Peter Solarz
No title available

shark vs the universe

PR's Tumblrdome
wallacepolsom

izzy's playlists!
todays bird
No title available
Cosmic Funnies

ellievsbear

roma★

No title available
tumblr dot com

pixel skylines
sheepfilms
Mike Driver
styofa doing anything
will byers stan first human second
hello vonnie
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH

seen from Malaysia

seen from Spain
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Iceland

seen from Türkiye
seen from Ireland
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Canada

seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States

seen from United States
@rafegetinmybed
Merry Christmas! sorry I haven’t been posting, im checking my inbox rn to get started on requests
hiii! i just read all of your work and omg im obsessed!! i was wondering if you could do a professor!rafe and have y/n meet him for office hours bc she has some questions about an assignment, and when she doesn’t understand, he teachers her a lesson😉!! thanks love!
CONTENT WARNING: professor!rafe cameron x student!reader, rough sex, fingering, unprotected p in v, raw creampie, covering mouth, age gap.
Professor Rafe Cameron was known for two things on campus: his sharp mind and his even sharper temper. His classes were grueling, his grading unforgiving, and yet, students still lined up for his office hours—some genuinely struggling with the material, others just wanting a taste of his icy blue gaze.
You fell into the first category—mostly.
You had stared at your latest assignment for hours, trying to make sense of Rafe’s cramped, critical notes in the margins. His harsh red pen had bled through the paper, marking your arguments as “underdeveloped” and your analysis as “lazy.” Frustrated, you finally gathered your books and stormed toward his office.
The door swings open, and there he is—blond hair slightly tousled, sleeves rolled to his elbows, that cold, assessing gaze sliding over you. "Y/N," he says, your name like a slow sip of whiskey on his tongue. "Cutting it close to office hours."
You swallow hard, clutching your notebook. "I—I had some questions about the assignment."
His lips curl, amused. "Of course you did." He steps aside, letting you in, the door clicking shut behind you with finality.
You sit stiffly in the chair across from his desk, flipping open your notes, trying to ignore the way his eyes bore into you. You stumble through your questions, and every time you falter, his smirk deepens.
"You really don’t get it, do you?" he murmurs, leaning back in his chair.
Your face burns. "No."
"Figures." He stands, coming around the desk with the lazy confidence of a predator circling prey. "Maybe you need a different kind of lesson."
Before you can react, his hand is on your wrist, dragging you up. Your breath catches as he spins you around, bending you over the edge of his desk, the wood pressing into your hips.
"Hands flat," he orders, and you obey without thinking, fingers splaying against the cool surface.
He hikes your skirt up, and you gasp when his fingers hook into the side of your panties, tugging them aside with a rough jerk. "You’ve been driving me fucking crazy all semester," he grunts, the heat of his body pressing against you. "Sitting in the front row, biting your lip like you’re not begging for it."
Your pulse races, shame and arousal twisting together as his fingers drag through your slick folds, circling your clit with mocking precision. "P-Professor—"
"Shut up," he mutters, two fingers pushing into you without warning. You whimper, your knees buckling as he works you open, the obscene wet sound filling the quiet office. "See? Knew you were soaked for me."
You bury your face in your arms, embarrassment burning through you, but you can’t stop rocking back against his hand.
Then his fingers are gone, replaced by the thick press of his cock, and you cry out as he slams into you in one brutal thrust.
"Fuck,” his hand clamps over your mouth, muffling your moans as he sets a punishing pace, his hips snapping into yours with no mercy. "That’s it, take it like a good girl."
Your thighs tremble, the desk creaking under his force, every drag of him inside you sending shocks of pleasure up your spine. He’s too big, stretching you to the brink, but you can’t stop the way your body clenches around him, greedy.
Rafe’s grip tightens, his breath hot against your ear. "Gonna fill you up," he rasps, his thrusts turning erratic. "Then you’ll finally understand the assignment."
You don’t even have time to process his words before he’s burying himself deep, spilling inside you with a low groan. You whimper as his cum floods your cunt, dripping between your thighs when he finally pulls out.
He tugs his shirt straight like nothing happened, smirking down at the mess he made of you.
