#military!rafe

[lovlidollie]

author’s note ; bit of an alternative universe, ward sent rafe away after he killed peterkin in s1, timeline is slightly accelerated. i’m imagining s3!rafe as who he comes back as :3

thinking of military!rafe who comes back after hearing about ward’s death, looking nothing like the coke addicted, wiry little frat boy that had left kildare. he’s matured. he’s grown. long gone are the greasy bangs, a smooth buzz in its place. he’s taller, broader, stronger. his biceps pull at all his shirts, threatening to tear and his thighs are thicker, fuller. he exudes confidence, dominance, a (not so) quiet sense of authority.

he couldn’t give two shits if ward was dead. he was the one that had forcibly enlisted him after the drugs and the alcohol and everything got too much. after the … peterkin incident. he’d been sent away, without even getting to say goodbye to you. little old you.

you were his everything of course. the one constant in his life. when you’d heard rafe was on his way back, you didn’t know how to feel. you’d tried to ignore the anxiety, the stutter in your heart; what if he didn’t want to see you? what if he’d found someone else? it’s not like you guys were together in the first place. back then it had been so fragile, so complicated, caught between the lines of friends and something more. rafe had never said the words and neither had you.

unbeknownst to you, rafe had been thinking about you every single second of every single day he was gone. during grueling drills and physical training. during meals and free time. especially during late nights in his bunk where he’d fist his cock at the memory of your face, biting his lips to stop your name from slipping between his teeth.

he’d told himself that when he got back, he’d make things right. he didn’t care how long it took or how hard it’d be — he’d do whatever it took to prove to you that he was a man now. a man who could appreciate all you did for him, everything you sacrificed. a man who was deserving of your attention. a man who could provide and take care of, and love you.

[cameronsprincess]

i love this 😍

nobody cares but dad!military!rafe x mom!housewife!reader. i need this so bad (moodboards and aesthetic only !)

PLEASE THIS AU LET A CHANCE TO EVERYTHING, SMUT, ANGST, BITTERNESS, LOVE AND FLUFF.

[rafeyscurtainbangs]

𝓻𝓪𝓯𝓮𝔂𝓼𝓬𝓾𝓻𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓫𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓼

𝙽𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝙻𝚒𝚜𝚝 | 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬

𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝕊𝕚𝕩𝕥𝕖𝕖𝕟: 𝔽𝕝𝕪𝕓𝕠𝕪

𝚃𝚘𝚙𝙶𝚞𝚗!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙱𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚊!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

warnings: angst, pet names, swearing

📖 This is based on a prompt from bloodibambiidoll. Thank you for thinking of me, baby! TopGun!Rafe x Ballerina!Reader have been dating for years. Rafe is stationed across the country on the West Coast, and the reader has landed her dream role in the New York City Ballet, playing The Rose Queen in The Nutcracker on the East Coast. A running joke between the two is Rafe asking the reader if she’s ready to get married yet… that joke is starting not to feel like such a joke anymore. The reader isn't ready to give up her dream.

Masterlist

Rafe’s POV:

I catch my reflection in the truck's rearview mirror as I pull into the base parking lot. My flight suit is still on from morning drills. Captain Rafe Cameron staring back at me in neat letters above my heart.

Split-second decisions in a fighter jet… Fuck it. That shit’s simple, but with her, I just can’t seem to get it right. I don’t even know if I’m brave enough to keep pushing the issue because the more I push, the farther she slips away.

I want her here with me… I don’t want to give her an ultimatum because I know that if I do, there’s a chance that she won’t choose me.

And I don’t blame her.

I didn’t get into the military because I loved it… I got into the military because I had to, and I started to love it along the way. She has always loved ballet.

I toss my keys to my desk, quickly pulling up my laptop for our nightly chat. She catches me while I’m making dinner; I see her while she snuggles up in bed.

Her smile brightens as she sees me on the screen, making my stomach flutter. "Hey, Captain," she breathes, her voice light and sweet. "How's my favorite flyboy?"

I rub my hands across my smile, feeling those thoughts that were plaguing me before fading away just seeing her pretty face. “Busy…” I hum. “Thinkin’ about you as always.”

She giggles and bites her lip, feeling that feeling too. “I love you, baby.”

“I love you too,” I assure.

“I miss you,” she pouts through a gentle smile.

I throw my gaze away, nodding as I take in her words. “Well, you know. We could make it easier if we wanted to,” I answer simply. I watch her features change, my tone colder than I intended, I am sure, but it was hard to push down how I was feeling. I swallow thickly, waiting for the repercussions of my words, but she rolls her eyes away and looks toward the door.

“Don’t start, Rafe,” she whispers weakly.

"I'm not startin’ anything," I mumble, but I know that's a lie. "I'm just sayin’ it wouldn't be so bad here. It's warm. It's quiet. There’s a ballet company here too-“

“Rafe,” she cuts me off, her voice sharper than I’ve ever heard before, making the hair on the back of my neck stand straight.

“M’sorry. I am sorry,” I respond quickly and submissively, hoping for grace as I anxiously run my fingers through my hair. "Forget it, please. I’m sorry, princess.”

The tension between us settles. She knows me… She knows It’s coming from a place of love, but her patience with me is wearing thinner by the day.

The New York City Ballet isn't just a job—it's her dream. The Nutcracker is a ballet she's danced a dozen times since she was a little girl, but here she is, getting to do it on one of the biggest stages in the world. And here I am, selfishly asking her to walk away from it all.

But then again, I have dreams too… I have orders, and unlike most men, I can’t just get up and walk away. I have dreams outside of this as well... And they’re all about her.

We never hang up on bad terms… but this conversation feels different. There’s a weight on my chest I just can’t lift.

The next couple of days pass by like a daze, a blur of drills and paperwork, but this aching feeling that I was going to lose her was tearing at my heart.

And then it happens, four days before Christmas…

"I don't see why you need to bring this up anymore, Rafe,” she snaps, her voice laced with tears, cracking on the other end of the line.

“Because I’m lonely, alright? I’m tired of being alone,” I yell back. “I’m tired of seeing you a few days every few months when you have the time. I want to be just as much a priority to you as you are to me. Do you know how embarrassing it is to talk about the future and you shoot me down each time? Don’t you understand how hard it is for me to keep askin’ you to marry me, and you treat it like a joke?”

“You’re not being serious when you say that, Rafe,” she scoffs.

“The first, second, and third time… I was serious, but yeah, I supposed after hintin’ at it for the hundredth fuckin’ time it feels like satire to you,” I sneer.

The other end of the line goes silent, and at that moment, I know I lost her. I shut my eyes tightly, feeling the tears roll down my cheeks, picturing her looking the same way.

"That's not fair, Rafe," she whimpers.

"I feel the same way.”

And then the line goes dead…

I told myself to give her space, but it was torture. I kept staring at my phone, pulling up her number, begging her to call me. She didn't… And I didn't, because I was too ashamed of what I said.

The guilt was crushing. I could still hear the damage in her voice, the sharp silence that followed my cruel words. I'd said she didn't care as much as I did, but that was a lie. Of course she fuckin’ cared. She taught me what that meant. I didn't know what it meant to be cared for. I wasn't strong enough. It wasn't her fault. It was mine.

I lay awake, staring at the darkness of my room— my mind, replaying memories of her laugh, her smile, the sweet names she called. I missed everything about her: her voice, her eyes, even the little huffs and sighs she'd give when I teased her too much. She was the best part of my day, whether she called right after her rehearsals or when I watched her drift to sleep.

I kept thinkin’ about all the times I’d joked about marrying her, the way she’d laugh and roll her eyes, saying, “Not yet, Rafe.” That “not yet” wasn’t just about me—it was about her, about the life she’d fought so hard to build. Just last week, she had called me, nearly bursting with excitement after the review in the New York Times praising her for her performance in the Rose Adagio. Raving about her strength and form in the series of promenades in attitude. Her joy had been infectious, and I couldn't stop smiling as I listened to her gush about upcoming shows. I couldn't help but brag about her the next day to my co-pilot like he gave a shit—like I knew more about ballet than what left her perfect lips.

I want to share my life with her outside of our jobs. I want to belong to her, be there for her when she gets home, and when she wakes up.

I need her.

The theatre is packed, not an empty seat in the house. I clutch a bouquet of roses in my hand as I make my way to the middle seats. I stare up at the stage, unbuttoning my white service dress, hoping to see a glimpse of her.

The house lights dim within moments— my split-second decision to fly across the country for the Christmas Eve show leaves me only minutes to get my feet under me.

The orchestra strikes its first note, making me straighten up in my seat. “The Minature Overture” into “The Decoration of the Christmas Tree”—I smile to myself as I recall the many nights she played the music for me, telling me the little intricacies they were having with that variation as she sat behind the computer scene. And then I heard it… “The Waltz of the Flowers,” her song.

Any troubles she told me about all those nights she was rubbing the pain out of her feet or bandaging her toes up after practicing on end were null. There was no falter. Sheer perfection— she always has been.

Her movements are smooth and polished, making tears rise in my eyes. It took me this long—it took a fight for me to come out here and see what I needed to. Each leap, turn, and gesture was a love letter to the one thing she was willing to risk it all for. Every step was met with precision and grace, making effort look completely effortless. It was the perfect combination of physical strength and softness.

