k2padfoot

[k2padfoot]

We Don’t Talk About It Pt.2

Rafe Cameron x Y/n

summary: You and Rafe are best friends turned roommates, and it’s obvious you love each other but neither of you know how to handle it.

Pt.1

You left before the sun came up.

Slipped out as quietly as you could—no slammed doors, no final words. Just the soft click of the front door shutting behind you and a backpack slung over one shoulder. You didn’t pack much, just what you’d need for a few days. The truth was, you didn’t know how long you’d be gone. You only knew that you couldn’t stay. Not in that house. Not with someone who barely looked at you anymore. Not with all that heavy silence filling the space where moments of love used to be.

You didn’t even wake him.

You walked until your legs ached, then called Kiara.

And like always, she showed up.

────୨ৎ────

She didn’t ask questions. Just opened the passenger door to her car and let you in like she’d been expecting the call.

At her place, she tried to keep things light. Put on music, offered to do face masks, made dumb jokes you couldn’t bring yourself to laugh at. She didn’t push, though. She let you sit in silence, let you cry when you needed to, let you say nothing when that was all you could give.

But no matter what she did, he still lingered in your mind—etched into every quiet second, every deep breath.

Rafe.

────୨ৎ────

By day 4 you still hadn’t answered him. Not the texts, not the calls. Not the voice message you could barely finish listening to before your thumb hit delete.

He even reached out to Kie. Of course he did.

“What did you tell him?” you asked, curled up on the couch with a blanket pulled tight around your shoulders.

She didn’t look up from her phone. “That you’re here. That you’re fine.”

You nodded, even though it wasn’t true. You weren’t fine. You hadn’t been in a long time.

Later that day, she looked at you with that stubborn gleam in her eye. “You need a distraction.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do.”

You sighed. “Kie…”

“There’s a party tonight. At Topper’s. Big Fourth of July thing. Everyone’s going. You should come.”

You shot her a look. “You’re forgetting the part where Rafe will definitely be there.”

“Not necessarily,” she shrugged. “And even if he is—you’ll be with me. And besides, you can’t hide forever.”

You hesitated.

She grinned. “Come on. You can wear something hot and get drunk. Tell me that doesn’t sound at least a little tempting.”

You rolled your eyes. “Maybe a little.”

────୨ৎ────

The party was already in full swing by the time you pulled up—music thumping from the house, people spilling out onto the lawn, beer kegs, sparklers, someone already drunk enough to be cartwheeling through the grass. The whole town showed up.

You dressed cute. Maybe too cute. Short dress, bare shoulders, glossy lips. The kind of outfit that would’ve had Rafe looking at you like you were the only girl in the world—back when things were good.

But tonight wasn’t about Rafe.

At least, you were trying hard to pretend it wasn’t.

You grabbed a drink with Kie, said hi to a few familiar faces, smiled when you were supposed to. It wasn’t until you ran into Topper and his friends that you started to feel… almost okay.

One of them—Alex—was tall, broad-shouldered, dark hair that curled behind his ears, and the kind of warm, striking eyes that made you want to get lost in them. He grinned when Topper introduced you, and somehow, the two of you fell into conversation like you’d known each other for years.

He was charming without trying too hard. Funny in a disarming way. And God, it felt good. Being looked at like you mattered. Being listened to. His hand brushed your arm when he laughed, and you didn’t pull away. You were almost three drinks deep, flushed and light, head a little fuzzy—but not enough to miss the way he looked at you like you were the only girl at the party.

And for the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel guilty.

In fact, you felt… good.

But that didn’t last long.

Because just when you were finally starting to forget, finally letting yourself lean into the distraction—he showed up.

Rafe.

You saw him before he saw you, swaying slightly as he stepped through the front door. Late, as usual. And it didn’t take a genius to know he’d been drinking already. Maybe he’d been drinking since the second you left.

Your stomach dropped.

And then his eyes found you.

Right there, smiling up at someone else. At Alex. His hand still resting lightly on your arm, his laugh echoing into your ear.

Rafe didn’t stop to think. Didn’t pause to take in the situation. All it took was one look—and he lost it.

────୨ৎ────

You barely had time to register the shift in energy before he was storming across the lawn—eyes locked on you, jaw tight, every bit of him wound up and seconds from unraveling. Alex was still mid-sentence, smiling down at you, when Rafe’s voice cut through the music like a blade.

“The fuck is this?”

Alex turned, brows lifting in confusion. You didn’t have to turn—you already knew.

“Rafe,” you muttered, pulse spiking as you stepped slightly in front of Alex.

He didn’t even look at you. His eyes were locked on the other guy, full of something dark. “You think this is funny? Hitting on someone else’s girl?”

Alex blinked. “Didn’t know she was your girl.”

“I’m not,” you said sharply, cutting the tension before it could spike higher.

That finally made Rafe look at you. Really look.

“Oh, come on,” he snapped. “So you ghost me for four days, and now you’re just—what? Out here playing games with some random guy like none of it mattered?”

You laughed—cold, sharp. “Games? Are you joking?”

He stepped closer. “You disappear. No call, no explanation—and now you’re acting like I don’t get to be pissed seeing you all over someone else?”

“Oh, so now you care?” you fired back, voice rising with the heat bubbling in your chest. “Where was all this fire when you were busy letting other girls hang on you? When you were out getting drunk and making out with random girls? Or when you’d go as far as to do it right in front of me?”

His face hardened. “That was different.”

“How?!” you snapped. “Explain to me how that was different, because from where I’m standing, at least I was honest. At least I never did that shit to you. I’ve been sitting in silence, wondering if I’m asking for too much just to feel like I mattered.”

He didn’t answer. Couldn’t.

And that only made your voice tremble more—not from weakness, but from the weight of everything you’d held in for too damn long.

“You know what the real problem is?” you said, stepping even closer to him now. “It’s that you never once said what we were. Never said what you wanted, never gave me anything. But the second you see me smiling at someone else—someone who’s treating me like I exist—you show up, drunk and territorial like I owe you something?”

“You don’t understand,” he said, quieter now, jaw clenched.

“No. You don’t,” you shot back. “I was never yours, Rafe. You never gave me a reason to be.”

The air between you was thick with things that didn’t get said—months of push and pull, of hot-and-cold nights, of moments that felt like love but never got the name.

“You don’t get to be mad,” you whispered. “Not when you did this.”

And with that, you turned and walked off, leaving him standing there in the middle of the crowd, stunned and silent.

Because for once, the silence was his to sit in—not yours.

────୨ৎ────

You hadn’t meant to come home that morning.

But after a night of pushing drinks past your limit, ignoring everything you felt until it hurt to pretend, your feet carried you there—back to the house, back to the place you’d tried to get space from. The hangover was already kicking in, your head heavy, limbs sore, mascara smudged beneath tired eyes.

You opened the door, expecting the same empty silence.

But instead—flowers.

Multiple bouquets in all different vases, scattered across the kitchen counter like something out of a dream. Tall ones, small ones. Bright and soft colors. You froze. And then your eyes caught the box sitting next to them—full of your favorite snacks, candy, drinks. Little things. But things only someone who really paid attention would know.

And resting in front of it all was a simple card.

You walked toward it slowly, dropped your bag to the floor, and sank into the stool at the breakfast bar. You hesitated before picking it up, fingers trembling slightly as you opened it.

His handwriting was rushed, uneven—but you’d recognize it anywhere.

Y/n,

I know I don’t deserve your time right now. And maybe you’re already done with me—and if you are, I get it. But I had to try. I had to say something before I lost the chance completely.

I screw things up. I break things when I care too much. When something starts to feel real, I sabotage it. Because if I ruin it first, it can’t leave me.

But you… you’re the only thing I didn’t want to ruin. I just didn’t know how not to.

These past four days without you—I’ve felt like I was losing my grip. Not just on us. On everything. Because you’ve become this constant in my life I didn’t know I needed. And now that you’re not here… nothing feels right.

I don’t know what we are. Maybe we never figured that out. Maybe we didn’t know how. But I know what you are to me. You’re my person. And whether we work out or not, no one will ever touch that place in my heart that belongs to you. No one ever could.

Please don’t forget that. Even if we never get it right.

—Rafe

You blinked hard as the words blurred on the page. Your throat tightened, the ache in your chest rising all over again. You were still reading the last line, still trying to breathe through it, when you heard footsteps behind you.

You turned.

And there he was.

Rafe stood in the doorway, looking exhausted. His clothes were wrinkled. His hair a mess. Eyes red-rimmed like he hadn’t slept—or maybe had spent the whole night crying. Or drinking. Or both.

“Hey, you’re back.” he said quietly.

You swallowed. “Rafe…”

He stepped closer, slowly, carefully—like you might run if he moved too fast. You noticed something in his hand, small and dark and velvet.

Your stomach twisted.

“Y/n—”

“Rafe, don’t,” you interrupted quickly, panic rising in your throat. “You can’t just—”

“Before you say anything else,” he started, voice low, “I’m not here to ask for anything. I just wanted to give you something.”

You looked at him for a moment, then gave a small nod, your eyes flicking back to the box in his hand.

“I know how this looks. It’s not a ring,” he added quickly. “I’m not proposing. That’s not what this is.”

A relief flushed through you as you stayed silent, waiting.

He opened the box gently and inside, nestled against the dark velvet, was a delicate tennis bracelet—thin, timeless, lined with diamonds that shimmered in the morning light. It was stunning, but not in a flashy way. It was… meaningful.

“This was my mom’s,” he said quietly. “One of the last things she ever gave me. She told me not to keep it locked away. Said I’d know when it was time to give it to someone who mattered. Someone who meant something to me.”

His eyes were glassy now, but he kept going.

“And I want you to have it.”

You stared at him, blinking hard.

“Not because I want you to feel pressured. Not because I expect anything from you,” he added. “I’m not asking for forever. I’m not even asking for tomorrow. I just… I need you to know that you’re it for me, Y/n.”

He took a shaky breath, then set the box gently down on the counter between you.

“No matter what happens from here—if we figure this out or we crash and burn—you’re still the only person I could ever imagine giving this to. You’re the one. Whether we work or not, that doesn’t change.”

You looked down at the bracelet, then back at him. And for the first time in days, you felt something other than hurt. Something real. Something honest.

You didn’t know what you were going to say. Or what this meant. Or where you were going to go from here.

But for once, you felt like he wasn’t just saying what you wanted to hear.

He was saying what he’d been holding inside all along.