“Office hours are every Wednesday,” he says, tossing your panties into the trash. “Don’t be late.”
a/n: I rewrote this so many times 😭😭 I hope you enjoy and thank you so much for the kind words 🥹 they’re so encouraging
hierarchy sucks😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
seriously? 😭 what makes you say that
CONTENT WARNING: rafe cameron x pogue!reader, rough sex, manhandling, choking, oral penetration, p in v, raw creampie, breeding kink, spitting in mouth.
Rafe Cameron had a way of making your blood boil.
You hated him.
Hated the way his cold blue eyes raked over you like he owned you. Hated the smirk that played on his lips when he knew he’d gotten under your skin. Hated how your body betrayed you every damn time he was near, aching for his touch even as your teeth clenched in frustration.
It was always like this—volatile, electric, dangerous.
Tonight was no different.
You’d been at The Wreck, nursing a drink, trying to ignore the way Rafe’s gaze burned into you from across the dimly lit bar. But when he sauntered over, all swagger and arrogance, you couldn’t help but rise to the bait.
“What the hell do you want, Rafe?” you spat, tilting your head back to glare at him.
He chuckled low, crowding you against the bar, his fingers digging into your waist. “You know exactly what I want, Pogue.”
His breath was hot against your ear, his grip tightening as he pulled you flush against him. You could feel the hard press of him against your thigh, and despite yourself, your stomach coiled with heat.
“Fuck you,” you whispered, shoving at his chest—but he only grinned, catching your wrist and twisting it behind your back.
“I think you mean fuck me,” he chuckled before dragging you out of the bar.
The second the door of his empty OBX beach house slammed shut, he was on you—hands rough, mouth ravenous. You gasped as he spun you around, shoving you against the wall, his knee forcing your legs apart.
“Say it,” he demanded, fingers curling around your throat, just tight enough to make your head swim. “Say you want it.”
You bared your teeth, defiance flashing in your eyes—but then he spit in your mouth, and your moan was involuntary, your resistance crumbling.
“Fuck, Rafe—”
He laughed darkly, yanking your shorts down with one sharp tug before his fingers were inside you, ruthless, unforgiving. “Should’ve known you’d be this wet for me,” he sneered, scissoring his fingers hard, making your knees buckle.
You clawed at his arm, panting, your body arching into his touch.
“Not yet,” he murmured, pulling his fingers free and dropping to his knees. His tongue replaced them, rough and slick, lapping at you until you were gasping, writhing, your hands fisted in his hair.
Then he was up again, flipping you around, pressing your chest into the wall as he kicked your legs wider. “Keep begging,” he ordered, his cock dragging against your entrance before slamming home in one brutal thrust.
You cried out, nails scraping against the wall as he fucked you raw, his grip bruising on your hips, his teeth sinking into your shoulder.
“You take it so fucking good,” he grunted, pounding into you, his hand wrapping around your throat again. “Could breed you right here, fill you up, make sure everyone knows who you belong to.”
The words sent a filthy thrill through you, your body clamping around him as you neared the edge.
Rafe felt it, his rhythm stuttering before he cursed, pulling out just long enough to flip you onto your back on the floor, yanking your legs over his shoulders.
“Look at me,” he snarled, sinking back into you, his thrusts relentless. “You come on my cock, or you don’t come at all.”
Your climax ripped through you, his name a broken sob on your lips as he followed, burying himself deep, spilling inside you with a groan.
He collapsed over you, both of you panting, sweat-slick and wrecked.
Then, just as abruptly as it started, his icy smirk returned. “Still hate me, Pogue?”
You shoved at him weakly, but the fire in your veins told the truth.
This wasn’t hate.
It was something far worse.
a/n: inspired by this post :) i hope you like it!
divider creds: @/cursed-carmine
omg i love the glory so much! have you ever watched hierarchy?
no, not yet! but i really plan on it 😭😭 my fyp is full of kdrama edits and ive got spoiled a little but i still rlly look forward to it
ur writing is insane omg
just now seeing this after you’ve left 💔💔
tysm, you’re actually one of my biggest inspirations and i hope life is treating you well! 💞
what’s ur fav kdrama!!!
hii!! i love ur blog and aesthetic so muchhh
if I had to choose, id say all time favorite kdrama is weak hero class and my second favorite is the glory! i really love revenge & bully kdramas idk why 😭
tutor tom riddle fucking you in the hogwarts library.