A little girl leans into me, trying to get a better look at the stage as she looks through the crowd, clutching her Clara doll. I can't help but imagine my girl at that age doing the same thing. Looking up at the stage with those same wide-eyes, dreaming of herself dancing in their shoes when she grew up, and now look where she is… living it.

By the time the curtain falls, I’m not just in love with her… I’m in awe.

I step into the promenade, clutching the bouquet in my fist for dear life as the lobby fills with post-performance conversation.

I stand by where I was told she’d be… an autograph table—signing little silk ballet slipper ornaments, with a long line of little girls waiting for her to arrive.

"Rafe," she gasps, and I can hear the surprise and excitement in her voice.

"Hey, pretty girl," I drawl as I step forward. To my surprise, she buries herself in my arms, her muscles softening by the second. She breathes gently against my chest, her head pressed against my heart.

I bite my lips and look up to the ceiling, trying to keep the tears in my eyes before looking down at her again, pressing a kiss on her head.

“I didn’t think you’d come,” she says softly, and a wave of guilt rolls over me as I hear in her voice just how much that thought hurt her and how much she wanted me here.

She steps away, and I extend the roses toward her. "I wouldn’t miss this for the world, baby,” I whisper.

After we both stroll silently back to her apartment; the city lights glowing softly, making the falling snow look like glitter in the sky. She holds my hand tight, wrapping her other hand around my arm, tilting her head on me, and for the first time in days, I feel like I can take a full breath.

"Sweetheart,” I whisper, my voice weak and hoarse with emotion. She looks up at me, lips drawing to the side, already knowing what I’ll say, but she deserves to hear it. “I'm sorry," I say finally, speaking the words I should have said days ago.

“I’m sorry too,” she breathes, and I can hear the tears in her voice.

I stop and turn toward her, taking both her hands in mine. Leaning in, pressing my lips against her forehead, lingering while I listen to hear measured breaths and the city bustles around us.

“You’re amazing, you know that,” I hum.

She takes in my words, a gentle smile spreading on her lips. “Thank you, baby,” she whispers.

“I’m sorry I tried to take that away from you…”

“You’re alright… You just want us to be together, Rafe.”

"I do, baby— I do wanna be with you…”

I step a little closer, and she rests her head against me like before. My arms wrap around her waist and I know I made the right choice.

I've been thinkin’," I say. "In a few months, I’m getting my promotion… There are some jobs on the East Coast, but there’s this one ROTC spot at NYU that really caught my eye.”

“Really,” she asks weakly, not even holding her tears back anymore.

"Mhmm…” I hum. “I'm done askin’ you to give up your dreams, baby. If you wait a little longer, I'll come to you. Alright?”

She throws her arms around me, and I lift her off her feet, holding her close. “I love you, baby,” she whimpers, her voice muffled against my skin as her tears wet my neck—hitting the cold, winter wind.

“I love you too.”

"You haven't asked me today, Rafe," she says as she presses her chilly nose against my cheek.

“What, baby?” I laugh lightly, feeding off her joy.

“To marry you,” she whispers, and my heart flutters in my chest.

"Are you finally ready to say ‘yes’?" I whisper back.

“Yes… Of course, I am.”

I set her down on her feet and smile as I reach into my breast pocket, pulling out my mom’s ring. Her eyes widen on mine as she hides her smile with her wool mitten, those same tears sparkling on her waterline.

“Will you marry me, princess?”

tags: @rafesthroatbaby @bloodibambiidoll @kisses4angels @watchmerora @buckybarnessweetheart @anamiad00msday @littlelamy @namelesslosers @cades-outsider @romaescapes @starkeysprincess @oxpogues4lifexo @unrealmirrorball @sleepiibunniiii @gri959 @rafesgiirl @daryldixon83 @akobx @hyperfixationgirl @lhhlver @rrafeswhore @slut-4-gojo @blair-bears-blog @loveesiren @cameronwillow @rafegf-real @starkeyvhs

[rotteneldritchhorror]

somehow barry survives on like 5-6 hours of sleep cause hes always the last to go to sleep and the first to wake up

[small-spark-of-light]

heres some thoughts on Infectat from evadare!! i dont think he can talk, so he uses sign language :0

[rafegf-real]

I LOVE MILITARY RAFECECE

🂱 military!rafe x wife!reader

༄ summary: rafe comes home to his pregnant wife

rafe’s boots hit the familiar soil of the outer banks with a feeling he hadn’t known in months: relief. the heavy weight of military life, the endless days in foreign lands, the absence from the one person who kept him grounded—all of it was behind him. he was home.

but the homecoming was different this time. this time, it wasn’t just about reuniting with his wife. this time, it was about becoming a father.

months ago, before his deployment, his wife had sent him a simple polaroid—her standing in their living room with her hands resting on her stomach. a soft smile on her lips, the hint of something unspoken in her eyes. On the back, the words were scrawled in her handwriting: i’m pregnant, rafe. we’re going to be parents.

he’d stared at that photo more times than he could count during his time away. the thought of her, of the baby growing inside her, had been the thing that pulled him through. the unknowns terrified him. he hadn’t expected to become a father so soon. but with every passing day, that fear turned into a steady resolve. He would be there. for her. for the child.

now, standing at the gate, his heart thundered in his chest as he searched the crowd of families and friends. and then, just like that, his eyes locked onto hers.

she was standing near the front, her hand resting gently on her round belly, her hair loose around her shoulders. she was glowing in a way that made Rafe’s breath catch in his throat. it wasn’t just the pregnancy—it was the way she looked at him like he was everything she’d been waiting for.

he stepped forward, his legs carrying him faster than his mind could process. when she saw him, her face lit up in an instant, her lips curving into a smile that sent a rush of warmth through him.

“rafe,” she whispered, her voice breaking, as if the words hadn’t quite caught up with her emotions.

he didn’t say anything in return. he didn’t need to. In two long strides, he pulled her into his arms, holding her like he’d been starved for this moment.

“i missed you so damn much,” he murmured into her hair, his voice low and raw.

“i missed you too,” she whispered, tightening her arms around him, her hands finding their way to his chest.

but there was more she wanted to say. he could feel it in the way she held him a little tighter, the way her breath hitched in her chest.

rafe pulled back slightly, his hands cradling her face as he looked at her with a mixture of love and wonder. he could see it now—the small but undeniable curve of her belly under the soft fabric of her dress.

she smiled at him softly, her eyes full of warmth. “five months,” she said quietly, her hand resting over his, guiding it gently to her stomach. “we’re halfway there, rafe.”

rafe’s heart skipped a beat. he knew, of course. the polaroid had told him, and every letter, every text had confirmed it. but hearing her say it—seeing her, feeling her, seeing the life growing inside her—it was like the weight of the world had just shifted.

he placed his hand on her belly, his fingers brushing against the fabric of her dress. there, beneath his touch, was something that belonged to both of them��something they’d created together. the reality hit him all over again. “a baby,” he whispered, a smile slowly spreading across his face. “our baby.”

her smile deepened, her eyes gleaming with a mix of joy and nervous excitement. “yeah, ours. can you believe it?”

rafe laughed softly, the sound filled with disbelief and awe. “honestly? no. but i’m ready, more than ready.”

he pulled her close again, this time holding her even tighter, as if he could somehow anchor himself in this moment. “i’m not going anywhere, you know that, right? i’m here. for you. for us.”

“i know,” she whispered back, pressing her cheek to his chest. “i’ve always known.”

rafe gently cupped her face and kissed her forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment. It was the kiss of a promise, a promise that no matter how scared or unsure he might have been before, he wasn’t running away from this. from her. from the future they were about to build together.

“i’ve been carrying this around with me,” he said quietly, reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out the polaroid she had sent him. he held it up between them, his fingers tracing the edges.

she laughed softly, her eyes misting over. “i was hoping you’d keep it.”

“i couldn’t let it go,” rafe replied, his voice thick with emotion. “i kept it with me every damn day. it was the only thing that kept me going, knowing that when I came home, i’d have this.”

his hand moved back to her belly, his thumb gently rubbing the spot where their baby was. “this is real. we’re really doing this.”

she nodded, her voice filled with emotion as she met his gaze. “we’re really doing this. together.”

“i love you,” he said simply, his voice soft but full of conviction.

“i love you, too,” she replied, her smile only growing.

and as they stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, rafe knew that he had everything he ever needed right here. with her. with their baby. and for the first time in a long time, he wasn’t afraid of the future. because with her by his side, he was ready for whatever came next.