*Ty to all the babies who asked for a pt.2 hope you enjoy!!* @ivy-34 @immyowndefender @artbymin @godsfavoritegirlll @drewstarkeyslover @berryonasummerevening @maryyyswift @whosmaybe @lightbluebaby @esotericcangel @dinnodallas @rafeycameronsgf @pillowprincess4him

so pt.3???

[k2padfoot]

We Don’t Talk About It

Rafe Cameron x Y/n

summary: You and Rafe are best friends turned roommates, and it’s obvious you love each other but neither of you know how to handle it.

Pt.2

Your relationship with Rafe was complicated. That was the easiest way to explain it—if you had to explain it at all.

Which, of course, you never did.

You’ve known each other for years, growing even closer over time. When he finally moved out of his father’s house and started renting a place of his own, he needed a roommate—and just like that, you moved in. Now, almost a year later, here you are.

You and Rafe weren’t dating.

But you weren’t just friends.

You existed in that grey space between definitions and blurred lines, where feelings were left unspoken.

There were no titles. No labels. No conversations.

Just this house you shared, the routines you fell into, the nights you spent watching TV on opposite sides of the couch—legs touching, eyes never meeting for too long.

You cooked for him. He brought you coffee when you were too tired to function. You folded his laundry. He paid your rent when you were short—hell, he paid more than half most months, always insisting it was no trouble.

And at night, when the silence pressed too loud between the walls, it almost felt like love.

Almost.

But it wasn’t. It couldn’t be.

Because neither of you were brave enough to say it.

Whatever it was—whatever had settled in the space between your ribs and his—it went unspoken. Always.

So you pretended.

You smiled too easily. You swallowed your hurt and turned it into sarcasm. When Rafe did something reckless or cruel or cutting, you laughed it off. You told yourself it was fine.

That you were fine.

Rafe had his own way of dealing with it. Bottling things up wasn’t really his thing. Not quietly, anyway.

He didn’t go back to coke—not yet. He swore he wouldn’t. Not after last time.

But he drank. A lot. It was his outlet. His escape. His excuse.

And when Rafe drank, he didn’t come home early. He didn’t lie low. No, he made damn sure you noticed him unraveling.

You weren’t stupid. You knew what he was doing.

He flirted with the kind of girls who fell too easily for the Cameron name, for the money, for the rough hands and sharp jaw and that cold-blue stare.

He let them hang off him, touch his arms, lean in like they belonged to him.

He bought them drinks. Laughed too loud. Sometimes he made out with them—right in front of you, if the setting allowed it.

Like he wanted to be caught.

Like he wanted you to say something.

But you never did.

You’d sit there, drink in hand, heart in your throat, pretending you didn’t feel anything at all. Even when your chest ached like it was cracking open. Even when it took everything in you not to scream.

Because if you admitted it—if you said anything—you’d be crossing a line that couldn’t be uncrossed. You’d be admitting it mattered. That he mattered.

And if you did that, if you opened that door, and he didn’t feel the same? You weren’t sure you’d survive it.

So you swallowed it down and played your part.

Like it didn’t bother you.

Like it didn’t break you in half every time he looked right through you and let someone else have a piece of him.

And Rafe never said a word about it the next day. He never brought the girls around. Never bragged. Never even looked proud of what he did.

But sometimes—when the house was quiet and you caught him sitting alone in the kitchen, hunched over a half-empty glass of bourbon, his jaw clenched, his eyes unfocused—you knew.

You weren’t the only one hurting, you just showed it differently.

And neither of you were willing to be the first one to say it.

────୨ৎ────

It was another late night, and Rafe was nowhere to be found.

You had already showered and changed into your favorite oversized t-shirt—his, ironically—your damp hair twisted into a clip, a pile of unfolded laundry strewn across the living room. The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills buzzed on the TV, the dramatic voices and chaotic edits offering some kind of background comfort while you mindlessly sorted socks and shirts.

You were halfway through pairing the last few when your phone lit up on the kitchen counter.

Snapchat from Nikki

Nikki is typing…

Chat from Nikki

You frowned. Nikki wasn’t someone you talked to often. You worked together—civil enough to share things over the piles of paperwork or bitch about rude customers—but not close. Not close enough for a late-night message unless it was bad.

And it was.

The Snapchat opened to a dimly lit photo—Rafe in a bar, lips tangled with some random blonde, her hands placed over his chest like she owned him.

You stared. You didn’t even blink. Just stared at the screen as the photo disappeared, burning into your brain like a scar.

The next message came quickly.

“I’m so sorry. Just thought you should know.”

That was it. No follow-up. No explanation. Just those few words, and a silent understanding between girls who didn’t have to say more.

You set your phone down on the counter slowly, deliberately, like if you were too quick with it, it would all become real. You didn’t cry. Not yet. Instead, you inhaled shakily through your nose and turned your eyes back toward the TV.

Lisa Rinna was screaming. Someone had thrown a glass. It should’ve distracted you.

But it didn’t.

Because your hands were still gripping the fabric in your lap. And when you looked down, it was one of his shirts—soft, navy blue, the one you always stole from the dryer before he noticed.

You curled your fingers into the cotton until your knuckles turned white.

“Fuck,” you whispered, barely audible, like saying it too loud would make the pain spill out for real.

Your throat tightened. Your chest ached in that awful, crushing way that made breathing feel like a chore. The kind of ache that came from being disappointed in the same person over and over again—but still holding on to hope like an idiot.

Tears started to form, but you blinked them away, refusing to let them fall.

He didn’t get to win.

He didn’t get to break you—not again.

So you turned the volume up, drowning yourself in the screeching of rich housewives, and kept folding the damn laundry like nothing had happened.

Each fold sharper than the last.

Each movement more mechanical.

The clock ticked past 1:00am. No text. No call. No Rafe.

But you waited anyway.

Waited in silent rage, jaw clenched, fists aching, heart shattered in that familiar way only he could manage.

Because that’s what you did.

You waited for the man who never came home clean.

────୨ৎ────

It was 1:52 a.m. when you heard the front door creak open.

Not slammed. Not loud. Quiet. Intentional. Like he wanted to slip in unnoticed and pretend the night never happened.

But you were still on the couch. Still in that damn t-shirt. Still sitting in front of the folded laundry with his shirts sitting on top of the pile like some sick joke from the universe.

You didn’t look up when he stepped inside. Just kept your eyes locked on the TV, even though you couldn’t remember a single thing about the scene playing. Your heart was thudding in your ears, your fingers curled tight around the last shirt in your lap.

Rafe didn’t say a word as he walked past.

No drunken slurs. No stumbling apologies. No lame excuses or half-assed greetings.

Just the smell of whiskey trailing behind him, thick and sour. And maybe the faint trace of someone else’s perfume.

You felt it before you smelled it—sweet and cheap and not yours.

He dropped his keys on the kitchen counter with a soft clink, then opened the fridge, grabbed a bottle of water, and twisted off the cap. Calm. Normal. Like he didn’t just kiss someone else while you sat here wearing his clothes, folding his laundry, trying not to fall apart.

He leaned against the counter and finally looked at you.

“You’re up late.”

His voice was smooth. Steady. Controlled. He was trying to sound casual, bored even. But you knew him too well. You caught the slight hitch in his breath. The way his fingers tightened around the bottle just a little too long. He was waiting—for something.

And you knew what it was.

He wanted you to break.

He wanted you to say something. Call him out. Scream. Cry. Demand an explanation. Beg him to stop. To choose you. To stay.

But you didn’t.

Instead, you shrugged without looking at him. “Couldn’t sleep.”

He scoffed under his breath, almost like a laugh, but there was no humor in it. “Yeah? That’s new.”

You bit your tongue. You weren’t going to do this. Not tonight.

Rafe crossed the room slowly and dropped down onto the opposite end of the couch, letting his arm drape lazily along the back of it, close enough that you could feel the heat of him, the tension rolling off his skin like waves.

You didn’t move.

“Laundry night?” he asked, nodding to the piles.

“Yeah,” you said flatly. “Some of your stuff was in there.”

He smirked. “That why you’re wearing my shirt?”

You didn’t answer.

Because if you did—if you let yourself speak—it would come out like a scream. Like every ounce of pain you’d swallowed since you let yourself love him in silence.

He leaned in closer, just enough for you to feel his breath against your cheek.

“You mad at me, baby?”

You flinched—barely—but he noticed. Of course he did. He always did.

But still, you didn’t look at him.

“I’m not mad,” you said quietly.

“Then what are you?”

“Nothing.”

The lie tasted bitter.

He laughed again, but this time it was darker. Harsher. “Yeah. Sure. Nothing.”

He stood up, tossing the water bottle onto the coffee table as he started to walk toward the hallway. But just before he disappeared, he paused in the doorway and turned back toward you.

“You know, if you’ve got something to say, then say it.”

You finally looked at him then—eyes sharp, jaw tight, heart shattering into pieces so small he’d never be able to pick them up.

But you just said, “No. You’ll figure it out when she isn’t looking for you tomorrow. But I hope she was worth it.”

Rafe didn’t reply.

He just stood there, like he’d been punched in the chest.

Because she wouldn’t.

And he knew it.

None of those girls ever did.

But you had.

Every single time.

And still—he always ruined it.

He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. And after a few seconds, he just turned and walked down the hallway, the bedroom door clicking shut behind him.

The silence after his door shut was suffocating. You sat there, gripping the hem of your shirt—his shirt—until your knuckles ached. The TV droned on, but you weren’t watching anymore. You were too busy replaying that image in your head. That blonde girl’s hands on his chest. Her lips on his. The way Rafe let it happen. Like you meant nothing.

And maybe you did. That was the part that burned the most.

You lasted ten minutes before you snapped.

You stormed down the hallway, and the bedroom door flew open with a bang. You didn’t knock. Just pushed through and found him standing by the dresser, shirt halfway off, belt hanging loose from his pants.

He turned at the sound, eyebrows raised, like he wasn’t expecting you to actually come to him.

“What?” he asked flatly.

You stood there, fists clenched at your sides. “You’re such a fucking asshole, Rafe.”

He blinked. “Took you long enough to say it.”

Your blood boiled.

“Do you get off on this?” you hissed. “Coming home smelling like whiskey and some random girls perfume just to see if I’ll break?”

He smirked, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Why? Did it work?”

You laughed—sharp and bitter. “God, you’re insufferable.”

“And you’re pissed,” he shot back, stepping closer. “But you won’t say why. You never do. You just… fold laundry and stare at me like I kicked your dog.”

You crossed your arms. “I don’t owe you an explanation for how I feel.”

