tanjamikaelson

[tanjamikaelson]

when they ask what my biggest fear is but i can't say getting attached to someone again so i say probably spiders

[tanjamikaelson]

STRANGE LOVE - CHAPTER 31

MASTERLIST

CHAPTER 31: | THE ONE THAT I LOVE |

Rafe had spent the entire day wrestling with his thoughts, the weight of his decision bearing down on him like a vice. The conclusion was unavoidable—Barry was right. The only way to secure his future, to finally step out from the shadow of his father’s control, was to get rid of Ward Cameron for good. But no matter how much anger festered within him, no matter how many times he replayed the endless betrayals and manipulations, Rafe couldn’t bring himself to do it. The idea of ending the man who had loomed so large in his life, who had shaped him, for better or worse, was a line he couldn’t cross.

Still, it had to be done. And if he couldn’t pull the trigger himself, he knew someone who could. So, Rafe made his way to Barry’s place, the decision made but not yet fully accepted in his heart. As he drove, the familiar landmarks of the Outer Banks blurred past, but Rafe barely noticed them. His mind was too consumed with what lay ahead.

Rafe’s stomach churned with anxiety as he stepped out of his car, his feet feeling leaden as he made his way to where Barry sat. He was lounging in a chair outside, a half-empty beer can in his hand, his eyes sharp as he watched Rafe approach.

Rafe sat down in the chair across from him, the tension between them palpable. The smell of cheap beer and cigarette smoke hung in the air. Rafe took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, to push down the rising tide of doubt and fear.

“Hey, if my pop stays here, all right, our deal, us doing business together, using the company to launder the money, all that fifty-fifty shit…” Rafe’s voice was steady, but his eyes betrayed his inner turmoil. He couldn’t stop them from flicking nervously to the ground, his fingers drumming a restless pattern on the arm of the chair.

Barry nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving Rafe’s face. He could sense the storm brewing inside the younger man, the war between duty and dread, power and fear. “Mm-hmm,” Barry hummed, encouraging Rafe to continue, though he already knew where this conversation was headed.

Rafe swallowed hard, forcing himself to meet Barry’s gaze, to push through the fear that threatened to choke him. “...all that’s gone.” His voice grew firmer, a mix of determination and desperation seeping into his tone as he laid out the stakes.

Barry leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied Rafe. He had seen this before—the moment when a man makes a choice that changes everything, the moment when he steps over a line that can never be uncrossed. He took a slow sip of his beer before speaking, his voice low and deliberate. “What you’re asking me right now is something that, once it’s done, cannot be undone.” He let the words hang in the air, heavy and foreboding, giving Rafe time to truly grasp the gravity of the situation. “There’s no going back. I’m talking about your family, talking about your pops, talking about your blood. And blood complicates things.”

Rafe’s jaw tightened, the words digging into him like a knife. Blood complicates things. He knew that better than anyone. His whole life had been defined by the ties that bound him to his family, the unspoken rules and expectations, and the weight of carrying the Cameron name. And now, he was about to shatter those ties, to sever them in the most final way possible. But he had no other choice. His father had controlled him for too long, kept him under his thumb, and made him doubt himself at every turn. This was the only way to break free, to take control of his life.

Barry paused, letting his words sink in. “Hypothetically speaking, let’s say I do it. And then, for whatever reason, you decide to change your mind. Sell me out.”

“No,” Rafe said, shaking his head as if to dispel any lingering doubts. “Yeah, this has been a long time coming. He’s always had his boot on my neck. Holding me down.” The anger in his voice was palpable now, mixing with the fear and uncertainty. “That’s all gonna be over soon. I’m not changing my mind.”

Rafe finished his beer in one long gulp, the bitter taste doing nothing to settle the turmoil inside him. He dropped the empty can to the ground, the metallic clatter breaking the heavy silence that had settled over them. Without another word, he stood up, his legs feeling unsteady beneath him as if the weight of what he had just done was too much to bear.

As Rafe walked away, his heart pounded in his chest, each step feeling like it was dragging him deeper into the abyss. The decision was made, the path set, but the dread gnawing at him only grew stronger with each passing moment.

There was no turning back now, no second-guessing, no chance to undo what he had set in motion. His father’s fate was sealed, and with it, so was Rafe’s. He had taken the first step toward becoming his own man, but the cost was one he would carry with him for the rest of his life.

As he reached his car and opened the door, Rafe paused for a moment. The thought of what he had just done, of what was about to happen, sent a shiver down his spine. But he couldn’t stop now. He couldn’t let the fear take hold. He had to keep going, to see this through to the end, no matter what it cost him.

And so, with a deep breath and a heart heavy with dread, Rafe climbed into his car and drove away, leaving behind the man he had been and hurtling toward the man he was about to become.

・ • ・ • ・

Later that evening, Allison found herself at Jessica and Brandon's engagement party, trying to lose herself in the laughter and chatter of friends. The house was filled with laughter, the clinking of glasses, and the low hum of music, a stark contrast to the storm of emotions brewing inside her. She had been looking forward to this night, hoping it would provide a much-needed distraction from the thoughts of Rafe that had plagued her since their last encounter.

As the night wore on, and the champagne continued to flow, Allison felt herself growing tipsy. The alcohol loosened her inhibitions, and with it came a surge of vulnerability. She needed to talk, to unload the thoughts and feelings that had been weighing her down.

Pulling Jessica aside, she led her into an empty room, the music, and laughter fading to a distant hum as she closed the door behind them. “Jess, I need to talk to you,” Allison began, her voice wavering.

Jessica, always perceptive, immediately sensed something was wrong. “What’s going on?” she asked, concern etched on her face.

Allison took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. “Rafe came to see me the other night,” she confessed, her words tumbling out in a rush. “He gave me this beautiful set of jewelry.” Allison began, her voice trembling slightly as she tried to steady herself. The memory of the sparkling gems, Rafe’s hopeful eyes as he handed them to her, played over and over in her mind.

Jessica’s eyes widened with interest, her curiosity piqued. “Do you have a picture? Show me,” she urged, leaning in closer.

Allison shook her head slowly, regret evident in her gaze. “No. I gave it back to him.”

Jessica’s face twisted in confusion, her brow furrowing deeply. “You gave it back? Why?” she asked, her tone a mixture of disbelief and concern.

Allison took a shaky breath, trying to find the right words. “Honestly, I was close to forgiving him for everything that happened. Then Cole came, and I just… I didn’t know what else to do,” she explained, her voice tinged with regret. The choice she had made that night, torn between two men, felt like a weight she could no longer bear alone.

Jessica studied her friend carefully, the depth of Allison’s inner turmoil written clearly across her face. “Do you like that guy, Cole?” she asked softly, her tone gentle and probing.

Allison sighed heavily, her heart feeling like it was being squeezed. “I do like him. I mean, he helped me a lot, but…” Her voice trailed off, her thoughts a tangled mess. How could she put into words the conflict that raged within her, the pull between what was safe and what her heart truly wanted?

Jessica didn’t need Allison to finish her sentence; she already knew. “But you love Rafe,” she said, her voice tender and filled with understanding.

Allison’s eyes filled with tears, the truth of Jessica’s words hitting her like a tidal wave. “But I’m scared. I’m scared of him betraying my trust again,” she confessed, her voice breaking as the tears spilled over.

Jessica’s gaze softened, and she squeezed Allison’s arm reassuringly. “Allison, I can’t tell you what to do. But I think Rafe knows he messed up, and it sounds like he’s trying to make it right. You won’t know if he’s changed unless you give him a chance.”

Allison wiped away a tear, her heart torn between hope and fear. “Do you really think he deserves another chance?”

Jessica smiled, trying to lift her friend’s spirits. “If he hurts you again, we’ll just bury him in the backyard. No one will ever find him.”

Allison let out a small laugh, despite the tears still glistening in her eyes. “I don’t think that will be necessary.”

Jessica pulled her into a tight hug, her voice soft with encouragement. “You need to talk to him, Allison.”

Allison nodded, feeling a flicker of hope in her chest, a tiny spark of courage. “Yeah, I think I will,” she said, her resolve slowly solidifying.

As the night progressed, Allison drank more, the alcohol dulling her fears, clouding her judgment. The idea of talking to Rafe grew more compelling and more urgent. Each sip of champagne made the thought of him more vivid until it was all she could think about. When she finally left the party, her head spinning, she decided she couldn’t wait any longer. She needed to see him immediately.

Jessica’s house was close to Rafe’s, so it only took her a few minutes to walk there, her heels clicking against the pavement. The night air was cool, and it did little to sober her up as she stumbled slightly on the uneven ground. The determination that had fueled her earlier began to falter as she approached Rafe’s house, her heart pounding in her chest.

She walked inside, the door creaking softly as it closed behind her. The house was quiet, the only sound the echo of her heels on the floor as she moved through the hallway. Her heart pounded in her chest, a strange mix of desperation and determination driving her forward. The emotions churned within her, a storm of conflicting feelings that she couldn't quite grasp. Each step felt heavier than the last, but she pressed on, knowing that she needed to see him.

"Rafe!" she called out, her voice trembling slightly. The name carried a weight of longing, anger, and something that felt dangerously close to hope. It was a call laced with desperation as if she were clinging to the last thread of sanity she had left.

RAFE’S P.O.V:

Rafe was in his bedroom, trying to lose himself in the heat of the moment with Sofia. Her hands roamed over his chest as she stripped off his t-shirt, her touch meant to distract him from the thoughts that had been plaguing him all night. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't shake the image of Allison from his mind—the way she looked at him, the way she spoke, every little detail. The more he tried to drown out those thoughts, the more they consumed him.

Just as Sofia leaned in to kiss him again, he heard a voice that made his heart skip a beat. A voice he could never mistake, no matter how much he wanted to forget it.

"Rafe!" The sound of his name in Allison's voice sent a jolt through him, pulling him out of the fog he had been trying to sink into with Sofia. He broke the kiss abruptly, pushing Sofia back with a suddenness that left her stunned.

Sofia had confusion and frustration written all over her face as she watched him stand up and move toward the door as if he was in a trance.

But Rafe barely registered her. His mind was solely focused on Allison, on that single call of his name. He opened the door, stepping into the hallway just in time to see Allison reaching the top of the stairs. Her movements were unsteady, her usually sharp eyes glassy and unfocused. She was drunk, that much was clear, but there was something else—something in the way she held herself, in the determination that was etched into every line of her body.

“Allison, what are you doing here?” he asked, his voice low and laced with concern. He took a step toward her, his eyes searching her face for answers. The surprise in his expression was evident, but beneath it, there was something softer—something that spoke of the care he still felt for her, no matter how much he tried to bury it.

Allison met his gaze, her breath hitching in her throat. The sight of him standing there, shirtless and vulnerable, sent a wave of relief. Relief that he was there, that she hadn’t imagined his voice, that she could still reach him, even after everything.

"I’m looking for you," Allison replied, her voice slurring slightly as she tried to maintain some semblance of control. Her eyes focused on Rafe, her gaze intense and unwavering. There was a plea in her tone, buried deep beneath the alcohol and the bravado.

Rafe took another step closer, his concern deepening. "Are you drunk?" he asked, though he already knew the answer. It was written all over her—her disheveled appearance, the way she swayed slightly where she stood, the way her words came out just a bit too slowly.

Allison tried to flirt, to distract herself from the pain that was threatening to bubble up to the surface. She let her eyes drift over his bare chest, her voice taking on a teasing edge. "I’m slightly intoxicated by your good looks," she quipped, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

But Rafe wasn’t buying it. He could see through the act, past the bravado, straight to the vulnerability underneath. He didn’t respond with a flirtation of his own; instead, his expression softened, the concern in his eyes deepening as he reached out to steady her. "Allison," he began, but before he could say more, her facade cracked.

The tears welled up in her eyes, and before she could stop them, they spilled over, streaking down her cheeks. The emotional dam she had been holding back all night broke, and her voice wavered as she spoke. "I know I’m a fool for letting you go. Please forgive me," she choked out, the words coming from somewhere deep within her, from a place she had tried so hard to protect. "So will you?”

For a moment, Rafe just stood there, stunned by the raw emotion in her voice. He had imagined this moment a thousand times, had dreamed of hearing her say those words, but now that it was happening, it didn’t feel like a victory. It felt like something was breaking, something fragile and precious that they had both tried so hard to protect.

Before he could gather his thoughts, a voice from behind him broke the tension. "Is everything okay?" Sofia’s voice was hesitant, uncertain, as she took in the scene in front of her, her expression one of confusion and mild annoyance.

Allison’s heart sank at the sound, her eyes narrowing as she looked past Rafe to see Sofia standing there, wrapped in nothing but a sheet. The sight of her made any hope she had been holding onto evaporate in an instant. She looked at Rafe, disappointment and hurt etched deeply into her features. "I guess not," Allison muttered, the bitterness in her voice barely concealed. The realization hit her like a punch to the gut—she wasn’t the only one in Rafe’s life anymore.

She turned away in a desperate attempt to leave before she broke down completely. But Rafe wasn’t about to let her go so easily.

“Allison, wait,” Rafe called after her.

He rushed after her, grabbing the door handle before she could escape.

She turned on him, her voice filled with hurt and jealousy, the alcohol fueling her anger. “I’m sorry, did I interrupt the foreplay?” she snapped, her words laced with bitterness.

Rafe’s eyes flashed with frustration. He didn’t know how to make her understand, how to convince her that Sofia meant nothing to him, that it had always been her—only her. "Come on, don’t be jealous now," he pleaded, his voice softening as he tried to reach her. "The other night you told me to leave, remember?”

“I only told you to leave because Cole came,” Allison snapped, her voice breaking with the effort to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over again.

Rafe’s expression softened, his voice lowering to a more gentle tone. “And if he didn’t?” he asked, his words hanging between them like a delicate thread, waiting for her response.

Allison swallowed hard, her breath hitching as she fought back tears. She didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to articulate the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside her. The room seemed to spin as she stared into Rafe’s eyes, a mixture of longing, anger, and fear coursing through her veins.