You find yourself alone with no other than tom riddle in the hogwarts library, surrounded by ancient books and the scent of old parchment. Tom is your tutor for defense against the dark arts, and his cold demeanor only adds to his allure. He leans in close, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers the incantation for a protection spell. But his hands are not on the books, they are on you.
His fingers trail down your spine, sending shivers down your body. He grips your hips tightly, pulling you closer to him. "You’re not focusing," he says, his voice low and rough. "Perhaps I need to find a different way to motivate you?"
Before you can respond, Tom’s lips are on yours, his tongue demanding entrance. You melt into him, your hands tangling in his hair. he breaks the kiss, leaving you gasping for breath. "Take off your clothes," he commands, his eyes dark with desire.
You hesitate for a moment, but the heat in his gaze is too much to resist. You slowly strip off your robes, revealing your naked body beneath. Tom’s eyes rake over you, making you feel wanted and desired. "on your knees," he says, his voice rough.
You obey, sinking to your knees in front of him. Tom undoes his pants, releasing his hard cock. You take it in your hand, stroking it slowly. he groans, his hips thrusting forward. "take it in your mouth," he demands.
You oblige, taking him deep into your mouth. He groans, his hand tangling in your hair as he fucks your mouth. You moan around him, the taste of him making you wet. He pulls out of your mouth, his cock glistening with your saliva. "Stand up," he commands.
You stand, your body trembling with desire. He lifts you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. He slams into you, his cock filling you completely. You cry out, your nails digging into his shoulders. he covers your mouth with his palm, silencing your loud moans.
Tom fucks you hard and fast, hitting all the right spots. You cling to him, your orgasm building. He reaches between you, rubbing your clit with his thumb. You explode, your body shaking with pleasure. tom follows, spilling his hot seed inside you.
He sets you down, his cock still inside you. "You're a good student," he says, his voice rough. "I think you'll do well in defense against the dark arts." You smile, feeling a sense of satisfaction. you know you've earned his approval, both in the classroom and in the bedroom.
hey girlie, just want to say i LOVE ur blog i wanna hear ur thoughts on dating draco in year 7? and how would he dismiss pansy
You tripped near the Restricted Section, sending a pile of ancient runes books clattering. He was there, not to help, but watching, a smirk playing on his lips.
Instead of apologising or blushing, you just met his gaze, raised an eyebrow, and started picking them up. That's when his smirk faltered, replaced by something… intrigued.
You didn't fawn, you didn't cower, and that was it.
He was hooked.
The utter lack of fear, the way you just looked at him like he was slightly annoying wallpaper.
At first, he just hovered, throwing out casual insults that didn’t land, trying to provoke a reaction. When you just sighed and rolled your eyes, he got even more obsessed.
It was actually hilarious to watch him get flustered. He started turning up everywhere you were – the library, the Great Hall, even lurking near your common room entrance with some paper-thin excuse.
You eventually just gave in, mostly because his attempts at subtlety were so pathetic they were kinda cute.
Dating Draco in seventh year was an exercise in controlled chaos, but in the best way. He was still Draco Malfoy, of course – the sneering pureblood prince with a permanent air of superiority.
But for you?
You got the version no one else saw.
The one who'd subtly shift closer to you in the common room, his arm brushing yours 'accidentally'.
The one who’d bring you extra pumpkin juice at breakfast, just because he remembered you liked it more than the tea.
The one whose hand finds your thigh under the table in the Great Hall, a subtle, yet touch that screams "Mine."
A possessive hand on the small of your back as you walked through the corridors, a fleeting brush of knuckles under the table in the library, or that intense, knowing look he’d give you when someone else was being particularly dim-witted.
He loved to watch you study, sprawled on the Slytherin common room sofa, pretending to read his own book while his eyes kept flickering to your face. He’d complain about homework, then quietly help you with your most difficult potions essay, his elegant script making your own look like a child’s scrawl.