“No?” He tilted his head, eyes narrowing. “Then what are we doing here, Y/n?”

You shook your head and looked away, trying to collect yourself before your voice cracked. “Nothing. We’re nothing. You made that pretty fucking clear again tonight.”

He took another step forward, crowding your space now, chest rising and falling heavier. “Then just say it.”

“What?” you snapped, already regretting raising your voice.

“Say it, Y/n. Say it and I’ll stop.”

You flinched. “Don’t do that.”

His tone softened, but there was desperation bleeding through. “Say it and it will all stop. I swear. But I have to know.”

You looked away again, chest tight with everything you’d been burying for months. You wanted to say it. You did. But not like this. Not when he was drunk and trying to bait it out of you like a confession would fix everything.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you whispered.

“Bullshit,” he growled.

He grabbed your hand, not rough but firm, grounding. His eyes locked onto yours like he was searching for the truth he already knew but needed to hear.

“I’m not playing anymore, Y/n. Just say it.”

And that’s when you snapped.

Your chest was heaving now, the air between you both so charged it felt like it might spark.

“Okay fine!” you yelled, voice cracking with the weight of everything you’d held in. “I love you, Rafe, but—”

He cut you off instantly, like the words shattered whatever control he had left.

“Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for you to sa—”

“I wasn’t done,” you said sharply, stepping back from him.

Rafe froze, lips parting like he couldn’t breathe.

Your voice dropped lower, trembling but steady. “I love you, but I won’t always love you. You keep making me feel like I don’t matter. Like I’m just… here. Like I’m a placeholder until you figure out what the fuck you actually want.”

The room was quiet, too quiet, except for the sound of your own pulse hammering in your ears.

And Rafe just stood there.

Silent.

Still.

Looking at you like he wanted to say something, anything, but couldn’t form the words. Or maybe he just wouldn’t. Maybe this was all he ever had to offer—silent regret and bloodshot eyes.

You swallowed hard, something sharp catching in your throat.

“I watch you destroy yourself,” you said softly, “and everyone who tries to care. And I can’t— I won’t be one of them. So yeah, I love you. But I won’t let it ruin me. Not like it ruins you.”

You didn’t wait for a reaction.

You turned around and walked straight out of his room, not looking back even though you could feel his eyes on you the whole way down the hall. Your bare feet padded across the hardwood floor as the storm of emotion crashed down on you.

When you reached your bedroom door—the one you barely used because you were always in his bed, under his blankets—you turned the knob, stepped in, and slammed it shut behind you.

Click.

The sound of the lock sliding into place echoed in the quiet house.

You stood there for a second, your back against the door, heart racing and tears finally slipping free. You wiped them away roughly, furious with yourself for crying at all.

You weren’t going to fall for it again.

No more soft apologies that led nowhere. No more drunken confessions with slurred edges and empty weight. No more letting him crawl into your bed like nothing ever happened, like the girls, the games, the hurt didn’t exist.

He was going to have to show you he really meant it. And not with words. Not with sex. Not with the same recycled charm he gave everyone else.

You climbed into your cold bed, alone for once, the unfamiliar space echoing with the distance you’d finally built between you.

On the other side of the door, Rafe didn’t knock. Didn’t try the handle.

But you heard him.

His soft footsteps outside your room.

Then nothing.

Just silence.

He was finally realizing that maybe this time, he pushed too far.

That this time… you said it.

You admitted it.

The one thing he’d been waiting to hear—aching to hear—you finally said to him.

And he might’ve just fucked it all up.

*thinking of making a part 2 so if you guys would want that pls lmk!!*

**edit part 2 linked above!!

[k2padfoot]

[k2padfoot]

Only for You

Rafe Cameron x Y/n

summary: Rafe giving you aftercare and being all soft and sweet but you don’t understand why.

warnings: SMUT! soft Rafe, aftercare, fluff.

Your breathing syncs with Rafe’s, each shallow breath matching his as his body moves with yours, slow and intense. His forehead is pressed against yours, dampness of sweat clinging to the skin.

The normally sharp edge in his voice softens, “You’re such a good girl,” he whispers, his words making your pulse jump. His thumb brushes tenderly across your cheek, and the way he looks at you—like you’re the only thing holding him together, sends a heat pooling in your lower abdomen.

He shifts just enough to kiss you, his hands gripping your hips tightly. “I need you to let go for me,” he murmurs, his words a mixture of a plea and command. “I’ve got you, cum for me.”

His rhythm falters and you clutch at him, your nails digging into his back, and with one last thrust you both fall apart. Your body trembled as he moaned your name, his warm cum painting your walls.

He doesn’t move right away, his arms wrapping around you tightly as he buries his face into the crook of your neck, “Fuck, that was so good,” he whispered.

He shifted, gently pulling out before leaning over you. You blinked up at him, your chest still rising and falling heavily, the intensity of what just happened leaving a lingering haze in your body. But beneath that haze, you felt an undeniable vulnerability, a feeling you’d grown used to burying over the years.

Rafe had been silent for a moment, studying you with an unreadable expression. His rough fingers grazed against your cheek with surprising tenderness.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice soft but laced with a concern that made your stomach twist.

You nodded out of habit, brushing the question off. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you murmured, though your voice wavered slightly. You weren’t used to being asked, not used to anyone caring.

Rafe didn’t seem convinced. “Stay here,” he said firmly, slipping out of bed.

You watched him disappear into the bathroom, hearing the sound of running water. Your brow furrowed in confusion, but you stayed put, pulling the covers up to shield your body from the chill in the air. When he returned, he carried a damp washcloth in one hand and a bottle of water in the other.

“What are you doing?” you asked, sitting up slightly.

“Taking care of you,” he replied simply, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Rafe settled on the edge of the bed, gently tugging the covers down. You instinctively flinched at the exposure, but he hushed you with a quiet, “Relax, Y/n.” The washcloth was warm and soothing as he wiped away the remnants of the both of you from your skin. His movements were unhurried, almost reverent, as though he wanted to make sure you felt nothing but comfort.

You didn’t say anything, too stunned to process the intimacy of it all. No one had ever cared to do this for you before. You weren’t even sure you deserved it.

“Why are you doing this?” you finally whispered.

Rafe paused, glancing up at you. “Because I want to,” he said, his tone soft but resolute. “You deserve it.”

His words made your chest ache, the sincerity in his voice catching you off guard. You bit your lip to keep the sudden wave of emotion at bay.

Once he was satisfied, Rafe stood again, tossing the washcloth aside. “Come on,” he said, extending a hand to you.

“Where are we going?”

“Just come with me,” he said, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

He led you into the bathroom, where the tub was already filling with warm water. Steam moved through the air, and the scent of lavender lingered faintly. You blinked in surprise as Rafe turned off the faucet, testing the temperature with his hand.

“You did this for me?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah,” he said, glancing over his shoulder at you. “Now, get in.”

You hesitated for a moment before following his orders, stepping into the tub and sinking into the warmth. The water enveloped you, soothing your sore muscles and grounding you in the moment. Before you could say anything, Rafe climbed in behind you, pulling you gently against his chest.

“Rafe,” you started, but he shushed you, his arms wrapping securely around your waist.

“Just relax,” he murmured into your ear.

For once, you listened, leaning into him as the tension in your body slowly melted away. His hands moved to your hair, massaging your scalp as he worked the suds from the shampoo into a lather. His touch was patient, careful, as if he was afraid to hurt you.

It felt different. Too good, almost. Like you’d stepped into a dream.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” you asked quietly, the question slipping out before you could stop it.

Rafe stopped for a moment before resuming his gentle motions. “Because you’re worth it,” he said simply.

You turned slightly, trying to read his expression. “Do you do this for everyone?”

He let out a soft chuckle, his lips brushing against your temple. “No, Y/n. I don’t.”

Your chest tightened at his answer. It was clear in the way he looked at you, in the care he took with every movement, that this was something different. Something real.

“You don’t have to be shocked, you know,” he added, his voice low but steady. “I like you. A lot. Probably more than I should.”

You didn’t know what to say, your mind reeling from the weight of his words. But as you settled back against him, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your back, you realized you didn’t need to say anything.

For the first time in a long time, you felt safe. And it was because of him.

[k2padfoot]

Shadows of the Past

Rafe Cameron x Y/n

summary: After escaping an abusive ex, you find love and safety with Rafe, your best friend turned boyfriend. When your ex’s obsession escalates into violence, Rafe does what he has to, to save you.

warnings: TW!! Domestic violence, violence, fights, blood, lots of angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, soft rafe.

notes: yall this is a long one, i should’ve made it two parts but oops! i promise it’s worth it<3

You stared out the window of your condo, watching as the rain tapped rhythmically against the glass. The mug of tea in your hands had gone cold, forgotten in your grip. Across the room, Rafe moved easily in the kitchen, his voice filling the space as he hummed some tune he’d probably heard on Spotify earlier.

“Found them!” he called out, holding up the coffee filters he’d been hunting for.

You smiled despite the weight in your chest. Rafe’s presence was a warm blanket on a freezing night—comforting, grounding, and so unlike the chaos you’d known before. Being with him was the first time in over a year you felt like you could breathe, even if it was still shallow at times.

He turned, coffee filters in hand, and grinned at you. “What are you thinking about over there?”

You blinked, quickly forcing a wider smile. “Nothing. Just tired.”

He frowned slightly, walking over and sitting next to you on the couch. His arm draped over your shoulders as he studied you with those piercing blue eyes. “You sure? You’ve been kinda quiet today.”

“I’m fine, Rafe,” you assured him, leaning into his touch. “Promise.”

He didn’t look entirely convinced, but he didn’t push. That was something you appreciated about him, Rafe always gave you the space to open up on your own time. You’d never felt pressured, never felt the looming weight of expectations. It was so different from what you’d known before.

Your ex, Jack, was charming at first, in the way that all toxic men are. He’d swept you off your feet with grand gestures, sweet texts, and a charisma that felt like sunlight after years of loneliness. For a while you thought you’d found everything you ever wanted.

But the cracks began to show. Slowly at first—a comment about the way you dressed, a critique of how you spent your time. Then came the accusations, the jealousy that lurked behind every question, and the sharp words that cut you down whenever you didn’t comply. But the worst part came when his anger turned physical. No matter how hard you tried to avoid conflict—carefully choosing your words, keeping your tone soft, doing everything you could to keep the peace—it was never enough. The smallest mistake, the slightest misstep, would ignite a storm. And once his temper reached that breaking point, you knew you’d bear the brunt of it.