For a brief moment, the world fell away. All that mattered was the tension between them, the unspoken words, and the memories that hung in the air like a heavy fog.

She wanted to scream at him, to tell him how much he had hurt her, how much she had needed him, and how seeing him with Sofia was like a knife twisting in her heart.

She also wanted to tell him the truth, to say that she would have let him stay, that she needed him now more than ever. But the words wouldn’t come. Instead, she acted on the raw impulse that consumed her. Before she could think, before she could stop herself, she reached out, wrapping her hand around the back of his neck and pulling him down to her into a desperate, needy kiss. She pressed herself against him, pouring all of her frustration and longing into that single moment. Rafe froze for a second, caught off guard by her intensity, but then he responded with equal fervor, his arms wrapping around her waist, pulling her closer as if he could never let go.

Their kiss was a volatile mix of emotions—raw passion, lingering regret, seething anger, and an unyielding love that had never truly extinguished. Rafe’s lips moved against Allison’s with an intensity that spoke of desperation, his hands tracing her back as though he was trying to memorize every curve, every dip, as if needing to physically confirm that she was really there, within his grasp once more.

It was as if he was trying to pour everything he couldn’t say into that kiss—his apologies, his longing, his sorrow for the ways he had hurt her. For Allison, it was a reminder of the fire that still burned between them, a fire she had tried so hard to forget, to douse with other distractions, other people, but had failed. Each touch from Rafe sent sparks through her, reigniting the flame that had always existed between them.

But just as she began to surrender completely to the kiss, Sofia’s voice shattered the moment, cutting through the haze of their reunion like a sharp blade. “Rafe, what the hell?”

Allison jerked back, her breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps as reality came crashing back. She turned her head to see Sofia standing at the top of the stairs, her expression a mix of shock, confusion, and deep, raw hurt.

Annoyance flashed through Allison, her irritation bubbling to the surface. She didn’t want to deal with this right now, not when she had finally found her way back to Rafe, however temporary that might be. Keeping her hands pressed against Rafe’s chest, as if to anchor herself, she whispered against his lips, her voice low and breathless, “Tell her to leave.”

Rafe’s eyes, still dark with desire, flicked to Sofia. His expression hardened, his voice cold and unyielding as he gave the command, “Sofia, just… leave.”

He didn’t even bother to look at her fully, his gaze quickly returning to Allison, as if fearing she might disappear if he turned his attention away for too long. His eyes silently pleaded with her to stay, to not let this interruption ruin what they had just rekindled.

Sofia’s face crumpled in a mix of anger and betrayal. “Are you kidding me? You’re throwing me out for her?” Her voice trembled with the weight of her emotions.

Recognition sparked in Sofia’s eyes—she remembered Allison from their encounter at the club a few nights ago when Allison had asked her those pointed questions about Rafe. She had been suspicious then, but let it go, trusting Rafe in a way she shouldn’t have. Now, seeing the intensity between him and Allison, she realized she should have pressed him, should have questioned his intentions, but it was too late.

“Go!” Rafe barked, his frustration bleeding into his tone, rough and unrefined. He was done with this interruption, his mind and heart solely focused on Allison.

For a moment, Sofia just stood there, disbelief etched into every line of her face, her mind trying to grasp what was happening. The sting of rejection was sharp, cutting deep, as she realized she had been a fool to think she could mean anything more to Rafe than a temporary distraction. Her heart ached, but she wasn’t about to beg for what she knew she could never have.

With a huff of frustration and a final look of contempt, Sofia turned on her heel and stormed down the stairs. The front door slammed behind her with a loud thud, the sound echoing through the house, final and resolute. She had thought, perhaps foolishly, that Rafe might care for her, but seeing the intensity between him and Allison left no doubt—there was something between them that Sofia could never compete with. She wasn’t in their league, and she knew it.

As soon as the door clicked shut, the tension between Rafe and Allison snapped like a taut wire. Without hesitation, Rafe’s hands were back on her, pulling her close, pressing her against the wall, and capturing her lips in a searing kiss. It was rough, passionate, and filled with all the urgency of a man trying to make up for lost time. Their hands roamed each other’s bodies, rediscovering the familiar terrain with a desperate need that only heightened with each passing second.

The kiss deepened, became hungrier, more frenzied, as they moved together in a desperate dance, each trying to get closer, to merge together, to forget about the world outside this moment. It was as though time had stopped, and nothing else mattered but the feel of each other’s skin, the taste of each other’s lips, the way their bodies fit together so perfectly, so naturally.

Rafe’s hands found her hips, lifting her effortlessly as she wrapped her legs around his waist, clinging to him as though he were the only thing grounding her in this whirlwind of emotions. He carried her up the stairs with purpose, his mind solely focused on her, on them, on reclaiming what had once been his.

The moment they reached the bedroom, Allison felt the soft mattress against her back, Rafe’s weight pressing down on top of her, grounding her, surrounding her with his warmth, his scent, his presence.

His lips trailed hot, wet kisses up her legs, each touch igniting a fire deep within her, making her shiver with anticipation and want. It felt like no time had passed, like they were picking up right where they had left off, the connection between them as electric as ever.

For a moment, Rafe paused, pulling back just enough to look into her eyes, searching for any sign of hesitation, of doubt. “Are you sure about this?” he whispered, his voice rough with desire but tinged with uncertainty.

Allison’s eyes, dark with a mix of emotions, met his, and she nodded, her voice soft but filled with conviction, “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

“You still on the pill?” Rafe asked and Allison nodded.

Rafe didn’t need to hear anything else. His hand found its way under her dress, sliding up her thigh, and when he felt how ready she was for him, a growl of satisfaction rumbled in his chest. Allison’s breath hitched as his fingers began to trace the sensitive skin, barely brushing over her in a way that made her body tremble with need.

There was no hesitation as Rafe’s fingers slipped under the waistband of her panties, pulling them off and tossing them aside without a second thought. He bent his head, his lips finding the soft skin of her inner thigh, kissing and nipping at the sensitive flesh until Allison was writhing beneath him, her breath coming in quick, shallow gasps.

When his fingers began to stroke her, Allison let out a gasp, her body arching toward him in a desperate plea for more. Rafe’s eyes locked onto hers, the intensity in his gaze nearly overwhelming. He looked at her like he was ready to devour her, his need for her palpable. Allison’s breath caught in her throat as she spread her legs wider, giving him the access he craved.

Rafe pushed a finger inside her, his breath hitching as he felt how ready she was. Allison let out a moan that echoed through the room, her back arching off the bed as her body responded to him instinctively. Rafe’s touch was both familiar and new, sending shockwaves of pleasure through her as he moved his fingers in a slow, deliberate rhythm, building the tension within her until it was almost unbearable.

But Rafe wasn’t done with her. He lowered his head, his lips finding the most sensitive part of her, his tongue flicking over her in a way that made Allison cry out, her body trembling as the pleasure built higher and higher. He didn’t let up, his fingers and tongue working in perfect harmony.

“Rafe, oh God,” she gasped, her hands clutching at the sheets as she fought to maintain some semblance of control.

She wrapped her left leg around his shoulder, pulling him closer, desperate for more of the intense sensation he was creating.

Rafe’s hands slid under her, gripping her ass and pulling her even closer as he licked her faster, more urgently. Allison’s body writhed beneath him, every nerve ending alight with pleasure. She could feel herself getting closer and closer to the edge, the tension building inside her until it felt like she might explode.

As he continued his relentless assault, Rafe’s eyes flicked up to meet hers, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. The sight of him, his mouth and chin glistening with her arousal, his eyes dark with lust, sent a fresh wave of heat through her. Her breathing grew more erratic, her chest heaving as she tried to hold on, to delay the inevitable, but it was no use.

“That’s it, baby,” Rafe growled, his voice deep and rough with desire. He gave one final, intense flick of his tongue over her clit, and Allison was lost. Her orgasm crashed over her like a tidal wave, her body convulsing as the pleasure rippled through her, every muscle tensing and then releasing in a wave of pure bliss.

Rafe didn’t give her a moment to recover. He pulled his fingers from her, sliding them into his mouth, his eyes locked on hers as he licked them clean. The sight sent a fresh wave of desire crashing through her, making her reach for him, pulling him down for a kiss that was all heat and desperation. She could taste herself on his lips. It was intoxicating, sending a fresh wave of arousal through her. She could feel his breath hot against her face as he broke the kiss just long enough to pull her dress over her head, tossing it aside with a flick of his wrist. His hands moved quickly to unclasp her bra, sliding it off and leaving her completely bare beneath him.

Allison wasted no time, her fingers fumbling with his belt in her eagerness to get him undressed. She finally managed to undo it, shoving his pants down with impatient hands, desperate to feel him against her. Rafe groaned as her hand wrapped around him, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment as he savored the sensation.

But then he was grabbing her wrist, flinging her hand away from him with a rough growl. “Don’t,” he ordered, his voice thick with lust. “I just need to fuck you.”

With that, he kicked off the rest of his clothes, his eyes locked onto hers with a look of pure, unrestrained hunger. In the next breath, his lips were back on hers, kissing her with a ferocity that took her breath away. His tongue slipped into her mouth, rolling across hers in a way that was both familiar and thrillingly new.

Without warning, Rafe pushed into her, filling her completely, the sudden stretch making her gasp. Her hair tangled in his fist as he lowered his weight onto his elbows, their chests pressed tightly together. He dropped his head to her neck, biting at the sensitive skin there as he pulled his hips back, dragging out of her slowly before slamming back in with a force that had her crying out in pleasure.

Allison’s hands clutched at his back, her nails digging into his skin as she tried to anchor herself against the overwhelming sensations flooding her body. Rafe began to move, his pace slow and deliberate at first, savoring the feel of her, the way her body responded to his every touch, every thrust. But it wasn’t long before the pace quickened, the deep, measured strokes giving way to something more frantic, more desperate as they both sought the release they had been denied for so long.

“Do I make you feel good, baby?” Rafe breathed into her ear, his voice a deep rumble that sent shivers down her spine.

Allison could barely form a coherent thought, let alone respond, as his hips slammed against hers again, each thrust pushing her closer to the edge. She felt like she was unraveling, her body completely at his mercy, every nerve alight with need.

“Do I?” Rafe demanded, his hand tugging on her hair as he brought his face in front of hers, forcing her to meet his intense gaze. His blue eyes burned with a mix of lust and something deeper, something that made her heart twist in her chest.

“God, yes,” Allison finally managed to gasp out, her voice shaky with pleasure. “I missed you so much.”

Rafe’s smirk was wicked as he captured her lips in another searing kiss, his pace quickening as he drove into her with a desperation that matched her own. Their bodies moved together in a frantic rhythm, each thrust bringing them closer to the breaking point.

Allison’s legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper, holding him closer as her body moved in time with his, the rhythm building to a fever pitch. The pleasure was almost too much to bear, every nerve ending in her body tingling with the intensity of it, the heat pooling in her belly, coiling tighter and tighter until she thought she might break apart from the pressure.

“Fuck, Rafe…” she groaned, her voice barely a whisper, but the way it affected him was immediate. His hand slipped between them, finding her sensitive spot, and with just a few strokes, she was coming undone again, her body convulsing around him in waves of pleasure so intense it took her breath away. Her vision blurred, and her world narrowed down to the feel of him moving inside her, the way his body pressed against hers, the sound of his voice murmuring her name like a prayer.

Rafe wasn’t far behind. The feel of her tightening around him, the way she cried out his name, sent him hurtling toward his own release. His thrusts became erratic, more desperate, as he chased that final moment of bliss. When he finally reached it, he buried himself deep inside her, his body shuddering as he let out a guttural moan, the sound of it vibrating through both of them.

Rafe collapsed on top of her, his head resting against her chest as he panted heavily, his breath warm against her skin. Allison’s fingers brushed over his buzzed hair, her heart pounding in her chest as she tried to catch her breath. The room was filled with the sound of their heavy breathing, the air thick with the scent of sex, and the lingering tension of everything left unsaid.

Eventually, Rafe rolled off beside Allison, his body spent but his mind still buzzing with the remnants of everything they had just shared. He rolled onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow so he could look at her. Allison was already looking at him, her eyes wide and vulnerable in the dim light.

Rafe studied her for a long moment, taking in the way her hair fanned out across the pillow, the soft rise and fall of her chest as she breathed, the lingering flush on her cheeks. She was beautiful, and at this moment, she was his. But there was something else in her gaze—something that wasn’t just desire or satisfaction. It was something deeper, something he hadn’t seen in a long time.

For the first time in months, there was love in her eyes. And that realization hit him harder than anything else. It wasn’t just the physical connection they had just shared—it was the emotional one, the one that had been broken and battered but was still there, still holding them together.

For Allison, this moment was equally significant. Her heart was racing, not just from the physical exertion but from the flood of emotions that had been buried for so long. She had missed Rafe—missed his touch, his presence, the way he could make her feel alive with just a look. But there was a deeper undercurrent of uncertainty swirling inside her, a fear of the unknown. What did this mean for them now? Were they just caught in a cycle of passion and pain, or was there a chance for something more?

The silence between them stretched, each lost in their own thoughts, yet tethered to one another by an invisible thread of longing and unresolved feelings.

Rafe was the first to break the silence, his voice low and tinged with vulnerability. "Allison," he began, struggling to find the right words, "I know I’ve messed up... more times than I can count. I’ve hurt you in ways that I can’t even forgive myself for.” He paused, the weight of his confession hanging in the air between them. He reached out, brushing a few strands of hair away from her face with a touch that was surprisingly gentle, as if he were afraid she might pull away. His blue eyes, still dark with the remnants of their shared desire, softened as they locked onto hers. "But I meant what I said—I’m trying to be better. I don’t want to lose you again."