One afternoon, as you were leaving History of Magic, Pansy walked in clinging to Draco’s arm like a particularly annoying limpet. Her voice, shrill as ever, was demanding his attention.
Draco, spotting you just a few feet away, rolled his eyes so subtly you’d almost miss it. He detached Pansy’s hand from his sleeve with a practiced ease. "Pansy," he said, cool and even, "we've been over this. I’m quite busy these days. My affections, as you know, are otherwise engaged."
He glanced at you, a almost-smirk playing on his lips before turning back to her. "Honestly, darling, your persistence stopped being endearing around third year. Find someone else to bother. Preferably someone who actually wants to be bothered."
The hint, delivered with a casual swipe of his hand through the air, was unmistakable. Pansy’s face fell, and Draco simply gave her one last, dismissive look before turning to you, a corner of his mouth twitching upwards. "Ready for dinner?" he asked, as if the conversation had never happened.
Can you do where rafe and y/n are fighting then Rafe kisses y/n to be quiet then they end up having sex please?
You were yelling, he was yelling, the same damn fight you always had. Rafe’s jaw was tight, eyes blazing, and you just kept going, pushing every button. Then he moved. Fast. He grabbed your face, pulling you in hard, a rough, bruising kiss that crashed against your mouth, stealing your breath and any more words.
You tasted him, a primal demand in the bruising kiss that quickly stole your breath and your anger.
He didn’t break the kiss, just pushed you back, hard, until your ass hit the cold granite of the island. You went pliant as his knee forced your legs apart, pushing your skirt up and out of the way. He lifted you, and your thighs instinctively wrapped around his waist, the cool laminate hitting your heated skin.
No preamble, no gentle touch. Just a hard, sure thrust that buried him deep inside you. You cried out, the counter digging into your ass as he started to move, slow at first, then faster, harder. "Fuck, you like that, huh?" he gritted out, his breath hot on your ear as he slammed into you, making the counter rattle. "Shut you up good, didn't it?"
Every thrust sent a jolt through you, hands clawing at his hair as he rocked your hips, your clit aching with the pressure. He buried his face in your neck, groaning, his rhythm relentless, primal.
“Thought you had something to say, huh?” he rasped against your ear, pumping into you, each thrust a forceful, punishing claim. You could only whimper, clutching at his shoulders as he drove you wild against the counter, slick and wet from his relentless pace.
"Shit, you're so tight, baby," he groaned, hips slamming against yours. Each thrust was deep, primal, making your head loll back against the cabinet above. "Yeah, that's it. Just ride me, sweet girl." He pounded into you, your cries turning into breathless whimpers. Your nails dug into his shoulders, hips bucking to meet his furious pace.
“Fuck,” he grunted, a final, powerful thrust emptying him deep inside you, hot and heavy, leaving you trembling and breathless. He pulled back, both of you panting, your body still humming with his finish.
rafe fucks you while you’re high
The world felt like it was humming, a low-frequency buzz in your ears from the coke and weed. Barry’s trailer, usually just a stale metal box, felt like a velvet cave, thick with the smell of cheap weed and something acrid from all the drug deals. You were sprawled across the worn-out couch seat, Rafe’s head heavy in your lap, his eyes a little too wide, pupils blown out.
“Be right back, gotta grab more wraps,” Barry grunted, his voice muffled by the thick air, and then the door creaked open and shut, leaving you two alone in the humid silence.
Rafe's head lifted, his gaze locking onto yours, a slow, predatory grin stretching across his face. “Finally,” he purred, his voice rough. His hand reached up, his fingers brushing your inner thigh, making your skin prickle. "You feel that, huh?"
You just hummed, the coke making your nerves sing, a wildfire already licking at your insides. His fingers moved higher, delving under your shorts, finding the damp heat there. You arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping your lips.
"That's it," he whispered, his eyes dark with hunger. He stood, pulling you up roughly, your bodies slamming together. His mouth was on yours, hot and demanding, his tongue tasting like cheap beer and something else feral. He tore at your clothes, not bothering with buttons or zippers, and you did the same, urgent and clumsy in the small space.
