tanjamikaelson

[tanjamikaelson]

STRANGE LOVE - CHAPTER 39

MASTERLIST

CHAPTER 39: | SHOW ME |

Rafe and Allison sat enjoying a quiet lunch at the club. The clinking of cutlery and the hum of conversation from the surrounding tables created a peaceful backdrop, but Allison's focus was entirely on Rafe. They had a natural rhythm with each other, exchanging subtle glances and occasional smiles as they ate.

However, the calm was shattered when Sofia approached their table, her presence instantly shifting the energy around them. Allison's grip on her fork tightened as Sofia spoke, her voice carefully measured, trying to sound apologetic. “I just wanted to apologize for what I did the other day,” Sofia said, her eyes flickering between Rafe and Allison, clearly hoping for some form of redemption. She needed to make amends if she had any hope of remaining in Rafe’s orbit.

Allison’s gaze hardened, her eyes turning cold and unwelcoming. The tension between the women was palpable, and Rafe remained silent, watching the exchange. "Get out of my face if you don't want to be fired," Allison snapped, her voice icy, leaving no room for negotiation.

Sofia’s face flushed with a mix of embarrassment and fear. She glanced at Rafe, hoping for some form of leniency, but he remained expressionless, his eyes distant. Without another word, Sofia turned and walked away, knowing that she was lucky to still have her job after the incident with Allison. It was clear that Rafe and Allison held power here, and pushing her luck would only make things worse.

Allison exhaled sharply, her appetite suddenly gone. She dropped her fork onto the plate with a clatter, her frustration simmering beneath the surface. “I just lost my appetite,” she muttered, her voice laced with irritation. The interaction with Sofia had pulled her into a bad mood, one that she wasn’t eager to shake off.

Rafe studied her for a moment, sensing the shift in her mood. He leaned back in his chair, his expression softening. “Wanna get out of here?” he asked, his voice low and soothing, offering her an escape from the discomfort.

“Yes,” Allison replied immediately, her voice firm. She didn’t want to be in the same space where Sofia had lingered. She needed to be somewhere that felt like hers and Rafe’s alone.

They left the club and made their way to Rafe’s catamaran, the sound of the ocean calming the energy between them. The boat was their sanctuary, away from prying eyes and distractions. Once they boarded, Rafe took a seat in the cockpit lounge, his body relaxing as he spread his legs in a casual, confident manner. His eyes followed Allison as she stood in front of him, the tension still palpable between them.

Allison crossed her arms, her gaze fixed on him. She couldn’t shake the lingering frustration from earlier, and now her thoughts drifted to the past. “Tell me something, Rafe,” she began, her voice low but edged with curiosity and something darker. “How could you even hook up with her?” She searched his face, wanting to understand the part of him that had once sought out someone like Sofia.

Rafe met her gaze, his expression softening, though there was a hint of regret behind his eyes. He sighed before answering, his voice honest. “I thought she could help me forget you.”

Allison’s eyes narrowed slightly. His answer wasn’t enough to soothe the bitterness swirling inside her. “If you want to forget someone,” she said, her voice more pointed, “The point is to be with someone better.” There was a vulnerability behind her words, though it was masked by her sharp tone. She didn’t want to admit how much it stung to think of Rafe seeking solace in someone else.

Rafe leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees, his gaze locked on hers. His voice was steady, but there was a sincerity that couldn’t be ignored. “That’s hard to find,” he said, his lips curving into a soft, almost resigned smile. “There’s no one better than you around here.”

His words hit her like a slow burn, melting some of the tension that had built up. Rafe's admission, simple but heartfelt, struck a chord deep within her. It wasn’t that she needed constant reassurance, but in that moment, hearing that she was irreplaceable to him made her heart swell with a mix of pride and affection.

Allison stood in silence for a moment, letting Rafe’s words wash over her. The soft lapping of the waves against the boat filled the space between them, creating a peaceful contrast to the storm of emotions swirling inside her. His admission—that there was no one better than her—settled the unrest she’d been feeling. But a part of her still wrestled with the fact that he had tried to forget her at all.

Slowly, she walked toward him, closing the distance until she stood between his legs, her hands finding their way to his shoulders. She looked down at him, searching his face for more than just words. There was a vulnerability in his eyes, something that told her he regretted every moment that wasn’t spent with her.

Rafe’s hands slid up her thighs, his touch gentle yet grounding, pulling her closer. His fingers curled around her hips as he looked up at her.

She knew he meant it, knew that he was trying to show her that there was no one else who mattered to him, no one who could ever replace her. But there was still a lingering need to be sure—to feel it.

Her fingers drifted up to the back of his neck, her grip tightening slightly as she leaned in closer. “Then show me,” she murmured, her lips just inches from his. “Show me that I’m the only one.”

Rafe’s breath hitched at the intensity in her voice, the heat of her words igniting something deep inside him. His lips crashed into hers with a hunger that told her everything she needed to know—she was the only one he wanted, the only one he would ever need.

Once they broke the kiss his lips found the bare skin of her stomach where her top didn’t cover. His kisses were soft, lingering, and the sensation sent a shiver through Allison’s body. His fingers moved to the zipper of her shorts, slowly pulling it down as his kisses trailed lower. The fabric fell to the floor, leaving her in just her panties. His hands traced along her hips, his touch gentle but firm, grounding her in the moment.

She shivered as his fingers traced over her core, her body responding instantly to his touch.

"I like how quickly you get wet for me," Rafe murmured against her skin, his voice low and rough, filled with a quiet intensity that made Allison’s breath catch in her throat.

Allison moaned softly, her fingers clutching at his shoulders for support as her knees threatened to give away beneath her. She could feel the heat building between them, the tension that had weighed her down moments ago was replaced by an all-consuming need, her body trembling as Rafe knelt in front of her, sliding her panties down her legs. He touched her again, this time with more urgency, pushing two fingers inside her, his mouth following as he kissed and licked her with expert precision.

The sound of her soft moans filled the air, mixing with the gentle crashing of the waves against the boat.

"Oh god... Rafe..." Allison’s voice came out in breathless moans as the pleasure built rapidly inside her.

Allison’s body quivered as Rafe’s fingers moved inside her, stroking her with an unrelenting rhythm. The feel of his mouth on her, his tongue teasing her sensitive skin, sent waves of pleasure coursing through her, building her up until she thought she might burst. Every breath she took came out in ragged gasps, her body reacting to every flick of his tongue, every thrust of his fingers.

"Rafe..." she moaned again, her voice growing more desperate as she felt the pressure building deep inside her. Her legs began to tremble, the strength in her body wavering as her climax neared.

Sensing her growing weakness, Rafe gently lifted one of her legs onto the sofa, spreading her wider to give him better access. His grip on her tightened as he continued his assault, his mouth and fingers working in perfect tandem to bring her to the edge.

The sound of the waves crashing softly against the boat faded into the background, overtaken by the sound of Allison’s breathy moans and the wet, slick sound of Rafe’s fingers moving inside her. The pleasure was almost overwhelming, her body unable to take much more.

“Oh god... I’m going to—" she gasped, her voice breaking as her orgasm hit her like a tidal wave. Her body convulsed, her legs shaking as the pleasure crashed over her in powerful, relentless waves. She cried out, her fingers digging into Rafe’s shoulders as she came, her entire body tensing as she was consumed by her release.

Rafe didn’t stop. He kept his fingers moving inside her, his mouth still working against her, drawing out every last bit of her orgasm until she was shaking uncontrollably in his arms. Only when her body began to relax did he pull back, his lips trailing one last kiss up the inside of her thigh before he rose to his feet.

Allison was still trembling, her breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps as she tried to steady herself. Her legs felt weak beneath her, her body still humming with the aftershocks of her orgasm. Rafe pulled her into his arms, steadying her as she clung to him, her head resting against his chest as she came down from her high.

Without missing a beat, Rafe leaned down and captured her lips in a heated kiss, letting her taste herself on his tongue. The kiss was full of raw, unspoken desire, a reminder of the connection they shared, even when words weren’t enough.

Allison’s hands roamed down his chest, her fingers deftly unzipping his pants and pulling them down, along with his boxers. He was already hard, his arousal evident as she wrapped her hand around him, stroking him gently.

Rafe groaned against her lips, his hands gripping her waist as she pushed him back onto the sofa. Allison straddled him without hesitation, their eyes locking as she slowly sank down onto him, both of them moaning in unison as he filled her completely.

Rafe’s hands slid to her hips, gripping her tightly as he helped guide her movements, lifting her up and down on him. Allison’s breath hitched at the sensation of him so deep inside her, each thrust bringing a delicious mix of pain and pleasure that had her gasping for air.

Their movements were slow at first, both of them savoring the intensity of the moment, but soon, the heat between them grew too intense to keep pace. Allison’s fingers dug into Rafe’s shoulders as she began to move faster, her hips rocking against him with increasing urgency.

Rafe tilted his head back, a low groan escaping his lips as he felt her tightening around him. "Yeah, just like that," he encouraged breathlessly, his voice rough with need. "Keep moving."

Allison bit her lip, her own breath coming in ragged bursts as she rode him harder, her body moving with an almost frantic rhythm as the pleasure between them built. Rafe was so deep inside her that every thrust sent shivers through her, the pressure building with every second as she chased her release.

Rafe’s hand slipped between them, his fingers finding her clit and rubbing it slowly at first, then faster as he felt her nearing her climax. He could feel her body responding to his touch, her walls tightening around him, and he knew she was close.

Allison’s moans grew louder, more desperate as the pressure inside her built to an unbearable level. She could feel her release coming, her body trembling as she clung to Rafe, her head falling forward as her climax began to crash over her.

Rafe was right behind her, his own orgasm building as her body tightened around him. The pressure between them intensified until they both cried out in unison, their bodies moving together in perfect sync as they rode out the waves of their release.

Allison’s body trembled violently as her orgasm overtook her, her cries of pleasure filling the air around them. Rafe held her tightly, his own body shuddering as his release followed quickly after, filling her completely as they collapsed against each other, breathless and spent.

For a long moment, they stayed like that, wrapped in each other’s arms, their hearts pounding in sync as they tried to catch their breath. The golden glow of the sunset slowly faded into dusk, casting a soft, muted light over the water. The warmth of the day dissipated with the cooling air, leaving only the comforting heat of their shared body warmth.

Allison rested her head against Rafe’s chest, her body still humming with the aftershocks of their lovemaking. She could feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath her cheek, a comforting reminder of his presence, his unwavering support.

The silence between them was thick but not uncomfortable. They didn’t need words at that moment. Their closeness, the gentle rhythm of their breathing, spoke more than anything they could say. Rafe’s chest rose and fell in a calming rhythm beneath her as if anchoring her to the peace they had created between them.

Once their bodies had cooled and the tension of their passion finally eased, Allison shifted. She sat up, her eyes still glazed with the calm that followed their lovemaking, and then, almost as if an idea suddenly sparked in her mind, she turned to him.

“You got any other alcohol here besides beer?” she asked, her tone light but playful.

Rafe tilted his head, surprised by the sudden shift in mood but welcoming it. “Yeah,” he said with a nod, amusement creeping into his voice. “I’ve got whiskey in the cabinet.”

Allison’s eyes lit up with a mischievous glint as she made her way down the companionway stairs to the small kitchen area. The sound of her footsteps echoed softly as she opened the cabinet and pulled out the bottle of whiskey. She unscrewed the cap and brought the bottle to her lips, the burn of the liquor sending a slight shiver down her spine. Her expression twisted for a moment, grimacing at the sharp taste, but she smiled through it.

Moments later, Rafe appeared behind her, reaching for the bottle. She handed it to him, their fingers brushing for the briefest of moments, a fleeting reminder of the intimacy they had just shared. He took a swig, mirroring her earlier grimace as the whiskey burned its way down.

“What about music?” Allison asked, her mood lifting as the idea took shape. “Let’s put something more upbeat on.”

Rafe’s eyebrow arched in curiosity, the corner of his mouth twitching into a grin. “You trying to make a party here?” he asked, following her back up to the cockpit, his voice tinged with humor.

“Why not?” Allison’s grin widened as she reached for the controls, changing the song to something faster, more lively. She shot him a playful look. “Let’s invite some people.”

Rafe chuckled, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind, pulling her close until her back was pressed against his chest. “Let’s not,” he murmured, his breath warm against her ear. “We can have a party for two.”

Allison smiled as she swayed her hips slowly to the rhythm of the music. The world outside the boat seemed to disappear, leaving just the two of them in this perfect moment. Rafe’s lips brushed against her neck in light, teasing kisses, sending shivers through her body. He turned her around so they were face to face, his hands settling on her hips as he guided her movements.

But before they could lose themselves again in each other, a voice pierced the intimate bubble they had created.

“Country club!” Barry’s voice cut through the air like a sharp blade, shattering the moment. “Am I interrupting something?”

Rafe let out an audible sigh of frustration, his body stiffening against hers. His fingers, which had been gently caressing her sides, tightened in irritation. He pulled away from Allison, his gaze snapping toward the source of the interruption.

“Yes, you are actually,” he replied, his voice clipped, dripping with annoyance as he glared at Barry.

Allison’s body tensed instinctively at the sight of Barry, her previous comfort evaporating as unease washed over her. His smug expression made her stomach turn, the memory of their last encounter—her desperation, his smirk—flashing through her mind. She hadn’t seen Barry since the night she had stolen from him, and the sight of him now, with that same arrogance plastered on his face, made her skin crawl.

“What is he doing here?” she asked, her voice cold, laced with irritation as her eyes darted toward Barry warily.

Rafe shrugged but his posture remained tense. His body was coiled tight, ready for whatever game Barry was about to play. “What do you want, Barry?”

Barry sauntered over to the lounge as if he owned the place, ignoring the clear tension in the air. He made himself comfortable, his eyes glinting with amusement as he leaned back casually. “Got a business deal for you, country club,” he said, his voice oily, sleazy.

Rafe’s eyes narrowed as he sat beside Barry, his demeanor shifting from irritation to curiosity. “Yeah?” he asked, his tone still tense but now tinged with interest.

Allison stood frozen in place, her body rigid with discomfort. She didn’t want to be near Barry, didn’t want to relive the memories he dredged up. When Rafe reached out, trying to pull her into the seat beside him, she instinctively pulled away, crossing her arms over her chest as if to shield herself.

Barry noticed her reaction, and of course, couldn’t resist a smirk. “Relax, princess,” he drawled, his voice dripping with mockery. “Your boyfriend paid me what you owed me.”

Allison’s eyes flicked to Rafe, confusion clouding her expression. “You did? When?”

Barry leaned back, relishing the tension in the air. “Saw you at the party,” he explained, “Rafe said to leave you alone. And gave me the money to settle your debt.”

Allison’s confusion deepened. That party—the one where she had seen Rafe with Sofia, convinced herself he didn’t care anymore. But hearing this… hearing that Rafe had been protecting her even then it seemed Rafe had been looking out for her all along, even when she didn’t realize it.

“So, we’re good now?” she asked, her voice softer, the surprise still evident.

Barry’s smirk widened, but there was something more sinister behind it. “Yeah, we’re good. Unless, of course, you’re planning another stunt. Like trying to blow me for a bag of coke.”

Allison’s blood ran cold at his words. She could feel Rafe’s eyes snap to her, the air between them thick with tension. His expression darkened, his body visibly tensing as the anger simmered just beneath the surface.

“Wait, what?” Rafe’s voice was sharp, demanding an explanation.

Barry chuckled, clearly enjoying the discomfort he was causing. “Oh, shit, you didn’t know?” His tone was mocking, as if this was all a game.

Allison met Rafe’s gaze, her heart pounding in her chest. She hadn’t expected Barry to reveal that part of the story, not like this. She felt cornered, her throat tightening. “My plan was to steal the coke, not actually go through with it,” she said, trying to explain, trying to downplay the situation. “It’s not my fault he’s so easy.”

Barry’s amusement vanished, replaced by a venomous glare. He leaned forward, his voice low and dangerous. “What did you just say?”

Allison, despite the fear gnawing at her insides, squared her shoulders. She wouldn’t let him intimidate her. “Did you really think I’d blow you for a bag of coke? That’s pathetic.”

Barry pointed a finger at her, “You were the one so desperate to get a fix.”

“Not that desperate to really suck your dirty little dick.” Allison hissed at him.

Barry’s temper flared in an instant, his expression twisting with rage as he shot to his feet. “You little slut—”

But before he could finish, Rafe was on him, shoving him back hard. Barry stumbled, his eyes wide with surprise, but Rafe’s fury was palpable.

“Don’t you dare call her a slut,” Rafe growled, his voice low, dangerous.

Barry regained his balance, his eyes narrowing as he spat back, “That’s what she is. That’s how addict sluts behave.”

“I’m not an addict,” Allison shot back, her voice steady, though the knot of fear in her chest tightened with every word.

Barry sneered at her, his contempt clear. “Maybe not anymore. But you were.”

Allison felt the weight of his words pressing down on her, the past she had fought so hard to leave behind coming back to haunt her. She didn’t want to argue, didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. Without another word, she spun on her heel and stormed down into the lower part of the yacht, needing to put as much distance between herself and Barry as possible.