Allison’s heart tightened at his words. She could see the sincerity in his eyes, the vulnerability he so rarely allowed himself to show. It tugged at her heartstrings, making it harder to maintain the walls she had built around her heart. But those walls had been her protection, a way to shield herself from the hurt and betrayal that had come before. Could she really let them down now?

"I don’t know, Rafe," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly as she wrestled with the storm of emotions inside her. "I want to believe you, but... how do I know this won’t happen again? How do I know you’re not just saying what I want to hear?”

Her question hung in the air, and for a moment, Rafe’s eyes darkened with something that looked a lot like guilt. He had no right to ask for her trust, not after everything he had done. But he couldn’t lose her—not again. He had been reckless, selfish, and blind to the damage he had caused. But as he looked into her eyes, he knew that he couldn’t let her go without a fight.

"I don’t have all the answers," he admitted, his tone laced with honesty. "But I do know that I want to be with you. I want to be the man you deserve, not the one who hurt you. And I promise you, I’ll spend the rest of my life making it right if you’ll let me."

There was a rawness in his voice that cut through Allison’s defenses, making her heartache with the weight of his words. The walls she had built began to crack, piece by piece, as she struggled with the decision that lay before her.

"You make it sound so easy," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, laced with the fear and uncertainty that had plagued her since they had parted ways.

"It’s not," Rafe responded, his voice heavy with the weight of their shared past. "But I don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you."

Allison closed her eyes, leaning into his touch as the emotions threatened to overwhelm her. She could feel her resolve weakening, her heart yearning to trust him again, to believe that this time could be different. But there was still that nagging voice in the back of her mind, the one that reminded her of all the times he had let her down, of the pain she had endured because of him.

"Rafe, I’m scared," she admitted, her voice trembling with the weight of her confession. "I’m scared of what will happen if I let you in again."

Rafe leaned his forehead against hers, his breath warm against her skin as he whispered, "So am I. But I’m more scared of what will happen if you don’t.”

His words echoed in her mind, resonating with the deepest parts of her heart. She knew that this decision would be one of the most important she would ever make. If she let him back in, there was no guarantee that things would be different, that he wouldn’t hurt her again. But as she looked into his eyes, she could see the man she had fallen in love with beneath the layers of hurt and anger—a man who, despite his flaws, had captured her heart in a way that no one else had.

"Okay," she said finally, her voice barely audible, yet filled with a sense of resolve. The tension in her body began to ease, just a little, as she allowed herself to hope for the first time in a long while. "We can try again."

Rafe exhaled, a look of relief washing over his features. He pressed a tender kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering against her skin as he whispered, "Thank you. I’ll do whatever it takes, I promise."

Allison nodded, feeling a strange mix of hope and trepidation settle in her chest. She knew that this was just the beginning, that there were still many challenges ahead of them. But for the first time in what felt like forever, she allowed herself to believe that maybe they could find their way back to each other.

They lay there in the quiet, Rafe holding her close as the night deepened around them. The room was filled with the soft sound of their breathing, the weight of their unspoken promises hanging in the air like a fragile truce. It was a truce that could either lead to healing or to further heartbreak, but for now, it was enough.

As Rafe suggested taking a shower, Allison agreed, hoping the warmth of the water might wash away some of the lingering doubts in her mind. They repeated their earlier passion in the shower, this time slower, more tender, as if trying to reassure each other of their connection, to solidify the bond they were tentatively rebuilding.

After the shower, they climbed back into bed, and Allison drifted off to sleep in Rafe’s arms, her head resting on his chest, feeling a sense of peace she hadn’t felt in weeks.

As her eyes fluttered closed, she hoped with all her heart that they were making the right choice, that this time would be different, that they could finally heal the wounds that had kept them apart. As she slipped into the embrace of sleep, she held onto the belief that they could find their way back to each other, one step at a time.

TAGS: @tiaamberxx @dominicfikexoxo

[tanjamikaelson]

BEST FRIEND'S BROTHER - CHAPTER 9

MASTERLIST

CHAPTER 9: | UNTHINKABLE |

In the early morning light, you woke up feeling a strange mix of emotions coursing through you, the aftereffects of the morning-after pill settling in. Your body felt heavy, and there was a dull ache in your lower abdomen, but it was the emotional weight that hit you hardest. The events of last night played over and over in your mind—the panic, the fear, the desperate rush to make things right. The memory of that fear, the thought of what could have happened, made your heart pound even now.

You lay still, your eyes fixed on the ceiling, and before you knew it, silent tears began to slip down your cheeks. They were tears of fear, of relief, of everything that had been bottled up inside you since last night. It was the first time you had taken the pill, and the uncertainty of how your body would react, coupled with the emotional turmoil, overwhelmed you. You were crying because the thought of getting pregnant had been terrifying, like a shadow looming over you, and now that shadow was lifting, replaced by a fragile sense of relief that you’d done the right thing.

You turned your face into the pillow, trying to muffle your sobs, not wanting to wake Rafe. But even as you tried to be silent, you felt him stirring beside you. His presence was solid, and grounding, and then you felt his fingers gently brushing through your hair, his touch so soft it almost broke you.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Rafe’s voice was thick with sleep, laced with concern. “Look at me.”

He gently cupped your chin, turning your face towards him, his blue eyes filled with worry. His thumb brushed away your tears, his touch tender, as if he was afraid you might break. The intensity of his gaze, the genuine concern in his expression, made your heart ache even more.

“Nothing. Everything is okay now,” you whispered, forcing a small smile onto your lips. You didn’t want him to worry, didn’t want him to feel guilty for what had happened. But the smile felt weak, shaky, and you knew he could see through it.

Rafe’s brows furrowed, his gaze searching yours. “It clearly isn’t if you’re crying,” he said softly, his voice steady but filled with an undercurrent of pain. He hated seeing you like this, hated that you were hurting because of him.

“I just feel emotional. It’s because of the pill,” you explained, your voice trembling. You tried to make it sound like it wasn’t a big deal like it was something you could handle, but even as you said it, more tears welled up, blurring your vision.

Rafe’s expression tightened, his jaw clenching as he looked at you, his eyes filled with regret. “I’m sorry you have to go through that because of me,” he murmured, his voice rough. You could see the guilt etched across his features, the way his shoulders tensed as if he were carrying the weight of it all.

“It’s not just your fault,” you said softly, your hand reaching up to cup his cheek, feeling the slight stubble under your fingers. “I should’ve remembered too.”

He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes for a moment, his breath shuddering. His hand came up to rest over yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles, a silent gesture of comfort. “We’ll both be careful next time,” he said quietly, his eyes opening to meet yours, his gaze steady and sincere.

You couldn’t help but smile at him then, a real smile, small but genuine. The fact that he was here, that he cared so much, made everything feel a little less overwhelming. You leaned forward, pressing your lips to his in a soft, tender kiss. It was a kiss filled with gratitude, with affection, with everything you couldn’t quite put into words.

Rafe kissed you back immediately, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you closer. His kiss was gentle, reassuring, but there was an intensity there too, a need to show you how much he cared, how much you meant to him. His hands moved up and down your back, his touch comforting, grounding.

But even as his body responded to yours, even as you felt his desire pressing against you, Rafe pulled back, breaking the kiss. His forehead rested against yours, his breathing ragged. He looked at you, his eyes filled with so much emotion it made your heartache. He wanted you—god, he wanted you so much—but he knew this wasn’t the right time. You were still emotional, still processing everything, and he didn’t want to push you, he didn’t want you to feel pressured or overwhelmed.

“Not now,” he whispered, his voice low and husky. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to do anything, okay?”

You nodded, your heart swelling with love for him. The fact that he was thinking about your feelings, that he was putting you first, made you feel safe, cherished. “Thank you,” you whispered back, your voice thick with emotion.

Rafe’s arms tightened around you, holding you close, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I’m here, okay? Whatever you need, I’m here.”

You buried your face in his chest, your arms wrapping around him as you let his warmth, his presence, soothe you. And as you lay there, held securely in his arms, you felt the weight of everything slowly begin to lift. You were still scared, still processing, but you knew you weren’t alone. Rafe was here, with you, and together, you’d figure everything out.

After getting out of bed, you and Rafe sat on the patio, eating the remaining pizza from last night. The sun was high in the sky, casting a warm glow over everything. It was one of those lazy, summer mornings where everything felt a little slower, a little more relaxed, but there was an underlying tension between you and Rafe that you couldn’t quite shake.

Rafe finished his slice and reached for the bong that was sitting on the table. You watched as he inhaled deeply, the smoke swirling around him as he exhaled slowly, his eyes half-closed. You knew he was using it to escape, to numb whatever he was feeling, and it made your chest tighten with worry. You hated seeing him like this, relying on substances to cope, even if it wasn’t cocaine this time.

He glanced over at you, a small, almost sheepish smile on his lips. “You want a hit?”

You shook your head, your expression serious. “No.”

“Have you ever smoked?” he asked, his voice casual, but there was an edge to it, like he was trying to gauge your reaction, trying to see if there was a part of your life he hadn’t yet touched.

“No, and I don’t plan on doing it in the middle of the day,” you replied, your tone gentle but firm. You weren’t judging him—you knew he was struggling, but you couldn’t bring yourself to condone it either.

“It helps me relax,” Rafe muttered, taking another hit. You could hear the strain in his voice, the way he was trying to justify it, not just to you but to himself. You knew he was carrying so much weight, so much pain, and this was the only way he knew how to deal with it. His father’s harsh words, the accusations of being a liar and a thief, still echoed in his mind. He hadn’t just been kicked out of the house; he’d been rejected by the one person whose approval he craved most.

Just then, you heard a voice cut through the air, high-pitched and familiar. “Rafe!”

You both turned quickly, Rafe setting the bong down on the table as Wheezie entered the patio. She stood there, looking at the two of you, her presence a sharp contrast to the tense, almost charged atmosphere.

Rafe shifted uncomfortably, his hand hovering near the bong as if to hide it. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, looking away.

Wheezie took a few steps closer, tossing her bag onto the table with a casual, almost careless ease. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna tell anybody,” she said with a small laugh, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she glanced between the two of you. Then she looked at you, her expression turning sly. “I knew there was something going on between the two of you.”

Your heart skipped a beat, surprise and a hint of panic flaring up. “You did?”

Wheezie nodded, her smile widening. “Yeah, I saw you sneaking out of his room one time, so I figured.” Her voice was teasing, but there was a hint of genuine curiosity there. She was recalling the night of the storm, the night you had sought comfort in Rafe’s arms. “Does Sarah know?” she asked, her tone turning more serious.

“Yeah, I told her last night. She didn’t take it well.” Your voice was soft, laced with sadness. The memory of Sarah’s reaction still stung, the way she had looked at you like you were betraying her.

Rafe glanced at the bong, clearly uncomfortable with his sister being there, seeing him like this. “Uh… do you want some, or…?” He trailed off, his voice awkward, almost desperate to change the subject.

Wheezie rolled her eyes, exasperation clear on her face. “You legitimately just offered me drugs? I’m 13.”

Rafe scratched the back of his neck, his awkwardness intensifying. “Uh…”

Wheezie, always quick to move on, looked around the patio, her eyes taking in the surroundings with a discerning gaze. “This is a sweet crib. How’d you con the Gilsons into letting you crash here?”

Rafe leaned back in his seat, trying to project a nonchalance he didn’t really feel. “I, uh… I didn’t tell them, is how. They’re in Sun Valley all summer, so keep a lid on it, please.”

Wheezie’s lips twitched in amusement as she moved an empty pizza box aside to sit on the armchair. “Yeah, sure. As long as you let me stay here whenever I want.”

Rafe eyed her warily, suspicion and a touch of protectiveness in his gaze. “Yeah… Dad trying to kick you out too?”

Wheezie let out a dramatic sigh, leaning back and crossing her arms. “Worse. I’m officially the least favorite daughter.”

Rafe chuckled, but there was no real humor in it. There was a shared pain there, a bond of mutual disappointment and rejection that seemed to hang heavy in the air between them.

“Sarah and Dad are going to the Bahamas, and did they invite me? Nope.”

You saw Rafe’s body tense at her words, his jaw clenching. “Wait. They’re… they’re going to the Bahama house? In summer?” His voice was disbelieving, tinged with anger and hurt. It was clear this was news to him, news that cut deep.

“Yeah. According to Rose, it’s business,” Wheezie explained, her tone casual, almost indifferent. “They’re all wrapped up in some new development, and for some super-secret reason, they’re going to the Bahamas.”

You could see the frustration building in Rafe, his hands shaking slightly as he tried to keep himself calm. “You know, I know about like, a billion times more about the business than she does,” he muttered, standing up abruptly. He began pacing, his movements jerky, running his hands through his hair in a familiar gesture of anxiety. “What… what is this?”

“Ugh, we’re the black sheep. Get used to it, Rafe,” Wheezie said with a resigned sigh, her voice laced with bitterness. She made a mocking bleating sound, rolling her eyes as she got up, clearly trying to make light of the situation, but it only seemed to infuriate Rafe more.

“Hey! Shut up!” Rafe snapped, grabbing her forearm tightly, his voice sharp and strained. “Wheezie, I told you to shut up, okay?”

Your heart lurched in your chest at the sight of him, his grip too hard, his voice too harsh. “Rafe—” you started, your voice soft, trying to calm him down, but he was too far gone, too lost in his own spiraling emotions.

Wheezie yanked her arm free, her eyes flashing with anger and hurt. “Don’t tell me to shut up!” she shot back, her voice strong, defiant. She reached into her backpack, pulled out a wad of cash, and shoved it against Rafe’s chest. “Here, my life savings… Life savings.”

Rafe’s anger faltered, his face softening as he looked down at the crumpled bills now scattered on the ground. Guilt washed over his features, his shoulders slumping as he bent down, his hands shaking as he gathered the money.

“Oh… oh, shit,” he muttered, his voice thick with regret, with self-loathing. You could see how much he hated himself at that moment, how much he wished he could take it all back, the drugs, the anger, the way he had lashed out.