[alanisinstone]

okay bluecollar!rafe but yall. can we make it MARINE!RAFE?? or more specifically MARSOC!rafe* who works for ward at cameron construction co. on leave?? like hello i need him bad guys.

cw: MDNI smut, cursing, stuff in public, food play, cum eating, military stuff, ass play, manhandling, 1 mention of fighting, recording

*marsoc: Marine Forces Special Operations Command - basically what COD men do

like he starts off as a standard private officer after enlisting when you guys graduate high school. he works his way up from private to corporal to sergeant major, and then eventually to captain, colonel, then general. i mean hes fucking unstoppable, hes blowing thru these ranks like nobodys fuckin business, and he not stopping anytime soon baby he in his primeeee.

he moves on to MARSOC and leads a small team on SPEC-OP missions in like borneo. hes literally the best of the best. his full file is like 4 pounds, full of successful recon missions, confirmed kills, successful captures of enemy targets, accurate tracking efforts, successful counterterrorism efforts, successful hostage rescue and successful direct action raids. when theres a REAL threat? they call LT Cameron. callsign? RAIDER

NOW. when baby comes home on leave he works at the family construction company ward owns, building giant beach houses for rich kooks. he eventually inherits cameron construction when ward gets too old to work and he helps ward retire bcs of the cash from being the most elite soldier in the US military. bae is tannnn bcs of construction work ofc, but also since being in the military he likes to go on runs and be in nature to clear his head. and yall alr know hes yatteddddd, both sleeves done by his boy at home on the cut, who happens to be a very talented tattoo artist (barry...)

strictly keeps a buzz for deployment but will grow out a mullet when hes home. signature gold chain is always on, and has a tat on his ring finger for you and maybe one on his forearm. does he have both ears pierced with fake diamond studs in? yes.

is currently in the blueprint stage for a beach house he wants to build you on figure 8 (and one in florida... and will probably start planning another one if he ends up having a long ship-out next deployment) even tho he despises rich fucks and is suchhhh a country boy. i mean hes like pogue!rafe but hes more of a mudding, dirt biking, bonfire, shotgunning beer, lifted truck, bar hop, football game kind of guy. and the most elite soldier in the US military ofc.

takes you on stargazing dates and fucks you in the truck bed, a big beach towel set down and his head in your neck while he ruts into you short and fast. occasionally gets into bar fights when some dick is tryna say sum to u. is such an ass man and will smack and grope that shit wheneverrrr whereverrrr - has zoned out of convos with people while feelin HIS booty up + loves to grip your pussy with his big ass paw when no one is looking.

has a super firm grip due to years of being a marine and WILL manhandle ur ass around - into various positions, onto the bed or couch or counter or etc., up over his shoulder when you gettin on his nerves. gets actually animalistic when yall fuckin, and yk that boy a munch. growls and grunts sooo loud the whole time.

will take you to the dock and fuck you on the family fishing boat. will christen any new bar yall go to by fucking you in the gross bathroom and carving both your initials in the wall with his pocket knife that ward gave him when he was 15. is kinky af but lets u bring it up bcs he feels awkward talking about it. is sooooo nasty - will eat his cum out of you with his whole mouth, eyes locked on yours, sucking your lips into his mouth. then, when it’s not enough, he drags you up to sit on his face and rubs your clit, watching you clench and letting his cum drip from you right onto his tongue.

will stick a thumb in your ass during doggy, while reaching for his phone bcs the way u throwin that ass back on him? yall bout to make another movie. loves watching you clean him up after round 5, when his dick is covered in his and your cum - will not let you miss a spot, even where it dripped down over his hefty balls to his ass. and he rarely shaves - uncut.

if it’s a hot day, he’ll turn the ac off and find you so he can lick the sweat off every crevice of your beautiful body while he’s fucking you over the counter. both of you completely butt naked bcs it’s hot. has a sweet tooth - will interrupt you while you’re baking and strip you, laying you on the counter like the dessert you are and eating the frosting off his favorite parts. get especially excited when it comes to sweets on your nipples.

honestly if that aint a FEASTTTT i dont know what issss

[itneverendshere]

INVISIBLE STRING - r.c series (seven)

pairing: pogue!rafe x sweetheart!kook reader. chapter warnings: angst; mentions of domestic violence; unhealthy relationships;

For the first time in years, you wake up peacefully. 

No racing heart, no threats lurking behind your closed eyes.

Just... calm. The type of quiet that lets you sink into the warmth of the blankets without a single worry. You’re so cozy, so perfectly at ease, you almost forget where you are and what led you here.

For a blissful moment, all you know is stillness. But then it hits you—this isn't your bed. No footsteps are stomping down the hall, no harsh voices insulting you through your morning peace. 

You blink your eyes open, and it’s a simple little room. Not much here but a heavy old quilt over you, a plain dresser, a lamp that looks like it's been there forever. A small window where the sun is streaming in, bathing everything in a golden glow. 

It’s almost funny, you realize with a little smile. You ran as far as you could, with no real plan except to escape, and somehow, by some twist of fate, you ended up here.

And then you remember why it feels so familiar. 

It’s Rafe’s. 

Your heart flutters around like it’s waking up for the first time in a while, too. You found him—or maybe he found you. After all those years of wondering what happened to him, your first love, the boy with grease-stained hands and the brightest smile was back.

He still looked at you like he cared, that was a given after what he did for you yesterday, between taking you to the hospital and offering you a place to stay, as if the years hadn’t put a single dent in the way he used to see you.

You’d half-expected him to just...look through you like you were a stranger. But Rafe—well, he’d always been different, hadn't he?

You let out a small, relieved sigh and curl up a little tighter under the quilt, sinking deeper into it, because today, you don’t have to run.

Back then, everything about Rafe felt like some secret only you were lucky enough to know. The scrapes on his knuckles, the stains that never really washed off his clothes, the way he’d sneak you out to the pier after dark to talk under the stars like you were the only two people on earth.

The entire world disappeared when you were with him—the line between Kook and Pogue didn’t mean a thing.

You remember his laugh, this loud carefree sound that would just bubble up, surprising even him. He’d make fun of how out of place you looked on the back of his old bike, but then he’d smile in this crooked, lovestruck way and kiss you so hard it didn’t matter. 

God, you were in so deep, and you didn’t care. All you knew was that he was yours, and you were his, and nothing else could touch that.

Your mind is a mess of memories, all those nights you used to slip out to meet him, sneaking around with this thrill in your chest, like you were getting away with something impossible. 

It all changed so fast.

One night, he was there, laughing with you in bed and calling you "princess" in that teasing way only he could get away with. The next, he was gone. You had no warning, no explanation—just this space where he used to be. Your parents finally admitted what they'd done, talking about him like he was a problem they’d finally got to fix. They had tried to break him, ship him off to some military school hours away, like he was just… trash.

But Rafe had always been too smart for them. He ran instead, left everything he knew behind, including you, before anyone could try to cage him. You didn’t understand it fully at first. You couldn’t.

Before college started, you’d waited at all your old spots, hoping he’d show up, that he’d come to you in the middle of the night, even if it meant climbing in through your bedroom window just to say goodbye.

But he never did, when the days turned into weeks, then months, you realized he’d left for good.

You never let him go, not really.

While everyone else told you to move on, you dug in. You spent so much, countless weekends sneaking off with the cash you'd save, paying people in shady corners of town, anyone who might know where he’d gone. You chased whispers and rumors and stray leads, but none of them ever led you to him. You used to lie awake at night praying he was okay, safe, wondering if he was ever thinking of you the way you still thought of him every single day.

You can’t shake the déjà vu now, lying here in his bed, realizing that somehow, by some freak chance, the universe led you back to him.

You think about yesterday, the look on his face when he saw you in his shop, like he couldn’t believe it was real either. He’d dropped everything, no hesitation. 

You call back to those years without him— you’d try to keep going, but every day was like you were carrying a dead weight no one else could see. Nights were the worst. 

You’d lie in bed, staring up at the ceiling, replaying all those stolen moments with him, pieces of a dream you were desperate not to forget. It was like trying to hold water in your hands; no matter how hard you tried, bits of him kept slipping through, fading with time, until you started to wonder if maybe you’d imagined how it felt to be that close to someone.

And God, you tried to let go, eventually.

You told yourself over and over, it was time to stop chasing after someone who’d left without a goodbye, who didn't want to be found.

You even went on dates, pretended you could replace him, like it would be so easy to “find someone else.” But no one else ever remotely compared to him.

No one else ever made you feel seen like that. 

Certainly not Frederic and it's like a stab to your heart to even think about it now.

You’d never planned to be with someone like him. He was handsome, polite when you met him; everyone around you liked him, and your parents might as well have handed you over to him in a silver platter the second he moved to town.

They’d called it “the perfect match”—his family’s money, your family’s reputation. They belived it would keep you distracted, and finally help you forget the boy they’d done everything to erase from your life.

You went along with it.

What choice did you really have? Rafe had been gone for almost three years, and you were supposed to move on, fit into this life they wanted for you. So you played along, smiled through dinner parties and gatherings, told yourself you could settle for this.

He wasn’t cruel, not in the beginning, just possessive. You’d told yourself it was almost flattering, that it meant he cared about you, wanted you to be his in some way.

Until the day he found that old picture, the one you’d kept hidden away in your wallet all those years.

That’s when everything changed and he never looked at you the same after that. Suddenly, each glance, every small thing you did, the little freedom you had was a threat to him. You weren’t allowed to go out without him or talk to anyone he didn’t approve of.

He made you feel like you were nothing but his property, something he could control and shape into whatever he wanted. He tore apart the dainty pieces of your younger self you’d managed to keep, as if any proof of the life you’d had with Rafe was something he needed to crush with his bare hands.