By the end, you were a shadow of yourself, constantly walking on eggshells, wondering how to avoid setting him off. Even after you’d finally found the courage to leave, Jack hadn’t made it easy. He’d called, texted, begged for forgiveness, and then turned cold when you didn’t respond.

It took months before the calls stopped and even longer before you felt safe again. And after months of constructing walls around your heart, letting Rafe in was nothing short of terrifying.

Rafe had been a part of your life for as long as you could remember—your best friend, your rock, the one person you could always rely on. But then came Jack. Jack saw what you and Rafe had, the unshakable bond, the quiet understanding, and he couldn’t stand it. He couldn’t stand him.

So, out of fear, you drifted away. You stopped hanging out with Rafe, stopped calling him, stopped being his friend.. But not because you wanted to, but because Jack made sure you felt you had no choice.

And when you finally broke free from Jack, Rafe was there. He didn’t question you, didn’t get angry or demand explanations. He didn’t judge you for pulling away. Instead, he met you with patience and understanding, quietly reminding you why he had always been the one person you could trust.

He was everything Jack wasn’t. Rafe never raised his voice, never made you feel small. When you told him about your hesitancy to date again, he’d nodded, saying simply, “Take your time. I’ll be here.” And he had been.

You’d let him in, piece by piece, until it felt natural to have him in your life. He made you laugh, made you feel like you were worth something. He’d brought light into the dark places you thought would never see the sun again.

That light, however, had begun to dim in the last few weeks, ever since Jack resurfaced.

It started with the texts. You didn’t recognize the numbers, but the messages were unmistakable:

I miss you darling.

We really need to talk.

You can’t ignore me forever.

At first, you’d brushed it off. Blocked the numbers and pretended it was nothing. But then you started seeing him.

The first time was outside your work. You were on your way out of the office, when you spotted a familiar figure across the street. Jack leaned casually against a black car, his eyes locked on you. Your heart stopped, and for a moment, you considered calling someone—Rafe, maybe, or your coworker Liz. But you didn’t. Instead, you ducked back inside and pretended to be busy until he left.

The second time was worse. You were at the grocery store, balancing a bag on your hip while fumbling for your keys, when you felt it, that prickling sensation on the back of your neck. Turning, you spotted the black car parked at the end of the lot. You couldn’t see inside, but you didn’t need to.

The worst part was how easily you fell back into old habits. You locked yourself in your condo, closed the blinds, and tried to convince yourself it was nothing. And when Rafe came over later that night, you acted like everything was fine.

“Good day at the work?” he’d asked, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Yeah,” you lied, your smile forced but convincing enough.

You hated lying to him. Rafe deserved the truth, but you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him. The thought of dragging him into Jack’s mess made you sick. So you kept it to yourself.

Even when Jack showed up at your office.

You were alone, finishing some paperwork when the chime above the door rang. Your stomach dropped as Jack strolled in, his eyes scanning the room before settling on you.

“Hi darling,” he said, his voice calm and casual. “Long time no see.”

“What are you doing here?” you demanded, gripping the desk to steady yourself.

“I just wanted to talk,” he replied, taking a step closer. “You’ve been ignoring me.”

“I have nothing to say to you,” you said, your voice shaking.

His expression darkened, but before he could respond, Liz walked in. Jack’s mask slipped back into place, and he gave you a pointed look before turning to leave.

You thought about telling Rafe that night. You almost did. But the words caught in your throat, and you convinced yourself it wasn’t worth worrying him.

It wasn’t until the night Jack broke into your condo that you realized you couldn’t keep hiding.

The sound of the window sliding open woke you instantly, the rush of cold air sending a chill down your spine. At first, you thought it was a dream, but then you felt Rafe stir beside you.

“What was th—” he mumbled, his voice groggy but alert.

You both turned toward the window, your heart stopping when you saw the shadowy figure climbing inside.

“Stay here,” Rafe ordered, his voice sharp as he slid out of bed.

But you couldn’t move, frozen as Rafe crossed the room. The intruder froze, too, his eyes meeting Rafe’s before narrowing.

“Are you fucking kidding me,” Rafe muttered, his voice low and furious.

It was Jack.

Before you could process what was happening, Rafe lunged. The room filled with the sound of fists colliding, furniture scraping against the floor, and Jack’s muffled curses.

“Rafe, stop!” you cried, scrambling out of bed to grab your phone and call 911.

Rafe didn’t stop until Jack was slumped against the wall, clutching his face.

“Why the fuck is he here?” Rafe demanded, turning to you.

Your mouth opened, but no words came out.

“Y/N,” he pressed, his voice softer now. “What the hell is going on?”

And that’s when you broke. The tears came fast and uncontrollably, and before you knew it, you were spilling everything. The texts, the car, the nights you’d spent too afraid to sleep.

Rafe listened in silence, his jaw tight and his hands curling into fists at his sides. When you finished, he shook his head.

“You should’ve told me,” he said, his voice steady but filled with something dangerous.

“I didn’t want to drag you into this,” you whispered.

“That’s not your call,” he said, stepping closer and cupping your face in his hands. “You’re mine, Y/N. No one’s gonna hurt you while I’m around. You hear me?”

You nodded, tears streaming down your face as the distant wail of sirens grew louder. Regardless of what just happened, you felt a flicker of hope. Because with Rafe by your side, maybe, just maybe—you weren’t as alone as you thought.

Rafe had been relentless in his efforts to keep you safe since the break-in. Every morning, he was parked outside your place before sunrise, his truck rumbling softly as he waited to drive you to work. Even if you told him you could handle it, he didn’t waver.

“No chance,” he’d said the first time you brought it up. “I’m not letting you deal with this alone.”

You tried to argue, but his resolve was unshakable. He made sure to stay involved in every part of your routine: texting you during your shifts, picking you up without fail, and spending every night either at your place or having you stay with him.

At night, he held you close, his warmth and steady breathing lulling you into the first semblance of peaceful sleep you’d had in weeks. But no matter how safe you felt with Rafe, a part of you couldn’t shake the fear that Jack was still out there, lurking in the shadows.

And you were right, Jack wasn’t gone.

You saw him again a week later.

It was during your shift, just as you were finishing up with a client. When you glanced up at the window, your stomach dropped. Across the street, parked under the dim glow of a streetlight, was the black car.

You couldn’t see his face, but you knew it was him. The way the car sat idling, its headlights off, was enough to send a chill down your spine.

You stepped back from the window, your hands trembling as you tried to focus on anything but the car. The rational part of you screamed to call Rafe, but you didn’t. He’d been doing so much for you already—driving you everywhere, checking in constantly, ensuring you were never alone. You didn’t want to be a burden.

You convinced yourself it was fine. Jack wouldn’t try anything again. Not after what Rafe had done to him that night.

But the sightings continued.

Every few days, the black car would appear, parked across the street from your work or down the block from your condo. And the texts—always from new numbers—started up again.

You can’t hide from me Y/n.

I’ll make you see that we belong together. You’re mine, don’t forget that.

Each time, you blocked the number and deleted the messages, determined not to let him win. You told yourself that ignoring him would make him go away. That he’d get tired eventually.

You didn’t tell Rafe about any of it. He’d done so much already, and you couldn’t bear the thought of adding to his worries. Besides, you convinced yourself that Jack was just trying to scare you. He wouldn’t actually do anything.

You were wrong.

It was a Thursday night when everything changed.

Rafe had called earlier to tell you he’d be late. He rarely stayed late at work, always finding a way to pawn off extra shifts or swap with a coworker. But tonight, it wasn’t possible.

“I’m so sorry, babe,” he said over the phone, frustration heavy in his voice. “I tried to get out of it, but I’m the only one here tonight.”

“It’s okay,” you reassured him. “I’ll be fine. You don’t need to worry.”

“I don’t like leaving you alone,” he muttered.

“You’ve already done so much for me, Rafe,” you said softly. “It’s one night. I’ll lock all the doors and windows, and I’ll be asleep by the time you get here. Promise.”

He sighed heavily. “Alright. But I’m calling you as soon as I leave work, and you better pick up.”

“I will,” you said with a small laugh.

After hanging up, you went about your nightly routine, double-checking the locks and closing all of the blinds. By the time you stepped into the shower, you felt more relaxed, the hot water washing away the stress of the day.

But you failed to notice the bathroom window was left unlocked.

It was nearly 12:30 a.m. when the loud bang jolted you awake. You sat up in bed, your heart racing as you strained to listen. For a moment, all was silent. Then you heard it, the creak of a floorboard just outside your bedroom

Panic gripped you as the door swung open, revealing Jack.

His face was contorted with fury, his eyes wild as they locked onto you. “Get up,” he hissed, stepping closer.

You froze, your body paralyzed with fear.

“Get up!” he snarled, his voice rising. “Or I swear, I’ll kill him. I’ll find Rafe and I’ll kill him.”

The mention of Rafe sent a jolt through you. Your mind raced, trying to figure out what to do. Jack was bluffing—you were sure of it. But the rage in his eyes made you hesitate.

Slowly, you swung your legs over the side of the bed, your hand brushing against the lamp on your nightstand.

Jack was too focused on his anger to notice as you gripped the base of the lamp. Summoning every ounce of courage, you swung it with all your strength, the sound of glass shattering filling the room as it struck his head.

He stumbled back, clutching his face, but his fury only grew.

“You stupid bitch,” he growled, lunging at you.

He grabbed you by the arm, throwing you to the ground with a force that had your head cracking against the floorboards. He straddled you, his fists colliding with your face in a brutal rage.

“You think you can just leave me?” he spat, his voice venomous. “You think you’re safe with him?”

The blows left you disoriented, pain radiating through your body. But the adrenaline coursing through you gave you enough strength to knee him in the balls.

Jack let out a guttural cry, rolling off you, and you scrambled to your feet, desperate to escape.

But he was faster.

His hand shot out, grabbing a fistful of your hair and yanking you back down. This time, he wrapped his hands around your neck, his thumbs pressing hard against your windpipe.

“You really fucked up darling,” he hissed, his face inches from yours.

You clawed at his hands, gasping for air as the world around you began to blur. Your vision darkened, and in that moment, you accepted death.

Then the door burst open.

Rafe stood in the doorway, his face a mixture of shock and fury. In an instant, he was across the room, ripping Jack off of you with a strength you’d never seen before.

“You’re never gonna lay a fucking hand on her again,” Rafe growled, his voice low and dangerous.