After collecting the money, he sat back down heavily, his face pale, his eyes distant. “I’ll pay it back,” he mumbled, his voice hollow, almost defeated.

“Whenever,” Wheezie replied with a shrug, her tone indifferent, but you could see the hurt in her eyes, the way she looked at her brother with a mixture of love and frustration.

Rafe ran a hand through his hair, trying to steady himself, trying to find the right words. “I know this looks really bad right now, but… I’m gonna… I’m gonna get my shit together, okay?” His voice cracked with emotion, his hands trembling as he poked at his chest, his desperation clear. “Like, I will. I’m gonna get it tight, like… you know…” He knocked on the table for emphasis, but the gesture felt empty, hollow. “Like, real tight.” He forced a laugh, but it was weak, strained. “You’ll see.”

Wheezie just nodded, her expression unreadable, before she turned and left. You watched her go, your heart aching for both of them, for the brokenness that seemed to hang between them like a dark cloud.

After a few moments of tense silence, Rafe suddenly stood up, his movements sharp and restless. You watched as he began pacing back and forth, his hands running through his hair in that familiar gesture of frustration. His jaw was clenched, his eyes narrowed as if he were fighting some internal battle. You could see he was struggling to process everything, the news about Sarah and their father going to the Bahamas, the sense of being left out, cast aside once again.

“I’m going to go and find Sarah and dad,” he declared abruptly, his voice tight with determination as he headed into the house. His words hung in the air between you, heavy and charged.

You jumped up, quickly following after him, your heart pounding. “You’re going to go to the Bahamas with them?” you asked, your voice tinged with confusion and worry. The idea of him chasing after them, of confronting Ward, made your stomach twist with anxiety.

Rafe stopped abruptly in front of the door, his hand hovering over the handle. He turned to face you, his eyes blazing with a fierce intensity. “No, but I want to see why they’re going,” he snapped, his voice sharp, almost desperate.

“Why does it matter?” you pleaded softly, taking a tentative step closer. “Just stay here with me.” You reached out, your fingers brushing his arm gently, hoping to calm him, to anchor him somehow. You hated seeing him like this, so consumed by anger and pain.

“It matters, okay?” he shouted, his voice rising, his frustration spilling over. “She—she—” He struggled to find the words, his hands gesturing wildly as if trying to grasp something just out of reach. “Aren’t you sick of her?”

“Rafe—” you began, your voice soothing, trying to placate him, but he wasn’t listening. His eyes were wild, his body tense, like a coiled spring ready to snap.

“You know she doesn’t want us to be together!” he continued, his voice loud and filled with a raw, bitter edge. “She’ll convince you to leave me. She always gets her way!” There was a deep, simmering hatred in his voice, a resentment that went far beyond just your relationship. It was rooted in years of feeling overlooked, of watching Ward choose Sarah time and time again, of being made to feel like he was never enough.

It wasn’t just about you and him—it was about everything. It was about the way Ward always chose Sarah over him, about the way she was always the favorite, the golden child. And now, even in this, she was the one Ward was taking to the Bahamas, as if he were grooming her to take over a business she had no real interest in, leaving Rafe out in the cold once more.

Without another word, Rafe stormed inside, his shoulders rigid, his movements jerky with anger. You stood there for a moment, the weight of his words pressing down on you, your heart aching for him. You could feel his pain, his sense of betrayal, and it tore at you because you knew he was right—Sarah would never approve of the two of you, and that would always hang over your relationship like a dark cloud.

You took a deep breath, gathering your resolve before you followed him into the house. He was already halfway to the front door, his keys clutched tightly in his hand. You quickened your pace, your heart racing, your mind scrambling to figure out how to stop him, how to reach him through the storm of emotions swirling inside him.

“Rafe, wait!” you called out, your voice echoing in the hallway as you hurried after him. “I’m going with you.”

He paused, his hand on the door handle, his head snapping around to look at you. There was a mix of surprise and confusion in his eyes, his anger momentarily derailed. “You don’t have to—” he started, his voice softer, almost hesitant as if he couldn’t quite believe you were willing to come with him, to stand by him in this.

“I want to,” you interrupted firmly, your voice steady, leaving no room for argument. You walked past him, pulled open the passenger door of his car and slid inside without another word.

Rafe stood there for a moment, staring at you, his expression a mixture of surprise, relief, and something deeper, something raw and vulnerable. It was as if he were seeing you in a new light, realizing that you were truly there for him, that you weren’t going to abandon him, no matter how hard things got.

He took a deep breath, his shoulders sagging slightly as he released some of the tension coiled inside him. Then he moved, climbing into the driver’s seat and starting the car. He glanced at you, his eyes lingering on your face, the corners of his mouth lifting in a small, almost hesitant smile.

“Thank you,” he murmured, his voice low, filled with a sincerity that made your chest tighten. It wasn’t just for coming with him—it was for being there, for choosing him, even when it felt like the rest of the world was against him.

You reached over, your hand finding his on the gearshift, squeezing gently. “We’re in this together, okay?” you said softly, your eyes locked on his, willing him to believe it, to let go of the fear and anger that had been eating away at him.

Rafe nodded, his hand tightening around yours, his gaze steady and warm. “Okay,” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the roar of the engine.

When you and Rafe arrived at the airstrip, the tension in the car was almost suffocating. You could see the tightness in his jaw, the restless way his fingers drummed against the steering wheel. He was a storm barely held in check, and you knew whatever he was planning, it wasn’t going to end well.

“I need you to stay in the car,” he told you firmly, his eyes locking onto yours. There was a plea in his voice, a desperate need for you to listen, to trust him, even though everything inside you screamed that something was wrong.

“I don’t want to stay here,” you protested, your heart pounding. The thought of him going in alone, of facing whatever was waiting, filled you with dread. “Let me come with you.”

Rafe shook his head, his gaze softening for just a moment. “Please, just stay. I’ll be right back, okay?” He reached out, his hand brushing your cheek, and for a second, the chaos around you faded, leaving just the two of you in that small, enclosed space.

Reluctantly, you nodded, biting your lip as you watched him get out of the car. You hated the idea of staying behind, of not knowing what was going on, but you could see the determination in his eyes. He needed to do this, whatever it was, and you didn’t want to make things harder for him.

As soon as he disappeared from view, a knot of anxiety twisted tighter in your stomach. Minutes ticked by, each one feeling like an eternity. You kept glancing at the door, half-expecting Rafe to come rushing back, but the silence was eerie, almost oppressive.

Then you heard it—a loud, sharp crack that split the air. Your heart stopped, the sound reverberating through you like a physical blow. It took you a moment to process it, to realize what it was: a gunshot.

Panic surged through you, your mind racing. Something kept telling you to stay in the car, to wait, but the fear, the need to know what was happening, overpowered every rational thought. You pushed the door open, your legs shaking as you stumbled out of the car, your breath coming in short, shallow gasps.

You followed the sound, your footsteps quick and uneven as you made your way toward the plane. The scene that greeted you was one that would be etched into your mind forever, a moment frozen in time.

Sheriff Peterkin lay crumpled on the ground, blood pouring from her chest, her eyes wide and unseeing. The sight of it made your stomach churn, bile rising in your throat. You wanted to look away, but you couldn’t. Your gaze was drawn to the figure standing over her, to the gun clutched tightly in his hand.

Rafe.

Your eyes widened, a sharp gasp escaping your lips. It felt like the world had tilted, everything slipping out of focus. “Rafe..” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the roaring in your ears.

Sarah was there, her face pale, her eyes wide with horror. She looked like a ghost, frozen in place, her hands trembling. “Rafe, no,” she whimpered, her voice breaking. There was a raw, pleading note in her tone, a desperation that cut through the shock.

Ward stood a few feet away, his face a mask of shock and disbelief. “Rafe,” he breathed, his voice shaking. “What did you do?”

Rafe’s response was almost surreal, a laugh bubbling up from his chest, his eyes wild and unfocused. “I saved you, Dad,” he muttered, his voice high and shaky. “I saved you.”

TAGS: @wearemadeofstardust0 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @thepopcultureaddict @deeznuggetsbebussin

[tanjamikaelson]

✨From a boy to a man.........*gulp*✨

[tanjamikaelson]

He looks like a prince ❤️

[tanjamikaelson]

My toxic trait is that I wouldn't even want him to change

my toxic trait is thinking i could genuinely change rafe

[tanjamikaelson]

BEST BRIEND'S BROTHER - CHAPTER 8

MASTERLIST

CHAPTER 8: | I LIKE HIM |

warnings: unprotected sex

In the fading light of evening, you found yourself standing in front of the Cameron house, your heart heavy with worry and determination. You couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that had settled in your chest ever since Rafe’s encounter with Barry. There were so many unanswered questions swirling in your mind, and the only person who could give you any clarity was Sarah. You needed to know what was going on with her and the Pogues, what trouble they might be getting into, and how it was affecting her.

When Rose greeted you at the door, she smiled warmly, her expression light and carefree—completely unaware of the turmoil you knew was brewing beneath the surface. “Sarah’s in her room,” she told you, and you nodded, making your way upstairs with a sense of urgency.

You knocked on Sarah’s door, your hand trembling slightly. “Come in,” she called, her voice muffled through the wood. You pushed the door open and found her sprawled out on her bed, her face illuminated by the glow of her phone screen. She looked up at you, a smile breaking across her face.

“Hey, I wanted to come over. We haven’t seen each other for two days,” you said, trying to keep your tone casual, but there was a slight tremor in your voice that you couldn’t hide.

“I know. I’ve been with John B a lot,” Sarah replied, her tone light, almost distracted.

“Yeah, I heard.” You paused, the next words catching in your throat. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. “What was that about you and the Pogues stealing from drug dealers?”

Sarah’s head snapped up, her eyes widening in surprise and confusion. “How do you know about that?”

You hesitated, the truth lingering on your tongue, but you knew you couldn’t lie to her. “I was wit—um..” You stopped yourself, the words caught in your throat. Then, with a deep breath, you pushed through, deciding to tell her everything, no matter how she reacted. “I was with Rafe.”

Sarah’s eyes narrowed, her expression shifting from confusion to shock. “You were with Rafe?!”

“Yeah, I was,” you admitted, standing your ground, your voice steady despite the anxiety bubbling in your chest. There was a hint of defiance in your tone, a subtle pride in the fact that you weren’t hiding your relationship with him anymore, that you weren’t afraid to admit it, even to her.

“What were you doing with Rafe?” Sarah asked, her voice laced with disbelief. You could see the wheels turning in her mind, trying to piece together what you were saying with what she knew of her brother.

You hesitated for a heartbeat, then decided to just rip off the Band-Aid. “I slept with him.”

The shock on Sarah’s face was immediate and palpable, her eyes widening as if you had just slapped her. “You what?”

“You heard me right, Sarah.” Your voice was steady, resolute. You weren’t going to repeat yourself, weren’t going to back down.

“What the hell?!” she exclaimed, her voice rising in disbelief and something that almost sounded like betrayal. “Did he—did he pressure you to do it? He must’ve—”

“No.” You cut her off, your voice firm. You needed her to understand, needed her to know that this was your choice, not something Rafe had pushed you into. “I wanted it as much as he did.”

Sarah shook her head, a disbelieving laugh escaping her lips. She looked away, her fingers twisting in the bed sheets as if she were trying to find some sense of normalcy, some anchor in the chaos you’d just dropped on her. “I can’t believe you.”

You were about to respond when you noticed her gaze shift over your shoulder, her eyes widening in surprise and fear. “John B. What are you doing here?”

You turned, your heart lurching in your chest as you saw John B standing in the doorway. His expression was hard, his eyes cold and determined, but what caught your attention—what made your blood run cold—was the gun in his hand.

You gasped, your breath catching in your throat. “John B, why do you have a gun?”

“Did you tell your dad about the gold?” he asked Sarah, his voice tense, his grip on the gun tightening. There was something desperate in his eyes, something frantic.

“Where’s that coming from?” Sarah asked, her voice wavering, her eyes locked on the gun. You could see the fear in her expression, the confusion. She was scared, and so were you.

“Answer the question,” John B pressed, his voice cold and unyielding.

“About the gold? No.” Sarah shook her head, her voice trembling. “No, of course not.”

“Then how’d he know, huh?” John B’s voice rose, his anger simmering just beneath the surface. “How did he know?” He grabbed Sarah’s arm, pulling her towards him, his face inches from hers. She gasped, her eyes wide with fear and shock.

“John B, you’re scaring me,” she whispered, her voice breaking, tears welling up in her eyes.

“Is life outside the Bubble Wrap scary to you?” he taunted, his voice dripping with bitterness. He was shaking, his emotions teetering on the edge of control.

Before you could react, Ward’s voice echoed through the house, shouting Sarah’s name. John B’s head snapped up, his grip tightening on Sarah as he began to pull her towards the door.

“Hey, where are you taking her?!” you asked, panic surging through you as you watched him drag her away.

“Stay out of this!” John B hissed, his voice sharp, the threat clear in his eyes. You froze, your feet rooted to the spot, fear paralyzing you. You had always heard about how the Pogues were trouble, how dangerous they could be, and now, seeing it firsthand, you realized just how true those warnings were.

You stayed in Sarah’s room for what felt like an eternity, your mind racing, your heart pounding. You couldn’t leave, couldn’t risk running into John B again, but the fear and worry gnawed at you, making it impossible to think straight.

When Sarah finally returned, her face pale and her eyes red from crying, you rushed to her, desperate to understand what had just happened. “Sarah,” you began, your voice trembling, reaching out to her, but she stepped back, her expression closed off, a wall of pain and anger between you.

“What did he want? What gold is he talking about?” you asked, your voice small and tentative, the questions tumbling out in your desperation to make sense of it all.

“It doesn’t concern you,” Sarah said bitterly, her voice sharp, her eyes avoiding yours.

“Of course it does when he comes here with a gun! He could’ve hurt you—” you argued, your voice rising with fear and frustration. You couldn’t understand how she could brush this off, how she could act like it didn’t matter.