“You’re so fucking wet for me, aren’t you?” he breathed against your neck, his hips grinding against yours. “Already begging.”
He pushed you back against the grimy wall of the trailer, legs parting with a soft slide of friction. His hand gripped your hip, pulling you close, and then he was there, hot and hard, pushing inside you with a groan that vibrated through your bones. You cried out, a sharp, choked sound, as he filled you completely.
He started to move, slowly at first, then faster, a relentless rhythm that matched the frantic beat of your heart. The trailer swayed around you, bumping and rattling with every thrust. You wrapped your legs around his waist, digging your nails into his shoulders, riding him hard, the drugs making every sensation explode.
“Yeah, just like that,” he grunted, his breath hot on your ear. “Fucking perfect. You feel good, baby? So good.”
You couldn't form words, just whimpers and moans, your head thrown back against the wall, the world narrowing to the insistent press of his body, the wet slap of skin, the dizzying rush of pure, unadulterated pleasure. You bucked against him, desperate for more, pushing yourself closer to the edge, Rafe holding you tight, a grunting, primal sound in his throat.
“Shit,” he groaned, grabbing a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back, his eyes locked on yours. “Fucking mine.”
He slammed into you one last time, a guttural roar tearing from his throat as he emptied himself deep inside you, hot and thick and overwhelming. You arched your back, a pleasure so intense it bordered on pain rippling through your core. He collapsed on you, breathless, his chest heaving.
You were still tangled together, gasping and sweaty, when the trailer door creaked open.
“What the fuck man?!" Barry’s voice, laced with pure annoyance, sliced through the drug-hazed afterglow.
rafe likes to make you cry when he fucks you
His hips were already rocking against yours, a deep, primal thrum that vibrated right through you. Rafe’s hard cock was buried, deep, inside you, stretching you to your limit with every thrust. You gasped, head thrown back against the pillows on his bed, the sheets tangled around your legs. He had that intent look on his face, eyes sharp and focused, watching every little twitch, every ripple of pleasure that crossed your face.
"Fuck baby, just like that," he rumbled, breath hot against your ear as he leaned down, a possessive hand gripping your hip, pinning you to the mattress. His fingers dug in, just enough to leave a mark, and you arched into him, a soft moan escaping your lips. The rhythm was picking up, a frantic pulse that mirrored your own racing heart. He was moving faster now, that thick length sliding in and out, slick and hot, hitting that sweet spot every single time.
You could feel the edge getting closer, a delicious, unbearable tension building low in your belly. Your eyes were squeezed shut, caught up in the rising tide, but then his hand was on your jaw, fingers a little rough as he angled your face up, forcing your eyes open. His blue gaze bore into yours, an almost predatory glint there. He thrust hard, one deep stroke that made you cry out, and he leaned in close, his voice a low, gravelly whisper.
"Cry for me," he demanded, those words a jolt, cutting through the haze of pleasure. "Come on, baby. Cry for me."
No, not like this. Not now. You tried to pull away, a small whimper catching in your throat, but his grip was firm. He didn't let you go, just held your face captive, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone as he plunged back into you, harder this time, pushing you right to the brink.
The pleasure was so overwhelming, so intense, it was almost pain. A tear escaped, then another, hot trails down your temples as he watched, his eyes devouring every single one. You felt your control shatter, the dam breaking, and you sobbed, a ragged sound escaping you just as your body convulsed around him, clenching tight as he emptied himself deep inside you. He held your tear-streaked face through it all, a dark, satisfied smirk playing on his lips.
when you’re short on rafe’s payment
You felt him deep inside, a rough, insistent push that had you gasping, your back arching off his bed. His hand, calloused and strong, gripped your hip, holding you steady as he found his rhythm. The air was thick with the smell of stale pot smoke and something else, something sharp and metallic – Rafe. It was always Rafe.
"Fuuuck, I thought you had the cash, huh?" he murmured, his breath hot against your ear, a low rumble in his chest. His movements were steady, deliberate, making sure you felt every inch of him. "Guess not. Lucky for you, I'm feeling generous, doll."