Jack barely had time to react before Rafe’s fist connected with his face. The room filled with the sound of flesh hitting flesh as Rafe unleashed his rage, pummeling Jack with a fury that left you trembling.

“Rafe!” you croaked, your voice hoarse from the assault. “Stop! Please!!”

Rafe froze at the sound of your voice, your cry cutting through his rage like a blade. His fist hovered in the air, knuckles already raw and bloodied, as his gaze shifted to you. Jack lay crumpled and unmoving on the floor, but Rafe didn’t look back at him again.

He was at your side in an instant, his eyes wide and frantic as he took in your bruised and battered face. “Y/n,” he breathed, his voice trembling. “Are you okay? Please tell me you’re okay.”

You tried to nod, muttering out a faint, “Yeah,” as tears streamed down your cheeks. But your body felt weak, your vision blurring at the edges. Rafe’s hands cupped your face, his thumbs gently brushing away your tears as he rambled.

“I’m so sorry. This is my fault—I should’ve been here,” he choked out. His voice cracked with guilt as he frantically looked over your injuries. “I should’ve protected you.”

You tried to shake your head, your lips parting to reassure him. “It’s not your fault, Rafe—”

But the words barely escaped before the room started spinning, the world growing dim. You slumped against him, your body going limp as unconsciousness took over.

“Y/n?” Rafe’s voice was high-pitched now, panicked. “No, no, no. Stay with me!” He shook you gently, his hands cradling your lifeless form as tears filled his eyes.

The sound of sirens outside grew louder, but Rafe barely registered it, too focused on you. “Come on, baby, open your eyes,” he begged, his voice breaking. “Please don’t leave me!”

When the paramedics rushed in, they had to forcefully pull him away from you. “Let us work!” one of them barked, but Rafe fought against their hands, unwilling to let you go.

“She’s not breathing right! Help her!” he shouted, his voice raw with fear.

The medics worked quickly, loading you onto a gurney and securing you for transport. Rafe followed close behind, ignoring their attempts to hold him back.

“You can’t ride with her,” one of the paramedics said firmly, blocking his path. “We need you to stay here—those hands need treatment too.”

“I don’t give a shit about my hands!” Rafe yelled, his voice thick with desperation. “She’s all that matters!”

Eventually, he relented enough to follow in his truck, but the second you arrived at the hospital, Rafe was back by your side. He pushed past nurses and doctors, ignoring their protests as they wheeled you into the emergency room.

“Sir, you need to wait outside,” one of the doctors said sharply, stepping in his path.

Rafe didn’t listen. “Is she going to be okay? Please just tell me she’s going to be okay!”

“She’s critical,” the doctor replied, moving swiftly. “She might have a brain bleed. We need to get her into surgery now.”

The words hit Rafe like a punch to the gut. He froze, his hands trembling as he watched them wheel you away.

One of the nurses gently guided him back, urging him to sit. “We’ll keep you updated, but you need to let them work.”

For the first time since the nightmare began, Rafe let himself collapse into the nearest chair. His bloodied hands hung limp at his sides, his mind consumed by a single thought: you had to be okay. You just had to be.

The bright lights of the hospital waiting room buzzed softly above him as he sat, motionless. The metallic scent of his own blood clung to his hands, but he didn’t care. Nurses had already tried to approach him, insisting he get his knuckles cleaned and bandaged, but he’d waved them off every time. His focus wasn’t on himself, it was on you.

The minutes crawled by, turning into hours, and every horrible possibility ran through Rafe’s mind. What if the surgery didn’t work? What if you didn’t wake up? What if he’d walked in just a second too late? His jaw clenched as he fought against the rising tide of guilt and fear.

“Rafe.”

The familiar voice pulled him out of his spiraling thoughts. He looked up to see Sarah standing in front of him, her face a mix of worry and determination. She’d clearly rushed to get there, her hair pulled into a messy ponytail and her expression urgent.

“Hey,” she said softly, sitting down beside him. Her eyes flicked to his hands, which were still caked in blood. “Have you let anyone take care of those yet?”

He shook his head, barely acknowledging her question. “I don’t care about my hands, Sarah,” he muttered, his voice hoarse.

“I know you don’t,” she replied gently, “but you can’t sit here like this. Let me get someone to clean them up. I’ll wait with you for Y/n—okay?”

Rafe hesitated, his gaze flicking toward the double doors that led to the surgical unit. He hated the idea of leaving for even a second, but Sarah gave him a look that told him he didn’t have much of a choice.

“Fine,” he muttered, standing reluctantly as Sarah called over a nurse. While the cuts on his knuckles were cleaned and his hands were wrapped, he sat in silence, his jaw tight. Even Sarah’s presence wasn’t enough to soothe the storm in his mind.

When they returned to the waiting area, Rafe fell back into the same chair, his hands now bandaged but his heart just as heavy. Sarah sat beside him, offering quiet reassurance while they waited.

Hours passed. Each tick of the clock on the wall felt like a punch to his chest. He barely moved, barely blinked, until a figure in scrubs approached. He didn’t even register their presence until Sarah nudged his arm gently.

“Rafe,” she said softly, “they’re here for Y/n.”

His head shot up, his back straightening so quickly it made Sarah flinch. “What? How is she? Is she okay?” he asked, his words tumbling out.

The doctor gave him a kind but measured look. “She’s stable,” he began, his tone professional. “She did have a brain bleed from the impact to her head, but we were able to relieve the pressure, and the surgery was successful. She also sustained a broken nose, a fractured eye socket, and significant bruising across her body. Her face will remain swollen and bruised for at least a week, but the discoloration and swelling will subside over time. The rest of the bruises should fade in the next week or so as well.”

Rafe’s heart pounded as he processed the news, a flood of relief mixing with a lingering dread. “She’s going to be okay?”

“Yes,” the doctor assured him. “She’ll make a full recovery. However, she won’t be awake for the next 10 to 12 hours as she recovers from the surgery. You’re welcome to sit with her, though.”

Rafe didn’t even wait for the doctor to finish before he asked, “What room is she in?”

The doctor gave him the room number, and Rafe stood immediately, turning to Sarah. “Thank you for coming, Sarah,” he said, his voice softer now. “You can go—I’ll let you know as soon as she wakes up.”

Sarah hesitated, clearly reluctant to leave him alone. But she saw the determination in his eyes and nodded. “Okay. Call me if you need anything,” she said, squeezing his arm before heading out.

Rafe made his way to your room, his heart pounding as he stepped inside. The sight of you hooked up to monitors, your face swollen and bruised, nearly broke him. He pulled the uncomfortable hospital chair closer to your bed and sat down, his eyes fixed on you.

For the next eleven hours, Rafe didn’t move except to use the bathroom. He ignored the stiffness in his body and the ache in his hands, his sole focus on you. Each beep of the machines was a small reassurance that you were still here, still breathing.

“Come on, baby,” he whispered at one point, his voice raw. “Wake up. Just wake up.”

The room was silent, except for the hum of the machines and the occasional murmur of nurses outside. And though exhaustion pulled at him, Rafe tried to stay alert, to make sure he could see your eyes open again.

When your eyes finally fluttered open, a low groan of pain escaped your lips as the harsh fluorescent lights overhead pierced through your disoriented state. Every inch of your body ached, a deep, relentless pain that made it hard to focus. But amidst it all, one sensation stood out—a warm, familiar hand clasped tightly around yours

You didn’t have to look to know whose hand it was. It was Rafe’s.

Turning your head slightly, you let your gaze drift toward him. He sat slumped forward, his exhaustion etched into every detail of his face—the disheveled hair, the dark circles under his eyes, the vacant, almost numb stare he had fixed on your joined hands.

You gave his hand a small, deliberate squeeze, and his head snapped up instantly, his blue eyes locking onto yours. For a moment, his expression froze, a mix of disbelief and relief washing over him.

“You’re awake?” he breathed, his voice trembling before it turned into an almost frantic exclamation. “Oh my god, you’re awake!”

He practically leapt out of the chair, his hands cupping your face with a gentleness that contrasted with the desperation in his movements. His eyes searched yours, as if trying to convince himself this was real. “I’m so sorry, baby,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I’m so fucking sorry. I should’ve been there—”

“Don’t, Rafe,” you cut him off, your hands reaching up to cover his still resting on your face. Your voice was soft but firm, even as tears blurred your vision. “It’s not your fault. You saved me, Rafe. I’m here because of you. Don’t you dare blame yourself for a second.”

His eyes glistened with tears he couldn’t hold back anymore. “I was so scared, Y/n,” he admitted, his voice cracking. “I thought—God, I thought I was going to lose you.”

“I know,” you whispered, your own tears slipping down your cheeks now. “I know, baby. But I’m okay, and it’s all because of you.”

Rafe leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss that was tender yet filled with an aching intensity. It was a kiss of relief, of longing, of all the pain and love he couldn’t put into words. When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours.

“I love you,” he murmured, his voice steady this time. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Rafe,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper, but the weight of your words clear.

Moments later, the doctors came in to explain your condition. You listened as they laid out everything: the brain bleed they had successfully treated, the broken nose, the fractured eye socket, the extensive bruising across your body. You nodded along, but it was Rafe who absorbed every word like his life depended on it. He asked questions, made notes in his mind, and ensured he knew every detail about what your recovery would entail.

When the doctors left, Rafe stood silently for a moment before moving toward your bed. Carefully, he adjusted the wires and tubes connected to you, making room for himself to climb in beside you. He wrapped an arm gently around you, mindful of your injuries, and pulled you close. For a long time, the two of you stayed like that, the steady rhythm of his breathing grounding you.

Eventually, you broke the silence, your voice tentative. “Rafe… what happened to him? To Jack?”

Rafe tensed at the mention of his name, his jaw tightening as he exhaled slowly. His fingers brushed a stray strand of hair from your face as he met your gaze. “The cops brought him to the hospital after… after I dealt with him,” he said, his voice calm but edged with anger. “Once he was stable, they took him straight to the station. But you don’t need to worry about him anymore. Ward made sure they threw the book at him. He’s not getting out anytime soon.”

Relief washed over you, and you nodded, your gaze drifting away as your mind tried to process everything. Rafe noticed the shift in your demeanor, his hand gently tipping your chin so you’d meet his eyes again.

“He’s not going to hurt you again, Y/n,” he said firmly, his voice steady and filled with conviction. “I promise. Never again.”

“I know,” you replied softly, offering him a faint smile before settling against his chest once more.