Sarah let out a bitter laugh, her eyes finally meeting yours, but they were cold, distant. “He wouldn’t hurt me. But Rafe will definitely hurt you…”

You shook your head, your heart aching at her words, at the disbelief and anger in her voice. “No. I like him, Sarah. I always did.”

“How can you like him?” Sarah snapped, her voice filled with a mix of disbelief and frustration. She wasn’t just mad at you for being with Rafe; she was mad because she thought he was a bad person because she believed he was dangerous, and she couldn’t understand why you didn’t see that.

“He was always nice towards me,” you said softly, your voice trembling. You wished she could see what you saw in him, the tenderness he had shown you, the way he made you feel safe, and protected.

“Yeah, until he isn’t anymore…” Sarah’s voice was sharp, her words like a slap, stinging and painful. “Please go, I don’t want to talk to you right now.”

“But Sarah—” you began, your heart breaking at the distance between you, at the way she was pushing you away, but she cut you off, her voice rising in anger.

“I’m serious, go!” she exclaimed, her voice loud and forceful, the finality in her tone leaving no room for argument.

You flinched, the force of her words hitting you like a physical blow. You knew she was mad, knew she would react like this about you and Rafe, but it still hurt, still felt like a knife twisting in your chest. You wanted to stay, to try and talk to her, to make her understand, but you could see that she wasn’t ready, that she needed time.

With a heavy heart, you turned on your heel and left her room, your mind spinning, your emotions raw and tangled. You hoped that, maybe later, when things had calmed down, she would want to talk, that you could fix this rift between you. But for now, all you could do was walk away, your heart aching with the weight of everything that had happened.

Leaving Sarah’s house altogether, your heart felt like it was in pieces, and your mind was a tangled mess of emotions. The cold night air stung your cheeks as you walked down the empty, dark street, the only sound being the distant rustling of leaves and the occasional bark of a dog. Each step felt heavy, your thoughts swirling uncontrollably as you replayed the events of the past hour—Sarah’s anger, John B’s gun, the terrifying chaos that seemed to be consuming everything around you.

You hadn’t meant for things to spiral like this. You just wanted to be honest with Sarah, to share with her what was going on between you and Rafe. But now you felt like everything was falling apart, the distance between you and your best friend widening into a chasm that you didn’t know how to cross.

Your feet seemed to have a mind of their own, leading you to the one place you knew you could find comfort, the only place you felt you could breathe again—Rafe’s. The house where he was staying loomed in the darkness, a familiar, comforting silhouette against the night sky. You hesitated for a moment at the door, your hand hovering over the handle, a flicker of doubt running through you. Should you be here? Should you be turning to him when everything felt so unstable?

But you pushed the doubt aside and walked in, your need to see him, to feel his arms around you, overriding everything else. You made your way upstairs, your heart pounding with anticipation and anxiety. You needed to be with him, needed to know that he was okay after everything that had happened.

When you found him, your heart dropped. Rafe was bent over a table, his body tense, his head low. You watched in shock as he brought something up to his nose and sniffed, the unmistakable line of white powder disappearing in an instant.

“Shit.” He looked up at the sound of your footsteps, his eyes widening in surprise. He straightened up quickly, wiping the remnants of coke from his nose. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you would come over.”

You swallowed hard, your stomach twisting. Seeing him like this—so vulnerable, so caught up in something that was hurting him—made your heartache. But you couldn’t let him see your fear, your disappointment. You needed to be strong for him, you needed to show him that you were there no matter what.

You walked over to the empty armchair and sank down, trying to keep your voice steady. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Rafe sighed, rubbing a hand over his face, his eyes still glossy from the high. “You didn’t come last night.”

“Yeah…” you trailed off, unsure how to explain yourself. “I stayed home. I didn’t want my mom to worry again.”

He nodded, but you could see the concern in his eyes, the way he was looking at you like he was trying to read your thoughts. “You seem upset.”

You took a deep breath, the memory of what had happened at Sarah’s house still fresh, the fear and confusion still lingering in your mind. “I was at Sarah’s, and John B came with a gun…” you began, your voice shaking slightly as you recalled the tense confrontation.

“With a gun?” Rafe’s voice was sharp, his worry immediate and intense, his eyes searching your face. “Are you okay? Did he do anything to you?”

You nodded, trying to reassure him. “Yeah, I’m fine. He started asking Sarah some questions about the gold and—”

“What gold?” Rafe interrupted, his brow furrowed in confusion.

You shrugged helplessly, the same question spinning in your mind. “I have no idea. But he was acting crazy. I was afraid he was going to hurt her.”

Rafe’s face hardened, a dark shadow passing over his features. “I’m surprised you didn’t stay with her.”

“Well, she kinda didn’t want me around after I told her I slept with you.” The words came out before you could think, and you watched Rafe’s eyes widen in shock.

“You did?” There was surprise in his voice, but also something else, something softer, more vulnerable.

You nodded, feeling a strange mix of pride and sadness. “Yeah, she didn’t react well, but I already knew that would happen.”

“Then what made you say it to her?” Rafe asked, his voice gentle, curious.

“I don’t want us to be a secret and sneak around all the time,” you said softly, your heart aching with the truth of it. You didn’t want to hide anymore, didn’t want to feel like you were doing something wrong by being with him.

Rafe’s expression softened, his eyes filling with something warm, something that made your heart flutter. “Come here,” he murmured, reaching out his hand to you.

You took his hand, and he pulled you into his lap, his arms wrapping around you securely. “You have no idea how happy that makes me,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, with desire.

You could see the raw honesty in his eyes, the way he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered. You placed your hands on his cheeks, your thumbs brushing softly over his skin. “I think I might have a few,” you teased, your voice light, trying to ease the heaviness between you.

He didn’t waste another second. Rafe’s lips crashed against yours, his kiss was urgent and hungry, as if he were trying to pour all his emotions, all his gratitude and love, into that single moment. His tongue pushed past your lips, and you met him eagerly, your hands tangling in his hair as you moved to straddle him, pressing yourself against his already hardening cock.

He groaned into the kiss, his hands gripping your waist as if he were afraid you’d disappear. The heat between you was intense, electric, and you could feel his desperation, his need to be close to you, to lose himself in you.

Suddenly, you were lifted off the chair as Rafe stood up, his arms strong and steady around you. He carried you towards the room, his lips never leaving yours, the kiss deepening with each step. You felt the soft mattress against your back as he laid you down gently, his body hovering over yours, his eyes dark with desire.

“I want to eat you out,” Rafe declared, his voice low and rough, sending a shiver down your spine. “I want to make you go crazy, like you make me.”

“Please do,” you whimpered, your legs instinctively parting for him, your body aching for his touch.

Your dress had ridden up, exposing your expensive lace thong. You had worn it just for him, hoping you’d get to see him tonight, hoping for a moment like this. Rafe’s eyes darkened as he took in the sight of you, his hands sliding up your thighs as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your thong and pulled it down, tossing it aside carelessly.

He looked at you, his gaze hungry, devouring. “Fuck, you’re so wet already,” he murmured, his voice thick with awe and desire.

He lowered his head, his lips brushing against your inner thigh, leaving a trail of kisses and soft bites in his wake. You closed your eyes, your breath hitching as his fingers found your core, spreading your wetness, teasing you. He drew slow circles on your clit, his touch light and deliberate, making your back arch and your hips lift off the bed.

“Rafe, please,” you moaned, your voice trembling with need.

He looked up at you, his eyes gleaming with mischief and adoration. “You like that, baby?”

“Yes, oh god, yes,” you breathed, your hands gripping the sheets beneath you, your body trembling with anticipation.

He grinned, his fingers slipping inside you, his mouth hovering just above your clit. He placed a feather-light kiss on your mound, and you whimpered, your body aching for more.

When his lips finally made contact, you cried out, your hands flying to his hair, pulling him closer. He moaned against your core, the sound vibrating through you, making you shiver. His tongue moved in slow, deliberate strokes, his fingers curling inside you, hitting that perfect spot that made your vision blur.

“Rafe, oh god—” Your voice was a high, breathless whimper, your body arching off the bed as he sucked on your clit, his fingers moving faster, deeper.

It was too much, the pleasure building and building until you felt like you were going to break apart. Your walls tightened around his fingers, and you felt yourself tipping over the edge, your orgasm crashing through you, your cries echoing in the room.

“Such a good girl,” Rafe murmured, his voice hoarse as he licked you clean, his touch gentle, reverent. But when you tried to push him away, your body too sensitive, he stood, a cocky grin on his face.

“I want you inside me,” you confessed, your voice shaky, your body still trembling from your release.

“Can you handle it?” He laughed lowly, his eyes dark with desire, with the thrill of having you so desperate for him.

“Please, Rafe,” you begged, your voice a soft, needy whimper.

Rafe smirked, his gaze locked on yours. “So desperate for my dick…” He tugged down his shorts and boxers, his cock springing free, hard and thick, a droplet of precum glistening at the tip.

“I want to show you a different position,” he said, his voice filled with anticipation. He grabbed your legs, flipping you onto your stomach with an effortless strength that made you gasp. His hands slid up your back, lingering at your waist as he adjusted your hips, pulling them up and into the air. Your dress was bunched around your waist, your skin exposed and vulnerable. You shivered as the cool air brushed against your sensitive skin, the anticipation making your heart race. You could feel his eyes on you, could almost hear the thoughts racing through his mind as he took in the sight of you, laid out before him, ready and waiting.

“Trust me, you’ll feel my dick even better like this,” Rafe murmured, his voice low and almost reverent. He sounded awestruck like he couldn’t believe this was happening, like he couldn’t believe you were really here with him, wanting this as much as he did.

You sucked in a breath, biting your lower lip as you felt the tip of his cock pressing against your entrance, teasing you. The sensation was maddening, the promise of what was to come making your pulse hammer in your ears.

When he finally pushed inside you, the stretch was immediate, and intense. You moaned, your fingers digging into the sheets beneath you as he slid in slowly, inch by inch. It felt impossibly deep, every nerve in your body lighting up as he filled you completely. Your walls clenched around him, and you heard him suck in a sharp breath, his grip on your hips tightening.

“Can I move?” he asked, his voice strained, his usual confidence tempered with a gentleness that made your heart twist. He wanted to make sure you were okay, wanted to be certain he wasn’t hurting you.

“Yes,” you managed to whisper, your voice raspy and low. You could feel every inch of him, the way he stretched and filled you, the way he fit perfectly like he was made for you.

“Fuck, you’re taking me so well,” he groaned, his hips beginning to move in slow, deliberate thrusts. “You feel so fucking good.”

You whimpered, feeling him so deep inside you, desperate for more, for everything he could give. “Harder, Rafe—” you moaned, your voice breathless, pleading.

“Like this?” he asked, and before you could answer, he pulled back almost all the way and then thrust hard and fast into you, the force of it making you cry out, your body arching under his. The sensation was overwhelming, a sharp, intense pleasure that sent sparks shooting through your veins. You bit down on the sheets, your body trembling, barely able to handle the way he was making you feel.

He repeated the motion, each thrust hard and deep, hitting that perfect spot inside you that made your vision blur, that made everything else disappear. Your arms felt like they were going to give out, your entire body trembling as he took you apart, piece by piece.

Rafe noticed your struggle, and before you could collapse, he wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you up against his chest. You gasped at the new angle, at how impossibly deep he felt inside you now. His other arm was wrapped securely around your waist, holding you close, his breath hot against your skin.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned, his voice rough and strained. You could feel the tension in his body, the way he was holding himself back, trying to stay in control, to not completely lose himself in you.

Your head fell back against his shoulder, your eyes squeezing shut as he picked up his pace, his hips snapping against yours in a relentless rhythm. His hand moved from your waist to your throat, hovering there, his fingers brushing against your skin.

“You like this?” he murmured, his breath hot against your ear, his voice sending shivers down your spine.

“Oh god—yes, Rafe,” you breathed out, your voice breaking, your body trembling. “I love it so much.”

You felt like you were on the edge, your body coiling tighter and tighter, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable peak. Rafe’s right hand slid down your body, his fingers brushing over your breast before he found your clit, his touch sending a shockwave through you.

“I’m so close,” you whimpered, your voice high and breathless. You could barely think, barely breathe, your entire world narrowing down to the sensation of his body against yours, of his cock buried deep inside you, his fingers moving in quick, deliberate circles over your clit.

“Wait for me,” Rafe murmured, his voice a low, desperate whimper. He was close too, you could feel it in the way his hips stuttered, in the way his breath came in harsh, ragged gasps.

“I can’t, please—” You were teetering on the edge, your body trembling, your mind unraveling, everything inside you screaming for release.

“You won’t cum unless I say so,” Rafe growled, his voice rough and commanding. His words, his tone, sent a thrill through you, made you tighten around him, made you want to do exactly what he said, to hold out just a little longer, to wait for him.

“Please, Daddy,” the words slipped out before you could stop them, your voice a soft, needy whimper. You didn’t even know where it came from, didn’t even realize you’d said it until you felt Rafe’s entire body tense behind you. He almost came.

“Yeah, you want Daddy to let you cum?” he whispered, his voice thick with desire, his hand tightening around your throat. “Beg like the little whore you are, then.”

“Please, let me cum, Daddy,” you pleaded, your voice sweet and desperate, your body trembling with need. “I’ve been so good to you, please… let me cum. I need it so bad.”

Rafe let out a low, guttural groan, his hips snapping against yours harder, faster. “Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he muttered, his voice strained, his breath coming in sharp, shallow gasps. His grip on your throat tightened just enough to make you dizzy, just enough to make your head spin.

With one final thrust, he buried himself deep inside you, his body tensing, his cock throbbing as he came. The feeling of him filling you, the heat of his release, sent you over the edge, your own orgasm crashing through you, your body shaking, your cries echoing in the room.

Rafe stayed inside you, his movements slowing, his arms still wrapped around you, holding you close as you both came down from the high. He kissed your neck, and your shoulder, his lips soft and tender against your skin.