You bit your lip, tasting copper. Generous. Yeah, right. You’d come up short, again, a few hundred bucks shy for the coke stashed in that crumpled baggie on the nightstand. You’d tried to bluff, tried to charm, but Rafe Cameron didn’t do charm when it came to his money. Or his product. He just looked at you, that dangerous glint in his eyes, and you knew what was coming. You always knew.
"This is payment," he ground out, a harder thrust driving the point home. You let out a muffled groan, your fingers digging into the worn sheets beneath you. It was payment, alright. A fucked-up, unspoken transaction that left you breathless and aching in a way money never could.
His eyes, dark and intense even in the dim light filtering through the grimy curtains, met yours. "You wanted it, didn't you? The good shit?" He shifted, a slight pull that made you whimper before he slammed back into you. "This is how you fucking get it."
You closed your eyes, the sensation overwhelming, a mix of shame and a raw, undeniable current of something else you didn't want to name. His hips pumped, relentless, a silent declaration that this was the deal, the one you’d implicitly agreed to the moment you’d admitted you were short. He wasn't asking. He was taking what he was owed, in the only currency he was interested in right now.
𓂃⋆.˚ A SUMMER TO REMEMBER
pairing: Rafe Cameron x Kook!Reader
summary: Sarah invites you to spend the summer in the Outer Banks with her family. You don’t really know Rafe that well—he’s strange and a little guarded—but as the summer goes on, you start to get closer.
Between beach days, bonfires, and late-night talks, you and Rafe bond more than you expected. It’s just supposed to be a fun summer, but maybe there’s something more worth exploring before it’s over.
PARTS
nothing here yet . . .
EXTRAS
nothing here either . . .
ꨄ WHEN RAFE THINKS YOU’RE CHEATING ᭡
cw: rafe slaps you, unhealthy relationship, manipulation, you are blind and in love.
You sit on rafe’s bed, your legs swinging lightly as you scroll through your phone, a playful smile on your lips. The soft light filters through the curtains, warming the room, but a tense atmosphere lingers. Rafe paces near you, his gaze flickering in your direction, an intensity radiating from him.
“Who are you texting?” he asks, his voice low and curious. you glance up, a teasing spark in your eyes.
“Just some friends,” you respond, trying to sound casual, but you can sense the shift in his demeanor. He steps closer, closing the distance between you, his presence commanding.
“Give me your phone,” he says, urgency creeping into his tone. A knot twists in your stomach, a mix of nervousness and intrigue.
“Rafe, it’s really nothing serious—”
“Now,” he interrupts, his tone leaving little room for argument. You reluctantly hand over your phone, the air thick with unspoken tension as he scrolls through your messages, the atmosphere buzzing softly.
“You’re being too friendly,” he mutters, suspicion edging into his voice. What you thought were innocent conversations suddenly feel weighted.
“Who—who were you talking to, huh?” he demands, his voice dropping, and you feel the urge to squirm under his gaze. You want to explain, to soothe his worries, but the intensity in his eyes holds you in place. “Did you delete your fucking messages?”
“Rafe, I wasn’t—”
“Don’t lie to me, y/n. Don’t you fucking dare.” he snaps, irritation flaring, and the force of his words sends a chill down your spine. In an instant, his hand strikes your cheek, the unexpected sting leaving you momentarily disoriented.
You look up at him, your eyes glistening with tears, and bat your wet lashes as you try to comprehend what just happened. “Why would you think i’m cheating?” uou whisper, your voice trembling, seeking understanding in his expression, but all you find is a mix of hurt and something darker.
“Because people can be unpredictable,” he scoffs, stepping back, his body tense. “I can’t trust you like this.” his gaze scans you, a mix of concern and something possessive. “You think they’re just friends? What if they want something more? What if they just want to get in your pants, huh?”
You swallow hard, the knot in your stomach tightening. “I’m not interested in anyone else. you know that.”
He steps closer again, invading your space, and takes your chin in his hand, forcing you to meet his steady gaze. “You say that now, but if you keep talking to them, who’s to say you won’t change your mind? You’re mine.”
His voice softens, almost tender, but the underlying tension remains clear. “You need to remember that.”