Down in the small kitchen area, she gripped the counter, her hands trembling as she tried to steady herself. Her heart raced, and the air around her felt heavy, and thick with the past she had tried so hard to leave behind. The muffled voices of Barry and Rafe echoed faintly from above, but she blocked them out. The memories were too loud, drowning out everything else—the words Barry had hurled at her, the shame and anger clawing at her chest.

It was all too much.

The small kitchen felt suffocating, the walls closing in as she struggled to breathe, each shaky inhale doing little to ease the crushing weight on her chest. Her past mistakes, her desperation for drugs, and the things she had done to feed that need all swirled around her like a dark cloud, threatening to consume her.

After what felt like an eternity, the soft creak of the cabin door snapped her out of her spiral. The familiar sound of footsteps descending the stairs brought her a sense of calm even before she saw him. Rafe’s presence filled the space like a steady, grounding force, a quiet concern radiating from him as he approached.

“Allison…” His voice was gentle, cautious, as though he were afraid that speaking too loudly might shatter the fragile hold she had on her emotions. He stopped a few steps away, watching her, his heart aching at the sight of her so vulnerable, so shaken. “I’m sorry about all that.”

She didn’t turn to face him, her eyes still locked on her hands, gripping the counter as if it were the only thing keeping her upright. Tears blurred her vision, slipping down her cheeks silently. “No, I should be the one who’s sorry,” she said, her voice cracking. “I never wanted you to find out about the things I did… because I was so desperate for drugs.”

Her confession hung in the air, raw and heavy. Rafe stepped closer, his chest tightening at the sight of her pain. “Allison…” he began, but she interrupted, her voice breaking with shame. “I get it if you’re mad.”

“I’m not mad about that,” Rafe assured her, his voice firm yet gentle as he closed the distance between them. He placed a hand on her shoulder, feeling the tension beneath his fingertips. “If anyone gets it, I do.”

She finally looked up at him, her tear-filled eyes meeting his. “Why did you pay him off without telling me?” she asked, her tone filled not with anger but with the quiet hurt of someone who had hoped to leave the past behind.

Rafe sighed, running a hand through his hair, frustration flickering across his face. “I didn’t want you to worry about it,” he admitted, his voice soft. “I wanted to take care of it for you.”

Her gaze dropped to the floor, her shoulders sagging under the weight of everything she had tried to forget. “I don’t want to be reminded of that part of my life, Rafe. It’s hard enough as it is.”

Rafe’s face softened as he reached out, gently cupping her arm. His touch was warm, and reassuring. He could see how much Barry’s words had shaken her, how they had torn open old wounds she had worked so hard to heal. “I know,” he whispered, pulling her into his arms. “But you’re not that person anymore.”

Allison melted into his embrace, resting her head against his chest. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her ear soothed the storm raging inside her, grounding her in the safety of his presence. His arms tightened around her, a silent promise that he was there—that he always would be.

For a long moment, they stayed like that, wrapped in each other’s arms. The tension in Allison’s body slowly began to ease, her breath coming in steadier, deeper as the weight of the encounter with Barry started to lift. The air felt a little lighter, the kitchen less suffocating with Rafe by her side.

“I just… I don’t ever want to be that person again,” Allison whispered, her voice small, her vulnerability exposed.

“You won’t be,” Rafe murmured, his voice low but filled with certainty. He pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head. “I’m here, and I won’t let you fall back into that.”

Allison nodded against his chest, a small flicker of relief blooming in her heart. She believed him—believed in the quiet strength of his words, in the way he held her as if nothing in the world could pull her away from him. The scars of her past still stung, but with Rafe, they didn’t feel as deep. She wasn’t alone in facing them anymore.

Eventually, Allison pulled back slightly, though she kept her arms loosely around his waist. “I guess I owe you an apology for what happened with Barry. I should’ve told you sooner.”

Rafe shook his head, his thumb brushing away a tear from her cheek with a tenderness that made her heartache. “You don’t owe me anything. We’ve both made mistakes, and we’re still here. That’s what matters.”

A soft smile tugged at the corners of Allison’s lips, the tension in her chest easing a little more. She leaned up and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, a silent thank you for the patience and understanding he had given her.

“Come on,” Rafe said, his voice lighter now, a smile playing on his lips. “Let’s get out of here.”

They made their way back to the upper deck, the cool night air hitting their faces as they stepped outside. The stars had begun to appear, twinkling above them like tiny diamonds scattered across a dark canvas. The soft sound of the waves against the boat provided a peaceful backdrop to the moment, a reminder that they were far removed from the chaos of their past.

Rafe wrapped his arm around Allison’s waist as they stood by the railing, looking out over the water. “This is better,” he murmured, his voice content.

Allison nodded, leaning into him as they gazed at the horizon. “Much better.”

And for the first time in a long while, Allison felt a sense of peace settle over her. The mistakes, the struggles, the heartbreak—they had all led her here, to this moment, where the past felt just a little further away, and the future seemed just a little brighter.

TAGS: @tiaamberxx @dominicfikexoxo @belle101200 @rafesbabygirlx

[tanjamikaelson]

BEST FRIEND'S BROTHER - CHAPTER 30

MASTERLIST

CHAPTER 30: | BONFIRE |

You pulled Sarah by the hand through the crowds of people at the bonfire party, your mind spinning with a jumble of thoughts you weren’t ready to unpack. Rafe’s visit the other night lingered in the back of your mind like a shadow, but you hadn't told Sarah. You weren't ready to talk about how he’d kissed you, how he'd sobbed into your shoulder, pleading for forgiveness. Tonight wasn’t about Rafe—it was about getting wasted and trying to forget. You needed that, and you were determined Sarah would join you.

“You and I need to get wasted,” you declared, your voice firm as if it were a mission. “Maybe smoke a couple of joints, you know, to get high and ease our minds.”

Sarah shot you a surprised look. “Since when do you smoke?”

You shrugged casually, trying to play it off as if it was nothing. “Uh, I tried it not so long ago…”

As you approached the keg, two guys were already there, filling their cups. They noticed you both, grinning with that familiar, irritating mischievousness.

“Can we get you ladies anything?” one of them offered, his grin widening as if he thought he was being smooth.

You rolled your eyes, your patience thin. “No,” you said dryly, not even looking at them.

The guys exchanged looks, muttering something about how you were a bitch before disappearing into the crowd. You didn’t care. Tonight was about escaping, not putting up with sleazy attempts at flirting.

You poured a cup for Sarah first, then filled one for yourself, already feeling the anticipation of the alcohol taking the edge off.

Sarah studied you for a moment, her expression more serious now. “You know, I think you might use a bit of flirting with somebody tonight.”

You scoffed, taking a large sip of your drink. “Yeah, no way. I have too much on my mind right now.”

“Like what?” she asked, tilting her head curiously as she sipped from her cup.

You hesitated for a moment, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. “Like how Rafe came to see me last night.”

Sarah nearly choked on her drink. “Wait, what?!”

You nodded, still holding the cup to your lips, avoiding her gaze.

“What did he want?” she asked, leaning in, her voice laced with concern.

“He said he needed me… wanted my forgiveness,” you confessed, your voice quieter now, as if admitting it made it more real.

“Don’t tell me you forgave him,” Sarah said, disbelief and concern mixing in her voice.

“I didn’t,” you assured her, shaking your head. “I told him he needs to prove he’s changed before I even consider giving him another chance.”

Sarah’s expression hardened. “He will never change.”

Her words cut deep, striking at the part of you that still held onto hope. It hurt because a part of you feared she might be right.

Before the conversation could continue, Topper approached, holding three mai tais in his hands. He handed one to each of you, flashing a charming smile.

“Cheers,” you said, raising your drink with forced enthusiasm.

Sarah smiled faintly. “Cheers.”

Topper grinned. “Cheers to just a... just a normal, fun night.”

The three of you clinked your cups together, each taking a sip. You were already thinking about the joints you planned to smoke. “I’ll go find some joints, okay?” you said quickly, needing a moment away from the tension.

You found the girls who had given you a joint the last time and bought a few more, hoping it would help dull the swirling emotions. When you returned, you spotted Sarah and Topper dancing, their movements close, almost intimate. Just as Topper leaned in, you cleared your throat loudly, breaking the moment.

Topper pulled back immediately, offering a sheepish smile. “I'm sorry. I, uh… one too many mai tais, I guess.”

“Yeah...” you replied, unconvinced. You knew Topper wanted Sarah back, and this wasn’t just about being drunk.

Sarah gently touched Topper’s arm. “It’s just… a little too soon.”

Topper nodded. “It’s all good.” He excused himself when someone called him over, leaving you alone with Sarah once more.

You shot her a questioning look. “Do you still like Topper?”

Sarah sighed, her gaze distant. “I don’t know what I feel.”

Before you could say anything else, Sarah spotted John B dancing with another girl. Her whole demeanor changed in an instant. “Come with me,” she said, pulling you along with her.

The tension in the air was palpable as you followed Sarah, her hand gripping yours tightly as she dragged you toward John B. You could feel the storm brewing within her before she even spoke a word.

“Sancho. Hi! You gonna introduce me to your friend?” Sarah’s voice dripped with sarcasm, her eyes locked on John B but flickering briefly toward the girl next to him. You could tell she was holding back her anger, but the strain was evident.

John B seemed caught off guard. His eyes widened for a moment before narrowing in frustration. “What are you doing here?” His question was more of a challenge than a greeting.

“The same thing you're doing here, it looks like,” Sarah shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant but failing to hide the hurt creeping into her tone. She barely had time to finish her sentence before Topper returned, draping his arm casually over her shoulder as if trying to lay claim to her.

“Hey, Top!” Sarah greeted him, her voice faltering slightly.

“Hey, Sarah,” Topper replied smoothly, his eyes briefly flicking to John B. There was tension in the way he carried himself now, a silent challenge directed at John B. “Hey, I think we should go.”

“I don't know what you mean,” Sarah said defiantly, shrugging off Topper’s arm. “I think we're just getting started.”

A girl, the one John B had been dancing with, suddenly piped up. “Good idea. You should go, Sarah.” Her words were like a slap, smug and condescending.

Sarah’s eyes narrowed, her anger finally boiling over. “Did I ask you?” she shot back, bitterness lacing her words.

The girl wasn’t intimidated, her face twisting into a sneer. “You don't own everything, princess. You aren't even together.”

You couldn’t stand by and let her talk to Sarah that way. “Why are you still talking?” you snapped, stepping closer with a glare.

“Have a little respect! Her dad just died!” Topper’s voice rose in defense of Sarah, his frustration starting to show as the situation escalated.

“Shut up, Kooks! Back off!” the girl spat back, her voice growing louder as the crowd around you all started to tune into the brewing confrontation.

“What’s your problem?” you fired back, your voice shaking with rising anger. But before you could say anything more, you heard Sarah’s voice cracking with emotion as she addressed John B directly.

“Did… did I mean anything to you? Did you… did you tell her?” Her words trembled, and you could feel the vulnerability beneath her anger, the raw emotion of someone who had been deeply hurt.

“You wanna start shit right now?” Topper asked John B.

John B stepped forward, squaring off with Topper. “Do I wanna start some shit?” John B repeated mockingly, his eyes locked on Topper with a simmering rage.

“They all know what happened last time,” Topper stated, the reminder of their previous clash hanging in the air like a warning.

“Just get out! Just go!” Sarah’s voice broke through the tension, her desperation for him to leave evident.

“I'll beat your ass,” Topper threatened, stepping closer to John B, ready for a fight.

Just then, Kelce barged into the middle of it, his voice loud and taunting. “Hey, she don’t want you anymore, bro.” John B turned away, trying to walk away from the situation, but Kelce wasn’t done. “What you gonna do, John B, kill me like you killed Sheriff Peterkin?” His words were meant to provoke, and they did.

Before anyone could react, John B spun around and landed a hard punch to Kelce’s face. The impact made Kelce stumble backward, his expression twisted in pain and anger. The crowd gasped, the air charged with shock.

Topper immediately jumped in, pushing John B back, and in an instant, the entire scene dissolved into chaos. Every kook seemed to be fighting a pogue, bodies slamming into one another, fists flying.

In the middle of the chaos, you and Sarah were jostled by the crowd. People bumped into you, nearly knocking you off balance, but then you saw Sarah fall, shoved to the ground by the girl who had been dancing with John B.

“Sarah!” you gasped, panic rising in your chest as you pushed your way through the mess of people to reach her.

You rushed to her, your heart pounding as you helped her back to her feet. “Are you okay?” you asked, worry thick in your voice.

Before Sarah could answer, Kie appeared, shoving the girl who had knocked Sarah down. “Move, bitch!” Kie snapped, her voice filled with fury. “What's your problem?”

The girl whipped around, her face red with anger. “Hey, what the hell? Whose side are you on?” the girl demanded, glaring at Kie.

Kie stood her ground, her voice sharp and unwavering. “She’s my friend.”

“You belong with us!” the girl shouted, her voice rising over the noise of the fight still raging behind you.

As the chaos continued, you saw the pogues managing to pull Topper off of John B, and in a rush, they all ran, scattering into the darkness to escape the growing frenzy of the party gone wrong.

You grabbed Sarah’s hand tightly as you both ran, your heart pounding in your chest. Tonight had started out as an escape, but it had only served to remind you of how much everything was falling apart.

•°•°•°•°•°•

After the chaos of the bonfire party, you needed a way to calm your mind. You had been tense all night, your emotions swirling after seeing John B, Sarah, and the fight that broke out. You couldn't stop thinking about everything that had happened with Rafe, and the weight of your thoughts was starting to feel unbearable.

When you got home, you grabbed one of the joints you’d bought earlier at the party. You weren’t usually one to smoke alone, but tonight, you needed to quiet your mind. You went out to the small balcony outside your room, lit the joint, and took a deep drag, feeling the smoke fill your lungs.

The effect was almost immediate. The haze of the weed made your body relax, your mind drifting away from all the chaos, if only for a moment. You leaned back against the wall, closing your eyes as the tension in your body melted away.

But as you stood there in the silence, your thoughts slowly crept back in, refusing to be fully silenced. You kept replaying the last few weeks in your head—Rafe, the confusion, the moments of anger and passion. You took another drag, trying to push it all down, but your mind wouldn’t let you forget.

Something had been off for days now, and no matter how much you tried to ignore it, you couldn't escape the feeling. It had been about two weeks since you and Rafe had been together, and the thought of what might be happening inside your body was beginning to haunt you.

You took another hit from the joint, hoping the weed would dull the creeping anxiety, but it only made you focus more on your body. The symptoms were subtle at first—sore breasts, fatigue, and mood swings. And your period, which was usually so regular, was late. You tried not to panic, convincing yourself it could be delayed because of stress. But the days kept passing, and still, nothing.

Your mind wandered to that night with Rafe when things between you blurred in the heat of emotion. You had convinced yourself it was fine, that he would pull out in time, but now you weren’t so sure. The memory of that moment played over and over in your head, mixing with the worries you’d been trying to suppress.

The more you thought about it, the more the possibility became real. Panic started to bubble up inside you. Could you actually be pregnant? No, you tried to tell yourself. It was just stress, right? Everything had been overwhelming lately, with Rafe, with Sarah, with everything falling apart. But the feeling wouldn’t go away, that gnawing sense of uncertainty that something was happening inside your body that you couldn’t control.

You stubbed out the joint, realizing that no amount of smoke could quiet your mind anymore. That’s when you knew you couldn’t wait any longer. You needed to know.

•°•°•°•°•°•

The next morning, you went to the pharmacy. The walk there felt like a blur, your heart pounding in your chest as you tried to mentally prepare yourself for what could come. You grabbed the pregnancy test and hurried out, barely making eye contact with the cashier.

You went straight home, shutting yourself in the bathroom, your mind racing with the possibilities. You stood in front of the mirror for a moment, your reflection staring back at you, pale and anxious. What would happen if you were pregnant? What would you tell Rafe? What would you tell anyone?

Taking a deep breath, you opened the box and followed the instructions. Your hands were shaking as you did what you needed to do. When it was done, you placed the test on the counter and stared at it, waiting.

Each second felt like an eternity, and your mind was racing. You couldn’t help but think about everything—the decisions you’d made, the emotions that had led you here. And now, you were waiting for an answer that could change everything.

TAGS: @wearemadeofstardust0 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @thepopcultureaddict @deeznuggetsbebussin @wtfdudesblog @davinashifts333@pvyden

[tanjamikaelson]

BEST FRIEND'S BROTHER - CHAPTER 29

MASTERLIST

CHAPTER 29: | I NEED YOU |

You had barely glanced at the headline before the weight of the words hit you like a ton of bricks. Rafe Cameron was arrested. Your heart sank deep into your chest as you tried to process the news, the emotions swirling around inside you—pain, confusion, and something you didn’t want to admit—relief. But it wasn’t over. A few hours later, another wave of shock hit when you heard the devastating news about Ward.