After a while, he didn’t even attempt to hide the anger.

The first time he hit you, you’d been shocked, unable to believe it was happening. He apologized right after, swore it would never happen again, but you knew. 

It was only the beginning.

From that day on, you lived in fear, knowing that any misstep could set him off, that each move you made was a risk. You learned to stay quiet, to keep your head down, to shrink yourself into a pet that wouldn’t provoke him.

Nothing was ever enough.

He’d pick fights out of nowhere, accuse you of things that didn’t make sense, twist everything around until you couldn’t tell what was real anymore. But you kept that picture.

Even after everything, he’d broken down every bit of strength you had, but you wouldn’t let it go. It was the only piece of Rafe you had, it didn’t matter that it was just a scrap. When Frederic was away doing business, late at night, you’d pull it out and stare at it, trace the edges of Rafe’s smile with your thumb, wishing you’d get to live something as beautiful again.

You’d almost forgotten was being okay felt like, to be somewhere you weren’t afraid to breathe too loud.

You sit up slowly, the quilt sliding off your shoulders as you stretch your arms overhead, your stomach is already growling with anticipation.

Swinging your legs over the side of the bed, you take a micro second to breathe in the peaceful quiet around you, then, you shuffle to the kitchen, still half wondering if it’s happening, if Rafe is really back in your life after all this time. 

As you enter the kitchen, your heart does a little leap at the sight before you. There, resting on the table is a plate piled high with pancakes, golden and fluffy, topped with a pat of melting butter and a drizzle of syrup.

It looks so delicious and so… thoughtful. It’s the kind of breakfast you’d imagined when you were younger, that felt like love poured into every bite. Next to the plate, there’s a note, scribbled in Rafe’s familiar handwriting, the same jagged loops and curls that make you smile like you’re seventeen again.

You pick it up, your fingers brushing over the paper as you read, “had to run to the shop, didn’t want you to wake up hungry. eat these and don't save some for me, okay?”. You tuck the note into your pocket, almost like a talisman, and turn your attention back to the pancakes.

You settle at the table, the chair creaking beneath you, and pick up a fork. The first bite is like heaven—soft and sweet, the syrup running down your chin as you take a big mouthful.

You can’t stop the giggles, remembering those late-night snacks where you’d sneak with him, trying to be quiet so no one would hear. 

He always ended up with more syrup on him than in the bowl.

As you devour the breakfast he made, you envision how he must have stood there in the kitchen, mixing the batter and flipping.

It's fun to picture him humming to himself, the light from the window hitting his dark blonde hair just right, making him look like some sort of guardian angel. The thought sends butterflies fluttering through your body, and after years in the dark, you feel light.

After finishing the last bite you can’t help but smile at the empty plate in front of you. Rafe really outdid himself. You feel a little giddy, a warmth spreading through you that has nothing to do with the syrup or the comfort of the food. 

With a little bounce in your step, you push back the chair and head to the sink, rinsing off the plate. You look around the cozy kitchen, taking in the mismatched mugs and the old-fashioned fridge that looks like it’s seen a hundred breakfasts. It feels lived-in and warm, like a home should, despite not being full.

You can picture Rafe here, maybe making his disgusting black coffee, playing music while he reads. You’d love to share that with him, even if it sounds silly.

You wander to the window above the sink, pull back the curtain and peek out.

Outside, the engine noises and clanking tools are a little noisy but better than the yelling you’re used to. You can see him moving around, his familiar silhouette bent over the engine of a car, grease smudged across his forearms, the sun glinting off his skin.

You’re chewing your lip to death while you admire him like he's the last man on earth. Rafe is dressed in a snug white tank top that hugs his muscular frame, the fabric slightly worn and smudged with grease from a long morning in the shop, showcasing his broad shoulders and the beefy muscles of his biceps.

His arms are covered in a light sheen of oil, making him appear even more rugged and, honestly, a little bit scrumptious. He looks so effortlessly beautiful even in the middle of a workday.

His hair is tousled, falling in soft, messy waves that occasionally cover his eyes, and you find yourself wanting to reach up and push it back just so you can see his gorgeous blue eyes fully. 

This is what you’d dreamed about, all those nights, clutching that tiny picture of him to your chest. Just seeing him like this, working hard like he used to be when you’d sneak out to find him.

You feel bad though.

He’d stayed up late with you, sat with you for hours, listening as you poured everything out, even as you broke down, sobbing so hard you couldn’t breathe. He held you until you fell asleep in his lap, his arms wrapped around you. And now, here he is, working already, probably exhausted after getting barely any rest.

You move back to his bedroom, scolding yourself for wanting to go out there and warn him to take it easy, but you know him.

He wouldn’t listen. 

And maybe a part of you doesn’t want him to, either, because having him there all night, knowing he was close by, made you feel content.

Rafe never did anything halfway, did he? Even back then, he was so… him, so all-in, with that devotion that used to leave you breathless and a little woozy.

Years later, he’s still giving everything he has to make sure you’re okay, he hasn’t changed at all in the ways that matter.

You close your eyes for a moment, just to savor it, to commit this peace to memory in case you need it again someday. You’re not naïve; you know there are things to figure out, talks that need to happen, but he didn’t leave this time, didn’t slip away in the middle of the night, no hidden messages or unspoken goodbyes. 

He’s right here, where you can see him. 

You're still lost in thought, when you hear the front door open.

You sit up, smoothing out your hair and trying not to seem as flustered as you feel.

Footsteps come down the hall, until Rafe appears in the doorway, leaning on the doorframe, one hand braced above his head, looking at you with this little smirk that’s shier than he’d probably ever admit.

There’s a smear of grease on his jaw, and his tank top’s even dirtier than before, he’s been deep in a car engine for hours already.

“Hey,” he says, his voice rough, that southern drawl warming you to your toes. “Just came in to, uh… check on ya. Make sure you ate and all.” He nods toward the kitchen, rubbing the back of his neck like he’s not sure what to do with his hands. His eyes move to the empty plate on the table, and he lets out a tiny chuckle. “Guess ya did.”

You can’t help but smile back, a little nervous, and shy. There’s this energy between you—it feels like you’re both walking on eggshells, not quite sure how to talk to each other now that the cards are all on the table. 

“Yeah,” you nod softly, clutching the quilt closer. “They were perfect. Thank you.”

He clears his throat, color creeping up his neck as he shrugs. He looks at you like he’s trying to understand every part of you that’s been ripped apart, searching for the pieces of the girl he used to know, while still seeing the woman you’ve become.

Rafe shuffles his feet, his hand drifting to rub the back of his neck, “Sorry, I should probably clean up,” he mutters, glancing down at his hands. “Lookin’ like a damn grease monkey in here.”

You laugh, and the sound seems to surprise him, making him look up with this sheepish grin that’s just so… him. For a second, no time has passed at all, you’re both still seventeen and completely caught up in each other.

Rafe’s gaze lands on the spot where the blanket’s slipped, showing a faint bruise along your collarbone. His muscles tighten just slightly, and he exhales as he asks, “You feelin’ any better?”

You nod, but he’s already moving closer, crouching down so he’s at eye level, his expression creased with worry. He reaches out to touch you, then pulls his hand back, second-guessing himself.

“They, uh… they still hurt?” He nods toward the bruises, his eyes darting over them with a pained look, like he feels every mark himself. He starts rambling, “I got some ice packs in the freezer if you need ’em or I could go grab one of those heat pads, I dunno which one’s better, but we can try both if you need. I don’t want you just sittin’ here hurtin’.” He gestures vaguely, tracing every inch of your body with this helpless, guilty look, because if he could take them on himself, he would.

“And, uh… I mean, if you’re achin’ at all, I got some Tylenol in the cabinet—not the strongest stuff, but it might help a little. Or if you need anything else, I can just run out and grab it.” His gaze darts back to your face, and he adds quickly, “Only if you want, though! I know you’re… you’re strong and all, but don’t mean you gotta sit there and hurt, alright?”

You can't stop smiling, watching him try to take care of you in his own awkward, fumbling way. His shoulders are all hunched up, his fingers fidgeting against his jeans, and there’s that endearing tint creeping up his neck again.

“Rafe…” you cut him off, and he stops mid-ramble, his mouth half-open, looking like he just got caught saying too much.

“Yeah?” he murmurs, his voice dropping, afraid he might’ve overstepped.

“I’m okay,” you assure him, reaching out to squeeze his hand.

His fingers curl around yours instantly, holding on like he needs the contact just as much as you do. It’s the smallest thing, just the press of his hand against yours, but after so long of being handled like broken porcelain, it’s overwhelming.

“Really, and I’m—I’m sorry I dumped all of that on you yesterday.”

You hadn’t planned on telling him every detail of your personal hell, but he made it so easy.

You were never the best at thinking while under that gaze, it’s wrapped in old memories and hope, and it scares you just as much as it soothes you. He’s close, the scent of his aftershave and engine grease making you feel dizzy with the memory of each kiss, whisper, every reckless promise you’d both made once upon a time.

Rafe sequeezes your hand tighter, thumb grazing your knuckles. 

