds later. 

Rafe continued to do this for a while, only taking moments from your lips to take a drag from the joint. He had you firmly distracted, mind becoming so hazy that you weren’t really paying attention to the way his lips were pressing further into yours with each blow, or the way his fingers were lodged all the way into your shorts. 

Eventually he pulled back, and the weed in your system started to take full effect as you fell back. 

Your head fell back into the cushions, and while you tried to fight sleep, blinking your eyes at Rafe, you couldn’t. Your body felt numb as your mind became fogged and the last thing you felt was your hips lifting, as your shorts were being dragged down your thighs. 

reblogs and comments are always appreciated

[haveihitanerve]

part of the last ask I sent you:

Batman to the justice league: You called my children!

Superman: We thought if anyone could talk sense into you( or a least annoy you enough stop) it be your kids.

Also best way to calm a pissed off batman, hand him one of his babies. Hal, Oliver and Barry have done it a lot. It's worked 50/50 on distracting him long enough to avoid an angry batman.

yes!!!

Batman: *storming towards Barry and Hal after a bad mission* Barry: *oh shit!* *yanks Robin over* Hal: *throws him at Bruce* Robin!Dick: hiya Dad! Batman: *immediately melts*

they owe him soooo much ice cream and piggy back rides but its worth it