The police had attempted to arrest Ward, but he had committed suicide before they could. He had confessed to the murders of John B’s dad, the pilot Gavin, and even Sheriff Peterkin, all to save Rafe. It was his final act to protect his son, to take the blame and ensure Rafe’s release from prison. It felt unreal, like a nightmare you couldn’t wake up from.

Later that evening, you found yourself at Topper’s cabin, where Sarah had been staying. She sat on the couch, her expression blank, her eyes red from crying. The weight of everything hung heavy between you both.

“I broke up with John B,” Sarah said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart clenched in surprise. “What? Why?” you asked, trying to understand how everything had fallen apart so quickly.

“You didn’t see the way he looked—when my dad…” Sarah's voice cracked, and she stuttered over her words, “He was glad. And I thought, out of all people, he would understand how it feels to lose a dad.”

You wrapped your arms around her, pulling her close. “I’m so sorry,” you whispered softly, feeling her pain in every word. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”

Sarah nodded against your shoulder, hugging you tighter as if holding on for dear life. You could feel her trembling, her emotions raw and exposed. She had lost so much, and now, it seemed like even the people she trusted were slipping away.

“Topper asked me to go to the annual bonfire tomorrow,” Sarah murmured after a moment of silence. “Will you come with us? I don’t want to go if you’re not going.”

“I’ll go,” you reassured her, your voice soft yet firm. “I’ll be there.”

You stayed with her for a while longer, comforting each other in the shared silence, both of you grappling with the storm of emotions that had taken over your lives.

•°•°•°•°•°•

When you returned home, your heart felt heavier than ever. You headed straight for your room, craving solitude. But as soon as you flicked the light switch on, you froze. Rafe was sitting on your bed, his presence startling you.

“Oh my God. What the hell are you doing here?” you exclaimed, your voice a mix of shock and anger. “And who let you in?!”

Rafe barely lifted his head, his expression worn and defeated. He gestured towards the open window. “I snuck in through the window. I thought you’d be here.”

“Well, I wasn’t, so you should’ve left,” you shot back bitterly, crossing your arms over your chest. The last thing you wanted was to deal with him right now.

“I didn’t leave because I need you,” Rafe said, standing up and taking a step closer.

You instinctively took a step back, your heart racing with uncertainty. “Don’t, Rafe!” you warned, your voice firm.

“Please,” he begged, his voice cracking. “I know you hate me. I know.”

The silence that followed his words was deafening. You wanted to hate him, you really did. But the truth was, you didn’t hate him as much as you wished you did.

Rafe’s eyes filled with desperation as he continued, “I can’t change what I did… But I’ll try to be different. Just give me another chance. Please.”

You shook your head, your voice barely above a whisper, “I don’t know, Rafe. I can’t just give you another chance… you have to prove to me that you’ve changed first.”

Rafe nodded, his expression filled with remorse. “I get it. I will.” He closed the distance between you before you could move, his hands wrapping around your waist. His head fell into the crook of your neck, and he started to cry, his body shaking with sobs.

You stood frozen, unsure of what to do. The sound of his crying broke something inside you, and despite everything, you found yourself wrapping your arms around him, giving him the comfort he so desperately needed. The two of you stayed like that for several long minutes, his sobs quieting as he clung to you like you were the only thing keeping him from falling apart completely.

When Rafe finally pulled back, his hands moved to cradle your face, his eyes red and full of anguish. You looked at him, tears threatening to spill from your own eyes. Your heart broke for him, but you couldn’t let yourself get swept up in this moment.

“I don’t know if I can do this without you,” Rafe whispered, his voice cracking again.

“You can,” you replied, though your voice wavered.

Rafe shook his head, his forehead pressing against yours as if he was trying to keep you close, to keep the moment from slipping away. “I can’t,” he murmured, his lips just inches from yours. “Just kiss me once, and I’ll leave.”

Before you could protest, Rafe’s lips were on yours, his kiss filled with desperation and longing. But you quickly pulled away, your heart racing. You couldn’t do this—not now. You needed time to figure things out, to give him a chance to prove he could change. If you didn’t stop now, you weren’t sure if you ever could.

Rafe took that as his cue and let go of you, his gaze lingering on your face for a moment before he turned and climbed out of your window, disappearing into the night.

As soon as Rafe disappeared out of the window, you stood frozen, the weight of everything that had just happened crashing down on you. Your heart raced, your breathing uneven, as you stared at the open window where he had just been. The room felt too quiet, the silence pressing down on you like a heavy blanket.

You slowly sank down onto your bed, the same spot where Rafe had been sitting just moments before. His scent still lingered in the air, a reminder of how close you had just been to falling into old patterns. Your mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions—anger, sadness, and that familiar pull of love you wished you didn’t feel anymore.

Tears welled up in your eyes, and this time you didn’t try to hold them back. You let them spill over, hot and heavy, your body shaking with the weight of all the pain and confusion. You hugged yourself as if that could somehow keep you together, but you felt like you were unraveling.

You hated how, despite everything, you had almost kissed him back. You hated how you could still feel the warmth of his touch lingering on your skin, and how a part of you wanted to believe him when he said he needed you. But then, the memories flooded back—the lies, the violence, the betrayal. You couldn’t forget what he had done, not just to others, but to you. How could you let someone who had caused so much harm back into your life?

Yet, underneath the anger and hurt, there was still that small voice in your heart that didn’t want to let go. You loved him, even if you didn’t want to admit it, and that made everything harder. The Rafe you knew, the one who cried in your arms just now, wasn’t the same Rafe who had shot his sister, who had broken so many promises. It was like loving two different people, and you didn’t know how to reconcile that.

You wiped your tears with the back of your hand, frustration bubbling inside of you. You wanted to be stronger, to move on, but every time Rafe was near, it was like he had a hold on you that you couldn’t break. And the worst part was, you weren’t sure if you wanted to.

As the night stretched on, you lay down in bed, staring up at the ceiling. The room felt colder without him there, but you knew this was how it had to be. Rafe needed to prove he could change, and you needed time—time to heal, time to figure out if you could ever truly forgive him.

But for now, all you could do was lie there, the weight of everything pressing down on your chest, making it hard to breathe. You closed your eyes, hoping for sleep, but knowing that when morning came, the feelings wouldn’t be any easier.

TAGS: @wearemadeofstardust0 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @thepopcultureaddict @deeznuggetsbebussin @wtfdudesblog @davinashifts333@pvyden

[tanjamikaelson]

BEST FRIEND'S BROTHER - CHAPTER 28

MASTERLIST

CHAPTER 28: | I HATE THAT I LOVE YOU |

As the boat sliced through the water, Topper handed Sarah a blanket, his hands shaking slightly as he passed her a cup of tea. "Hey, Topper," Sarah's voice was soft, barely audible above the hum of the engine. "Thank you."

Topper’s lips curved into a small smile, his eyes flickering with warmth and concern. "Of course," he replied, his voice tender as if trying to comfort her without saying too much. He glanced toward the horizon, then back at Sarah, "I know somewhere we can warm up. I know somewhere you'll be safe, okay?"

Sarah nodded, her eyes still wide with lingering fear. She clutched the blanket tighter around her shoulders, seeking warmth that went beyond the physical. She then looked over at you, curled up across from her, hugging your knees to your chest as if trying to shield yourself from the storm inside. You’d been so quiet, lost in your thoughts, haunted by the events that had just unfolded. You wiped a tear from your eye with the back of your hand when your gaze met Sarah’s, her face a mirror of the pain and shock you were feeling.

The weight of the decision pressed down on you like a tidal wave. It had been building inside you since the moment you saw what Rafe had become, but the finality of your words now felt like stepping off a cliff. "I will," you whispered, your voice breaking the silence, barely more than a breath. Sarah’s brow furrowed in confusion for a moment before realization dawned on her face.

"I will testify against him," you continued, your voice thick with emotion, your heart aching with the enormity of what you were saying. You sniffed, fighting back another wave of tears, the memories of Rafe—of what he once was to you—flooding your mind. But you knew it was the right thing to do. It wasn’t just about Sarah any more. It was about justice, about breaking free from the grip Rafe had on you.

Sarah nodded slowly, her expression softening into one of understanding. She knew what this meant for you—how difficult it was to say those words out loud. She understood that love like the one you shared with Rafe didn’t just disappear overnight, no matter how much damage he had done. "I know this is hard for you," she whispered, her voice gentle, not wanting to pressure you further.

Topper steered the boat to his cabin, a quiet place away from the chaos. His movements were calm, but you could sense the protectiveness behind them. He was making sure you and Sarah were as far from harm as possible. When you arrived, he assured Sarah, "You can stay here as long as you need. Both of you." His voice was steady, almost as if he were trying to convince himself that everything would be okay.

Sarah gave him a grateful smile, though her eyes still carried the weight of what had just happened. You stayed close to her, deciding not to leave her side, not when she had just been through so much. The fear in her eyes mirrored your own, and in that moment, you both knew—you couldn't face this alone.

•°•°•°•°•°•

In the soft morning light, you and Sarah stirred awake as Topper entered the cabin, a tray of breakfast in his hands. His presence brought an unexpected warmth to the room, but there was still an underlying tension from the previous night's events. After a brief conversation with Sarah, filled with gratitude and small smiles, he left, telling you both that he'd prepare the boat so you could head out soon.

When you and Sarah finally made your way back to the water, you heard her excited shout before you even saw them.

"John B?" Sarah’s voice rang out, full of disbelief as the boat neared the group of pogues. “John B!” Her eyes lit up, wide with shock and happiness.

As the boat docked, she quickly glanced at you, her eyes gleaming with joy. "Oh my God, he's out!" The smile on her face was so genuine, so filled with hope that you couldn’t help but smile back, despite the heaviness you still carried from everything that had happened.

John B greeted her with a simple "Hi," but the moment he stepped forward, Sarah rushed out of the boat, laughing as she threw her arms around him.

"I'm so glad you're okay," she said, her voice thick with relief. "I didn’t know if I’d see you again. What happened?"

"Uh, they dropped all the charges," John B explained, still sounding as if he couldn’t quite believe it himself.

Sarah pulled back slightly, blinking in surprise. "What?"

"Yeah, no, yeah, I'm a free man. Yeah." His tone was light, but there was something serious in the way he looked at her.

“That’s amazing.” Sarah's hands found his face, her relief tangible, her smile growing wider as the reality of the situation settled in.

“I know. It’s great, but…” John B started, his voice growing more somber as he glanced at you and then back at Sarah. “But listen, Sarah, they’re coming after Rafe.”

At the mention of Rafe, your heart clenched. You swallowed hard, trying to keep your emotions in check. Sarah noticed your reaction, her eyes flicking to you briefly before looking down at the ground, her expression darkening.

"Good," she said, her voice low. "He's completely unhinged. He jumped me last night."

“What?” Kiara’s voice cut through the air, her shock evident.

“That’s why I didn’t come back.” Sarah’s words were hurried, trying to explain, but the weight of them still hung heavy in the air.

"Yeah, I was there," you added quietly, your voice barely above a whisper, the memory of Rafe’s actions still fresh in your mind.

"Yeah, man, Rafe has lost his mind," Topper chimed in, stepping forward. His face was tight, his usual cocky demeanor replaced with something more serious. “Literally almost drowned his own sister. Thankfully, I got there just in time.”

Sarah nodded, confirming his words. “Yeah, he did.”

John B took a deep breath, his jaw tightening. "Well, I guess I owe you one, Topper, don’t I?" His tone was calm, but there was a subtle tension between him and Topper.

Topper scoffed lightly, trying to brush off the gravity of the situation. "It’s all good. I mean, somebody had to rescue your girlfriend, right?"

John B’s face shifted at that, and he turned to Sarah with an expression that was both vulnerable and searching. “Uh, that’s funny because she’s not actually my girlfriend, right?”

“Uh…” Topper laughed awkwardly, but his eyes were fixed on Sarah, waiting for her response. “Well, what is she then?”

“Tell him,” John B encouraged, his voice gentle but firm, prompting Sarah to clarify things.

Sarah looked visibly uncomfortable, fumbling with her words. "I’m... I’m with him." Her voice was hesitant, and it was clear she wasn’t sure how to say it, especially with Topper standing there. Her eyes darted toward you, almost as if asking for reassurance.

You exchanged a quick look with Kie, knowing that there was more to the situation than Sarah was letting on, especially in front of Topper. There were things Sarah didn’t want to say out loud, not with him standing there, watching her.

Topper let out a laugh, but it lacked humor. “Gotcha. You’re with him. Okay, yeah. I just… needed a little clarity there. You guys clear on that? Think I’ll head out. It’s about that time.” His voice held an edge of bitterness, but he tried to keep his tone light.

Sarah stepped closer to his boat, her voice softening. “Topper. Thank you.”

He nodded, his face unreadable, but there was a flicker of something—regret, or maybe disappointment—before he turned away. “Yeah, of course. I’m just glad you’re okay,” he said, before stepping onto his boat and disappearing into the distance, leaving behind a silence that felt heavier than before.

•°•°•°•°•°•

When you returned home, the weight of everything that had happened hung heavy in the air. Your mother stood waiting for you, her expression tight with concern and a trace of impatience. The worry was etched into her face, her arms crossed as she met your gaze.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered as soon as you stepped through the door. “I was with Sarah.”

Your mother’s face softened slightly but still held that parental firmness. “I understand that you want to spend time with her, but you need to tell me when you’re going to stay out all night,” she said, her voice a mix of frustration and concern. Ever since your car accident, her worry for you had only deepened. She couldn’t shake the fear that something worse could happen if you weren’t careful.

“I will, next time. I promise,” you said, guilt tugging at your heartstrings.

There was a pause before your mother sighed, her tone shifting to something more vulnerable. “And you didn’t even tell me Sarah was alive,” she added, her disappointment clear. “I had to find out from somebody else.”

You blinked, realizing how much your silence had kept her in the dark. “I wanted to tell you,” you said quickly, feeling a pang of regret, “But she told me not to say anything...so John B wouldn’t get arrested.”

Your mother nodded, absorbing your words but still processing the larger picture. “I heard they dropped the charges,” she mentioned, her brow furrowing slightly. “And that they’re looking for Rafe.” There was a long pause before she continued, her eyes searching yours. “Do you know anything about that?”

You froze for a moment, feeling the familiar knot of anxiety tighten in your chest. “I do,” you admitted softly, knowing that keeping this from her was impossible.

“Is that the real reason the two of you had a fight?” she asked gently, sensing the hesitation in your voice.

You nodded, but the weight of the full truth sat heavily on your shoulders. “You could say that.”

Your mother shook her head, her disbelief evident. “I just can’t believe Rafe would do something like that. Kill the Sheriff.”

“Yeah, I had a hard time believing it too,” you whispered, your voice small. Talking about Rafe like this, about what he had done, felt like tearing open an old wound you weren’t ready to face. You bit down on your lip, fighting the emotions swirling inside you. “And I can’t talk about it. I’m sorry,” you added hastily, before retreating to your room.

Once inside, you locked the door, pressing your back against it as you slid to the floor. Hugging your knees, you tried to find some comfort, but all you felt was confusion and heartache. Thoughts of Rafe consumed you—how his life was unraveling, how everything had spiraled out of control. They were looking for him, and if they found him, he’d be thrown in prison for the rest of his life. Or worse.

Despite everything, despite what he had done, you still loved him. That part of him—the one that wasn’t completely consumed by darkness and violence—was still etched into your heart, and it hurt. The part of him that made you feel seen, that made you feel important, was the part you clung to, even as the reality of his actions threatened to tear it all apart.

And now, all you could do was sit in the silence of your room, torn between the love you felt and the impossible choices you had to make.

TAGS: @wearemadeofstardust0 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @thepopcultureaddict @deeznuggetsbebussin @wtfdudesblog @davinashifts333@pvyden

[tanjamikaelson]

BEST FRIEND'S BROTHER - CHAPTER 27

MASTERLIST

CHAPTER 27: | I CAN'T DO IT |

The next day, you woke up feeling groggy, the weight of everything that had happened still pressing heavily on your chest. It was late in the afternoon, and as you grabbed your phone, the screen lit up with countless notifications. Message after message from Rafe filled your inbox, each one overflowing with apologies, desperate pleas for you to speak with him. His words were frantic, filled with fear and regret, begging you not to leave him, not to shut him out of your life.

But all you could think was that he should’ve thought about that earlier—before he crossed the line, before he did something so unforgivable. The words on your screen felt hollow, like empty promises. The memory of what Sarah had told you, the reality of what Rafe had done, weighed heavily in your heart. You couldn't just brush it aside, not anymore.

Shutting off your phone, you made your way downstairs to the kitchen where your parents sat, already engaged in conversation. The smell of breakfast filled the air, but you could barely focus on it. Your parents were talking about John B, their voices a mix of shock and confusion.

“He’s been arrested for murdering Sheriff Peterkin,” your mother said, shaking her head as if she couldn’t believe it.

You sat at the table, absentmindedly picking at your food. Their voices were like a dull hum in the background, but every word they said about John B twisted inside of you. They didn’t know the truth. They didn’t know that it wasn’t John B who pulled the trigger—it was Rafe. And now, an innocent person could face the consequences of his actions.