"Don’t be sorry. Not for that.” It’s so like him, and it nearly breaks you right there. All that quiet loyalty, he doesn’t even know how much he’s giving, he thinks you deserve all of it without question. “You don’t have to go back, y’know. Not if you don’t want to.”

This is real, and he’s right here, asking you to let him in, to let him be the one who pulls you from the darkness. The hardest part is, you know he would.

He’d fight the whole world if he thought it would keep you safe, if it meant you could stay. It’s terrifying, to even hope that you could have this, have him. 

You cover your mouth, maybe if you squeeze hard enough, you can hold it in, but a choked sob escapes anyway, desperate, in a way that embarrasses you. Your shoulders start to shake, and the tears just keep coming, slipping down your jaw and dripping onto your sweater, his.

You try to wipe them away with the back of your hand, but they keep coming, your breaths are turning into these broken gasps that make you feel exposed.

Rafe’s moving without a word, sitting on the edge of the bed and gently pulling you into his lap like he had last night. He wraps his arms around you, careful not to hurt you, and you let yourself fold into him, leaning against his chest, the most familiar place in the world.

He tucks your head under his chin, his fingers cradling the back of your neck, and as your tears soak into his shirt, he leans down, whispering, his breath warm against your forehead.

 “I got you. ‘m right here. Ain’t lettin’ go of you.”

He doesn’t flinch; doesn’t make you feel ashamed for being so sensitive. 

Instead, he brushes his hand up and down your back, whispering quiet reassurances, giving you all the time in the world. He waits until your sobs taper off, left with only the shudders and hiccupping breaths, and even then, he just sits there quietly, letting you be. 

Then, almost like he’s talking to himself, he starts,“So… y’know, been kind of busy these past few years,” he says, glancing away like he’s embarrassed. “Kept up with a lot of late nights in the shop. Got good at fixing engines—real good, actually. Think I could probably fix just about anything, even if it’s been beat up and run-down more times than you’d think possible.”

Rafe’s fingers trace along your arm as he talks, and you know why he’s doing this. He’s looking toward the window, most likely remembering each late night he’s spent there alone.

“Didn’t make much of it at first—just me and Jerry. But folks kept comin’ in, one by one, and eventually, we hired a few guys to help out.” He pauses, swallowing, “Guess it’s sort of a thing now.”

You feel your lips tug up and he must notice because his grip on you relaxes, and he lets out this almost bashful chuckle.

“Got a dog, too,” he continues, scratching the back of his neck like he’s telling you something ridiculous. “Well, he just kinda showed up one day at the shop, but he kept stickin’ around, so I named him Ace. Big, goofy mutt—probably not as tough as he thinks, but he likes to act like he’s protecting the place.” He shakes his head, “You’d like him, I think. He’d probably love you more than he loves me the second you showed up, little traitor. He sleeps downstairs."

“But y’know, no matter how busy it got, or how many things kept changin’… didn’t really feel like home.” He pauses, his hand moving to brush away a stray tear that’s found its way down your cheek, “I thought maybe if I just kept busy enough, I’d stop thinkin’ ‘bout you. Thought it’d get easier with time. But…” He trails off, like he’s confessing a secret. “Turns out it didn’t. No matter where I went, or what I did, it was always just there. Missin’ you.”

You can feel the soft rasp of his thumb against your neck, “I’m sorry.”

“Hey now,” he clicks his tongue, tipping your chin up with a knuckle until your eyes meet his, blue eyes looking at you with a tenderness that almost makes you bawl again. “None of that. I told you, you got nothin’ to be sorry for.” His gaze sweeps across your features, “You been through hell and back. I know that ain’t easy to walk away from, not like that.”

His thumb brushes a tear from your cheek while you ask him, “What if he… what if he finds me?” 

Rafe’s jaw tightens, and there it is—that old, familiar fire lighting up in his eyes. It’s the same look he’d get any time someone even thought about hurting you, he’d rather throw himself in front of a train than let anything happen to you. 

“He’s never gonna touch you again, okay? Not as long as I’m around.” His voice is almost a growl, fierce enough that makes you believe him. “I won’t let him, I swear it.”

You can’t even speak. Your heart feels so full of gratitude, but you manage to force out a, “Thank you, Rafe.”

He pulls the hair back from your face, “You don’t gotta thank me,” he murmurs, “All I ever wanted was for you to be okay. That’s enough for me.”

You look up at him, fingers sweeping against his skin as you ask, “Tell me more? About everything? I feel like I missed so much…”

You attempt to keep your voice from quivering, but there’s this misery in your chest, a deep longing to know the parts of him you hadn’t been there to witness. You tilt your head, waiting for him to continue, and then he looks down, being reluctant.

“Yeah, uh… there was one time I went to your university,” he confesses, the words coming out hushed, he’s scared he shouldn’t be admitting this. “It was years ago, but… yeah. I went up there to see you.”

Your eyes widen, “What?” The word slips out in disbelief, and you lean in, “When? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I don’t know what I was thinkin’. I just… I wanted to see you. Thought maybe I could run into you, or—” He pauses, looking down at his hands. “Maybe I was hopin’ I’d have the guts to actually talk to you. 

Your brain can’t help but conjure up, what it might’ve happened if he’d just walked across campus that day, to you. The two of you in that place.

You picture yourself, sitting on one of those worn benches under the big oak trees that dotted the quad, maybe with a book open on your lap that you weren’t really reading, because all you could think about was him. It wouldn’t have taken much—the way his heavy boots hit the ground, the scent of his cologne. Would you have jumped up and hugged him? Or would you have sat there, staring at him, wondering if you were somehow dreaming it all up?

It’s a fantasy, you know that, but deep down, you wish that had been your reality—the two of you fighting for each other instead of letting the world and distance pull you apart. It hurts like a bitch, thinking of all those lost years, all the things that could’ve been different if you’d both just been a little braver.

“Rafe…” you breath, and there’s so much tangled in that one word.

The years, the heartbreak, the distance—you don’t even know where to begin, and yet, you don’t need to. He looks at you as if he understands every unspoken word like he’s been waiting just as long.

“I didn’t see you.”

“Hey,” he coos, pulling you just a little closer, his breath warm against your cheek. “It’s my fault, I was scared.”

You smile through the fresh tears gathering and he slants his forehead against yours, brushing one away with his thumb, his face close enough that you could count each freckle if you wanted.

“It’s okay."

“I missed you, so much.”

You hadn’t just missed him—you’d missed the way he made you feel.

Brave. Free. No matter what happened, it would be okay as long as he was by your side. He smiles, a little crooked like because he’s not used to hearing it, he feels like the lucky one here.

 “You’ve always been my girl, y’know that? Ain’t nothing gonna change that. Not then, not now, not ever.”

Rafe’s slowly stitching up something inside you didn’t even know was still bleeding. You wonder if he knows that you're still shattered, that you’re not sure how to feel whole again, but you want to try, for him.

The way he talks tells you that he still can see you as the girl he fell in love with and it makes you hopeful that maybe she’s still somewhere inside you, waiting to be found.

Does he feel the same? Does he mean it, all this talk of missing you, of always coming back to you? Or is he just being kind, because he thinks you need to be treated like a wounded animal?

He’s got his own scars, things he’s carried, and he’s been hiding them just as much as you’ve been hiding yours. 

You wonder what he’s not saying, if he’s afraid of hoping for too much, like you are. Perhaps he’s holding you like this because he’s still holding on to that invisible string that’s kept you tied to him all this time. 

You close your eyes and rest your head against his shoulder, letting yourself breathe him in, feel him under your fingertips.

His lips pucker against your temple, “Don’t overthink, sweetheart. We’ll figure it out.”

But realistically speaking, how long can you run for before the monsters in your nightmares catch up to you?

[fictionalmenxyn]

𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐋𝐚𝐝𝐲

Pairing: dealer!rafe x reader

Warnings: mentions of drugs (weed, molly and vaping), language, pda

꧁꧂

It was thriving, Topper once again throwing another banger of a party. It was living it up in his family’s home. The lights, the music the overall vibe. The boys and you all agreed that this summer would be like no other. Living this summer like it’s your last.

You wore your favourite black tube top with your white halter top underneath along with your short white tube skirt and a pair of military black Jordan 4s. Along with some jewellery. Looking like the perfect girl in the world tonight. Well, to Rafe anyways.

You thrived, this was your element. While you danced with your friends. Rafe sat with Topper and Kelce. Towards the backyard on those outdoor couches.

Rafe could see you through the crowd. To him you were like a beacon of light. Your presence brining out a side of him he’d never get with anyone else.

He and the guys have done a few deals through the night. Making bank as they usually did.

You walked over to the guys after having just refilled your drink. You called out “hey guys!” The boys let out a low whistle. Rafe grinned, moving his hand to your hips as you stood between his legs. He looked up at you “how’re you doing, pretty?” You smiled and nodded “good, good… how’s the dealing?” Topper added “alright, bit as much as we th-”

You stuck your hand out to Rafe “hand some over, I’ll help ya out.” You sipped out of your red solo cup. Rafe grinned and the other two widen their eyes. Kelce said “nah we can’t get you to deal…” you shrugged “it’s fine, I can do it.” Rafe looked up at you. “Make sure you come straight back here, yeah? And if anyone gives you shit call me, got it?”