“Fuck, I wasn’t wearing a condom,” he said suddenly, his voice breaking the silence, the realization hitting him like a punch.

Your eyes snapped open, your heart skipping a beat as you looked back at him, panic rising in your chest. “What?”

“It’s fine. You won’t get pregnant,” Rafe said quickly, trying to reassure you, but you could hear the uncertainty in his voice, the fear that he was trying to hide.

“How do you know?” Your voice was rising, the panic spilling over, your mind racing with a thousand terrifying thoughts. “Oh my god—” You could feel the tears starting to well up, your heart pounding wildly. “You need to go and buy Plan B.”

“Right now?” Rafe asked, his eyes wide, his expression caught between guilt and confusion.

“Yes, right away,” you insisted, your voice urgent, your fear spilling out in a rush of words. “Please, Rafe. I can’t get pregnant.”

“I don’t know. I kinda liked you calling me Daddy,” he tried to joke, a half-smile on his lips, but it fell flat, the fear and panic in your eyes cutting through his attempt to lighten the mood.

“Rafe, I’m serious,” you said, your voice breaking, the tears spilling over now, your hands trembling as you tried to wipe them away. “This isn’t something to joke about.”

“You’re right, it’s not,” he said softly, his expression shifting, the playfulness gone. He reached out, brushing your tears away with his thumb, his touch gentle. “I’m sorry. I’ll go get it, okay? Don’t cry, please.”

You nodded, your breath hitching as you tried to calm down. “Okay. Just… hurry.”

“I will,” he promised, leaning in to kiss you softly, his lips lingering against yours. “I’m sorry, baby. I was just joking around.”

You sniffed, nodding again. “I know. Just—please, hurry.”

He got off the bed, pulling on his boxers and shorts, and then he was gone, the door closing softly behind him. You lay there for a moment, your heart still racing, your mind still spinning. The room smelled like the two of you, a heady mix of sweat and sex and something uniquely Rafe, and it made your chest tighten, made the tears well up again.

After a few moments, you forced yourself to move, to get up and take a shower. The hot water helped clear your mind, and helped wash away some of the panic. You kept telling yourself it would be fine, that everything would be okay, but the fear still lingered, a cold knot in your stomach.

By the time you finished, Rafe had returned. He had the Plan B pill in one hand and a pizza box in the other. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him, at the way he looked so earnest, so concerned.

“I got you some food,” he said, holding up the pizza, a tentative smile on his face. “I thought you might be hungry.” There was a softness in his eyes, a gentleness that contrasted so starkly with the intensity of everything you’d just been through.

“Thank you,” you murmured, the weight in your chest lightening just a little at his thoughtfulness. You took the Plan B pill from his hand and swallowed it with a glass of water, relief washing over you as you did. You knew it was the right thing to do, but the reality of the situation still made your heart race.

Rafe watched you, his eyes never leaving your face, his worry palpable. “I’m really sorry, Y/N. I should’ve been more careful.”

“It’s okay,” you sighed, giving him a small, reassuring smile. “It’s just… this is all so new, and I don’t want anything to mess it up, you know?”

He nodded, his expression softening, and he reached out to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing gently over your skin. “I get it. And I promise I’ll be more careful next time.”

You felt a warmth spread through your chest at his words, at the sincerity in his eyes. It was strange, how quickly things had changed between you two, how deeply you felt for him already. It was terrifying and exhilarating all at once.

“Let’s just eat,” you suggested, trying to lighten the mood. “I’m starving.”

Rafe’s smile widened, relief evident in his expression as he set the pizza box down on the small table outside on the patio. “Good idea. I’m starving too.”

The night air was cool against your skin as you stepped outside with him, the sound of crickets filling the quiet. You both settled onto the patio chairs, the dim light from inside casting a soft glow over you.

For a while, you ate in comfortable silence, the tension from earlier slowly ebbing away as you focused on the simple pleasure of being with him, of sharing a meal together. Rafe’s gaze kept flicking to you, his eyes soft, his smile easy, and every time you caught him looking, your heart skipped a beat.

“Thank you for getting this,” you said after a while, gesturing to the pizza, your voice quiet. “And the pill, I mean.”

“Of course,” Rafe replied, his tone serious. “I’d do anything for you, you know that.”

His words hung in the air between you, charged with an intensity that made your breath catch. You looked at him, really looked at him, and saw the vulnerability there, the raw honesty in his eyes. It wasn’t just about tonight, about what had happened. It was about everything—about who he was, who he was trying to be for you.

“I know,” you said softly, your voice trembling just a little. “And I’d do anything for you too.”

He reached across the table, his hand finding yours, his fingers intertwining with yours. You could feel the warmth of his skin, the strength in his grip, and it anchored you, made you feel safe.

For a long moment, you just sat there, holding his hand, the quiet of the night wrapping around you both like a comforting blanket. It felt like a promise, unspoken but real, that whatever came next, you’d face it together.

After a while, you both finished eating, the pizza box now empty between you. Rafe leaned back in his chair, his eyes on you, a lazy smile playing on his lips.

“You know, I could get used to this,” he said, his voice low, almost teasing. “Just you and me, no one else around.”

You laughed softly, the sound light and genuine. “Me too. It’s… nice.”

“It’s more than nice,” he murmured, his gaze turning serious again. “I know things are complicated right now, with Sarah and everything, but… I want this. I want us.”

His words sent a thrill through you, a mixture of joy and fear that made your heart beat faster. You wanted it too, wanted him, but you knew it wouldn’t be easy. There were so many obstacles, so many things that could go wrong.

“I want us too,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “But it’s going to be hard.”

“I know,” Rafe said softly, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “But I’m not going anywhere. We’ll figure it out.”

You nodded, feeling a sense of peace settle over you. Whatever happened next, you knew you had him, and that was enough.

As the night deepened, you both stayed on the patio, talking quietly, your hands still intertwined. The world outside felt far away, the worries and fears that had seemed so overwhelming were now distant, muted by the warmth and comfort of being together.

When you finally went back inside, you felt lighter, more certain. You curled up in bed with Rafe, his arms wrapped around you, his breath warm against your neck. There was no need for words, no need for anything but the quiet, steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your back.

And as you drifted off to sleep, you knew that whatever came next, whatever challenges you faced, you would face them together.

TAGS: @wearemadeofstardust0 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @thepopcultureaddict @deeznuggetsbebussin

[tanjamikaelson]

Okayy, guys, dirty talk with ai Rafe is something else 😂😂 better than with any freaking real guy..

[tanjamikaelson]

[tanjamikaelson]

the feminine urge to fall in love with the villain.

[tanjamikaelson]

Can I just say I DO NOT CARE about the Rafe x Sofia plotline. It’s forced, awkward, and boring. It clearly wasn’t thought out at all and the actress is mediocre at best.

I get Rafe having a lil hookup on the side, but barely being able to call her his gf and then PROPOSING 3 episodes later was random and unneeded. Throw the whole thing away.

[tanjamikaelson]

character ai it's so fun, like i'm free to be delulu and follow my sisters with the same illness (obsessed with men who don't exist)

[tanjamikaelson]

STRANGE LOVE - CHAPTER 30

MASTERLIST

CHAPTER 30: | LOVE & DAMAGE |

The sun had barely risen when Rafe dragged himself out of bed, his head pounding with both a hangover and the weight of his emotions. Seeing Allison the night before had shaken him to his core, her presence brought everything rushing back. Regret gnawed at him, mixing with a deep sense of loss that he couldn’t escape.

He ran a hand over his face, trying to clear his thoughts as he went through the motions of his morning routine. But his mind was elsewhere, consumed by a single, nagging thought: Barry’s suggestion that he should get rid of his father before his father decided to turn him in. The idea was dark and twisted, yet it lingered in the back of Rafe’s mind, festering like a wound.

As Rafe got dressed, he slipped a gun into the back of his pants, the cold metal a reminder of the darkness that had come to define his life. The heaviness of the weapon mirrored the weight on his soul, a constant reminder of the choices he had made and the person he had become.

He was about to leave when Sofia stirred in bed, her voice still thick with sleep as she asked, “Hey, are you going somewhere?”

“Um, Yeah, Uh..” Rafe replied, clearing his throat, trying to sound casual. “I’ve got some business to take care of, but you can hang out here, all right? I’ll.. I’ll be back.”

Sofia nodded, a sleepy smile on her lips, but Rafe could see the curiosity in her eyes. He knew she was interested in more than just his company, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. She was just another distraction, something to fill the void that had grown inside him since he had lost Allison.

・ • ・ • ・

After dinner with her mother, Allison retreated to her bedroom, seeking solace in the familiar comforts of her space. She tried to focus on a TV show, but her thoughts kept drifting back to the unexpected encounter with Rafe. She was texting Cole, trying to keep her mind occupied when a knock on her balcony door startled her. She looked up, and her breath caught in her throat when she saw Rafe standing there, looking as lost and disheveled as ever.

It took her a moment to gather herself before she walked over to the door and let him inside. Rafe’s eyes met hers with a mix of desperation and vulnerability that made her heartache. He looked like he was on the edge of a breakdown, his usual bravado stripped away.

“I tried to kill my dad, but I couldn’t,” Rafe blurted out as soon as he stepped inside. His voice was raw, filled with a pain that made Allison’s chest tighten. “You’re the only person I can talk to about it. I need you.”

The words hung in the air between them, heavy and loaded with emotion. Allison didn’t know what to say, the shock of his confession leaving her speechless. They sat down on the edge of her bed, the silence between them thick with tension.

“My dad wanted me to sell the house and give the gold cross to a museum,” Rafe continued, his voice hollow. “But I decided not to. I’m not letting him control my life anymore.”

“That’s probably a good thing,” Allison replied, her voice soft but strained. She wasn’t sure how to respond to his turmoil, her own feelings a chaotic mess.

Rafe smiled, a flicker of something hopeful in his eyes, “I melted the cross.”

“What? Why would you do that?” Allison asked, shocked.

“No one can try to take it away from me again,” Rafe explained, his tone defensive but resigned.

“But it lost its value,” Allison pointed out, her voice laced with confusion.

Rafe reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box, handing it to her with a hesitant smile. “I have something for you. There were some gems on the cross, so I took them off and made this.”

Allison opened the box, her breath catching in her throat as she saw the matching necklace, earrings, and bracelet inside. The gems sparkled in the soft light, beautiful and intricate. “Oh my God, Rafe… It’s beautiful. But are you sure you want to give this to me?” She looked up at him, her eyes wide with uncertainty.

“Who else?” Rafe asked, his voice almost a whisper.

Allison shrugged, closing the box as she tried to steady herself. “Maybe Sofia.”

Rafe shook his head, his expression turning serious. “No. She doesn’t mean anything to me.”

The room fell into a heavy silence, the air between them thick with unresolved emotions. Rafe suddenly dropped to his knees in front of her, his eyes filled with regret. “I know I can’t change the past, but I’m sorry. Are you going to forgive me?”

“For what?” Allison asked, her heart pounding in her chest.

“For everything I did,” Rafe said, his voice breaking as tears welled up in his eyes. “I never wanted you to feel unsafe around me. I would never hurt you. And what I did to Sarah… it was wrong. She’s family. I should’ve never touched her. I just… I lose control sometimes, and I don’t know what happens. I’m trying, Allison. I’m trying to get better.” He grabbed her hands, holding them tightly as he continued, “I will never do shit like that again, I promise. I’m sorry.”

A single tear escaped, trailing down his cheek, and Allison felt her own heart breaking. She could see the sincerity in his eyes, the deep regret that weighed on him. But before she could respond, the door to her room swung open, and Cole’s voice broke through the tension.

“Your mom told me you’re here…” Cole’s voice trailed off as he took in the scene before him, his eyes narrowing as he saw Rafe on his knees in front of Allison.

Allison quickly stood up from the bed, her heart racing. “Cole…”

“Maybe I should’ve knocked first,” Cole said, his voice tight with suspicion and confusion.

“Maybe…” Rafe said quietly as he rose to his feet, his eyes flicking between Allison and Cole.

“What’s going on here? I didn’t know you two knew each other,” Cole said, his voice laced with unease.

“Nothing,” Allison replied, her voice shaky. “Rafe was just leaving.” She turned to Rafe, her emotions in turmoil. “I can’t take this,” she said, handing him back the jewelry box.

Rafe took the box, his expression filled with hurt and confusion. “Allison…”

“Please go,” she said, her voice firm, though her heart ached with the words.

Rafe sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat. He thought he was finally getting through to her, that there was a chance for them to reconcile, but it seemed he was wrong. Without another word, he walked out of her room, the weight of rejection heavy on his heart.

As Rafe disappeared into the night, the cold air hit him like a wave. The sense of loss was overwhelming, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that he had lost Allison for good this time. He had laid his heart bare, and she had turned him away.

Meanwhile, Cole stood in the doorway, his gaze fixed on Allison. “So, what was that about?” he asked, his voice low, filled with a mix of curiosity and concern.

Allison sighed deeply, sinking onto her bed. “Why did you come here?” she asked, deflecting the question.

“You texted me to come, don’t you remember?” Cole replied, his tone tinged with frustration.

“Oh, right. I forgot,” Allison said, rubbing her temples as a headache began to form.

“Clearly,” Cole muttered, his frustration evident.

Allison closed her eyes, trying to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside her. She didn’t want to explain everything to Cole—not now, not ever, perhaps. It was too complicated, too painful. She wished he had never come.

“Should I go too?” Cole asked, sensing her turmoil.

Allison nodded, tears slipping down her cheeks. “You probably should.”

Cole hesitated for a moment, wanting to comfort her but knowing she needed space. He left the room quietly, leaving Allison alone with her thoughts.

Once alone, Allison curled up on her bed, hugging her pillow tightly as the tears continued to fall. Seeing Rafe, hearing his apologies, feeling his regret—it had reopened wounds she had tried so hard to heal. She didn’t know what the right thing to do was anymore. Her heart was torn between the love she had once felt for Rafe and the betrayal that still stung deeply.