Your throat tightened, and you felt the urge to scream, to tell them the truth, but you knew you couldn’t.

Just as you were about to excuse yourself from the table, your phone rang, pulling you out of your thoughts. It was Sarah. You stood up quickly, mumbling a vague excuse to your parents before retreating back to your room. You didn’t want to hear any more about John B. You didn’t want to think about the injustice of it all.

“Hey,” you answered softly, shutting the door behind you.

“I heard what happened to you,” Sarah’s voice came through the phone, filled with concern. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I feel better now,” you replied, though the words felt half-hearted. You were physically healing, but emotionally, everything still felt raw.

“You shouldn’t have gone to see Rafe,” Sarah said, a tinge of frustration in her voice. “You know this all happened because of him.”

You sighed, knowing she was right. “Maybe. But what’s done is done. I broke up with him.”

There was a moment of silence before Sarah sighed in relief. “That’s good.”

“But he still won’t let me go,” you admitted. “He keeps sending me messages, apologizing, begging me to talk to him.”

“Block him,” Sarah suggested her voice firm.

“Yeah… maybe I will.” But the thought of completely cutting him off left you with a strange, unsettled feeling. You didn’t know if you were ready for that finality just yet.

“Enough about him,” you said, eager to shift the conversation. “I heard about John B. How are you holding up?”

Sarah’s sigh on the other end of the line was heavy, weighed down with fear. “Not good. He might face the death penalty.”

Your heart sank. “Oh my god... But he didn’t do it.”

“I know,” Sarah whispered, the hopelessness in her voice breaking your heart. “But no one believes that.”

You bit your lip, struggling with the frustration building inside of you. “We have to figure something out.”

“Can we see each other later?” Sarah asked, her voice trembling slightly.

“Yeah, just let me take a shower first,” you told her, your body still aching from the bruises the crash had left behind.

“Okay, text me when you’re ready,” Sarah said, her voice softening.

“I will,” you promised before hanging up.

You headed to the bathroom, hoping that a hot shower would help soothe your tense muscles and bruised skin. As the water poured over you, you closed your eyes, trying to let go of everything—Rafe’s messages, the weight of his betrayal, the injustice of John B’s arrest. But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t shake the feeling that your world was spiraling out of control.

•°•°•°•°•°•

Sarah told you where to find her, and without hesitation, you left the house to meet her. The weight of everything that had happened hung over you like a heavy cloud, and you both needed each other’s comfort now more than ever.

When you saw Sarah, relief flooded through you, and you immediately wrapped your arms around her in a tight hug. She clung to you just as tightly, her body trembling slightly as if holding onto you gave her some sense of stability in the midst of the chaos. The hug lasted longer than usual, and neither of you wanted to let go.

After pulling back slightly, Sarah’s gaze drifted to the cut on your forehead. Her fingers hovered near it but didn’t touch. “How did you crash your car?”

You sighed, your breath shaky as you tried to piece together the events. “I don’t really remember. I was driving back home after a fight with Rafe, and I was crying… my vision was blurry, and then—” You paused, reliving the moment. “—all I felt was someone crashing into the side of my car.”

Sarah’s eyes widened, concern etched on her face. “And they just drove off?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, bitterness creeping into your voice. “The police still haven’t found who it was.”

Sarah frowned, disbelief written all over her features. “But it wasn’t your fault.”

You gave her a half-hearted smile, one that didn’t reach your eyes. “I know, but it doesn’t change anything.”

For a moment, Sarah was silent, processing everything. Then she looked at you again, her tone shifting. “You were lucky somebody called an ambulance.”

Your heart skipped a beat as you hesitated, unsure how to explain. “Uh, it was Rafe, actually.”

Sarah recoiled slightly, shock washing over her. “Rafe?!”

“Yeah,” you said softly, rubbing the back of your neck. “He followed me home and called the ambulance as soon as he found me. My mom told me he stayed in the hospital all night.”

Sarah’s face twisted with a mix of disbelief and frustration. “I mean… he’s the reason you were driving in that state.”

“I know,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “And he knows that too.”

There was a heavy silence between you, and both of you were caught in the tension of everything that had happened. It felt like the world had become too complicated, too dark. Then, after what felt like an eternity, Sarah spoke again, her voice hesitant.

“So... this might be bad timing to ask,” she began, biting her lip nervously, “But would you testify against him? You were there, you saw what he did.”

Her words sent a jolt of anxiety through you, and your heart pounded in your chest. You had known this question was coming, but you had never imagined just how difficult it would be to answer. “Sarah...” you swallowed hard, trying to find the right words. “I don’t know if I can.”

Sarah’s shoulders slumped, disappointment flashing across her face. She looked down, avoiding your gaze. “Okay, I understand.” Her voice was quiet, a little broken. “But if you change your mind, let me know.”

You nodded, feeling a pang of guilt. “Okay.”

The weight of your answer hung between you both, but Sarah didn’t push any further. She just gave you a sad smile, trying to understand.

“I’m thinking of asking Wheezie to do it,” Sarah said, breaking the silence. “She knows Rafe wasn’t home that day.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. “You’re going to tell her what Rafe did?”

Sarah let out a sigh, the desperation evident in her voice. “I don’t know what else to do.”

You hesitated, unsure how to respond. Dragging Wheezie into this mess seemed risky, but you understood Sarah’s desperation to find some way to bring the truth to light.

“I texted her to meet me,” Sarah continued, glancing at her phone. “Do you want to come with me?”

You nodded, even though your heart still felt heavy. “Yeah, okay.” You knew you couldn’t let her face this alone.

•°•°•°•°•°•

You and Sarah went to the docks, searching for Wheezie, the air heavy with anticipation. The darkness around you made it harder to see, but the hope of reuniting with Wheezie pushed you forward. “I’ll go look over there, maybe I’ll see her,” you said, trying to make sense of the shadows that surrounded you.

But suddenly, Sarah heard a voice. Her heart leaped. “Wheezie?” she called out, her voice hopeful as she moved toward the sound. “Wheezie, is that you?” A small smile started to form on her lips.

The smile quickly faded when she realized it wasn’t her sister.

“Nah, not Wheezie,” came Rafe’s cold voice, emerging from the shadows. His presence turned the atmosphere heavy, filled with an intensity that suffocated any hope Sarah had moments before.

Sarah’s body tensed, every instinct telling her to run, but there was nowhere to go. “Where the hell is Wheezie?” she demanded, stepping back, trying to distance herself from her brother.

“Don’t worry about it,” Rafe replied calmly, but there was something off, something terrifying in his calm demeanor. He raised his hands, trying to show peace, but his eyes were wild, desperate. “Listen, I just… I just needed to talk to you, like, a little bit. Is that okay?”

“Don’t come near me,” Sarah warned, holding her hand out like a shield. Her heart pounded, her palms damp with sweat. She was scared, scared of what he might do.

“Cause… ‘cause what you do, Sarah, affects me, okay?” Rafe’s words tumbled out, his hands tapping the sides of his head as if trying to organize the chaotic thoughts swirling inside. “You don’t… you don’t think of that, do you?”

The memory of his betrayal, of him shooting her, flooded her mind. “You shot me, Rafe!” she said, with disbelief and fear in her voice.

"That's it, right? It's… it's always my fault, right?” Rafe's frustration spilled over, his voice growing louder.. “Like, uh… you know, I… I wanna keep Y/N. I wanna keep what's mine, that I got by my work, and I'm the bad guy for trying to… to hold on to it?”

Sarah shook her head, not understanding how he could twist reality like this. “It’s not yours. Y/N is not yours.”

But Rafe ignored her, his anger building“Like I’m wrong to protect what’s mine, huh?” His voice rose, his frustration boiling over as he stepped closer. Sarah took another step back, her heart racing. He noticed her retreat and forced himself to calm down, taking a deep breath. “Listen to me, okay? The cops are going to talk to you, and… and I need to make sure the story’s straight because—”

“You killed Peterkin,” Sarah interrupted, her voice steady despite the terror clawing at her.

Rafe’s jaw clenched, his face hardening as he tried to keep control of his emotions. “My story’s straight,” Sarah continued, standing firm. "Listen, this would go so much better for you if you would just—" Sarah tried to reason with him.

Rafe's temper flared again. “Who are you trying to protect here? Huh?” he snapped, cold fury in his voice.

“I’m trying to do the right thing,” Sarah replied, her eyes full of determination.

Rafe let out a bitter laugh, his emotions swirling. “You doing the right thing is the reason you got shot. Because you were following John B.”

“John B might get the death penalty because of you!” Sarah shouted, her voice trembling with rage and pain.

“That!” Rafe roared back, pointing at her, his face contorted in anger. “That right there. That’s..that’s exactly what I’m talking about, Sarah. You know..." He sat down, his voice turning eerily calm. "You've always been against me."

“No, I haven’t,” Sarah whispered, her voice cracking under the weight of their shattered bond.

“Don’t shake your head. And you still are.” Rafe accused, his voice chilling, “No, no, no, no. You're not just against me. You're… you're against us. We're your family, and you're against us." He stood up straight, the weight of his words pressing down on her like a physical force. “You know, Dad always takes your side, right? ‘Cause you cry in front of him like you’re crying in front of me now. But you listen to me.” His voice dropped to a whisper, full of cold determination. “I’m a proactive type of person, Sarah, and we have a problem. And I gotta solve that problem tonight. Do you understand?” His voice rose again, the intensity in his eyes terrifying. “Do you understand?”

The moment turned terrifying as his words hit Sarah like a cold wind. He was dangerous. She had to get away.

You were returning to find Sarah when you noticed Topper standing nearby, hiding in the shadows. “Topper, what are you doing here?” you whispered, your voice low.

“Shh,” Topper hissed, holding a finger to his lips. You furrowed your brow in confusion and peeked over his shoulder, your heart stopping when you saw Rafe with Sarah instead of Wheezie.

Panic surged through you as you watched the interaction, your body trembling as fear gnawed at your insides. You wanted to run toward them, to help Sarah, but Topper grabbed your arm, holding you back.

Then, without warning, Sarah bolted. Your heart leaped into your throat as Rafe chased after her.

“Whoa, whoa, Sarah! Where you going, Sarah?” Rafe growled, catching up to her and grabbing her arms. Sarah struggled, her screams filling the night air as Rafe dragged her back.

“No, Rafe! Stop!” Sarah screamed, her voice high and panicked as she struggled against him, but he was too strong. She could feel the fear clawing at her chest, threatening to choke her as he dragged her towards a large water tank.

Without warning, Rafe slammed her back against the edge of the tank, his hands gripping her arms with a force that made her cry out in pain. “Rafe, stop! It’s… it’s Sarah,” she gasped, her breath coming in frantic bursts as she clung to his t-shirt, desperately trying to reach him, trying to remind him that she was his sister. “It’s your sister. Please… please don’t.”

“What about me, huh?” Rafe’s voice cracked, a single tear slipping from his eye. “You’d have me fry.”

“No!” Sarah yelled, but her plea was cut short as Rafe dunked her under the water, holding her down as she struggled and thrashed against him. The cold water filled her nose and mouth, making her choke and sputter as she fought for air.

“Rafe!” you screamed, your voice echoing in the distance. But Rafe didn’t hear you. His mind was lost, consumed by his anger and desperation.

Rafe yanked her out of the water, her gasping breaths filling the air as she tried to find her footing, her vision swimming. “You brought this on yourself,” he spat, his voice dripping with venom.

“Rafe! Rafe!” Sarah choked out, but he didn’t listen. He dunked her again, holding her down longer this time, the water rushing into her lungs as she fought desperately against his grip.

“This is on you! Your decisions,” Rafe shouted, his voice full of anger and bitterness. “This is what you get, Sarah. This is what you get for pushing Y/N away from me.” He growled loudly, his grip tightening as she fought against him, her struggles growing weaker with each passing second.

Topper rushed forward, slamming into Rafe and knocking him to the ground. Sarah gasped as she was released, water splashing around her as she struggled to breathe.

“Sarah! Sarah!” you cried, running to her side and pulling her from the tank. “Are you okay?” You held her tightly, tears of relief spilling down your face as you helped her stand. “Come on, you’re safe now.”

But your attention quickly shifted as you heard the sickening thud of Topper’s fists connecting with Rafe’s face. Blood sprayed from Rafe’s mouth, his body collapsing under the force of Topper’s rage.

“Rafe, if you ever touch her again…” Topper shouted, each punch more brutal than the last, his voice raw with fury. “If you ever touch her again, I’m gonna kill you. You got that?”

Rafe lay still, broken and bloodied, his face barely recognizable. The world around him blurred as he realized the gravity of what he’d done. His desperation, his madness—it had cost him everything.

TAGS: @wearemadeofstardust0 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @thepopcultureaddict @deeznuggetsbebussin @wtfdudesblog @davinashifts333 @pvyden

[tanjamikaelson]

in another universe, I’m not hard to love and it’s easy making friends 

[tanjamikaelson]

if you slide in the DMs claiming you “want to get to know” someone but really you’re just hoping you’ll get nudes/sexting out of them, then you’re trash and a lil predatory but that’s just my opinion 🙃

[tanjamikaelson]

Having a good heart fucks you up in this generation.

[tanjamikaelson]

BEST FRIEND'S BROTHER - CHAPTER 26

MASTERLIST

CHAPTER 26: | WRECK |

You parked your car in front of Barry's trailer, gripping the steering wheel as you tried to find the courage to face Rafe. The air was heavy, your heart thudding in your chest as you sat there for a few moments, staring at the trailer in front of you. You knew what was waiting inside—a version of Rafe you barely recognized anymore. But you had to go in. You had to know what was happening to him.

With a deep breath, you exited the car, your footsteps hesitant as you walked toward the door. You paused for a moment, the fear gnawing at your insides, but then you pushed the door open. The place was quiet, Barry wasn’t in sight, and for once, there weren’t any other addicts hanging around. It was just Rafe, sitting on the couch, his eyes bloodshot, remnants of cocaine scattered across the table in front of him.

"Rafe," you said softly, your voice shaking as you took in the sight of him.

Rafe's jaw clenched, but he didn’t look up at you. His fingers flexed around the armrest, his entire body tense. "I told you not to come."

"I had to," you whispered, stepping closer despite the warning in his voice. "I had to see you."

His eyes remained fixed on the table, his voice a cold, cutting edge. "Well, I don’t want to see you." He spat the words, doing what he always did when he felt cornered—turning the situation against you. "If you want to be with pogues like Sarah, go and be with them. I won’t hold you back."

You shook your head, trying to keep the tears from spilling over. "No. I just went to see her, Rafe." The silence between you was unbearable, the weight of the truth crushing you as you forced the words out, your voice barely audible. "Rafe—You... you shot her."

His eyes flickered up at you, his expression cold, detached. "I know. And I don’t care that I did."

Your heart broke at the emptiness in his voice. You wanted to shake him, to bring him back to the Rafe you once knew—the Rafe who loved you, who would do anything for you. "She almost died," you whispered, hoping to break through whatever wall he’d built around himself.

"Too bad she didn’t." His words were like a slap in the face, and your knees nearly buckled under the weight of them.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" you screamed, your voice filled with pain and anger, unable to contain it any longer.

Rafe shot up from the couch, towering over you with a dangerous look in his eyes. "What’s wrong with me?" he chuckled darkly, the sound bitter. "She betrayed us! She’s going to get everything she deserves!"

You knew the drugs had taken over, warping his mind, but the venom in his words was undeniable. Your chest tightened, your hands trembling. You couldn't keep lying to yourself. This was who he had become—this was the Rafe he was choosing to be.

Tears welled up in your eyes, spilling over as you took a shaky step back. "I can't do this anymore," you screamed, your voice breaking as you looked at him, hoping to find even a flicker of the man you loved.

Rafe’s eyes darkened, his face twisted with anger. "I knew it. You’re choosing her—just like everyone else!" he yelled, his voice growing louder, more desperate. "Nobody ever chooses me! Nobody sees what I’m doing for this family!"

"You can’t expect people to choose you when you go around killing people!" you shot back, your voice raw with emotion. "You shot your own sister, Rafe. How do I know you won’t try to kill me too?"

For a split second, his expression softened, as if your words had finally reached him. "I would never do that to you," he whispered, his voice almost pleading.

But you couldn’t believe him. Not after what you’d seen. Not after the lies. "I can never be sure of that anymore."

His face twisted again, anger flashing in his eyes. "She’s filling your head with lies! She wants to turn you against me!" He stepped forward, his voice rising again, desperate to pull you back to his side.

"No," you said, your voice steady, though your heart was breaking. "You’re the one lying to me. You’re the one who’s turning me against you." The words were final as they left your lips. You turned to leave, but before you could take more than a step, you felt his hand wrap tightly around your wrist, pulling you back.

"Let go of me!" you screamed, yanking your arm free, your heart pounding in your chest as fear and anger took over.

Rafe stood frozen as you stormed out the door, his hand hanging in the air as if he couldn’t believe you were really leaving. He didn’t move as you got into your car, watching helplessly as you sped away. Inside, he felt something shatter, but he was too far gone, too deep in his own darkness to pull himself out.