You nod, as he reached into his backpack he had on the ground next to the couch. He pulled out a couple bags of weed and molly. Rafe added “oh and if anyone wants vapes, tell them to come to the backyard and look for us.” You nodded.

Leaning down you pecked Rafe’s lips. Putting the weed and molly packets into your handbag. As you turn around to walk off, Rafe smacks your ass. You roll your eyes at his usual action.

Later on in the night you return. Walking over. Topper noticed you first “how’d it go?”

You grinned both evilly and proudly. You opened your handbag, taking your vape and phone out first. You put that on the couch next to Rafe. Then you tipped your handbag upside down and dump a load of cash onto Rafe’s lap.

Rafe’s eyes widen “fuck, doll, that’s a fuck ton of cash…” Rafe started to count the cash as you spoke “they gave me extra, I didn’t even ask, guess I’m just lucky.” You shrug casually.

Rafe looked up to you “you made three ‘kay?? I didn’t even give you that much stuff to sell…” Kelce lets out a low whistle “damn, maybe she is a good luck charm.”

You told Rafe “oh also I’m pretty sure I got you three some regular customers. I didn’t give them your actual contacts, so I gave them your number accounts on Snapchat, that okay?”

Rafe smirked, the other two nodded eagerly. Rafe put the money into elastic bands and put the cash into the backpack. He patted his lap “c’mere, babe.” You sat in his lap.

He gently grabbed your jaw, making you look at him. His other hand placed on your hip, lowly.

He smirked and moved so his lips were close to you. He praised “good job, baby, might have you do it more often. So proud, my little dealer.” He pecked your lips. He added “also got cherry papers and vape juice for my cherry lady.” He playfully winks at you as you thank him.

He kisses you, not giving a fuck who sees. At the end of the day he’d actually prefer that, showing that you’re his. His cherry lady.

As you two both kiss, Kelce joked “get a room you two.” Rafe didn’t even look in Kelce’s direction when he playfully flipped him off. Keeping his half-lidded eyes on you and your lips as he spoke to him “shut up, bro, go find a girl and get laid.” Rafe went straight back to kissing you.

Topper chuckles “dude you can’t keep your hands off of her.” Rafe pulled away but stayed close to your face. He side eyed Topper “dude, will you two quit complaining. Go catch a ride or some shit, let us be.” Rafe looked you up and down and whispered to you “look so good, ma, should take you home tonight… let you do what you want, hm? You’d like that, huh? You’ve been such a good girl f’me… helping me sell and shit…”

His hand on your hip moved to your ass, gently massaging it. You chuckle softly “oh yeah? You’d seriously let me do that?” He hummed “yeah, proud of ya, let you do whatever you want, you make it, you get it..”

Rafe pulled out his vape from his shorts pocket. Taking a hit and moving his lips near yours. Blowing the smoke into your mouth as you take it back. You then blow the smoke back out. Rafe loved doing that with you. Smoke kisses were one of his things that got him going. And knowing his girl who was the hottest person in his eyes could do such things with him? Made him weak to the core.

You move and whisper in his ear, knowing it would get him riled up. You whisper “wanna go now and I’ll show you?” He smirked and whispered back “yeah, fuck… god, wanna do so much to you. Let’s get outta here, hm?”

You nodded, standing up, Rafe stood after you. Tugging your skirt down a little as he noticed two guys looking at your ass. Topper playfully rolled his eyes and said sarcastically “bye then you two, leaving Kelce and I to go fuck… damn, what friend you two are.” You smirked. Looking over to Topper you said “Brooke is waiting for you upstairs, she told me to tell you.”

Topper’s eyes almost popped out of his hair “wait, for real???” You nodded “don’t keep her waiting. Topper practically leaped out of his seat and heading into the house. Just as he did that a girl approached Kelce.

So technically you two were ditching them. Rafe took your hand in his as he guided you through the crowded house and out to the front.

You were both in for a long night, a very very enjoyable one.

꧁꧂

(If u want for dealer!rafe, reqs are open)

[rafeandonlyrafe]

crybaby

words: 400

"what's got you crying?" rafe coos, incredibly used to the sight of you sitting on his bed, tears running down your cheeks.

it's not your fault you cry so much, you just can't help it. any sad movie has you weeping into rafes shoulder, making him forbid you from watching anything remotely upsetting when he's with you, hating to see you sad.

"good tears." you explain quickly, locking your phone and tossing it on the bed, holding your arms open for rafe.

he quickly steps into your hold, kissing your head as the last of your tears dry up.

you had to make the distinction every time between good tears and bad tears ever since your second month of dating, when rafe bought you a bouquet of flowers, and you sobbed on the spot.

"what's causing these good tears, sweetheart?" rafe is always extra careful and sweet with you, not wanting to set you off. you knew he could get angry and mean with others, but he never even thought about raising his voice when he was with you.

"military homecoming videos." you sniffle again, just thinking about it.

rafe let's out a chuckle, picking you up and sitting down, placing you in his lap. “those always make you cry, why were you watching them?”

“it just came up on my for you page!” you explain quickly, not wanting rafe to think that you were making yourself cry on purpose and seeking the videos out. 

“okay, baby.” rafe chuckles, hand rubbing up and down your back.

“i love you and i never want you to go away to war even if the homecoming would be very cute.” you ramble, grabbing rafes free hand and bringing it to your lips, pressing a few kisses to the old scars on the knuckles. “i would miss you too much.”

“i promise i will not go away to war.” rafe says quickly, not letting you spiral too much about the possibility of being away from him.

“what if you get drafted and have to-”

“shh, baby, that won’t happen.” rafe lays down on the bed, bringing you with him, hoping some cuddles will put your mind at ease.

“okay… i trust you.” you whisper, snuggling into his side and closing your eyes.

“what do you want to do with the rest of our night?” rafe asks, slipping a hand under your shirt so he can feel your bare skin.

“can we just stay in bed and cuddle?” you ask, trailing a finger up his chest, knowing exactly what cuddling is going to lead to.

“of course.” rafe kisses your forehead, pulling you in impossibly closer, not wanting a millimeter between your bodies.

“i love you.” you coo, sliding your leg over his hips as you get comfortable.

“i love you even more, my princess.” rafe says, but quickly regrets it as he hears you begin to sniffle again.

[lovlidollie]

exmilitary!rafe who makes you “thank him for his service” by making you do all sorts of unjust, fucked up shit just for his pleasure

[latteenightss]

Hii! Just another rant about obx. I wanna share my predictions about season 5 and what I think they’re gonna do

Chase Stokes (John B) mentioned that season 5 will be their best one, which it could be but I think for a lot of viewers just the fact that JJ won’t be there at all might ruin the season if yk what I mean.

And now to my predictions

1. I think season 5 will be Kiara’s season, with the way season 4 ended it’s obvious she’s gonna lash out and go through a lot. She’s gonna need to deal with grief and her revenge era might be a bit brutal 😊

Also maybe she will be somehow related to the treasure? Or just connected slightly. Like season 1 we had John B, season 2 it was Pope. Season 3 now- idk I guess Sarah but Kie also had a bigger role, like when that dude kidnapped her and then she got sent off to that camp but that’s it, then her plot line was about Jiara, and season 4 was obv JJ.

And since we’re talking about JJ, y’all.. ik it’s hard but he’s not coming back 😭 obx is not supernatural, a wish won’t bring him back to life. Like I don’t think JJ will crawl out of sand.

I generally love the idea of Kie finally having her main character moments and just making her more important to the story.

2. We will get Riara. And I definitely don’t mean that in a romantic way because that’s not happening! Madison (the actress of Kie) hates Riara 😭 but I think we will see them as duo and just get more of those tension scenes that we got so far. I feel like that might be a way the writers will try to “replace” Jiara. Jiara was a huge ad for the show and lately so has been Riara.

I feel like almost eveyone loves the tension between those two and the writers know that. Also Rafe breaking up with Sofia- yea they’re definitely building up to some sort of storyline with Kiara and Rafe. The amount of people obsessed with Riara is insane and obv they have to give us something so..

Riara s5 is pretty much guaranteed.

3. I wanna talk about Sarah and John B- obviously a huge plot line will be their child. I don’t know if the child will be born at the end or during season 5. How I see it, I’m leaning more toward the end but we’ll see.

There’s not much else that can really happen with them. John b will also be in a revenge era since his best friend was killed and Sarah will definitely get closer with Rafe, that hug they shared was so cute and needed but otherwise I really don’t know! I doubt they’ll kill them off. I was thinking that the way John B narrates obx maybe that’s him in the future telling his child about their story? That would make sense honestly.

4. Pope and Cleo umm so. I honestly am not as interested in their story line and it’s interesting because I have no idea what they will do with them.

I think Pope might be kind of more cold in season 5- as we know he shot a person right in the head, and he was so scared about that. Also he lost JJ- his best friend and they want to send him to the military. Dude is not doing the best! 💀

Cleo.. I don’t know she’s such a complicated character, she went through a lot in her life but I doubt they’ll really expand her character in season 5.