After a moment, Rafe spoke hesitantly, “I had cleaners go through your condo—it was such a mess. And Sarah’s ready to pack up your things whenever you say the word… I mean, if you want to come stay with me. But if you don’t, that’s totally okay too, I just—”

“Rafe,” you interrupted, a small smile tugging at your lips despite the pain, “I’d love to come stay with you.”

Relief flooded his face as he nodded. “Okay. I’ll let Sarah know.”

The room fell into a comfortable silence after that, broken only by the faint hum of the machines. After a while, you tilted your head to look up at him.

“Rafe?”

“Hmm?” he hummed, his fingers brushing gently over your cheek.

“Thank you. For everything. I know this probably isn’t what you signed up for when you asked me out, but… I’m so grateful you’re still here.”

Rafe’s eyes softened, his thumb tracing small circles on your cheek. “Don’t thank me, baby. I’d do anything for you. And I’m not going anywhere. I love you—all of you. There were moments I didn’t think you’d wake up, and just the thought of losing you…” He trailed off, his voice thick with emotion. “I can’t ever be without you.”

A single tear slipped down your cheek, and you reached up to brush it away before smiling faintly. “I love you too, Rafe. So, so much.”

He leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead, holding you as if he’d never let go. And you knew he wouldn’t. You knew you’d be okay with him by your side.

[k2padfoot]

Let Me Show You

Rafe Cameron x Y/n

summary: Your relationship with Rafe is complicated, but you’re always there when he calls. After another explosive fight with Ward, you decide it’s time to show him what real love feels like.

warnings: SMUT!! Parental abuse, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff.

Your relationship with Rafe was complicated, to say the least. For months now, the two of you had been caught in this undefined space of not quite official, but undeniably more than casual. Rafe had always been guarded, struggling to let anyone get too close, but you kept trying. You couldn’t help it. Most of your friends couldn’t stand the idea of you being around him. They didn’t get it. They didn’t get him. But you did. You saw past the tough exterior, the anger, the mistakes. You saw the broken pieces he worked so hard to keep together. And Rafe? He understood you in ways no one else did. It was like you were two halves of the same puzzle, fitting together in a way that made sense to you both, even if no one else could see it.

You’d been here before, parked outside the Cameron home in the middle of the night, your hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly your knuckles turned white. This wasn’t the first time you’d shown up at Rafe’s after a bad night, but something about tonight felt different. Worse.

The wind carried a hint of salt from the ocean, the sound of waves crashing against the shore in the distance. But the house was quiet, almost too quiet. The kind of silence that felt heavy, like it was pressing down on your chest.

You turned the engine off and sat there for a moment, your heartbeat drumming in your ears. You weren’t sure what you’d find, but you couldn’t shake the image of Rafe’s face the last time you had to come here — the way his jaw clenched, his eyes dark with something you hadn’t seen before.

Your hand trembled as you reached for the door handle. You knew what he was dealing with, at least most of it. Ward Cameron wasn’t the picture-perfect father he liked to pretend to be. Behind closed doors, the mask slipped, revealing a side of him that was cold, controlling… abusive.

You stepped out of the car, the gravel crunching under your feet as you made your way to the side entrance, the one Rafe always left open for you. You pushed the door and slipped inside, the house dark and eerily still. You moved quietly through the halls, the only sound your own heartbeat pounding in your ears.

You found him in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, his bare shoulders hunched, a fresh bruise blooming across his cheekbone. He didn’t notice you at first, his head bowed as he stared down at his fists.

“Rafe,” you called softly, and his head jerked up, eyes wide and wild for a moment before he recognized you.

“What are you doing here?” He asked.

You took a step closer, your heart aching at the sight of him. “I came to see if you were okay,” you replied. “I—I was worried, I saw your text about Ward.”

He snorted, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. “Yeah? Well, you shouldn’t be. I’m fine.”

But you could see the way his hands shook, the way his breath hitched, and you knew he was anything but fine.

“What happened?” you asked, your voice soft, cautious.

He looked away, his jaw clenching, and you could see the way his shoulders tensed, like he was trying to hold himself together, piece by piece.

“It’s nothing,” he muttered, his voice tight. “Just… my dad being my dad.”

You stepped closer, reaching out to touch his arm. “Rafe,” you pressed, “Tell me the truth. What did he do?”

Rafe flinched at your touch, and for a moment, you thought he might pull away, but then his shoulders slumped, the fight seeming to drain out of him.

“He just.. he lost it again,” Rafe admitted, his voice barely more than a whisper. “Started yelling about how I’m a disappointment, how I’m ruining everything, the usual right?”

Your heart clenched at the pain in his voice, the way he spoke like he was used to this, like it was just another day in the Cameron household. You knew Ward had a temper, but it was more than that. It was the way he tore into Rafe, the way he belittled him, made him feel like he was worth nothing. And sometimes, it was worse than just words.

“And then he hit you,” you said quietly, your eyes tracing the bruise on his cheek.

Rafe shrugged, a bitter smile on his lips. “He’s done worse,” he muttered.

You felt anger flare up inside you, hot and fierce. “He can’t treat you like this,” you snapped. “He’s your father. He’s supposed to protect you, not… not hurt you.”

Rafe’s eyes flicked to yours, something dark and haunted in his gaze. “Yeah, well, he doesn’t exactly see it that way,” he said, his voice hollow. “He thinks he’s teaching me a lesson. Making me tough, making me into a man or whatever bullshit he tells himself.”

You reached out, cupping his face gently, your thumb brushing against the edge of the bruise. He winced but didn’t pull away, his eyes locked on yours.

“He’s wrong,” you whispered, your voice fierce. “You’re not the problem, Rafe. You’re not broken.”

His eyes softened, just a little, and for a moment, you thought he might break down right then and there. But instead, he took a deep breath, his hands coming up to rest on your waist, pulling you closer.

“I don’t know why you care so much, I don’t deserve it” he muttered, but his voice had lost its edge, replaced by something softer, something that sounded almost like hope.

“Because I see you,” you replied. “I see who you really are, and it’s not what he says. It’s never been what he says.”

Rafe’s grip tightened on your waist, his forehead resting against yours. “You make me feel like I’m not worthless,” he murmured. “Like maybe… maybe there’s something good in me.”

“Because there is,” you insisted, your voice firm. “There’s a lot of good in you, Rafe. You just gotta stop believing his lies.”

He closed his eyes, a shuddering breath escaping his lips. “It’s hard,” he admitted, his voice raw. “It’s so fucking hard.”

“I know,” you whispered, your hands moving to his bare back, holding him close. “But you’re stronger than him. You’re better than him.”

For a moment, he just stood there, his body tense against yours. Then, slowly, he relaxed, his head dropping to your shoulder, his breath warm against your neck.

“Stay with me,” he murmured, his voice barely more than a breath. “Just stay, please.”

“I’m not going to leave you,” you promised, your hand running through his soft hair. “I’m right here.”

Rafe pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours, and you saw the fear there, the vulnerability that he rarely let anyone see. He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, tentative kiss. It was different this time — not desperate or wild, but gentle, as if he was afraid you might break.

You kissed him back, your heart breaking for the boy who’d never felt like he was enough. For the boy who’d been taught to believe that love came with conditions and that pain was just part of that deal.

But you wanted to show him different. You wanted to show him that love could be soft, that it could be safe. That he didn’t have to earn it or fight for it, that he was worthy just as he was.

As the kiss deepened, you felt him relax against you, his hands moving up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek. It was tender and sweet, and for a moment, the world outside didn’t matter. It was just you and him, wrapped up in each other, in the quiet understanding that maybe, just maybe, you could heal each other’s broken parts.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes were softer, his expression more at peace than you’d seen in a long time. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

You smiled, your thumb brushing against his lips. “You don’t have to thank me,” you replied. “I’m here because I care, and I want to show you how much I do.”

You smile, your hand sliding down to take his. “Come upstairs with me,” you say, your voice still soft, but with an invitation to leave all of the chaos behind, if only for a little while.

He hesitates, his fingers tightening around yours, but you give him a gentle squeeze, leading him toward the stairs. “Let me take care of you,” you murmur, your eyes filled with a tenderness that makes his breath hitch.

As you guide him up the stairs, your steps are slow and unhurried, every movement filled with quiet promises. You glance back at him, giving him a small, reassuring smile, your hand squeezing his just a bit tighter.

When you reach the top of the stairs, you stop in front of his bedroom door, turning to face him. “I just want you to feel loved,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. His eyes search yours again, and this time, there’s a flicker of something softer, sweeter.

You step closer, bringing your hand up to cup his cheek, “Let me show you,” you say as your lips hover near his, your breath warm against his skin. He closes his eyes, leaning into your touch, and you can feel the tension begin to melt away bit by bit as you slowly guide him inside.

You shut the door softly behind the two of you, the faint click of the latch sealing you both inside, away from the rest of the world. The room feels smaller now, the air thick with unspoken words and the heat of anticipation. You turn to him, your hand still on his cheek, feeling the rapid beat of his pulse beneath your fingertips.

His eyes are still closed, his breath shallow, and for a moment, you just watch him. The way he’s standing there, so vulnerable, makes your heart ache. You know he’s not used to letting his guard down like this, and you don’t want to rush him.

“Are you okay with this?” you ask, your voice barely more than a whisper. You shift a little closer, your bodies almost touching, your eyes searching his face for any sign of doubt. “Do you want to do this?”

His eyes flutter open, and when he looks at you, there’s something in his gaze that takes your breath away. A mix of longing and something deeper—something you can’t quite put into words.

He swallows hard, and his hands come up to rest on your waist, fingers flexing as if he’s testing the feel of you beneath his touch. “Yes,” he murmurs, his voice rough and low. “I want this. I want you.”

Your heart skips a beat, a rush of warmth flooding through you. You lean in closer, your lips barely brushing against his as you whisper, “Then you can have me.”

Within seconds his lips crashed into yours with a mix of desperation and need. His hands were exploring all over your body as he gently guided you toward the bed. You swiftly turned him around, softly pushing him back on to the bed, crawling over top of him and reconnecting your lips in a desperate manner, “You’re perfect Rafe.” you muttered between kisses, before your lips trailed to his neck and then to his ear. When you placed a gentle bite to his ear a hushed moan escaped his lips.

Quickly he started trailing his own lips on your neck this time, and after placing a few marks he drew himself back, his hands reaching for the hem of your shirt. “Take this off for me.” He said in a low tone that sent shivers down your spine.