•°•°•°•°•°•

The drive home was a blur of tears and blurred lines. You could barely see through the mist of your emotions and the storm of tears clouding your vision. Every thought, every image of Rafe—his coldness, his anger—flashed through your mind. Your heart ached, and you pushed the gas pedal harder, wanting to get home as quickly as possible, desperate for the safety of your room. But your mind was far from clear, and the road ahead seemed to blend into the chaos inside you.

You didn’t see the other car until it was too late.

The sickening sound of metal colliding, the jolt of impact, the world spinning, and then... darkness.

When you finally opened your eyes, the sterile white walls of a hospital room greeted you, so bright they made you squint. Confusion washed over you as you realized you weren’t at home. You weren’t safe. You were in a hospital bed.

"Mom?" you whispered, your voice weak and scratchy. The weight of exhaustion settled over you.

Your mother, sitting beside you, shot to her feet, her eyes brimming with relief. "Thank God you're awake," she said, her voice trembling.

You struggled to remember. "What... what happened?" you asked, your memory hazy, a jumble of flashes from the accident.

"You crashed your car," your mother explained, her voice filled with concern. "You're lucky, sweetheart. Rafe found you."

Her words hit you like a punch to the chest. "What do you mean he found me?" You stared at her, trying to make sense of what she was saying.

Your mother nodded gently. "He said you two had a fight, and he followed you to make sure you got home safely." She hesitated, watching your reaction closely. "He’s in the waiting room if you want to see him."

"No!" you blurted out, panic rising in your chest. "I don’t want to see him."

Your mother blinked, surprised by the intensity of your response. "Okay, honey, okay. But he’s really sorry. He blames himself."

You swallowed hard, bitterness rising in your throat. "As he should," you muttered under your breath, the pain and anger surging within you once more.

Your mother sighed, clearly not understanding the full extent of what had happened. "I should call a doctor," she said softly, standing up and leaving the room.

As soon as she was gone, you exhaled, feeling a mixture of relief and dread. But that relief was short-lived. The door creaked open again, and when you looked over, it wasn’t a doctor. It was Rafe.

He stood there, his face pale and drawn, staring at you like he was afraid you might disappear if he blinked. Slowly, he stepped closer, guilt written all over his face.

"I’m so sorry, baby," Rafe whispered, his voice trembling. "I shouldn’t have let you leave like that. I should’ve stopped you."

You turned your head, unable to look at him, the tears welling up in your eyes again. Everything inside you screamed to push him away, to protect yourself from the person he had become.

"Please, look at me," he begged, his voice breaking, the desperation clear. You could hear that he wasn’t high anymore. He wasn’t on drugs now. He had sobered up, but it wasn’t enough to heal the damage that had already been done.

You felt the soft brush of his fingers as he reached for your hand, and instinctively, you yanked it away, your heart shattering all over again.

"Just go," you whispered, your voice barely audible, but the pain in your words cut deep. You couldn’t bear to face him, not like this.

Rafe hovered there, uncertain, wanting to say more, wanting to fix everything, but the moment was lost. He flinched when your mother returned with the doctor, the door swinging open with an unwelcome interruption. He took a step back, his mouth opening and closing as if he were about to say something else, but no words came out. Defeated, he left the room without another word, his presence vanishing as quickly as it had appeared.

The doctor came over and checked on you, his tone gentle as he explained that you were lucky. No broken bones, just unconsciousness for a few hours and some scratches from the shattered window. But as he spoke, you barely heard him. Your mind was elsewhere, caught between the hurt and betrayal swirling in your heart.

After a few more hours of rest, they finally let you go home. You climbed into bed as soon as you got back, the familiar comfort of your room doing little to ease the storm of emotions raging inside you.

Your mother sat on the edge of your bed, her expression a mix of concern and curiosity. "What happened with Rafe?" she asked carefully, her voice soft but probing.

The question sent a fresh wave of anxiety crashing over you. You couldn’t tell her the full truth. You couldn’t tell her that the boy you loved had spiraled so far out of control that he’d shot his own sister.

"He uses drugs," you said, your voice shaky but steady enough to be believable. "I can’t deal with him anymore."

Your mother’s brow furrowed in concern. "Did he ever offer you drugs?"

"No." You shook your head, desperate to distance yourself from Rafe’s destructive habits. "He never did. It’s just... he’s not the same when he’s high. He becomes someone else—someone I don’t recognize."

She nodded, understanding dawning on her face. "If he really loves you, he’ll stop. The drugs won’t bring him any good."

"Yeah," you whispered, "That’s what I told him."

Satisfied for the moment, your mother left the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You lay in bed, clutching your pillow tightly, trying to shut out the memories of the last few days. But sleep didn’t come easily. Your mind kept spinning, replaying every moment, every word, every look Rafe had given you.

And as much as you wanted to believe he could change, a part of you knew that this might be the end.

RAFE'S P.O.V:

After you stormed out of Barry’s trailer, leaving behind the weight of your final words, Rafe stood there in a suffocating silence. His mind spun with thoughts of losing you—of how everything was spiraling out of control, how Sarah had ruined everything by dragging you into this mess. He needed you, more than he could ever admit, but in that moment, he felt like he was losing you. He knew he couldn’t let that happen.

With heavy footsteps, he exited the trailer, his heart pounding in his chest as he walked towards his car. The anger still simmered under his skin, but the guilt was starting to bubble up too. He fumbled with his keys, frustration surging as he realized just how deeply he had pushed you away. Rafe knew he had to follow you, to find you and make things right.

As he drove down the road, his headlights illuminating the dark, deserted street, he saw it—your car, crashed on the side of the road. His breath caught in his throat, his heart sinking. The passenger side of your car was completely crushed. Panic surged through him like a wave, drowning every rational thought.

Without thinking, he slammed on the brakes and pulled over, barely putting the car in park before he was running towards you. His heart hammered in his chest as he threw open the driver's door, his hands trembling as he reached for you.

“Y/N,” he choked out, his voice breaking as his hands gently touched your face. “Wake up. Please wake up.”

You were breathing, but you were unconscious, your body limp against the seat. The sight of you, so still, tore through him like a knife. He ran his fingers through your hair, his mind racing with a hundred different fears. He shook you gently, desperate for any sign of life beyond the shallow rise and fall of your chest.

“Come on, baby. Please…” His voice cracked, filled with desperation, knowing he couldn’t lose you. Not now. Not like this.

When you didn’t respond, Rafe’s panic spiked. He fumbled for his phone, his hands shaking as he dialed for an ambulance. His voice was frantic, barely coherent as he told them about the accident and your condition. Every second felt like an eternity as he waited, his gaze never leaving you, praying that you’d open your eyes.

The ambulance arrived quickly, the flashing lights cutting through the darkness. Rafe stayed by your side as the paramedics arrived, watching helplessly as they lifted you onto a stretcher and placed you into the ambulance. His heart pounded with fear as he followed the ambulance to the hospital, his mind a mess of guilt, anger, and desperation. He called your mother, his voice trembling as he explained what had happened, his own shame barely contained as he told her you were on your way to the hospital.

The waiting room felt like a prison. Each minute dragged on painfully, the ticking of the clock in the sterile hospital room driving him to the edge of his sanity. He couldn’t sit still. He couldn’t think straight. His mind kept replaying the sight of your unconscious body, your car crushed on the side of the road, and the horrifying thought that it was all his fault.

He stared at the door to your room, his pulse pounding in his ears. The door opened, and when he saw your mother leave to fetch the doctor, his body moved on autopilot. He needed to see you.

When he stepped into the room, the sight of you lying so still in that hospital bed nearly broke him. The weight of his guilt came crashing down all at once. Every fight, every word he had thrown at you in anger, every mistake he'd made… it all came back, suffocating him. He blamed himself for everything—for the accident, for the fight, for putting you in this position.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” Rafe whispered as he approached you, his voice hoarse with regret. “I shouldn’t have let you leave like that. I should’ve stopped you.”

But you didn’t look at him. You turned your head away, tears brimming in your eyes, and his heart shattered in a way he hadn’t thought possible. The distance between you, the emotional chasm that had grown wider and wider, felt insurmountable. He had driven you to this—pushed you to a place where you couldn’t even bear to look at him.

“Look at me, please,” Rafe pleaded, his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions. He reached out, his fingers brushing against your hand, desperate to hold onto you, to feel some kind of connection.

But when you pulled your hand away, rejecting his touch, it felt like a final blow. He swallowed hard, trying to keep the emotion from overwhelming him. "Just go!" you cried out, your voice filled with pain.

In that moment, everything inside him collapsed. He wanted to say so much more—to tell you that he didn’t mean the things he’d said, that he was scared of losing you, that he didn’t know how to fix the mess he’d made. But the words stuck in his throat. He could see that you were done with him, and it broke him.

“I—” Rafe began, his voice a mere whisper, but he was interrupted when your mother returned with the doctor. He stood there, feeling helpless and defeated as the doctor examined you, making sure you were okay.

Rafe had no choice but to leave. He swallowed back the lump in his throat, retreating from the room, but the guilt was still there, eating him alive. As he walked out of the hospital, the weight of what he had done pressed down on him like a heavy blanket. He wanted to scream, to cry, to hit something—anything to release the storm inside him. But he couldn’t. He just kept walking, the memory of your tear-filled eyes haunting him.

And as much as he wanted to blame Sarah for turning you against him, deep down, he knew that this was his fault. He had pushed you away, he had hurt you, and now... he was terrified that he’d lost you forever.

TAGS: @wearemadeofstardust0 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @thepopcultureaddict @deeznuggetsbebussin @wtfdudesblog @davinashifts333

[tanjamikaelson]

BEST FRIEND'S BROTHER - CHAPTER 25

MASTERLIST

CHAPTER 25: | UNHINGED |

The next day, Rafe was drowning his anxieties in alcohol at the Country Club, surrounded by his kook friends. Despite the lively atmosphere, the noise around him felt distant, like a dull roar echoing in his head. The weight of everything—the lies, the guilt, and the fear of Sarah's return—pressed down on him, suffocating. He was on edge, and the alcohol wasn’t helping.

Rafe waved lazily at the bartender, his words slurring as he requested another drink. His eyes were glazed, and unfocused, and his movements unsteady. As he turned back to his group, his voice raised above the surrounding chatter, drawing attention from the tables nearby.

"Bro, the kick on a GLOCK…" Rafe began, mimicking the motion of firing a gun, his hands shaky. "You load it up, line it up, and it's like—Yah! Like, damn!" He stumbled into a man sitting next to him, almost spilling his drink in the process.

The man, irritated, turned to face him. "Hey, excuse me," he said, trying to keep his composure.

Rafe blinked, struggling to focus on the man’s face. "Yeah?" he slurred, barely managing to stand upright.

"Do you mind?" the man repeated, his patience clearly wearing thin.

Rafe leaned in closer, his breath heavy with alcohol, mumbling, "I’m sorry." But the words lacked any real sincerity, coming out as an empty mutter.

"Do you mind?" the man repeated, his tone more insistent now.

Rafe’s face twisted into a lazy grin as he looked at the man, his confrontational side starting to creep in. "Yeah, I do mind, Bob," he replied mockingly. The man, whose name wasn’t even Bob, looked away, trying to ignore him.

But Rafe wasn’t done. "Take a shot with me, pussy." He grabbed a glass of tequila and splashed it across the table in front of Bob. "Come on. Take a shot."

The man stood up abruptly, shoving Rafe back. "What the hell are you doing?"

Rafe barely registered the shove, his body swaying as he pointed at the man, his anger bubbling up. "Take a seat. That’s what you need to do."

Kelce, sensing the situation escalating, quickly stepped between them, grabbing Rafe by the shoulders. "Whoa, whoa!" he said, trying to de-escalate the situation before it got worse.

"Get the manager. He’s crazy!" the man yelled, backing away from Rafe, who was now visibly agitated.

"Eat shit," Rafe spat, his wild eyes locking onto the man as he pointed aggressively.

"Hey," Kelce said, his voice calm but firm. "Look at me, Rafe. Look at me."

"What?" Rafe snapped, his head whipping toward Kelce, eyes bloodshot with a mix of alcohol and pent-up rage.

"Look at me," Kelce repeated, his grip tightening on Rafe’s shoulders. "Calm down, all right?"

Rafe tried to catch his breath, his chest heaving. "Nobody’ll drink with me," he started to rant, his voice raw and erratic. "I swear to—"

But before Rafe could finish, Kelce leaned in, lowering his voice urgently. "Hey! I swear to God, I just saw John B and your sister, bro. They’re alive."

Rafe’s expression shifted instantly, disbelief clouding his features. "I’m trying to relax, and you’re telling me this bullshit?" he hissed, his anger boiling over again, though now it was laced with a hint of fear.

"I know you're trying to relax, bro, but I swear, I saw them. They were buying beer at Geechie’s. Alive," Kelce insisted, his voice steady despite Rafe’s volatile reaction.

"Freaking bullshit," Rafe muttered, his mind racing with the possibility, anger mixing with confusion. He wanted to ignore it, to push it out of his mind, but the gnawing fear that Kelce might be right gripped him.

"You wanna go see for yourself?" Kelce challenged, sensing Rafe’s uncertainty. "I’m telling you, I saw them. Go sober up, man."

Rafe stumbled out of the Country Club with Kelce trailing behind, his mind spinning. "Put it on Cameron!" he yelled drunkenly, waving at the bartender as they made their way out. But all he could think about now was what Kelce had said—and if Sarah really was alive.

•°•°•°•°•°•

You had been sitting in your room the whole day, buried in homework to catch up after missing so many days of school. But your mind wasn’t on the assignments. Rafe hadn’t replied to your messages. He hadn’t even sent you the promised text last night. You tried to shake off the growing anxiety, but worry gnawed at you. Was he okay?

The sound of a notification on your phone snapped you out of your thoughts, and you grabbed it quickly, heart racing, hoping it was Rafe. But it wasn’t him. It was Sarah, using Kie’s phone. She was asking you to come to the chateau. Your heart skipped a beat. Sarah was back. Alive.

Without a second thought, you jumped out of bed, happiness bubbling inside you. You threw on some clothes, rushed downstairs, and told your parents you were going out. Your mind raced the entire way to John B’s house, replaying the last time you’d seen Sarah in the Bahamas. She was really alive.

When you arrived at the chateau, you found them sitting around a fire. "Sarah," you called out, your voice shaky with emotion as you rushed toward her, wrapping your arms tightly around her. "Oh my god, I’m so happy you’re alive! I saw you at the Bahamas!" The relief in your voice was evident as you pulled back, searching her face to make sure it was real.

Sarah returned the hug, but her expression was serious. "I saw you too," she replied softly, her eyes searching yours. Then, she asked the question you hadn’t expected. "You’re still with Rafe?"

You hesitated for a moment but then nodded. "Yeah..."

Her next words hit you like a punch to the gut. "He shot me."

Your eyes widened, disbelief washing over you. "What?"

"You didn’t know?" Sarah asked, her voice steady but filled with the weight of her truth. She pulled up her shorts slightly, revealing bandages on her side. "I almost died, for real."

The world seemed to tilt on its axis. You felt like someone had just twisted a knife in your heart. Rafe had shot his own sister? The man you loved, the one you thought you knew so well, had done something this horrific? "Oh my God," you whispered, stumbling backward, your legs threatening to give out beneath you. Sarah grabbed your hands, steadying you. "He… I knew he was hiding something, but this?" Tears welled up in your eyes, your voice cracking as the words spilled out. The reality of it hit you like a wave, threatening to drown you.

Before you could say anything more, John B and JJ called out, warning that they heard a car approaching. Panic surged through you as you all quickly scrambled up into a nearby tree, hiding just before Rafe and Barry appeared, prowling through the yard like predators on the hunt.

Rafe’s voice pierced the night, dark and dangerous. "Where the hell are you?" he muttered, his eyes scanning the shadows with a terrifying intensity. Your heart pounded in your chest, your breathing shallow as you tried to stay as still and quiet as possible.

"Yo! Anything?" Rafe called out to Barry, who was inside the house, the sound of shattering glass punctuating his search.

"No, ain’t shit in here, bro," Barry replied, frustration coloring his voice.

"They were obviously just here based on the smoke," Rafe growled, his frustration palpable as his eyes landed on the still-smoking fire. His grip on the gun in his hand tightened, and your fear spiked.

"Yeah, yeah, great observation, boy scout," Barry mocked from inside, his tone laced with sarcasm.

Your pulse quickened, and you exchanged a terrified glance with Sarah. The weapon in Rafe’s hands, the violent look in his eyes—it was all too much. You’d seen this side of him before, but now it felt different. It felt more dangerous, more unhinged.

"They gotta be around here somewhere," Rafe muttered, pacing beneath the tree. He paused when he spotted the memorial carved into the trunk.

"P4L," Barry read aloud, smirking. "Well, shit."

Rafe chuckled darkly, pointing the gun at the tree. "Your sister’s a Pogue for life, huh, Rafe? Who would’ve thought?"

You held your breath, gripping the tree so tightly your knuckles turned white. Fear clawed at your throat as you prayed Rafe wouldn’t fire. You couldn’t believe this was happening—that this was the same person you loved.