5. Rafe!!!! His character development this season was insane. In my opinion he should stick with the pogues but I wouldn’t be surprised if he somehow betrayed them. That’s Rafe- he’s not a good person but I wouldn’t say he’s necessarily bad..

Like I already said in obx 5 there will be Rafe and Kie duo, and more of Sarah and Rafe for sure. But maybe he will connect with the other pogues too.

I just don’t want the development to be thrown away, I hope they make him stick with the pogues.

6. And now finally the ending/possible deaths.

The characters who in my opinions are most in danger are: Kiara and Rafe

Especially Kiara.. here’s the thing, since JJ is dead and she already went through the whole group 😭 what can her ending actually be? Like ok she could just end up alone with her friends, her family but in my opinion her death would make sense. She would be with JJ and I think in general it is a good end for her.

Rafe like i mentioned is a complicated character, it would be so easy for the writers to just kill him off at the end. But I would be honestly so mad!!! Like no JJ and no Rafe 😭. Yeah I don’t want them to do that but at the same time, I think there’s definitely a possibility.

Sarah and John B definitely safe in my opinion.

Cleo and Pope- now I don’t know, I think they’re safe. Maybe Cleo.. but still I don’t think so.

Groff- definitely done for! ❤️ I hope Kiara tortures him to death 🥰

[rafeyscurtainbangs]

This isn’t something I think I could write but I think you’d EAT at this !! Military!Rafe and his lil long distance ballerina!girlfriend he’s constantly trying to get to marry him and come live on his base with him. They’ve been together for a few years and he got stationed in another state but she’s committed to her dance studio back home so she’s hesitant but he always keeps asking her like everyday and every time they talk😩😩

Ommmmgggggg because I know exactly how I would turn this into some Kinkmas fluffffff 😍😍😍😍💋♥️ this will happen one way or another 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ thanks for thinking of me bae

[princessbrunette]

s4ep6 and 7 spoilers below the cut ♡

why’s young luke kinda

idgaf that his names jackson he’ll always be jesse in my heart

john b is always crashing out over something no one else gaf about 😭

kiara looking good asf oh my

jj and kie r so unaffectionate i honest to god could never. would have my hands all over him whilst he’s talking idk

british auntoomfs accent is so bad that can’t be real surely

pope is so funny 😭😭😭😭😭😭

“rafe cameron, ceo” “ceo of what” ijbol

tired of pretending i don’t wanna fuck hollis

rafe getting mad he can’t talk to wheezie 🥺

ok like why is he punching the table don’t piss me off

rafe and sarah team up let’s gooooooo

omg jj we are in court. where is the decorum

CRASHOUT INCOMINGGGG

this scene is so good for outerbanks oh my god?????????

WAR PIGSSS????

oh jj you are going to JAILLLL 😭😭

the hand kiss on the mannequin. oh my hod.

this is so apocalypse!jj coded idk

kiara calling out to jj whilst he’s inside yeasys is giving TROYYYYYY right now i can hardly breathe OHHH U CAN DO IT JUST KNOW THAT I BELIEVE ….. 🎵

NOOOO POPEEEE

pope getting arrested for jj cos jj got arrested for pope :(

rafe not now.

oh rafe stand up for god sake

rafe always talking about “ill come after you…” and never does 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 that’s my man though.

one thing about jj he’s gonna be on a bridge in danger

jj is so smart n practical i love him

these delinquents really fucked up popes whole future man

yup pregnant sarah i knew it

this isn’t real. the real kiara wojld have said ABORTTTTT

not pope in the military?????????

pope and cleo post sex scene hello??????

groff you will pay.

john b throwing the molotov just in the air KEKDDKXKDKSK

john b so pathetic this season im cryingggg

jj u were born to be a pirate

[episodes-ff]

Line of Fire

**I listened to this song and immediately thought of these two. If it doesn’t play on here go listen first to set the mood then read**

Armando

Ever since our conversation about the future, Dee has been more adventurous in the bedroom. Now the sex has always been amazing but it’s like a spark lit from within her because now she wants to try more things, and who am I to say no to my princess? “Fuckkkkk, baby.” I groaned biting my lip intensely as she sucked on my neck and massaged my manhood under the sheets. “Mmmm, so big and strong for me.” She purred in my ear as my eyes rolled to the back of my head. “B-babygirl.” “Sí, papi?” She cooed in Spanish as I slowly lost it. “P-Please can I, ohhh fuck! Can I c-c-cum?” “Mmmm, not just yet.” She thought speeding up her strokes before removing her hand as I fought the urge to bend her over and punish her for playing so much. “W-when can I cum?” “Soon, baby, just enjoy the ride.” She whispered placing kisses on my torso and gripping my throat. Staring up at me with a devilish smirk, she winked at me before taking me into her mouth and sucking feverishly while choking me. “Ohhhhhhh shit!” I whimpered biting my knuckles as we tried not to wake AJ in the next room.

Sucking harder and deeper, I slipped more and more under her spell as she commenced to taking my soul. Feeling my release on the horizon, I weaved my hand into her luscious hair and began face fucking her. Taking me all in like a good girl, I lost my control more and more under her magnificent skills. “Fuck, baby, I’m bout to- ohhhhhhhh my godddd!” I panted as I shot my hot load down her throat. Swallowing it all, she wiped her mouth as I stared lovingly at the mess we made. “You look so fucking pretty, mi hermosa.” I simpered pulling her up to me and kissing her deeply. Wrapping my arms around her, I caressed her soft frame and admired all her sexy curves. “Mmmm, you’re just trying to get out of going to work.” She giggled softly pecking my lips as I squeezed and smacked her juicy ass. “Fuck, I don’t wanna go.” I pouted as she giggled and cooed. “Awww my baby. But you have to go. Who knows what adventures you might get into today?” “That’s the point. Only thing I’m tryna shoot today is my load.” I chuckled even though I wasn’t joking. I just wanted to be inside my woman expressing my love and care for her. “There’s always tonight, Daddy. Now get up, you’re gonna be late.” She smiled before crushing my dreams and walking her sexy ass into the bathroom.

Walking into headquarters, I said my daily greetings to the AMMO squad as I prepared a coffee to get my morning started. Having a seat, I placed my gun and holster on my desk before starting on my unfinished files and paperwork. “Hey, Armando? Who’s this new guy that’s supposed to be coming in today?” Dorn asked curiously from his area. “What new guy?” “You didn’t hear? Your dad and Rita were discussing some military transfer to come in. I didn’t catch his name but they say he’s a beast in the field.” “Interesting.” I chimed taking a sip and casting my gaze towards the front door as it opened. Watching Marcus come in first with three boxes of donuts, I scoffed before my focus turned to my father, Rita and who I’m assuming was the guy behind all the gossip.

“Good morning, squad! We have some exciting news for you all!” Rita started before passing the torch to Mike. “As some of you have probably heard, we have a new member coming to the team. Guys, this is Terry Richmond; he will be joining our tactical team and he will be helping shape our offensive skills when we’re in the field. Would you like to give us a few words about yourself, Terry?” “Nice to meet you guys. I am a former Marine. While on tour, I headed up M.C.M.A.P, that’s the Marine Corps Martial Arts Program.” “Wait, you’re kinda like a ninja, right?” Rafe chimed in stupidly. “You could say that.” He smirked in return as the room nodded in appreciation. “I can’t wait to see what I’m working with.” He added gazing upon the room before meeting eyes with me. “Aight, meeting adjourned.”

Terry

Getting settled in to my new position, I unpacked my personal items before setting up a couple pictures; one of me and my family as children, another of my beautiful wife, Anaya and our baby girl. Right on cue, my phone vibrated signaling a text from my blushing bride.

TeeBaby🌸💖💍: I hope you’re getting settled in and making some new connections, baby❤️ I’m so proud of you Big Daddy😘😘😘😘 I can’t wait for you to get home🫦👅

Biting my lip and thanking God for what a lucky man I was, I quickly replied back before hearing my name. “Hey, man, we about to go over some things real quick for today.” Marcus informed me as I nodded and headed out to the main floor.

“Ok crew, for today’s mission, we will be running surveillance on a drug operation on the coast.” Mike explained as we nodded in understanding. “Now this is supposed to be a non lethal mission, you guys. Do I make myself clear?” Rita asked as we cased our eyes toward Mike and Marcus. “What?!” “See how they be doing us, man?! Straight racial! That’s racial right there!” Marcus exclaimed as we shared a laugh. “Are we clear you guys?” “Yea we copy, Rita.” “Good, we need this to go as smoothly as possible. The strip club incident was a nightmare. No offense, Armando.” “None taken.” He nodded. “Ok, we’ll be sending in Armando and Terry on this one.” “C’mon, man. I’m prefect for this job.” Rafe argued back. “You’re too much of a pretty boy, Raf.” Kelly joked while he flipped her off. “Anywhoooo, you two will be joining the crew of the main boss, Deuce. I have his files right here for you so study up. Especially you, Armando.” She continued passing the folders to us to study on. “Dorn, you and Rafe will be on surveillance and tactical while Kelly, you will be playing the role of worker.” “Greaaaat.” “Deuce specializes in drug operations, prostitution, and weapon smuggling. This is a big case but we need to move smart.” Mike coached further before dismissing the meeting.