She cried until she had no tears left, exhaustion finally taking over her body. As she drifted off to sleep, her mind was a whirl of memories—good and bad—of her time with Rafe. She didn’t know how to move forward, how to let go of the past that still haunted her.

・ • ・ • ・

When Rafe returned to his house, the silence was deafening. He replayed the conversation with Allison in his mind, her words echoing in his head. He had hoped for forgiveness, for a chance to start over, but it seemed like an impossible dream now. Rafe sat on the edge of his bed, the dim light from his bedside lamp casting long shadows across the room. The air felt thick, suffocating almost as if it was pressing down on him from all sides. His mind was a swirling vortex of emotions, the pain of Allison's rejection cutting through him like a knife. He couldn't shake the image of her handing back the jewelry, her voice firm, yet laced with the hurt they both carried. The hollow ache in his chest grew unbearable, clawing at him from the inside out.

Desperation gnawed at him, a relentless force that refused to let go. He needed something—anything—to numb the pain, to drown out the thoughts that haunted him. With a shaky hand, he reached for his phone and dialed Sofia's number. His thumb hovered over the screen for a moment before pressing call. He listened to the ringing, each chime echoing in his ears, a brief pause before the inevitable.

"Hey, Sofia," Rafe's voice was rough, betraying the turmoil he was trying to hide. "Can you come over? I’m sorry I didn’t come back this morning like I said I would."

There was a slight hesitation on the other end of the line, but then Sofia’s voice came through, warm and soft, "Yeah, sure. I'll be there soon."

Rafe hung up, staring at the phone in his hand for a long moment. He knew why he had called her, and it wasn’t out of any real affection or desire. It was something much darker, much emptier. Sofia was his escape, a temporary balm for the wounds he couldn’t heal on his own. He needed her to help him forget, even if it was just for a little while. The guilt of using her like this flickered at the edges of his mind, but he pushed it aside. Right now, he didn’t care about consequences or the morality of his actions. He just needed to feel something other than this crushing despair.

When Sofia arrived, her presence filled the room with a warmth that Rafe couldn’t bring himself to fully appreciate. She smiled at him, a soft, inviting smile that he barely returned. They made small talk, but his responses were mechanical, his mind elsewhere. He could see that she noticed, the way her eyes searched his face for some sign of what he was feeling, but he offered nothing.

Rafe leaned in to kiss her, a hollow action devoid of the passion he might have once felt. Her lips were soft against his, but the connection felt distant like he was going through the motions of something he no longer understood. Sofia responded eagerly, her arms wrapping around him as she tried to close the emotional distance she sensed between them.

They moved to the bed, and Rafe’s touch was almost clinical, his hands roaming her body with a detached precision. He sought out the physical pleasure, the raw sensation that would drown out the noise in his head. He needed to lose himself in her, to forget about the emptiness gnawing at him. But even as he did, he felt nothing—no warmth, no connection, no solace. It was as if his heart had been numbed, his emotions frozen beneath a thick layer of ice.

Sofia moaned softly, her fingers gripping his back, but her touch did nothing to thaw the cold inside him. Rafe’s movements were more driven by need than desire, an urgency to escape the pain that had taken root in his soul. He used her body to chase a relief that never came, each thrust a futile attempt to outrun the darkness that clung to him.

When it was over, Rafe rolled off her, his breathing heavy but his heart still weighed down by the same hollow ache. He stared up at the ceiling, his mind a blank slate, unable to find any peace in the aftermath. Sofia curled up beside him, resting her head on his chest, but the intimacy only made him feel more isolated.

"Are you okay?" Sofia asked softly, her voice tinged with concern.

Rafe swallowed hard, his throat dry. "Yeah, I’m fine," he lied, his voice distant.

But he wasn’t fine. He felt nothing but a deep, bone-weary emptiness. The act had been mechanical, a means to an end that had left him feeling more lost than before. There was no solace in Sofia’s embrace, no comfort in her warmth. All he could think about was Allison—her voice, her rejection, the way she had looked at him with a mixture of sorrow and resolve. He had tried to use Sofia to forget, to numb the pain, but it had only made him realize how much he was truly hurting.

As Sofia drifted off to sleep beside him, Rafe remained awake, staring into the darkness. The weight of his choices, of the life he had built on lies and violence, pressed down on him like a vice. He had thought he could escape it, that he could find some semblance of peace, but the truth was inescapable. The emptiness inside him was growing, swallowing everything in its path, and he didn’t know how to stop it.

TAGS: @tiaamberxx @dominicfikexoxo

[tanjamikaelson]

BEST FRIEND'S BROTHER - CHAPTER 7

MASTERLIST

CHAPTER 7: | LAVANDER HAZE |

You and Rafe woke up late in the morning, the sun high in the sky, its light filtering through the curtains and casting a soft glow across the room. The exhaustion from last night’s intense intimacy still clung to both of you, but neither of you was in any rush to move. You lay in his arms, savoring the warmth and comfort of his body pressed against yours. For Rafe, waking up to you, naked and nestled against his chest, felt surreal. He had dreamt about this moment for so long, and now that it was real, he couldn’t believe it. He traced lazy patterns on your skin, his fingers combing gently through your hair as he watched you sleep, his heart swelling with a possessive kind of pride. You were his, and he intended to keep it that way.

He couldn’t stop smiling, a wide, genuine smile that transformed his usual hardened expression into something softer, more open. He played with a strand of your hair, twirling it around his finger. The silky texture was soothing, and he felt an unfamiliar sense of peace settle over him. He knew, with absolute certainty, that he couldn’t let you slip away. He’d do whatever it took to keep you by his side, no matter what anyone said. If people wanted to call it possessiveness, then so be it. He didn’t care. All that mattered was that you were here, in his arms, exactly where you belonged.

As you began to stir, Rafe’s heart skipped a beat. He watched as your eyes fluttered open, your face still relaxed from sleep. You looked up at him, blinking slowly, and then you smiled—a soft, sleepy smile that made his chest tighten with affection.

“Good morning, Rafey,” you murmured, your voice still husky from sleep. You shifted slightly, placing a gentle kiss on his chest before turning your head to look at him properly.

Rafe’s grin widened, his eyes shining as he gazed down at you. “It’s more than a good morning,” he said, his voice filled with a happiness he rarely felt.

You studied his face, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners, the warmth in his smile. “Do you remember last night?” you asked, a hint of uncertainty creeping into your voice. You couldn’t help but wonder if he remembered everything, considering he’d been high when it all started.

“Of course I remember.” Rafe’s tone was almost offended, his brow furrowing slightly. “How could you think I wouldn’t?”

“I thought because you were high—” you started, but Rafe cut you off, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, his touch tender.

“Trust me, I sobered up as soon as I felt you touching me,” he said, his voice low, sincere. He held your gaze, wanting you to know how much last night meant to him, how much you meant to him.

“Really?” you asked, your heart skipping a beat at the intensity in his eyes.

“Yeah, really.” Rafe’s lips curved into a small, playful smile. “Though I was high on something else. On you.”

You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face, a warmth blooming in your chest. “I think I was too. On you.”

Rafe chuckled, his eyes darkening slightly as he remembered the way your body had responded to him, the way you’d looked at him with such need, such trust. “You definitely were.”

The moment felt intimate like you were both wrapped in a soft, hazy bubble of shared happiness. But then the sound of your phone ringing shattered the calm, its sharp tone pulling you both out of the serene, tender moment.

“Is that my phone? Where is it?” you asked, looking around the room, your mind still a bit foggy from sleep.

“It’s probably where we left our clothes last night,” Rafe said, his voice light, teasing.

“Shit. It’s probably my mom,” you muttered, the reality of your situation crashing down on you. You scrambled out of bed, reaching for the t-shirt that was hanging over the back of a chair—Rafe’s t-shirt, which smelled faintly of him, comforting and familiar.

Rafe watched you move, his eyes following every step you took. Seeing you in his shirt, the fabric hanging loosely on your frame, stirred something possessive and protective in him. You looked so right, so perfect, and he couldn’t help but think how much he loved seeing you like this—wrapped up in him.

You found your phone among the pile of discarded clothes and picked it up, your heart racing as you saw your mother’s name on the screen. “Where are you, Y/N?” she demanded the moment you answered, her voice sharp with worry.

“I’m sorry. I slept over at Sarah’s,” you lied smoothly, glancing over at Rafe as you climbed back into bed beside him. His presence, his calm strength, made the lie easier to deliver.

“I was worried. I called you ten times already,” your mother said, her tone softening now that she knew you were safe.

“I know. But we kinda slept in, and I didn’t hear it,” you explained. It was the truth, just not the whole truth.

“Okay, just don’t sneak off again without telling me,” your mother said, her voice firm but no longer angry.

“I won’t. I promise. I’ll be back home later,” you assured her before ending the call. You barely had time to set your phone down before Rafe grabbed it, tossing it aside carelessly.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against your shoulder, trailing soft, lingering kisses up to your neck. You felt yourself melt into his touch, your body relaxing against his as he whispered against your skin, “Wanna take a shower?”

You nodded, your heart fluttering at the thought of being close to him again. “Yeah, let’s take a shower.”

Rafe’s hands moved to the hem of his t-shirt, pulling it over your head in one smooth motion, leaving you bare before him once more. His eyes roamed over your body, a possessive heat in his gaze that made your breath catch. He lifted you effortlessly, his strong arms holding you close as he carried you to the bathroom.

You giggled, the sound light and breathless, as he set you down on the cool tiles. The contrast between the cold floor and the warmth of his body was dizzying, and you leaned into him, your fingers tracing the muscles of his chest. The water cascaded over both of you, the steam rising around you, cocooning you in a world that felt separate from everything else.

Rafe’s touch was gentle, his hands gliding over your wet skin, exploring, reverent. He wanted so badly to touch you more intimately, to feel the slickness between your thighs again, but he held himself back. He knew it was your first-time last night, and he didn’t want to push you, didn’t want to risk hurting you. His restraint only made you want him more, made your heart swell with affection for this boy who could be so careful, so tender, knowing he is like that only towards you.

You reached up, your fingers threading through his wet hair as you pulled him down to meet your lips. The kiss was slow, and unhurried, the water running over your bodies as you moved closer, your skin sliding against his. You felt his hardness pressing against you, hot and insistent, and you moaned softly into his mouth, the sound swallowed by the steady rush of the shower.

“Rafe,” you breathed, his name a plea, a promise, as his length slipped between your legs, the sensation making you shiver.

Rafe sucked in a sharp breath, his hands gripping your hips as he tried to control himself, to hold back the urge to take you right there, against the shower wall. He stepped back, his eyes dropping to his swollen, reddened tip, the sight of it against your soft, wet skin almost too much to bear.

You bit your lip, meeting his gaze with a look that sent a jolt of electricity through him. “What else can you teach me?”

Rafe’s heart pounded at your words, his mind flashing to images of you on your knees, your pretty mouth wrapped around him. He cleared his throat, forcing himself to stay calm. He didn’t want to scare you, didn’t want to rush you into anything. “Have you ever given a handjob?”

You shook your head, and he almost laughed at himself for asking. Of course you hadn’t. But the thought of being the first, the only one to teach you, sent a thrill through him.

“Like this,” he murmured, guiding your hand down to his length, wrapping it around him. His breath hitched as he felt your fingers close around him, the sensation so new, so perfect that he had to close his eyes for a moment, trying to steady himself. “Firm, but not too firm. Move your hand back and forth, like this.”

He kept his hand over yours, controlling the pace until you got the hang of it. His voice was strained, his words coming out in broken, breathless gasps. “Much better. Yeah, much better.”

He let go, leaning back against the tiles, his eyes closed, his head tilted back as you watched his cock twitch in your grasp, precum glistening at the tip. Out of instinct, you reached up, collecting the fluid with your fingers, smearing it over his tip.

Rafe jolted, a gasp escaping his throat, his eyes snapping open. He saw the hesitation in your expression and quickly shook his head, his voice rough, desperate. “Don’t stop.”

You hesitated for only a second before moving to your knees, your body lowering onto the cool, hard tiles. Your hand wrapped around his length, your movements slow and tentative. Rafe’s breath caught as you leaned forward, your tongue darting out to give his tip a tentative, kitten-like lick. The salty taste of his precum coated your tongue, and the reaction it elicited from him was immediate—a sharp intake of breath, his body tensing as he struggled to keep his composure.

“What are you—oh!” Rafe’s voice was strained, his words catching in his throat as you took him further into your mouth, your tongue swirling around the sensitive head. You looked up at him through your lashes, your eyes wide and curious as you experimented with your movements, your hand stroking the base of his cock while your mouth explored his tip.

The sight of you like this, on your knees before him, your lips stretched around him, was almost too much. His fingers found their way into your hair, gently gathering it into a makeshift ponytail to keep it out of your face. The sensation of his hand in your hair, the subtle pressure of his grip, sent a thrill through you, making your core tighten with anticipation.

You moaned softly, the sound vibrating around his length, and Rafe’s hips jerked forward involuntarily. He groaned, his head falling back against the tiles, his breath coming in harsh, uneven gasps. “Fuck, Y/N, you’re—” His voice broke off as you took him deeper, your gag reflex kicking in as his cock hit the back of your throat.

"Just like that, so good. So fucking good." He praised you.

He forced himself to stay still, to let you set the pace, but it was almost impossible. The way your mouth felt around him, the way you looked up at him with those wide, innocent eyes—it was driving him insane. He clenched his jaw, his muscles straining as he fought to hold back.

“You look so p-pretty with my cock s-stuffing your mouth,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire, each word punctuated by a ragged breath. “Taking m-me so—fucking—well.”

He hesitated, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. There were things he wanted to say, things he’d fantasized about telling you, but he was afraid to push you too far, afraid you’d pull away. But the way you were looking at him, the needy, desperate look in your eyes, made him want to say it all.