Gently Rafe pulled off your shirt and to his surprise you weren’t wearing any bra, “Fuck.” He let out a shaky breath as he took in the sight of your bare chest. “So beautiful.” He muttered through sloppy kisses down your neck until he reached your tits, and without warning he took your nipple into his mouth and began swirling his tongue around it, earning a low moan from you.

“Mmm, you sound so pretty baby.” Rafe groaned against your tits.

Through muffled moans you pushed Rafe off of your chest, “As much as I want you to keep doing that, please let me take care of you first.” You practically begged.

Rafe smiled up at you, his thumbs softly running gentle circles into your hips. “You know you don’t have too?”

“Rafe, I want too. I want to show you how much I care about you.” You softly spoke, your eyes never leaving his.

You watched as his eyes softened in a way that you’d never seen before, in a way that almost looks like he loves you as much as you love him. “Please Y/n, that’s all I want,” he pleaded to you.

You smiled at him before leaning in and planting a tender kiss to his lips. Pulling away, you placed your hands onto his bare chest and slowly drug your fingers down his toned abs, earning a small grunt from Rafe’s lips.

Your fingers finally met the edge of his sweats as you curled them around the grey material and slowly pulled the pants and boxers down. A small gasp escaped your lips as his rock hard cock sprung against his lower belly, the precum dripping from his tip having you immediately licking your lips in anticipation.

“God Rafe, you’re unreal.” You said as you sat there admiring him like a piece of art. You bent down planting tender kisses to his lower belly, continuing with equal devotion down to the curve of his hips. “I’m gonna take good care of you.” You uttered just before taking his length into your mouth.

“Ohh shit, Y/n.” He cried out as you worked your tongue around his shaft, your head bobbing up and down at an eager pace.

Your swirled your tongue around his tip before taking all of him into your throat, “Don’t stop baby,” Rafe cried out in bliss, his fingers gripping your hair now, “I-I’m close.” You moaned around his cock, sucking harder, faster, and that was all it took before you felt him release into your mouth.

But before he could even catch his breath your hands were gently gliding up his stomach, ascending to his chest, only to stop with a gentle touch to his face. “You’re so special, Rafe.” You whispered, letting your thumb tenderly stroke his bruised cheek.

Rafe’s blue eyes locked on yours, a flicker of intensity flashing within them. “Say that again,” he murmurs, his voice a soft command that sends a shiver through your body.

Your heart clenched at his words. You gazed at him, your eyes brimming with adoration, and with a soft whisper, you repeated the words, capturing his lips in to a passionate kiss.

The kiss deepened, growing more heated with every passing second as Rafe’s hands roamed hungrily over your body. Without breaking away, you hastily shimmied out of your shorts and panties, pressing yourself against him, feeling the sweet friction of his shaft against your aching core.

At the sudden feeling of your slick folds sliding against his cock, a deep moan escaped Rafe’s lips, vibrating through the air before he abruptly broke the kiss. You didn’t stop though, you kept moving against him, your hips grinding in a desperate rhythm as his free hand gently tilted your chin up, forcing your gaze to meet his. His eyes were dark with desire, his mouth parted in a breathless ‘o’ as he stared at you with a raw intensity. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispered, his voice thick with need.

You captured his lips again, moaning softly against them as your hips moved with a deliberate rhythm, grinding even harder against him. Rafe broke the kiss, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he pressed his forehead against yours. “Fuck Y/n,” he panted, eyes wild with desire, “Are you trying to kill me?”

A sly smile curved your lips, “Maybe I am,” you murmured teasingly. “You think I should do something about it?”

His hands gripped your waist, his voice almost a growl. “Please,” he pleaded, a mix of frustration and need etched across his face. You felt a rush of emotions at his plea and slowly you wrapped your fingers around his cock, positioning him at your entrance, and with deliberate slowness you began to sink down on him, every inch igniting a fire between you both.

Rafe’s head flew back, a deep guttural groan escaping his throat at the same time a sultry moan left your own lips.

You sank all the way down, taking a moment to feel the closeness before you began to bounce on his cock, the rhythm starting to build as his hands found your tits. He caressed you tenderly, twirling your nipple between his fingers and drawing a soft moan from your mouth. You began to pick up your pace, rocking your hips with more intensity, the air filled with nothing but your combined moans and the sharp, steady sound of skin meeting skin.

“Oh—oh god, you’re so good to me.” Rafe cried out in bliss, his voice thick with emotion. His words almost made you pause, a rush of warmth flowing through you. And without thinking, you answered, “Only for you baby, ohh Rafe.. only for you.”

Without warning, Rafe swiftly flipped you onto your back, taking control as he hovered over you now. His thrusts became urgent, driven by need and pure desire. One hand gripped your hip with a sharp hold, while the other cupped your jaw, guiding your gaze to meet his. “I… I love you,” he managed to utter, his voice laced with emotion.

You felt his words hit you harder than the intensity of his movements. For a second, your breath caught, and your mind spun. Rafe Cameron loves you. It was something you’d never really let yourself believe could happen, and yet here he was, looking at you like you were his entire world. The vulnerability in his eyes stripped away every doubt, every hesitation you might’ve had.

A soft, genuine smile tugged at your lips as you reached up, brushing a hand through his hair and whispering, “I love you too, Rafe.” The way his expression shifted made your heart swell. You could feel the tension between you both change, a new kind of urgency building as his pace quickened.

“Fuck, let go for me baby. Cum all over my cock,” he whispered against your lips. Your body immediately reacted to his words as you let go around him, his own release following closely. Rafe’s chest heaved as he slowly lowered himself beside you, his arm pulling you close so you rested against him, feeling his heartbeat start to steady under your palm. Silence settled around you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was a moment suspended in time, a shared quiet that didn’t need words.

He let out a shaky exhale, as though he were finally able to breathe. “You make me feel… different,” he admitted, almost to himself, his fingers tracing gentle circles along your back. “Like I’m enough. Even when I’m not proud of who I am, you see me like no one else ever has.” He said, his voice breaking slightly with the weight of his confession.

You tilted your head up to look at him, your fingers grazing his cheek. “You are enough, Rafe,” you murmured, your words a promise. “I see every part of you, even the parts you’re scared to show anyone else. And I love you because of it, not in spite of it.” He gazed down at you, his blue eyes softened with an emotion so raw it nearly took your breath away again. His thumb brushed gently over your cheek as he whispered, “I don’t deserve you… but I’m so damn grateful you’re here.”

You smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “I’m not going anywhere,” you promised, feeling his arms wrap around you a little tighter. For the first time in a long time, you knew he believed it.

[k2padfoot]

In the Quiet Hours

Rafe Cameron x Y/n

summary: A sleepless night at Rafes leads to a heated run in with Ward, uncovering dangerous secrets and dragging you into a deeper mess.

warnings: *TW* violence, sexual harassment, fear, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff.

The night in the Cameron house was unnervingly quiet, with only the soft hum of the AC breaking the stillness. You had been lying beside Rafe for hours, staring up at the ceiling unable to sleep. The heat combined with the swirling thoughts in your head made it impossible to fall asleep. So you decided to slip out of bed, careful not to disturb Rafe’s peaceful slumber, and headed downstairs for a glass of water.

As you reached the bottom of the stairs, the dim light from the kitchen caught your eye. Your steps slowed, it was late—too late for anyone else to be up.

You pushed open the door to the kitchen and stopped dead in your tracks. Ward was stood by the sink, a half empty glass of whiskey in his hand, his eyes immediately locking onto you as you entered the room. There was something unsettling about the way he looked at you, his gaze lingering a little too long, a little too intently.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” Ward’s voice was low, almost a growl as he set his glass down and took a slow step towards you. “Couldn’t sleep?”

You tried to keep your composure, forcing a small smile as you replied, “Just need to get some water.”

Ward’s smile widened, but there was nothing friendly about it. “Water? At this hour?” He stepped closer, the space between you shrinking rapidly. “You know, there’s a much better way to take care of your thirst.” He slurred.

You felt your stomach churn at his words. “I should get back upstairs,” you said quickly, but when you turned to leave Ward’s hand shot out, grabbing your wrist. His grip was rough as your heart began to race.

“Why the rush?” he asked, his voice dripping with a fake sweetness. “Rafe’s out cold. He won’t even know you’re gone.”

You tugged at your wrist, but Ward’s grip tightened, his fingers digging into your skin. He pulled you closer until you could feel the heat radiating off of his body, his breath warm against your face.

“Ward, please,” you whispered, trying to keep your voice steady despite the panic rising in your chest. “Let me go.”

But instead of letting you go, he leaned in even closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “You’re too good to be wasting your time with my son. You deserve someone who knows how to treat a woman, knows exactly what she needs.”

Your breath hitched, fear tightening its grip on you. Ward’s free hand trailed up your arm, sending a shiver of disgust down your spine. “I could give you things no one would ever could,” he continued, his voice laced with something dark and twisted. “Just say the word, and I’ll make you feel things you’ve never felt before.”

You tried to pull away, but Ward was relentless, his grip like a vice. “Ward, stop,” you pleaded, your voice trembling now. “I’m in love with Rafe.”

“And that’s supposed to mean something to me?” Ward sneered, his hand moving to your waist, pulling you even closer. “Rafe doesn’t deserve such a pretty thing, he’s useless sweetheart.”

The way he said “sweetheart” made your skin crawl. You opened your mouth to say something, scream, anything at all, but before you could the sound of footsteps echoed down the hall.

“Ward, what the hell are you doing?”

Rose’s voice cut through the air like a knife, she stood in the doorway eyes wide with shock as she took in the scene. Ward’s grip on you loosened and he stepped back, his expression quickly shifting to one of feigned innocence.

“Nothing Rose,” he said smoothly, though his voice carried a slight edge. “Just a little late night chat.”

Rose’s eyes narrowed as she looked between the two of you, clearly not convinced. “Go back upstairs,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. “Now.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. You quickly moved past Ward, avoiding his eyes as you hurried towards the stairs. As you reached the bottom, you could still feel his gaze on you, burning into your back.

You rushed up the stairs, returning to Rafe’s room as quickly as you could. The darkness of the room was a stark contrast to the burning anxiety in your chest, and for a moment, you just stood there staring at the bed where Rafe lay sleeping, his breathing deep and even.

You wanted to crawl back into bed, wrap yourself in Rafe’s arms and pretend nothing had happened, but the thought of it made your stomach turn. How were you going to explain what just happened? How could you even begin to tell Rafe what his father just did to his girlfriend?