Rafe stood still for a moment, nodding as if agreeing with Barry, but his expression twisted, torn between hurt and fury. You could see it bubbling under the surface, ready to explode.

"SHIT!" Rafe suddenly screamed, the sound cutting through the quiet night. Your entire body froze in terror.

Barry laughed at Rafe’s outburst, but it was short-lived. Rafe’s rage exploded, and he fired a shot into the tree. The bullet slammed into the wood just inches from where JJ was hiding. The force of it nearly made you lose your balance.

"Hey! Whoa! Chill, bro!" Barry shouted, grabbing Rafe’s arm and wrestling the gun away from him. "You’re gonna get our asses busted, dawg. Let’s bounce."

Your heart pounded in your chest as you watched Rafe and Barry disappear into the distance. You couldn’t shake the image of Rafe firing that gun in blind rage—it was a side of him you had never truly seen before, or maybe you had been too blinded by love to notice. When you finally climbed down from the tree, your legs trembled so badly that you almost collapsed.

“He’s totally unhinged,” Sarah muttered, her voice filled with a mix of anger and fear as she looked after her brother.

“I need to sit down,” you whispered, the world feeling too heavy, your mind spinning. You sat down, hands shaking uncontrollably. “I don’t know what to do.”

Sarah knelt beside you, her expression softening with concern. “You need to stay here with us,” she said gently, “You can’t go back to him. He’ll hurt you too.”

You shook your head, refusing to fully accept that reality. “I don’t know if he will—” Your voice faltered. “I mean, he’s never… but I have to face him at some point. I can’t just keep avoiding him, Sarah. If I don’t, he’ll come to my house. My parents will freak out if they find out what's going on.”

Sarah nodded, understanding the impossible position you were in. "I know. I get it."

Suddenly, your phone buzzed in your pocket. The sound made you flinch, your heart skipping a beat. You pulled it out with trembling hands, half expecting another text from your parents. But when you saw Rafe’s name, a cold shiver ran down your spine.

Rafe: I know you’re with them. I saw your car. Just tell me where y’all are hiding.

The air left your lungs. Your worst fear had come true—he knew. He knew you were with them, and worst of all, he knew you knew he had shot Sarah.

You held the phone out to Sarah, unable to voice the message. She took one glance at it, her face tightening in alarm. “We can’t stay here much longer,” she said, her voice sharp with urgency. “He’ll come back.”

John B and JJ exchanged tense looks before John B spoke up. “We’ll find somewhere else to hide in the morning.”

You stood up, your legs still shaky but determination settling in. “Maybe I should go and keep Rafe where he is,” you said quietly.

“No!” Sarah’s voice was almost panicked. She grabbed your arm. “No. You don’t have to do that.”

You met her worried gaze, your voice steady but filled with the weight of what you had to do. “It’ll buy you time, Sarah. I can’t let him hurt you again. If I don’t go, he’ll come looking for me anyway.”

Sarah hesitated, her eyes filled with concern. But after a long moment, she sighed, defeated. “Okay. Just be careful around him, please.”

“I will,” you promised, though deep down, you weren't sure how much control you had over the situation. You had to confront Rafe, but you had no idea what state he’d be in.

After saying your goodbyes, you walked to your car, the night air was cool against your skin. Once inside, you gripped the steering wheel tightly, trying to summon the strength to do what you needed to do. You had always been able to comfort Rafe, calm him when things spiraled out of control. But now? Could you still reach him?

With shaky fingers, you sent a message to Rafe, asking where he was and telling him that you needed to see him.

His reply came back quickly:

Rafe: I’m at Barry’s. Don’t come.

But you knew you couldn’t stay away. Despite his warning, you turned the key in the ignition and drove off, your heart pounding with each passing second. You had to see him, had to try and comfort him. Maybe you could get through to him—before it was too late.

RAFE’S P.O.V:

When Rafe got your message, his heart clenched in his chest. He wasn’t ready to face you—not in the state he was in right now, not when the weight of what he had done felt like it was crushing him. The fear of losing you was overwhelming, and he knew deep down that if you found out the truth about Sarah, you might never look at him the same way again.

He sat on the worn-out couch at Barry’s place, a bag of cocaine spread out on the table in front of him. His hands shook as he stared at his phone, struggling to think of a response. You were the one person he didn’t want to lose, but how could he keep you after everything he had done? How could he explain it without you hating him?

After a long moment, he replied, telling you where he was but with a warning not to come. He hoped—prayed—that if you knew he was at Barry’s, doing drugs, you’d stay away. Maybe the thought of him in a place like that, drowning in his vices, would be enough to keep you from coming. He wasn’t in any state to explain himself, and the last thing he wanted was for you to see him like this—desperate, spiraling, and terrified.

But even as he sent the message, a part of him knew he was wrong. You always had a way of finding him when he didn’t want to be found, of seeing through his walls no matter how hard he tried to keep you out. Still, he hoped. Maybe this time, you won’t come.

TAGS: @wearemadeofstardust0 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @thepopcultureaddict @deeznuggetsbebussin @wtfdudesblog @davinashifts333

[tanjamikaelson]

BEST FRIEND'S BROTHER - CHAPTER 24

MASTERLIST

CHAPTER 24: | THE RETURN HOME |

The flight back to the Outer Banks felt long, your mind racing with thoughts of Sarah as you stared out of the window. The deep blue ocean stretched endlessly below you, mirroring the turmoil swirling inside. Sarah was alive, but what did that mean for everything else? How could she have survived, and where was she now? You sighed, resting your forehead against the cold glass, trying to make sense of it all. Rafe had been quiet most of the flight, lost in his own thoughts, and you didn’t push him to talk. The weight of everything you both had been through clung to you like a heavy fog.

When the plane finally touched down, the familiar landscape of the Outer Banks greeted you, but it felt different now as if everything had shifted. Rafe held your hand as you both walked off the plane, but there was a tension between you that neither of you spoke about.

As soon as you reached home, you noticed your parents’ car in the driveway—they had returned from their business trip. You straightened up, preparing yourself to face them, knowing you couldn’t tell them everything. You weren’t ready to explain the chaos of the last few days, the near-death experience, or the bombshell revelation that Sarah was still alive.

Your mother greeted you warmly as soon as you stepped inside, her smile wide as she pulled you into a tight hug. "How was the trip, sweetie? The Bahamas must have been beautiful!" she exclaimed, her eyes shining with curiosity.

You forced a smile, hugging her back. "It was great," you replied simply, keeping your voice light. You didn’t want her to sense any of the heaviness that still lingered in your chest. "We didn’t do too much, just relaxed. The weather was perfect."

"That sounds amazing!" your mother said, her gaze flickering to Rafe, who had remained quiet beside you. "And Rafe, how was it for you?"

Rafe nodded, his usual confidence masked by a tired smile. "It was good. Business as usual," he replied, giving nothing away. You could feel the tension in his voice, the same tension that had been there since you found out about Sarah.

Your mom seemed satisfied with your vague responses, but her eyes lingered on you for a moment, as if she could sense that something was off. You quickly changed the subject, asking about their trip, hoping to distract her from any further questions.

"How was your business trip?" you asked, trying to steer the conversation away from the Bahamas.

"Oh, it was fine," your mom replied, her tone shifting to something more casual. "A little boring, to be honest, but everything went smoothly." She glanced at your father, who nodded in agreement. "We’re just glad to be home."

You smiled, relieved that the conversation had moved on. But as you settled into your familiar surroundings, the weight of what you couldn’t say sat heavily on your shoulders. You couldn’t tell your mom about the danger you had been in, about the knife pressed to your throat or how close things had come to spiraling out of control. And you definitely couldn’t tell her that Sarah—your best friend, who everyone believed was dead—was somehow alive and on the run.

The secrets you now held felt suffocating, but you knew there was no turning back. The world you had once known, the safety and normalcy of it all, had slipped through your fingers, replaced by something darker, more dangerous.

After catching up with your parents for a bit, Rafe, who had been standing quietly beside you the entire time, finally spoke up.

"I should probably get going," Rafe said, glancing between you and your mom. His voice was calm, but you could sense the underlying tension. He had been quieter than usual since landing, his mind clearly elsewhere.

"Are you sure?" you asked, feeling a small pang of disappointment. You weren’t ready to let him go yet, especially after everything that had happened.

Rafe gave you a faint smile, his blue eyes softening just a little. "Yeah, I’ve got some stuff I need to take care of at home," he explained, running a hand through his hair. "But I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?"

You nodded, though you wished he could stay. You understood that he needed space after everything that had happened in the Bahamas, but it still hurt to see him leave. "Okay," you said softly, stepping closer to give him a hug.

Rafe pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly for a moment. "I’ll text you when I get home," he whispered against your hair, his voice low enough so that your parents couldn’t hear.

"Promise?" you whispered back, holding onto him just a little longer.

"Promise," Rafe said, pressing a kiss to your temple before releasing you. He gave your parents a polite nod. "Thank you for letting Y/N join me on the trip."

Your mother smiled warmly at him, clearly unaware of the storm brewing beneath the surface. "Of course, Rafe. And you’re always welcome here."

With one last glance at you, Rafe headed for the door. You watched him leave, feeling a knot tighten in your chest. As much as you wanted to believe everything would be okay, you knew that things were far more complicated now.

Once the door closed behind him, you turned back to your parents, trying to mask the growing sense of unease in your stomach.

"Well, I’m glad you two had a good time," your mom said, still smiling as she collected a few dishes from the table. "You both deserve a break."

You nodded, though your thoughts were miles away, back to the Bahamas, back to the chaos that still lingered just beneath the surface.

"I think I’m going to head up to my room," you said after a moment, your voice quieter than usual. "I’m pretty tired."

Your mother gave you a concerned look but didn’t press the issue. "Of course, sweetie. Get some rest."

You offered her a small smile before excusing yourself and heading upstairs. The second you stepped into your room, the weight of everything came crashing down on you. You sank onto your bed, the memories of the last few days swirling around in your mind—Sarah, the knife, the gold, Rafe’s mood swings. It was all too much.

As you lay there, staring up at the ceiling, you couldn't help but wonder what would happen next. Sarah was alive, and she was out there somewhere with John B. And Rafe—Rafe was keeping secrets. You could feel it. You just didn’t know how deep they went.

RAFE’S P.O.V:

When Rafe got back to his house, he didn't have any real stuff to take care of, like he had told you. In truth, he needed to be alone, to process everything that was swirling inside his head. The weight of his secret—what he had done to Sarah—was pressing down on him, and he didn’t know how long he could keep it from you. Every time you looked at him with those trusting eyes, it felt like a knife twisting deeper into his gut.

Walking into his room, Rafe closed the door behind him, leaning against it as if the simple act of shutting himself off from the world could keep his demons at bay. But they were there, lurking in the shadows of his mind, and no amount of distance or isolation could keep them at bay for long. He ran his hands through his hair, the pressure building inside of him.

He grabbed a bag of cocaine from his drawer, his hands trembling slightly as he laid out a line on the table beside his bed. Bending down, he sniffed it quickly, the burn familiar and sharp. The rush hit him almost instantly, but it wasn’t the kind of relief he was hoping for. It never was. Not anymore.

Rafe sat down heavily on the edge of his bed, rubbing his hands over his face. His heart raced—not just from the coke, but from the suffocating fear that had been gnawing at him since that moment in the Bahamas. The moment he pulled the trigger. He knew what he had done, and he knew it was only a matter of time before it all came crashing down around him.

He laid back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, his mind racing. What if Sarah showed up in the Outer Banks? What if she told you what happened? He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep this from you. He had seen the way you looked at him, the way you believed in him, trusted him. But if you found out—if you knew what he had done—he would lose you. And losing you was the one thing he couldn’t bear.

The fear of losing you, the fear of Sarah returning—it was all too much. Rafe squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the thoughts, but sleep wouldn’t come. He could feel the exhaustion pulling at him, but his mind wouldn’t shut off. His body felt restless, his heart racing too fast, but the tension remained, coiled tightly inside him like a spring ready to snap.

He turned onto his side, clutching a pillow as if it could ground him, staring into the darkened room. The house was quiet, eerily so. The silence seemed to mock him, reminding him that no matter how hard he tried to escape his guilt, it would always be there, lurking just beneath the surface.

Rafe’s jaw clenched as he thought of you, of your soft voice and the way you had trusted him when he told you everything was okay. But he knew that trust was fragile, hanging by a thread. If Sarah came back, if the truth came out, you’d see him for what he truly was—a monster.

He stayed like that all night, eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling, his mind a swirling storm of fear and regret. There was no peace for him here, not anymore. Not as long as this secret weighed on him, threatening to tear apart everything he held dear.

TAGS: @wearemadeofstardust0 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @thepopcultureaddict @deeznuggetsbebussin @wtfdudesblog @davinashifts333

[tanjamikaelson]

Writing fanfiction isn't enough anymore I need that character to kiss me breathless

[tanjamikaelson]

STRANGE LOVE - CHAPTER 38

MASTERLIST

CHAPTER 38: | YOU'RE DRIVING ME CRAZY |

Allison sat at the Island Club with Jessica, the two women deep in conversation, laughing as they waited for their drinks and for their boyfriends to arrive. The atmosphere was light, filled with the usual buzz of chatter, clinking glasses, and the hum of background music. Outside, Rafe and Brandon were standing near the entrance, discussing business. Brandon was interested in buying some gold from Rafe, and they were wrapping up the details of the deal.

As the bartender placed their drinks on the table, Allison barely had time to react when, out of nowhere, a glass of red wine was spilled all over her pristine white dress. The dark liquid soaked through the fabric, staining it instantly. Her breath caught in her throat as her hands instinctively shot to her lap, her eyes wide in disbelief.

Allison’s head snapped up, her heart racing with anger. Standing there, looking smug, was Sofia. That smug, satisfied smirk on her face told Allison everything she needed to know—this wasn’t an accident.

“Are you freaking kidding me?” Allison’s voice rang out, sharp and furious, drawing the attention of everyone around them. Conversations in the club quieted, and eyes turned toward the scene unfolding.

Sofia, pretending to look apologetic, offered a half-hearted, "I’m so sorry." But the insincerity was evident in her tone as if she was amused by the chaos she had just caused.

Allison clenched her jaw, her hands shaking with the urge to do more than just yell. She was seething, humiliated, and the sight of Sofia’s smug face made her blood boil.

Before Allison could react further, a strong hand grabbed Sofia’s arm, pulling her away from the table. It was Rafe. His jaw was set, and the fury in his eyes was unmistakable as he yanked Sofia aside, out of the crowd’s view.

“What the hell, Sofia?” Rafe’s voice was low but brimming with anger, barely contained as he glared down at her. The look on his face was one she had never seen before—pure frustration and disgust.

Sofia tried to play innocent, her expression quickly turning into a false display of regret. “I apologized, Rafe,” she said, her voice soft, attempting to sound sincere. “It was an accident.”

Rafe raised his hand, cutting her off mid-sentence, his patience long gone. “Don’t bullshit me, Sofia,” he snapped, his voice dangerously calm. “You did that on purpose, and we both know it.”

Sofia’s eyes widened as she realized she had pushed too far, but she tried to recover. “No, I swear, I didn’t—” she stammered, her words faltering under his intense gaze.

But Rafe wasn’t having any of it. His next words were cold, laced with venom, and designed to cut deep. “Don’t think for a second that you mean anything to me,” he spat, his voice dripping with contempt. “You never did, and you never will. You’re just a pogue—desperate for attention.”

Sofia’s face fell, her bravado crumbling under the weight of his words. Her eyes flickered with a mix of sadness, jealousy, and anger, the humiliation of being dismissed so easily cutting deep. She had hoped to get a reaction out of him, but not like this. Not to be reminded that she was nothing to him.

Rafe didn’t spare her another glance. Without a second thought, he turned on his heel and made his way back to Allison, who was still fuming at the table, her stained dress a painful reminder of the encounter. Jessica was by her side, trying to help wipe away the wine, but it was a lost cause.

As Rafe approached, he softened, his anger dissipating the moment he saw the frustration on Allison’s face. Without saying a word, he slipped off his suit jacket and gently draped it around her shoulders, the gesture warm and protective.

Allison looked up at him, her eyes meeting his, and for a brief moment, the tension in her body eased. His jacket felt heavy but comforting, shielding her from the humiliation she had just endured. Rafe’s hand found hers, squeezing it lightly as if to reassure her that he was there, that he had her back.

Sofia stood at the corner of the room, her heart sinking as she watched Rafe care for Allison, a look of genuine concern in his eyes. The sting of rejection was sharp, and the words he had thrown at her echoed in her mind, leaving her feeling small and insignificant. She had lost—lost his attention, lost whatever fantasy she had built up in her mind. Watching him with Allison, Sofia realized that she had never really stood a chance.

Allison sat in her seat, still fuming as she tried to wipe the wine from her dress. The weight of Rafe’s jacket around her shoulders grounded her a little, offering some comfort after the humiliating encounter with Sofia. She hated how exposed and embarrassed she had felt in front of everyone at the club, but Rafe’s presence, his unwavering defense of her, made her feel seen in a different way. Protected. Cherished.