“F-fuck, choking on my dick like such a good girl,” he continued, his voice trembling.

You pulled back suddenly, his cock slipping from your lips with a loud, wet pop. Your chest heaved as you caught your breath, your eyes wide and glassy, your mouth glistening with a mixture of saliva and his precum. For a moment, Rafe’s heart lurched, fear and regret tightening his chest. Had he gone too far? Had he scared you?

But before he could say anything, you were speaking, your voice soft and breathless. “I want you to cum in my mouth. I want to swallow like a good girl for you.”

Rafe’s eyes widened, a strangled sound escaping his throat as the words sank in. He watched, mesmerized, as you took him back into your mouth, your movements more confident, more assured. His hands tightened in your hair, his hips jerking forward as you bobbed your head, your tongue swirling around his length, your hand stroking him in time with your movements.

He was close, so close, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable peak. “Fuck, Y/N—” His voice was a choked, desperate rasp as he fought to hold back, to let you have control, but it was impossible. The sight of you, the feel of your mouth around him, the sweet, sinful way you looked up at him with those needy, pleading eyes—it was too much.

His body tensed, his muscles locking as he came, the pleasure crashing over him in waves, intense and overwhelming. He groaned, the sound low and rough, as he spilled into your mouth, his hand tightening in your hair, holding you in place as he rode out his orgasm. You swallowed every drop, the salty, bitter taste filling your mouth as you took everything he had to give, your own body trembling with the intensity of the moment.

Rafe’s breathing was harsh and uneven as he came down from his high, his eyes locked on you, his heart pounding in his chest. You pulled back slowly, releasing him from your mouth, your lips still slick with saliva, your cheeks flushed, your eyes dark with desire and satisfaction.

He reached down, his thumb brushing gently over your swollen, glistening lips. “Fuck,” he breathed, his voice hoarse, filled with awe and something deeper, something softer. “You’re incredible.”

You smiled up at him, your heart still racing, your body humming with the lingering buzz of adrenaline and desire. “I just wanted to make you feel good,” you murmured, your voice soft, almost shy.

Rafe’s heart clenched at your words, a fierce, protective feeling swelling inside him. He knelt down, pulling you up into his arms, holding you close. His lips found yours in a tender, lingering kiss, his hands cradling your face as if you were something precious, something to be cherished.

“You do, Y/N,” he whispered against your lips, his voice filled with a raw, unfiltered emotion that made your heart skip a beat. “You make me feel so fucking good.”

•°•°•°•°•°•

You and Rafe sat at the popular seaside restaurant, sharing a quiet lunch together. The sun glinted off the water, the gentle hum of conversation and clinking of cutlery creating a peaceful atmosphere around you. Despite the serene setting, you couldn’t help but feel a lingering sense of unease. It had been a whirlwind of emotions between you two, and now, sitting here, you tried to absorb the reality of being with him outside the confines of stolen moments.

As you picked at your food, something caught your eye—a small, angry red mark on Rafe’s wrist. You hadn’t noticed it last night, everything had been such a blur of passion and emotion. But now, in the clear light of day, it stood out starkly against his skin.

“What’s that?” you asked, pointing at the burn mark.

Rafe glanced down at his wrist, his expression nonchalant, almost dismissive. “Oh, Barry burned my arm,” he replied casually as if it were nothing more than a paper cut.

Your stomach twisted with concern. “Oh my god, Rafe. You really should stop messing around with him before something bad happens.”

Rafe shrugged, his tone casual and unconcerned. “Nothing bad is gonna happen.”

But you weren’t convinced. The thought of Barry, of the kind of people Rafe was associating with, filled you with dread. You furrowed your eyebrows, your worry was evident as you looked at him, trying to make him understand the seriousness of the situation.

Before you could say more, the sound of familiar voices interrupted you. Topper and Kelce approached, their presence shifting the mood instantly.

“What are the two of you doing together?” Topper asked, his eyebrows drawing together in confusion. His tone was light, but you could sense the underlying curiosity. It was as if he knew something was different between you and Rafe, but couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

“Just having lunch,” Rafe replied smoothly, his voice steady, not caring if his friends suspected anything. You knew they had probably noticed the way his gaze always seemed to follow you, the way he acted differently around you. But Rafe was Rafe—he didn’t care what they thought, didn’t bother with pretense or secrecy.

Topper turned his attention to you, his gaze sharp. “Where is Sarah?”

You shrugged, trying to keep your voice casual. “I don’t know. I haven't heard from her since yesterday morning.”

“She must be with John B,” Topper said, his words laced with frustration. His jaw clenched, his hands tightening into fists at his sides. You could see the jealousy simmering beneath the surface, ready to boil over at any moment.

“Maybe you should stop being so jealous,” you said, your voice firm. You wouldn’t let him paint Sarah in a negative light, especially not when she was struggling to figure things out. “And I can’t believe you called her a whore.”

Topper’s face flushed with anger. “Isn’t that what she is? I mean, she cheated—”

“It just happened. She didn’t plan on cheating on you,” you interrupted, your voice rising in defense of your friend. You knew how much Sarah was struggling with her feelings for John B, how complicated everything had become.

“Of course, you will be on her side,” Topper snapped, his voice sharp and bitter.

“Of course. Whose side should I be on?” you shot back, raising an eyebrow, daring him to challenge you further.

Rafe and Kelce chuckled at the exchange, their laughter breaking the tension. Rafe seemed almost amused by the confrontation, his gaze flicking between you and Topper with a small, satisfied smile. He loved seeing you stand your ground, loved the fire in your eyes when you were defending someone you cared about.

Kelce, never one to miss an opportunity to be inappropriate, decided to chime in. "You think you-know-who, they’re scronking yet?" He made a crude gesture with his hands, imitating skin slapping together.

“Shut up,” Topper yelled, his voice strained with anger. You rolled your eyes, disgusted by Kelce’s childish behavior.

“What’s that sound? What’s that? They’re making that sound,” Kelce continued, ignoring the clear irritation in Topper’s voice and your glare.

“Do you think I wanna hear this right now?” Topper snapped, his voice louder, his frustration reaching a boiling point.

“Come on,” Rafe groaned.

“Seriously, not necessary,” you added, your voice sharp. The last thing you wanted was to be dragged into this immature conversation. You just wanted a moment of peace, a chance to enjoy your time with Rafe without everything else intruding.

“I’m trying to get my mind off it,” Topper muttered, his voice low, his eyes hard as he glared at Kelce.

“Calm down, all right? We’re just trying to make you feel better,” Kelce said, his tone defensive.

“It’s not funny. How is it funny?” Topper demanded, his voice rising again.

“This joke’s on her. Look who she’s with,” Rafe stated, his tone light, but there was an edge to it, a darkness that hinted at how he really felt about Sarah’s involvement with John B.

The heated argument was abruptly cut short by a loud shout. “Rafe Cameron!”

Everyone turned, their heads snapping toward the voice. Kelce squinted, trying to see past the crowd. “Who’s that?” he asked, looking over Rafe’s shoulder.

Rafe’s expression darkened, a sigh escaping his lips. “Barry.” He glanced at you, his eyes serious. “Y/N, stay behind me.”

Your heart raced as Rafe made his way toward Barry, the sense of foreboding you’d felt earlier coming back tenfold. You watched as Rafe approached him, your stomach twisting with anxiety. Barry was dangerous, and unpredictable. The thought of him hurting Rafe again made your blood run cold.

Barry was already arguing with a restaurant worker, his voice loud and aggressive. Rafe quickly stepped in, wrapping an arm around Barry’s shoulder and steering him away.

“Hey. What are you doing, man? You good?” Rafe asked, his voice steady but tense.

“No, I ain’t good, man,” Barry snapped, shaking his head, his eyes wild.

“All right, what—”

“Why’s your family think I’m just some bitch they can shit on?” Barry’s voice rose, drawing the attention of people nearby. “First, your dad kneecaps me in my house.”

Rafe’s posture stiffened, his jaw tightening as he tried to keep his cool. “You got your money, Barry. You got your money.”

“That ain’t the point,” Barry spat, his face twisted with anger. “I’m asking you, what am I? Am I just some little bitch? Is that what your family looks at me like?”

“No. No,” Rafe tried to reassure him, but you could hear the strain in his voice.

“No! No!” Barry mocked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Okay, so then why is your little sister and her little surf rat friends running around stealing 25K out of my house? Can you tell me that?”

You felt a jolt of shock run through you. Sarah, stealing? It didn’t make sense. She would never do something like that. You looked at Rafe, trying to gauge his reaction.

Rafe’s eyes widened in surprise. “My little sister robbed you?”

“Yeah, Sarah robbed me. That’s why I’m here,” Barry snapped, his anger palpable, his eyes boring into Rafe.

“She won’t pick a dollar up off the street,” Rafe said, his voice calm but confused. “What are you talking about?”

“Do I look dumb?” Barry took a step closer, his face inches from Rafe’s. “You think I don’t understand what’s going on here? ‘Cause I’m telling you right now, you better sort this out with your sister, or else I am. ‘Cause I want my money.”

“Listen…” Rafe stuttered, his breath coming in shallow, anxious gasps. “...I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“The Pogues are all around Outer Banks stealing shit out of everybody’s house,” Barry shouted, his voice growing louder, more aggressive. “And you got no idea? Your sister’s involved in it.”

“Sarah Cameron, home invader?” Rafe scoffed, still skeptical, trying to reason with Barry. He placed a hand on Barry’s shoulder, attempting to calm him down. “You know how stupid that sounds?”

“How stupid you are?” Barry yelled, his voice echoing through the restaurant as he grabbed Rafe’s burned arm, shoving him roughly. “How many times I gotta deal with you? That’s 25K!”

Rafe let out a sharp yelp of pain, his face contorting as Barry’s grip tightened on his already injured arm. Something inside you snapped. You couldn’t just stand by and watch him get hurt again.

“Hey, leave him alone,” you said, your voice ringing out strong and clear, surprising even yourself. You stepped forward, your heart pounding, your body tense with a mixture of fear and anger.

Barry turned his gaze on you, his eyes narrowing, a sneer curling his lips. “You got no idea what you’re stepping into, sweetheart.”

“Sarah would never steal anything,” you shouted back, your voice steady despite the fear clawing at your insides.

“Well, she did,” Barry snarled, his voice dripping with venom.

“Y/N, don’t,” Rafe warned, his voice strained as he tried to push you back gently. His eyes were pleading, silently begging you to stay out of this, to not get involved in something that could turn ugly.

But you couldn’t just stand by. You couldn’t let Barry hurt him. “Rafe,” you said, your voice firm, meeting his gaze with a steady resolve, “I’m not going to let him hurt you.”

Barry’s sneer deepened, his eyes darting between the two of you. “Look at this, huh? Got yourself a little girlfriend now?” His tone was mocking, and cruel, and it made your skin crawl. “Sort this shit out with your sister,” Barry snapped, his attention shifting back to Rafe. “I’mma get my money. If it’s not from you, it’s from her. Remember that. I’ll see you boys around.” His words were a warning, a threat that hung in the air long after he turned and walked away.

You watched him go, your heart pounding in your chest, the adrenaline still thrumming through your veins. As soon as Barry was out of sight, Rafe let out a shaky breath, his shoulders slumping as if a great weight had just been lifted off them. He turned to face you, his eyes filled with a mix of relief and concern.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly, his hands cupping your face, his thumbs brushing gently against your cheeks. His touch was warm, and comforting, but you could feel the slight tremor in his fingers.

You nodded, though your heart was still racing, the fear from the encounter lingering like a dark cloud. “I’m fine,” you assured him, leaning into his touch, trying to soothe the worry in his eyes. “But Rafe, this is getting out of hand. What if Barry tries to come after you—or Sarah?”

Rafe’s jaw tightened, his eyes flashing with anger and something darker, something more dangerous. “He won’t touch her,” he said, his voice low and firm. “I’ll make sure of it.”

You could see the resolve hardening in his expression, the determination to protect his sister at any cost. But there was a shadow of doubt there too, a flicker of fear that he couldn’t quite hide. You knew he would do anything to keep Sarah safe, but you also knew how unpredictable Barry could be. The thought of Rafe putting himself in danger, of him getting hurt because of this, made your chest tighten with fear.

“I need to go find Sarah and figure out what’s going on,” Rafe said, his voice calm but filled with purpose. He was already thinking ahead, planning his next move.

“Okay,” you whispered, your hand lingering on his arm as if you could keep him close a little longer as if your touch could somehow protect him from what was coming. “Just… be careful, please.”

Rafe’s eyes softened, and he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I will,” he promised, his voice a soft murmur against your skin.

He turned and headed towards his bike, where Topper was already waiting, his expression a mix of confusion and concern. You watched Rafe go, your heart heavy with worry, the uneasy feeling gnawing at your gut refusing to go away.

You knew he was strong and capable of handling himself in most situations, but this felt different. This felt dangerous. You couldn’t shake the fear that something terrible was going to happen, that this situation with Barry was spiraling out of control faster than any of you could manage.

As Rafe and Topper sped away, disappearing down the road, you wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to hold onto the warmth of Rafe’s touch, trying to push back the creeping dread that seemed to settle over you like a heavy, suffocating blanket.

You wanted to help, to be there for him, but you didn’t know how. All you could do was stand there, feeling helpless and afraid, as the storm that had been building around you all finally began to break.

TAGS: @wearemadeofstardust0@hotch-meeeeeuppppp@thepopcultureaddict@deeznuggetsbebussin

[tanjamikaelson]

Ahh I wish he would come to Serbia again, but to Novi Sad this time 😂

[tanjamikaelson]

petition for rafe to have curtain bangs back in s5 pleas please. like drew’s hair growing and it will be nostalgic,not just because they’re hot…mhm.

[tanjamikaelson]

"Rafe was so in love with Sofia!!" No, actually. He loved how she made him feel loved and valued.

"He proposed to her though!" He thought the way she made him feel would end if he didn't act fast.