**A FEW HOURS LATER**

Waiting for the go ahead to enter, I mentally prepared myself for today’s outcome. Placing a quick call to my lady, I gave her my usual “I love you’s” and farewells before saying a silent prayer for a safe day. The only thing I hate about my line of duty is the possibility of not coming home to Anaya and our family. I hate even thinking about that shit so I just try my best to stay positive and lock in so I can do my job and go home to my happy place. “Your wife?” I heard before connecting the voice to Armando as he cleaned his gun. “Yeaaaaa, we’ve been married going on 4 years.” I smiled as I pulled out my phone to show him a picture. “That’s wassup, man.” “What about you? Family at home?” “Yea, besides Mike there’s my babygirl and our baby boy.” He cheesed showing off pictures of his girl and their son.

“Awesome, man. So Mike’s like what? Your uncle or something?” “My father.” He answered as I looked in confusion. “No offense, but ain’t you Mexican?” I asked earning a smooth chuckle. “Yea, my mother… she uh, she was Hispanic. I just found out Mike was my biological father a couple years ago. Then a little after that I found out about my son.” “Damn, that’s crazy. Well at least they’re in your life now.” Nodding, he smirked as he sat deep in thought. “Very true. That’s all about to change soon.” “What you mean?” Reaching into the dashboard of the truck, he pulled out a box containing a huge pink diamond ring. “Well I’ll be damned. Congratulations, man!” “Graciás. I lost her once before, I don’t wanna do that again.” He smiled admiring the rock. “That’s wonderful. When you plan on popping the big question?” “Tonight, so let’s make sure this shit goes off without a hitch.” “That’s for damn sure.” I conceded as we finally got the green light from the rest of the team.

**THAT NIGHT**

Walking into my humble abode, I sighed removing my backpack and vest before disarming my gun and securing it safely in it’s case. “Hey, my love.” My beauty smiled greeting me at the door with a loving hug and deep kiss. “Mmmmm, hey baby.” I cheesed holding her. “Soooo, how was it? Your first dayyyy.” She cheered making me chuckle. “It was really good. I think I’m gonna enjoy this position.” “Aww, baby, that’s amazing! I’m so proud of you.” She cooed bringing my lips to hers in a soft, endearing embrace as I coasted my hands up her backside. “Thank you, gorgeous. But enough about me. How was your day?” I pondered before lifting her in my arms and carrying her bridal style upstairs.

Aight nie! Y’all enjoy🫶🏾

Tags: @violetmuses @believeinthefireflies95 @brisunique @kaylaahisthebestest- @madxlov3 @armandosbabymama @casualsludgeshoetoad @mauvecherie-writes @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @theereina @kumkaniudaku

[rabidjackalope]

I give to you, my heart

(Rafe x Cannibal!Reader, cannibalism HOWEVER no one gets eaten, dismemberment, details on cooking a human, details about how drugs ruin your body, gore, idk the wordcount but id say around 5k? or less, I probs missed stuff so)

DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, ALSO I have no clue is anyone in the dark!fanfic box world has made, created or writing anything for a cannibal reader! I got my inspiration from my personal desire to consume the ones I love BUT FULL CREDIT TO ANYONE HAS WRITTEN IT BEFORE ME

You had only told Rafe if he ever died, you'd dismember his body and keep him in the large ice box your father kept in the basement for his fishing trip.

So when you had gotten a call from Barry, telling Rafe had passed away in his trailer. You knew you had to act fast, stealing your father's truck and speeding to the cut. When you arrived, Barry was outside sitting on the porch with his head in his hands. "I don't know what happened man, I gave him a few lines and then he just started fucking shaking." He said, trying to conceal the wavering tone in his voice. Barry had never looked more beaten in his life, which spoke levels considering his time in the military. You spoke to him softly as you approached him. "Barry, I know it wasn't your fault." You began, taking a deep breath. "But Im gonna need your help, I gonna need you to put his body in the truck." You know you sound insane, but you couldn't let Ward get to Rafe first. So what? So the love of your life could be stuck in a box 6 feet under? "Follow me, he's in the living room so be prepared." He informed you as he stood up and turned to the trailers door.

As you walked in behind Barry, you crumbled at the sight infant of you. Rafe Cameron, the man you had devoted yourself to was dead infant of you. He looked like was asleep almost, his head thrown back on the sofa, his legs wide apart and his hands rested in his lap. "I propped him up on the coach, felt bad leaving him, y'know looking dead when you came." Barry explained as his gaze saying glued to the stained carpet beneath him. You walked over to Rafe and sat next to him, slowly you raise your pointer and middle finger to his neck. You gasp at how cold he was, a small part of you had hoped this was a sick joke. Unfortunately, it was your new reality. "So how do we get him in the car?" "I take his left arm, you take the right. We carry him to the truck and just pop him in the trunk. It's already open." You instructed as you took Rafe's cold arm and wrapped it around your shoulders. Barry followed your lead. The both of you care Rafe to the truck with only a slight struggle, you popped Rafe in the bed of the truck and wrap him up in a blanket. Barry stopped you before you could cover his face. "Oh Country club, how you haunt me in death."

The drive home was quiet, you didn't turn on the radio because it felt wrong. You sat in a hopeless silence, thinking of Rafe. Thinking about how you'd never hear his wealthy laugh, how he'd never hold you close to his chest just so you could hear his heartbeat, the soft feeling of his lips against yours. Rafe is truly gone and there's nothing you can do to fix it. The only thing you could do was do what felt right, which was craving the meat off his bones and eating him. As you slowly pulled up to your home, you made sure to park next to the cellar door. You get out the truck and walk over to the trunk. Slowly you open it, staring at your dead boyfriend, wondering how you'll get him into the basement without hurting him. The best and only way the came to your mind was gently dragging his blanket clad body by hooking your arms around his chest, muttering a tearful apology every time his feet thumped against the steps. Once in the basement, you unwrap his body and begin collecting your supplies.

A large ice box, a bone saw, a butcher's knife, cling wrap, a plethora of cleaning supplies, rubbing alcohol, mason jars, a kitchen knife set, and your apron. After getting everything, you started to undress Rafe. He had wore your favorite shirt, a white polo that was thin and breathable, something similar to a guayabera. You folded it was you tears soaked the fabric, debating about framing the shirt or putting in a shadow box. Placing his clothes on the table, you pick up the bone saw. Before anything though, you kneel next to Rafe's face. Running your free hand over his buzzed head, "Oh my love." You start. "I'm so grateful for you, Rafe. I loved you so much, I dreamed of cracking open your chest and sleeping within it. I dreamed of eating the flesh that bought me comfort." You confessed, removing your hand from his head and rubbed his toned chest. "I wish you could taste the meals I have planned, beef stew with a bone broth, steak and potatoes, and oh I'm thinking of using the lining of your intestines to make empanadas!" You gleefully told your dead lover, slowly standing and moving towards his left arm.

Rafe's arms and legs were cut into 3 pieces, upper leg/arm, lower leg/arm and feet and hands. Each piece wrapped in clingfilm and placed into the ice box with a thin layer of ice covering them. Once done situating the parts, you picked up a thin medium sized kitchen. Carefully taking the knife to your lovers chest, you begin to cut him open. The sight of Rafe's intestines was gruseome, but his heart was something else. You cut his heart out to get a better look and began to cry hilariously, Rafe's heart was small and frail, the arteries had tears in them, and the lining of it was so thin that if you where too rough you where sure the shining with turn to ash in your hands. With shaky legs, you stand and walking back to the table. You unscrew one of the mason jars, delicately placing Rafe's heart in it. You grab the bottle of rubbing alcohol and fill the jar with. You screw the lid back on and exam the jar with watery eyes before placing it back down.

With all your attention turned back to Rafe, you clean out his chest cavity with ease. You place his different intestines in jars and label the accordingly. you decide to separate his linings from this organs later. Thinking it will taste better if you remove them when needed. The second last step was next, Rafes brain and eyes. You take your bone saw right to his forehead, taking your time while sawing to make sure you didn't damage the brain. You peel back his scalp and remove the top of his skull, revealing this brain. With caution, you take it out of its home in Rafes head. You preserve it like you did his heart. You scooped his eyes out with your bare hands and preserve them.

The final part step was cremation, you broke the scraps of Rafe's body down to the smallest pieces you can. You took him out back and burned him in the fire pit. You watched the fire engulf your former lovers body, again remising on the relationship that was too good to be over. You and Rafe where supposed to grow old together, you there supposed to be married, you where supposed to have a house with a white picket fence 3 and a half kids and a dog. You weren't supposed to be burning his body in your backyard after he had a drug overdose. You snapped out of your thoughts once the fire died down, you scooped his ashes into a porcelain urn. You carried his ashes to your room, placing them on the alter you made for him. His ashes right in-between his brain and heart, with his beautiful baby blues next to a photo of the two of you smiling. "I love you forever, Rafe." You whispered as you placed a kiss on his urn.

~ love bay-bay (omg this is my first actual fanfic on this blog and I'm so excited for it!! I hope you enjoyed it, I was gonna write a nerd!Rafe x bsfmom!Reader fic but this was an itch I had to scratch lolz)