“Are you okay?” Rafe asked softly, his voice calm now as he crouched beside her chair, gently brushing a strand of hair from her face. His eyes searched hers, full of concern.

Allison nodded slowly, her breath catching in her throat. “I just… I can’t believe her.” Her voice was shaky with leftover anger, but her gaze softened when she met his. “Thank you for stepping in.”

“I wasn’t going to let her get away with that,” Rafe replied, his tone firm. “No one messes with you, not like that.” He squeezed her hand, his thumb gently rubbing across her knuckles, trying to soothe her frayed nerves.

Allison looked down at her stained dress, feeling a mix of frustration and vulnerability. “This was one of my favorite dresses,” she muttered, half-heartedly laughing, though her mood was still dampened.

Rafe smiled, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. “I’ll buy you a hundred more,” he promised his voice light, trying to lift the weight of the situation.

Allison couldn’t help but smile at that, a small one, but genuine. “I only need one,” she said, leaning into him, finding comfort in his steady presence.

Jessica, who had been quietly watching from the side, leaned in as well. “We can head out if you want, Allie,” she offered gently, knowing her friend had been through enough for one night. “I think a bottle of wine and a movie sounds much better than staying here.”

Allison looked over at Jessica, grateful for the suggestion. She was tired and emotionally drained, and the idea of escaping to the comfort of home sounded perfect. “Yeah, I think that’s a good idea.”

・ • ・ • ・

The weekend had arrived, and with it, a task Allison had been dreading: retrieving her belongings from the house she had shared with her mother. Rafe accompanied her, his presence a silent support as they approached the familiar door. Allison’s heart was heavy with the memories of all the arguments, the harsh words, the constant feeling of not being enough—all of it swirled in her mind. But with a deep breath, she pushed those memories aside and inserted the key, feeling Rafe’s quiet strength beside her.

Inside, the house was eerily still. It felt hollow, almost abandoned. Her mother’s absence hung in the air like a heavy shadow, and the silence made Allison’s heart feel even heavier.

As they stepped into the living room, something caught her attention. A card sat on the coffee table, her name written across the front in her mother’s familiar handwriting. For a moment, she hesitated, unsure if she wanted to read whatever message her mother had left behind. Her fingers trembled slightly as she opened it.

Inside she found a card bright and colorful—a stark contrast to the emotions churning inside her. Tucked inside, she found an envelope containing a few hundred-dollar bills and a note that read, “I hope you have a wonderful birthday, coming up soon! Since we probably won’t see each other, I leave you this gift.”

Allison let out a bitter laugh, her fingers gripping the card tightly. “She’s trying to bribe me with money,” she said, holding the card up to show Rafe as he stepped closer.

Rafe’s brow furrowed as he glanced at the card, then back at Allison. He could see the hurt etched in her features, the way the strained relationship with her mother still weighed on her. "Maybe she’s really sorry for what she said,” he suggested, his voice gentle, though he knew the damage ran deep.

Allison scoffed, shaking her head as she placed the card down with more force than necessary. “Yeah, I doubt that,” she muttered, her voice tinged with bitterness. Deep down, though, there was a small part of her that wished things could have been different, that her mother’s apology could somehow heal the wounds between them.

Together, they headed to her room. The space that had once been a haven now felt foreign to her, like a chapter she had already closed. Her belongings had been neatly packed into boxes and suitcases. Allison sighed, a mix of relief and sadness washing over her.

Rafe, ever the supportive presence, began helping her carry the boxes to the car. He took on most of the load, insisting that Allison shouldn’t wear herself out. He moved with ease, his muscles flexing with each lift, his focus entirely on making sure she didn’t have to bear any extra burden.

When they returned back to Tanny Hill Rafe carried boxes to their bedroom. As they worked in quiet unison, Allison couldn’t help but steal glances at him. There was something reassuring in his steady movements, in the way he was always there to help without asking for anything in return. Despite everything that was happening, his presence grounded her.

She leaned against the doorway, wiping a strand of hair from her face, watching him as he placed the last box on the floor. Her lips curled into a small smile. There was something about the way Rafe moved, the way his presence filled the room, that drew her in.

“Rafe,” she called out playfully, her voice soft but teasing, “You look really hot right now.”

Rafe turned to her, a grin spreading across his face as he wiped his hands on his jeans and closed the distance between them. His eyes sparkled with amusement, knowing the game she was playing. “Only right now?” he teased, cocking an eyebrow playfully.

“Always,” Allison replied, her eyes tracing the curve of his bicep as he moved closer. She placed a hand on his arm, feeling the strength beneath her fingertips. “But especially now.”

Rafe chuckled, the sound deep and warm as he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close. “You should’ve seen me handling the cross,” he said with a smirk, nodding toward the boxes. “This is nothing.”

Allison’s heart raced as he leaned in, their faces only inches apart. Her breath hitched, a familiar heat rising between them.

“You’re driving me crazy,” she whispered, her voice thick with desire as she tugged at his shirt, pulling him into a kiss that was both fierce and tender.

Rafe responded instantly, his hands sliding down her sides as their kiss deepened, growing more urgent with each passing second. His fingers brushed the hem of her dress, pushing it up her thighs as he lifted her effortlessly, her legs wrapping around his waist. Their lips never broke apart as he carried her toward the bed, his touch igniting a fire inside her that burned brighter with every movement.

He laid her down gently, hovering above her, his eyes dark with longing as he trailed soft kisses down her neck. Each kiss sent a jolt of electricity through her, making her heart race. Allison’s arms wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him closer as his hands roamed her body, exploring every inch of her with a hunger that matched her own.

“I want to be on top,” Allison whispered, her voice breathless as she tugged at his shirt. Rafe pulled away slightly, giving her just enough space to flip him onto his back. His body hit the mattress with a soft thud, and Allison quickly straddled his hips, grinning down at him.

Rafe’s hands immediately found her hips, his palms squeezing her butt as he grinned up at her. “I’m all yours. Do what you want.”

Allison’s grin widened, her hands slipping beneath his shirt as she leaned down, her lips brushing against his chest. “Oh yeah? I like the sound of that.” She slowly pulled his shirt over his head, revealing the hard lines of his muscles beneath. Her lips began to explore his chest, her kisses soft but deliberate, working her way down to his abs as she felt him tense beneath her touch.

Her lower body moved against him, unable to stay still, the friction sending jolts of pleasure through her. Rafe groaned softly, feeling the pressure build as his erection strained against the fabric of his jeans, pressing harder against her with each movement. He reached for the hem of her dress, urging her to take it off. With a quick motion, she pulled the dress over her head, tossing it onto the floor, leaving her in only her underwear.

Rafe’s eyes darkened with desire as he took in the sight of her, licking his lips in anticipation. Allison grinned wickedly as she unbuttoned his pants, standing briefly to slide them down along with his boxers. His hard length sprang free, and her breath hitched at the sight of him, her need growing with every passing second.

She quickly removed her panties and bra, standing in front of him for a brief moment, her eyes never leaving his. The air between them was thick with tension, charged with the anticipation of what was to come.

Rafe’s gaze followed her as she moved around the bed, his curiosity piqued when she smirked at him. “I wanna try sixty-nine,” she said, her voice dripping with seduction.

Rafe’s heart skipped a beat, and he gave a slight nod of approval, watching as she positioned herself over him, her core hovering just above his lips. His hands immediately reached up to cup her ass, pulling her down gently as his mouth met her wet heat.

Allison took his hard length in her hand, pumping him slowly, teasingly. She lowered her head, taking the tip of his cock into her mouth, sucking hard enough to elicit a deep moan from Rafe. The vibrations of his pleasure only fueled her own as his tongue darted inside her, swirling and flicking in a way that made her body tremble.

“Oh, God,” Allison moaned, her voice muffled as she worked her mouth up and down his length, taking him deeper into her throat with each movement. Rafe’s grip on her hips tightened, his tongue delving deeper into her core, his lips wrapping around her clit as he sucked with fervor.

The sounds of their shared pleasure filled the room—the wet slide of Allison’s mouth as she deep-throated him, the slick sounds of his tongue working her relentlessly. Rafe could feel himself losing control, his hips bucking into her mouth as he moaned against her.

He could feel her getting closer, the way her body tensed and quivered above him. He shifted, using his fingers to spread her open wider, his tongue delving deeper, tasting every inch of her. The way she moved on top of him, the sounds she made, everything about her drove him wild. He groaned into her as his fingers found her clit, rubbing it in time with his thrusting tongue.

“Are you ready to come for me, princess?” he asked huskily, his voice thick with need.

“Yes, please. Oh, please, baby,” Allison begged, her voice shaking as she teetered on the edge of release. She took him as deep as she could, her throat tightening around him as she fought the urge to gag.

“Oh, fuck,” Rafe growled, his voice strained as his orgasm hit him suddenly. His cock pulsed as he spilled into her mouth, and she swallowed it all, not missing a beat as she kept her pace. Rafe's pleasure didn’t stop him from continuing his assault on her clit, pushing her over the edge.

Allison’s body tensed, her hips pressing down against his face as her orgasm washed over her. She let go of his cock, her head falling back as she screamed out her release, her body trembling as waves of pleasure rolled through her. Rafe eagerly drank her in, his tongue working her through her climax until her body sagged, spent, and satisfied.

Rafe gently lifted her off him, laying her beside him on the bed. They were both breathing heavily, their bodies slick with sweat, but a satisfied smile tugged at Allison’s lips as she looked at him.

“How was that?” she asked, her voice breathless but full of mischief.

“Amazing,” Rafe replied, his voice still rough. “But I really wanted to come inside your pussy, not your mouth. You deep-throating me ruined that.”

Allison chuckled softly. “You loved it.”

Rafe grinned, leaning over to kiss her softly. “I did. But now, I’m going to fuck you.” There was a command in his voice as he sat up, grabbing her hips. “Get on your hands and knees. I’m going to take you from behind.”

Allison’s heart raced as she eagerly obeyed, turning over and presenting herself to him. She wiggled her hips teasingly, earning a playful smack on her ass from Rafe.

“Come on, Rafe. Show me what you can do,” she taunted, her voice laced with challenge.

Rafe smirked, positioning himself behind her as he lined himself up with her entrance. With one hard thrust, he buried himself inside her, eliciting a sharp gasp from Allison. He didn’t give her time to adjust, pulling out almost completely before slamming back in.

Allison moaned loudly, her body rocking with his every thrust. His pace was relentless, each movement sending shocks of pleasure through her as she pushed back against him. She thrived under his rough treatment, her moans becoming louder and more desperate as he fucked her hard and fast.

It didn’t take long for her to reach the edge again, her body trembling as her climax built. Rafe could feel her walls tightening around him, pushing him closer to his own release. With one final thrust, Allison’s body tensed, her orgasm crashing through her with a force that left her breathless. Rafe followed quickly behind, his own release hitting him as he emptied himself inside her, his body collapsing against her back as they both rode out the waves of their pleasure.

They lay there for a long moment, tangled together, their breaths ragged, and their bodies spent.

TAGS: @tiaamberxx @dominicfikexoxo @belle101200 @rafesbabygirlx

[tanjamikaelson]

BEST FRIEND'S BROTHER - CHAPTER 23

MASTERLIST

CHAPTER 23: | LOVE MAKES YOU CRAZY |

You returned to the house while Rafe and Ward went to the police to track down Sarah and retrieve the stolen gold. Though Rafe hesitated to leave you alone, he ultimately relented after ensuring the house had tight security. You were too shaken by the recent events to go with them; all you wanted was to be in a locked house where you could feel safe again, where no one could threaten you.

After they left, you wandered into the kitchen, grabbing something to eat before heading to the bathroom. The bathwater filled the tub as you stood in front of the mirror, staring at the faint cut on your neck. It wasn’t deep, but it was a stark reminder of how close you came to real danger. You wiped the dried blood away, a sigh escaping your lips as you sank into the warm, soothing water. The bubbles tickled your chin, offering you some semblance of comfort after the chaos of the day.

The house was quiet, the silence amplifying the faint drip of water from the faucet as you sank deeper into the warmth of the bath. The heat eased your sore muscles, relaxing the tension that had built up over the day. You let your eyes close for a moment, savoring the temporary peace, until the soft creak of the door startled you. Your head turned sharply toward the sound.

Rafe stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame. His usual confident swagger was gone, replaced by a weary posture that betrayed just how much he had been carrying. His shoulders drooped, and his expression was worn, his usual sharpness dulled by exhaustion. Despite the heaviness in his stance, he offered a small, tired smile when your eyes met.

“Did you find Sarah?” you asked, the question tumbling out almost reflexively. It had been gnawing at you since the moment they left. The search for Sarah had been all-consuming, and her absence had left a hole you couldn’t ignore.

Rafe’s smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared. His face hardened, and he shook his head. “No,” he said, his voice heavy with exhaustion. “But we found the gold.”

Relief and worry mingled inside you. A small smile tugged at your lips, glad they’d found the gold, but the thought of Sarah still being out there—possibly hurt—made your chest tighten. You watched him carefully, noticing something deeper, something unspoken in the tension of his shoulders and the flicker of his eyes. His words didn’t carry the victory you would’ve expected from finding the gold. It was as if the discovery meant little to him in the face of something bigger.

“Did something else happen?” you asked gently, your voice laced with concern.

Rafe hesitated, the muscles in his jaw tightening. “No,” he said too quickly, stepping further into the bathroom. He avoided your gaze, his eyes scanning the room as if looking for something to anchor himself.

You studied him, the way his hands flexed at his sides, the subtle shift of his weight from one foot to the other. You knew him better than anyone, and this wasn’t just exhaustion. He was hiding something. Something that mattered.

“Rafe,” you said softly, your tone firm but not unkind. “What’s going on?”

He froze for a moment, his shoulders stiffening as if bracing himself. His gaze finally lifted, locking with yours, but there was a flicker of conflict in his blue eyes. For a moment, it seemed like he might say something, but the words didn’t come. Instead, the corner of his mouth quirked upward, and a familiar, smug grin replaced his hesitation.

“Can I join?” he asked, his voice low and laced with something teasing.

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in tone. He leaned against the counter now, his arms crossed over his chest, his expression playfully smug yet still carrying a hint of something unresolved. You could tell he was trying to deflect, to push away whatever had been weighing on him with humor and charm.

Your lips curved into a small smile despite yourself. “Really, Rafe?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at his attempt to change the subject.

His grin widened just slightly as he pushed off the counter, moving closer to the tub. “What?” he said, his tone feigning innocence, though his eyes gleamed mischievously. “You look so relaxed. Thought I could join you, help me unwind, too.”

You shook your head, but there was a flicker of amusement in your expression. “You’re unbelievable,” you muttered, though your tone lacked any real bite.

Rafe crouched beside the tub, his fingers trailing along the water’s surface, his gaze softening as he looked at you. “Maybe,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “But you know you like it.”

A small smile tugged at your lips. “Fine,” you said softly, leaning back against the edge of the tub. “Get in.”

Rafe’s brows raised slightly in surprise, but the mischievous glint in his eyes returned almost instantly. “Yeah?” he asked, as if testing to make sure you weren’t joking.

You nodded, chuckling. “Yeah, come on. You need to relax as much as I do.”

That was all the encouragement he needed. Rafe stood to his full height and pulled his shirt over his head in one swift motion, tossing it to the side. His toned chest and arms gleamed under the soft bathroom light, his every movement exuding quiet confidence despite the weariness lingering beneath the surface. He kicked off his shoes and socks next, his hands quickly moving to unfasten his belt and jeans.

You couldn’t help but watch him, your eyes tracing the hard lines of his body as he stepped out of his pants. His boxers were the last to go, and once he was fully bare, he looked at you with a crooked grin that was pure Rafe.

“Like what you see?” he teased, his voice low and playful.

You rolled your eyes, though your cheeks warmed slightly. “Just get in already,” you said, gesturing to the tub.

Rafe smirked and stepped over the edge, lowering himself into the water with a satisfied sigh. The warmth seemed to immediately work its magic, his tense shoulders relaxing as he leaned back against the tub. His long legs brushed against yours under the water, and he shifted closer, his hand finding your knee and giving it a gentle squeeze.

“This is nice,” he murmured, his voice quieter now, almost contemplative. His thumb stroked your knee absentmindedly, his gaze flicking to yours. “Thanks for letting me in.”

You smiled, the corners of your mouth tugging upward. “You needed it,” you replied simply, your hand brushing against his beneath the water.

The warmth of the water wrapped around you both like a cocoon, the soft splashes muffled by the tension thickening the air. You shifted toward Rafe, straddling his thighs in the water, your knees brushing his sides as you moved closer. The space between you seemed to evaporate, the closeness a balm to the heaviness you felt emanating from him.

“What are you doing?” Rafe asked, his voice low and curious, though his hands instinctively found their way to your hips. His touch was grounding as if he needed to hold onto you to steady himself.

“I want to help you,” you murmured, threading your fingers through his damp hair. You leaned forward, wetting it completely before reaching for the bottle of shampoo. Slowly, you massaged the suds into his scalp, your touch gentle and deliberate. Rafe’s eyes fluttered closed, a soft smile pulling at the corners of his lips as he melted under your care.