Before you can respond, he leans in, kissing you with a fervent intensity that sends your heart racing and your thoughts spiraling. A part of you is drawn to the passion, but another part feels a twinge of apprehension.
As you pull back slightly, trying to catch your breath, he doesn’t let go, holding your chin firmly as he searches your eyes. “Don’t ever forget who you belong to,” he warns, his tone a mix of longing and urgency.
In that moment, reality settles heavily around you. The warmth of the kiss still lingers, but beneath it lies an unsettling awareness of control. Looking into his eyes, you feel a clash of exhilaration and dread. With every breath, you feel the intensity, a dangerous game unfolding, where love takes on a possessive edge that leaves you both exhilarated and uneasy.
ꨄ IF YOU EVER TRIED TO LEAVE RAFE ᭡
You’d know how quickly everything can spiral out of control. One moment, you're ready to walk away, bags packed, desperate to escape. The next, he’s casually strolling into the room, scrolling on his phone, eyes half-lidded, not even bothering to hide his mood.
He pauses, lifts his gaze from the screen, and tilts his head slightly. “Hey,” he says, voice even but cold. But then his eyes flick to the bags beside you, then back to your face, and his jaw tenses. “Don’t even start your bullshit right now, Y/N.”
You flinch, your voice shaking. “I can’t do this anymore. I need to leave. It’s just too much, Rafe.”
His face darkens as he steps closer, voice sharp but still controlled. “Hold on, you’re seriously packing your shit and trying to leave right now? You’re kidding, right?”
You can feel your heart racing, “Rafe—”
He cuts you off, voice rising now, voice thick with anger. “Oh, so now you wanna leave? After everything? You’re really gonna just walk out like I haven’t done shit for you? You’re crazy if you think I’m gonna let you do that.”
You try to speak, voice trembling. “Rafe, I can’t keep doing this. It’s suffocating!”
“No, no, no. Don’t try that shit with me. You’re not leaving me. You think I don’t see what you’re doin’? You’re just trying to fucking run away because that’s all you do. When shit gets hard, you run away and hide.”
You wipe at your eyes, desperate. “I just— I need a break. I need to get out of here for a bit, Rafe. This isn’t healthy. I can’t keep living like this.”
His face twists with anger. “Healthy? Are you fucking kidding me? Look at you. You’re packin’ up, talkin’ about leaving like everything’s fine. You’re just scared, that’s all. You think I don’t know what’s really going on? Nah. You’re full of shit.”
He steps even closer, voice sharp, almost snarling. “You really think I don’t know what I’ve done? You think I don’t know how deep this runs? I’ve killed people, yeah, but that’s ‘cause I had to. I did what I had to do to protect us. I did everything for us! So don’t you dare sit here and try to tell me I’m the bad guy!”
You try to hold your ground, voice trembling but firm. “Rafe, I’m not… I’m not trying to call you the bad guy… I’m just— I need space. I need to breathe. This is—it’s all too much for me.”
He interrupts, voice thick with menace. “You’re deranged if you think I’m just gonna let you walk out that door. You think I don’t care? I care too much. That’s why I’m mad. You’re makin’ a mistake. You’re gonna regret this.”
His hand reaches out, grabbing your arm roughly but not enough to hurt, just enough to make you wince. “You’re mine, Y/N. And if you try to leave, you’ll see what happens. I don’t lose control. But I swear, if you push me enough, I will.”
You stare at him, tears falling now, voice cracking. “Rafe, please. I love you, but I can’t keep living like this. I need to go… just for a little while. I need some space to breathe.”
His expression hardens, but his tone remains calm—dangerously so. “Love? You don’t know what love is. Love doesn’t make you feel like you’re suffocating. You’re just scared. I get it. But you’re wrong. You’re mine, and I’m not gonna let you walk away from me. You’re not gonna do this. I’m not going to let you ruin everything.”
He leans in closer, eyes dark and intense. “So, you better decide right now—are you gonna stay, or are you gonna keep playin’ these games? Cause I’m tellin’ you right now—if you try to leave, you’re gonna regret it. And I don’t think you want that.”
You feel the weight of his anger, the manipulation hidden behind his words. You realize, painfully, that walking out isn’t an option. Not with him.