Your hands moved down to his chest and back, scrubbing away the day’s tension and grime. Each touch was a silent reassurance, a way to show him that you were there. When you leaned in to kiss him, his lips met yours eagerly, his arms wrapping around you as if he never wanted to let go. The kiss was slow, filled with unspoken words, a tenderness that made your chest ache.

When you finally broke apart, Rafe tilted your chin up with his fingers, his touch featherlight. His eyes lingered on the faint scar along your neck, his jaw tightening as his thumb brushed over the mark. It was a reminder of the danger you had both faced.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice heavy with guilt. “I never wanted you to get hurt.”

His words hung in the air, weighted with the self-blame he carried like a second skin. You could feel it in the way his shoulders sagged, in the way his gaze flickered to the water as if he couldn’t bear to look at you.

“Rafe,” you said softly, bringing your hand to his cheek. “It’s okay.”

But he shook his head, his lips pressing into a thin line. “No, it’s not,” he insisted, his voice trembling with frustration. “I couldn’t protect you.”

You shushed him gently, your thumb brushing over his cheekbone. “I’m just happy nobody got shot,” you said with a small smile, trying to ease the tension. But something in his expression darkened at your words, a shadow crossing his face that you couldn’t quite place.

Rafe’s gaze remained fixed on the water, the weight of his unspoken secret hanging between you. The guilt of what he had done—what he was keeping from you—held him in silence. He couldn’t bring himself to tell you the truth—that he had pulled the trigger on Sarah. Instead, he let the guilt simmer beneath the surface, avoiding your eyes.

“I can’t believe Sarah is alive,” you continued, hoping to shift the conversation. Your hand traced soothing circles on his arm as you spoke. “I thought she was gone.”

"Mhm," was all Rafe could manage in response, his jaw tightening as the mention of Sarah brought a wave of emotion. He should have felt relief that she was alive, but all he could feel was frustration, even anger.

“You don’t seem too happy about it,” you observed, frowning as you noticed the tension in his shoulders.

“How could I be?” Rafe snapped, his blue eyes meeting yours with a flash of anger. “She chose them—those pogues—over her own family.”

You sighed, trying to reason with him. “It’s not like that.”

“Yeah, it is,” he said bitterly, his voice rising. “She stole from us. Her boyfriend pointed a gun at us.”

“Love makes you crazy,” you said quietly, hoping to diffuse the tension.

Rafe’s eyes narrowed, his anger softening as he studied you. “Is love making you crazy?” he asked, his tone shifting, a hint of playfulness creeping in as if he wanted to steer the conversation away from his sister and the feelings he didn’t want to confront.

A small smile tugged at your lips as you cupped his face, pulling him closer. “So crazy,” you whispered, kissing him gently. The shift in energy was immediate, the kiss deepening as his hands gripped your waist, pulling you tighter against him.

When you pulled back, Rafe’s lips curved into a mischievous grin. “Yeah, I noticed… like in the truck,” he teased, his voice thick with amusement and desire. The memory of your teasing movements earlier made your cheeks flush with heat.

“I’m sorry,” you said, your voice shy but playful. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“I like that side of you,” Rafe growled, his voice dropping an octave as his hands slid down to your thighs. “It reminded me of that time at the party… when you let me finger you.”

As he spoke, his fingers slipped between your thighs, teasing you in the water. You gasped at the sudden touch, your body arching against him as your breath hitched.

“Rafe…” you breathed, his name a plea as his fingers slid inside you, his other hand holding your hips steady. Your moans filled the air, blending with the soft splashes of water as he took control. You could feel his growing erection pressing against you, intensifying the heat pooling low in your stomach.

“Fuck me,” you whispered, your voice trembling with need. “I need you.”

Rafe hesitated for a second, his breath heavy and his eyes searching yours. “Right now? I don’t have a condom,” he warned, though the hunger in his gaze told you he wanted you just as much.

“Just pull out,” you said, your voice firm but filled with desperation. You didn’t care. You needed him now.

That was all the encouragement he needed. Rafe lifted you slightly, positioning you over him. Slowly, he slid inside, the feeling of him filling you making both of you moan in unison. You took a moment to adjust, your hands gripping his shoulders as you began to move.

“Just like that, baby,” Rafe groaned, his fingers finding your clit as he rubbed slow circles. The sensation was overwhelming, and you picked up your pace, your hips slamming down onto him as your moans grew louder.

The water splashed around you, droplets spilling over the edge of the tub as you rode him. “Fuck, baby,” Rafe groaned, his grip on your hips tightening as he bucked his hips up to meet your movements.

Your head fell forward as your orgasm crashed over you, your body trembling as you cried out, collapsing onto his chest. You stayed there for a moment, catching your breath before you began moving again, slower this time. Rafe’s head fell back, his jaw clenching as he thrust upward, his movements desperate.

“Shit, baby, I’m close,” he groaned, his voice strained.

“Just a little more,” you whimpered, the intensity building again as his fingers worked your clit.

Before you knew it, Rafe groaned loudly, his body tensing beneath you as he came. His hands gripped your hips, his head falling forward against your shoulder. “Shit, shit—get off,” he panted, his voice still thick with pleasure.

You climbed off him carefully, your legs shaky as you settled back into the water. Both of you were breathless, your bodies spent, and Rafe’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you close as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"We can get some sleep now," he murmured, his voice laced with satisfaction.

You smiled, rising from the water, feeling the wrinkles on your skin from being in the bath for too long. The two of you dried off, and you slipped into one of Rafe’s t-shirts before climbing into bed beside him. Your head rested on his chest, his hand running through your hair in a soothing rhythm. The steady rise and fall of his breathing lulled you into sleep.

TAGS: @wearemadeofstardust0 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @thepopcultureaddict @deeznuggetsbebussin @wtfdudesblog @davinashifts333

[tanjamikaelson]

BEST FRIEND'S BROTHER - CHAPTER 22

MASTERLIST

CHAPTER 22: | ALIVE |

You stood nearby, watching Rafe and Ward haul heavy boxes into the truck. Your eyes lingered on Rafe, drawn to how his muscles flexed with each effortless movement. The afternoon sun gleamed off his skin, accentuating the sharp lines of his body. You found yourself momentarily captivated, unable to look away as admiration bloomed in your chest.

“Let’s go, Rafe!” Ward hollered from the driver’s seat, his tone sharp with impatience.

Rafe glanced over at you, his blue eyes meeting yours. “Come on, Y/N,” he called out, his voice firm yet beckoning.

“There’s not enough room for me in the truck,” you teased, folding your arms and staying rooted where you stood. Your tone was light, but the playful smirk on your lips dared him to prove you wrong.

Rafe’s expression hardened, a flicker of frustration mingling with something protective. “You are not staying here alone,” he shot back, his voice low and unyielding. “Come on.”

The possessiveness in his tone sent your heart fluttering. You knew this wasn’t just about company—Rafe didn’t like the idea of you being left behind, vulnerable. He needed you close, where he could keep you safe.

You relented with a small nod, following his lead. As you approached the truck, Rafe was already climbing into the front seat, his hand outstretched to you. Without hesitation, he grabbed your hand and lifted you effortlessly onto his lap.

“Buckle up, buddy,” Ward muttered, his voice gruff as he started the engine.

Settling into Rafe’s lap, you leaned your head against his shoulder, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath you. One of his arms wrapped securely around your waist, anchoring you to him, while the other hand rested on your bare thigh. His fingers pressed into your skin, the heat of his touch spreading like electricity.

“You look so hot in this black shirt,” you whispered, your tone low and teasing as you leaned in closer to his ear.

Rafe stiffened, his muscles tightening beneath you. His grip on your thigh grew firmer, his jaw clenching as he struggled to maintain composure. His gaze flicked briefly toward Ward, who remained focused on the road, oblivious to the silent tension crackling between the two of you.

Unable to resist, you shifted slightly on his lap, feigning discomfort. The subtle movement caused your hips to grind against him, and you felt his body react instantly.

“Y/N,” Rafe growled softly, his voice a quiet warning laced with frustration and desire. His breath brushed against your neck, sending a shiver down your spine.

“I’m uncomfortable like this,” you lied smoothly, adjusting yourself again with deliberate slowness, settling firmly over his growing erection.

Rafe inhaled sharply, his fingers digging into your thigh in a possessive grip. His restraint was slipping, the tension in the truck growing heavier with every passing second. His blue eyes flicked to yours, a mixture of frustration and unspoken longing burning in his gaze.

“You wanted me here,” you murmured, a teasing smile playing on your lips as you leaned closer.

Rafe let out a low hum in response, his eyes narrowing slightly as his grip on your thigh tightened. Your boldness surprised him, especially with Ward just feet away, but there was something about the situation that made his control falter. His hips shifted subtly under you, the strain of his erection pressing against the fabric of his pants.

The anticipation was thick, almost unbearable, when suddenly the truck jerked to an abrupt halt. You were thrown forward slightly, your heart leaping in your chest. Rafe’s arm tightened protectively around your waist.

Your head whipped around to see a group of children running into the street ahead. They slammed their fists against the officer’s cars parked nearby, their voices raised in a chaotic chorus of shouting.

“What is this?” Ward snapped, his voice panicked.

“It’s just some kids,” Rafe assured him, though there was an edge of concern in his voice.

Ward’s frustration grew as he honked the horn, urging the kids to get away from the car. “No! No! Guys, get away from the car!” he shouted, his voice growing more urgent.

The scene quickly escalated as the children threw water and flour at the police cars, creating chaos.

“It’s a trap!” one of the officers yelled.

“Yeah, no shit!” Rafe retorted, his eyes scanning the scene.

Ward slammed on the gas, swerving to avoid the roadblocks the kids had set up. “We gotta get out of here!” he shouted, his voice tight with fear.

More people began to emerge, pushing wheelbarrows and shovels, their fists slamming against the truck, the metal vibrating with each hit.

“Go, go, go!” Rafe urged, holding you tighter against him as the truck jolted forward, Ward narrowly avoiding another group blocking the road.

The truck swerved violently, and you gasped as you were thrown to the side, but Rafe's strong arms kept you steady, his protective grip never faltering.

The tension in the air was suffocating as Ward navigated the truck through the narrow alley, trying to escape the chaos unfolding around you. Your heart pounded in your chest, adrenaline coursing through your veins. But through it all, you felt Rafe’s steady presence beside you, grounding you amidst the turmoil.

The truck sped down the road, leaving behind the chaos that had just unfolded. You clung tightly to Rafe, still shaken by the events. His arms wrapped protectively around you, grounding you amidst the adrenaline still coursing through your veins.

“What the hell was that?” Rafe demanded, his voice sharp with frustration as he turned to Ward.

Ward, still gripping the wheel tightly, was focused on navigating the road ahead. “Where are we going? Find where we are,” he ordered, his voice laced with urgency.

Rafe quickly pulled out his phone, glancing at the map. “Hey, this road goes down the same place. We’re good,” he assured Ward, though the tension in his voice hadn't completely faded.

Ward pressed down on the accelerator, the truck speeding faster than it should have been. “See anybody in the mirror?” he asked, his gaze flicking between the road and the rearview mirror.

Rafe scanned the view behind them. “No. We’re good.”

“Are we going the right way?” Ward pressed, still anxious.

“Yeah, stay on this road. It’s gonna take us directly to the airport,” Rafe confirmed, but the knot in your stomach refused to untangle. Something still felt off.

The truck turned down another corner, dust kicking up behind it as the endless stretch of grassland came into view. You noticed the workers up ahead, the bright red of their stop sign cutting through the haze of the afternoon heat.

“Are you kidding me?” Ward grumbled, his hands tightening on the steering wheel. His frustration was palpable, and it made the already tense atmosphere inside the truck feel even heavier.

A creeping sense of dread washed over you. Something about this didn’t feel right. “I have a bad feeling,” you muttered, leaning into Rafe, seeking comfort in his presence.

Rafe’s arm instinctively tightened around you, his fingers brushing against your side in a reassuring gesture. “I got you. Relax,” he whispered softly. His words were meant to calm you, but even in his voice, you detected the edge of unease.

Your thoughts raced. Were they after the gold? Did they know what was hidden in the truck? The uncertainty gnawed at you.

Ward slowed the truck as they neared the workers. “What do we do? Nowhere to turn.”

“I dunno,” Rafe responded, keeping his eyes locked on the workers up ahead.

Then Ward said it, the words that sent your pulse racing: “Get the gun, Rafe. Just hide it.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, your mind spiraling into panic. Rafe, calm as ever, reached forward, popped open the glove compartment, and pulled out the gun. He slipped it into the waistband of his pants, and when he turned to look at you, you could see the tension in his gaze. You gave him a worried look, silently praying he wouldn’t need to use it.

The truck came to a stop, and Rafe’s grip on you tightened, the silence deafening.

“What’s going on?” Ward shouted through the window, trying to assess the situation.

“Road’s closed! Nobody coming through!” the woman said sharply, her expression cold as she stepped closer to the truck.

Ward tried to play it off, chuckling as he leaned out the window. “Well, can you let just one truck through? We just— we kinda gotta get through today. We got a delivery that—"

“I don’t think so,” she cut him off with a harsh tone. “Sinkhole. Massive.”

“I’m begging you guys,” Ward pleaded, but the situation quickly spiraled out of control when a gun was shoved into his face.

“Let me see your hands,” the man holding the gun demanded, his voice sharp and threatening.

Your breath hitched as the tension in the air thickened.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” the woman beside you warned, and before you could react, you felt the cold press of a blade against your throat. Every muscle in your body froze as you felt the sharp sting of the metal.

“Get out. Easy,” the man ordered, and you shakily opened the door, stepping out of the truck. You glanced at Rafe, the fear evident in your eyes. He was torn between protecting you and complying with the demands of these strangers.

He climbed out after you, slow and measured, keeping his hands visible, the gun still hidden in his waistband, his gaze never leaving the woman holding you hostage.

“Listen to your papa, or she gets real hurt,” the woman sneered, the blade pressing harder against your skin, enough to draw blood. A thin line of warmth trickled down your neck, but you tried to stay still, to keep calm.

The man barked out orders, making Rafe and Ward move the signs and barrels blocking the road. You stood there, frozen, too afraid to move as the woman kept the knife at your throat.

“Take two steps back. Easy! Get on your knees!” the man shouted again.

Rafe and Ward dropped to their knees, and with a rough shove, the woman forced you to the ground next to them. Your knees hit the concrete painfully, and you winced at the sharp pain that shot through your legs.

“Hands up. Kiss the ground,” the man demanded, and you saw Rafe and Ward comply, their bodies tense as they obeyed.

Before you could make sense of anything, you heard Ward mutter something under his breath. “Sarah?”

You blinked, ignoring the pain from the cut on your neck, and turned your head. That’s when you saw her—a blonde girl running toward the truck, her familiar face sending a shockwave through your system. Sarah. She was alive.

“Sarah! You're alive!” Ward’s voice broke through the tension, filled with relief and disbelief. "Baby! You're alive!"

“Stay down!” the woman holding you growled, but your heart raced with a mixture of shock and joy. Sarah, the sister you thought you had lost, was standing just a few feet away.

“Sarah!” you whispered, your voice trembling with disbelief and joy. But your joy was short-lived as you glanced at Rafe. He was staring at Sarah too, but there was something darker in his eyes. He wasn’t happy she was alive, and that realization made your stomach turn.

“Stay right there!” John B’s voice rang out, a gun pointed at Ward as he tried to keep them at bay.

Before anyone could make sense of the situation, Rafe snapped. He yanked the gun from his waistband and stormed forward, his face twisted with rage. “Hey!” he shouted, pointing the gun at John B and Sarah.

“Rafe, no!” you screamed, but it was too late. The girl holding you tackled Rafe just as the gun went off, the shot echoing in the still air. It missed its mark, but the fear of what could have happened left you breathless.

“Go on! Get out of here! Go!” the man ordered John B and Sarah, and they scrambled into the truck, speeding off before anyone could stop them.

Rafe roared in anger, his voice thick with frustration. “You’re a coward!” he shouted after them, but they were long gone.

In the aftermath, you stood frozen, your heart still racing, your mind struggling to process everything that had just happened. The realization that Sarah was alive felt like a punch to the gut, followed by the gnawing fear of what was to come.

“Y/N?” Rafe’s voice broke through the fog of your thoughts, and you turned to face him, tears welling up in your eyes. “You’re hurt, baby,” he whispered, his eyes full of concern as he gently tilted your chin to inspect the cut on your neck.

You shook your head, brushing away the sting of the cut. “It’s just a scratch,” you whispered before collapsing into his arms.

The weight of the events, the relief, the fear—it all came crashing down, leaving you trembling in his embrace.

Rafe held you close, his arms wrapping around you protectively, his grip strong and grounding.

All you could think about was Sarah. How? How was she alive?

TAGS: @wearemadeofstardust0 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @thepopcultureaddict @deeznuggetsbebussin@wtfdudesblog @davinashifts333

[tanjamikaelson]

baby daddy

[tanjamikaelson]