Your thoughts were racing, tangled up in fear and confusion. You didn’t want to wake Rafe. You didn’t want to burden him with this, not when you weren’t even sure how to process it yourself. The last thing you wanted was to make things worse between him and his father, but the weight of what just happened felt suffocating and you knew you couldn’t just go back to bed and pretend everything was fine.

Without thinking, you turned and slipped into Rafe’s bathroom. The cold tiles under your feet grounded you just enough to keep the panic at bay as you shut the door behind you. You sank to the floor, your back against the cool wall, and pulled your knees up to your chest wrapping your arms around them.

The quiet of the bathroom was almost too much, the silence allowing your thoughts to race unchecked. You replayed the scene over and over in your mind, Ward’s voice, his touch, the way he looked at you. It made you feel sick, like you wanted to scrub your skin raw just to get rid of the memory. But no matter how hard you tried to push it away, it lingered, festering like a wound.

You sat there for what felt like an eternity trying to collect yourself, trying to figure out what to do next. But you couldn’t stop the tears that began to well up in your eyes, hot and stinging as they slid down your cheeks. You buried your face in your hands, desperate to muffle your sobs that threatened to escape, not wanting to wake Rafe and force him to see you like this.

But Rafe had always been attuned to you, even in his sleep. It wasn’t long before you heard him stirring in the bedroom, the sheets rustling as he reached out for you. When his hand met the empty space, you heard him sit up, his voice groggy and thick with sleep.

“Baby?” Rafe called out softly, the concern already creeping into his voice when you didn’t respond. You could hear him getting out of bed, his footsteps soft as he walked around the room searching for you. “Where’d you go?”

You tried to stay quiet, hoping he might just go back to bed, but when he reached the bathroom door there was no hiding from him. He knocked gently, the sound soft but insistent. “You in there?”

You took a shaky breath, trying to compose yourself before answering. “Yeah… I’m here.”

The door opened almost immediately and Rafe stepped inside, his eyes narrowing with worry when he saw you sitting on the floor, tears streaking your face. He was by your side in an instant, dropping to his knees in front of you, his hands gently cupping your face as he searched your eyes.

“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” His voice was laced with fear and concern, his thumb brushing away a tear that slipped down your cheek. “Why are you crying baby? Did something happen?”

You wanted to tell him you were fine, that it was nothing, but the words stuck in your throat, your voice betraying you with a broken sob. Rafe’s expressions shifted from worry to alarm, his hands tightening on your face as he tried to get you to look at him.

“Talk to me,” he pleaded, his voice cracking with desperation. “What happened?”

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but the moment you met his eyes the dam broke and everything came pouring out. “I-It was your dad… Ward— he…” your voice trembled as you struggled to find the right words. “He cornered me in the kitchen, he—he said things, Rafe, disgusting things, a-and he wouldn’t let me go…”

Rafe’s entire demeanor changed in an instant. His eyes darkened with a fury you’d never seen before, his jaw clenching so tightly you could see the muscle twitch. He pulled away from you, his hands dropping to his sides as he stood up abruptly, fists clenching and unclenching as if he was trying to keep himself from exploding.

“That stupid piece of shit,” Rafe growled, his voice low and dangerous. “I’m gonna fucking kill him.”

“No Rafe, please,” you cried, scrambling to your feet and grabbing his arm before he could storm out of the bathroom. “Don’t leave.. Please don’t leave.”

Rafe stopped in his tracks, turning to face you, his expression softening the moment he saw the fear in your eyes. The anger drained from him just as quickly as it had appeared, replaced with a deep concern that twisted his features into a pained expression.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, pulling you into his arms and holding you tightly against his chest. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You cling to him, your fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt as you buried your face in his chest, breathing in his familiar scent. It was grounding, comforting, even as the storm of emotions raged inside you.

“It’s not your fault,” you murmured, your voice muffled against his chest. “Just.. please just stay with me.”

Rafe’s arms tightened around you, his lips pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “I’m not going anywhere,” he promised, his voice etched with emotion. “I’m here okay? I’m right here.”

You nodded, the tension in your body slowly beginning to ease as you let yourself relax in his embrace. He gently guided you back down to the floor, sitting with you, his arms never leaving your body as he held you close trying to offer you some semblance of comfort.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered again, over and over, his voice breaking each time. “I should’ve protected you.. I should’ve known.”

“Rafe, stop,” you whispered back, lifting your head to meet his gaze. “You couldn’t have known, this isn’t your fault.”

He shook his head, tears welling in his own eyes now as he looked at you, his expression filled with regret and self-loathing. “I just.. I never wanted something like this to happen to you. You don’t deserve this, you deserve so much better.”

You placed your hand on his cheek, your thumb brushing away a tear that escaped. “Don’t, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” you said softly, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside you. “I just need you with me right now. That’s all I need.”

Rafe’s eyes softened and he nodded, his forehead resting against yours as he let out a shaky breath. “I’m here,” he whispered again. “I’m not going anywhere, I’ll be right here as long as you need.”

You closed your eyes, feeling a sense of relief wash over you as you leaned into him, letting his presence soothe the raw edges of your emotions. Rafe’s hands ran soothingly up and down your back, his touch gentle and calming as he whispered soft reassurances into your ear.

For a long time the two of you just sat there on the bathroom floor, wrapped in each others arms, the world outside fading away as you found solace in each other. Rafe kept murmuring apologies, but you hushed him each time because the only thing that mattered right now was that he was here with you, holding you together when you felt like falling apart.

And as minutes ticked by, you started to feel a sense of peace returning, knowing that no matter what happened next you wouldn’t have to face it alone. Rafe was here, and for now, that was enough.

[k2padfoot]

Texts with Rafe Cameron Pt.4

Rafe Cameron x Y/n

synopsis: Rafe being overly protective and worried for his bbg while also being an insecure baby.

[k2padfoot]

Texts with Rafe Cameron Pt.3

Rafe Cameron x Y/n

synopsis: Rafe being an obsessive controlling freak. mdni.

[k2padfoot]

Texts with Rafe Cameron Pt.2

Rafe Cameron x Y/n

synopsis: Rafe being a possessive, needy freak. mdni.

[k2padfoot]

Texts with Rafe Cameron

Rafe Cameron x Y/n

synopsis: Rafe being super soft with his baby girl but also still being a possessive freak. mdni.

Pt.2

this is the first time i’ve done anything like this and i kinda really like it😭

i think i may do more with the characters i write for, and i would absolutely LOVE some requests for more content like this!!

quick edit - i added a part two at the top!

[k2padfoot]

Long Island Iced Teas

Eddie Munson x Y/n

summary: You left Eddie a month ago after thinking he was into Chrissy, when you run into him at the hideout things get a little messy.

warnings: Sorry Nancy is kind of a shitty friend in this, alcohol, some angst, hurt/comfort, fluff.

It had been at least a month since you stormed out on Eddie, not talking to him at all since. It was stupid really and it was all your fault. You don’t know why you got so jealous but you did. Maybe it was because of how much you loved Eddie or maybe it was because of your stupid insecurities. Either way you messed up big time accusing him of being into Chrissy.

When you and Nancy walked into the hideout you weren’t surprised to see Eddie sat at the bar with a beer in his hand, but you were reluctant to stay.

“Nanc.. I don’t know if this a good idea.” you whispered to her as you tried to hide behind her petite frame.

Nancy immediately caught on to your hesitation once she saw Eddie, “Oh come on!” she turned to look at you, “Just ignore him, you deserve to let loose a bit.” She said as she reached for your hand dragging you over to the bar.

“Two long island iced teas please!” Nancy shouted over the crowd to the man working behind the bar.

To your luck Nancy had already hit it off with the guy next to her and you let out a rough sigh as you reached for the drink that was placed in front of you.

Nancy turned back towards you, “Oh, sip your drink and forget about him already!” She said while downing half of her own drink and turning back to the handsome blonde to her left.

You rolled your eyes and took a big gulp of your drink hoping the alcohol would kick in soon, you couldn’t bare to be here sober for much longer but you wouldn’t leave Nancy alone with some random dude either.

You were staring into nothingness when the bartender placed another drink in front of you, you hadn’t even noticed you finished the first one.

“Don’t worry, this one is on the house.” He told you as he pushed the glass towards you. Even he could tell you didn’t want to be here, that something was clearly wrong and maybe that’s why he took pity on you.

You smiled and nodded at him as a thanks as you picked up the glass and took a few swigs. At this point Nancy had disappeared somewhere into the crowd with her new handsome hottie leaving you alone at the bar.

Your glass was empty again and it’s like the man behind the bar could read your mind because he was already fixing you another one.

You could feel your body become warmer and your mind become lighter. It felt good, at least for now, so you downed the rest of that drink too.

As your head began to buzz you intently watched the bartender pour another one for you when you suddenly felt the presence of someone to your right. Quickly your head snapped in that direction and your eyes landed on none other than Eddie.

He had sat down at the empty barstool next to you. “A-and what the helllll do you want?” you slurred your words.

Eddie chuckled, “That’s no way to greet an old friend Y/n.”

You scoffed at his response, “That’s what you consider yourself? An old friend? Maybe I wasn’t so far off.” You said the last thing under your breath while reaching for your fourth drink.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” You heard Eddie say as he grabbed the drink out for your hand, sitting it down out of your reach.

“What the hell?!” You snapped at him.

“I think you’ve had enough Y/n.”

Your brows snapped together as you stared at him in frustration, “Oh really? And what do you know?”

“I know that you were wrong, and I know that you get tipsy off two drinks. Four is going to have you feeling absolutely awful tomorrow.”

“Wrong about what?” You asked.

Eddie let out a loud sigh, “About her.”

You knew exactly what he meant but you didn’t dare to look at him. “I know.” you lightly whispered as you squeezed your eyes shut.

“What? What did you just say?”

You were really hoping he didn’t hear what just came out of your mouth, “Jesus Christ, I said I know okay?”

Eddie let out a breathy laugh, “Never thought I’d hear you say that.”

You rolled your eyes at his words, “Oh shut up, why did you even come over here?”

“Because I still care about you.” He said without hesitation.

“Well you shouldn’t. Not after what I said that night, honestly if I were you I’d hate me.” you admitted, not daring to look up in to those beautiful brown eyes.

“I could never hate you. I’ll admit after you walked out that night I was so pissed at you, but eventually my anger turned into something else.” He took another swig of his beer, “Heartbreak I guess.”

There it was, that familiar sting in your chest as soon as he uttered those words. You tried to fight back the tears that threatened to spill, you never wanted to hurt him and it killed you to know that you did.

You didn’t want to but you needed to. Quickly you got up from your chair and ran to the exit, you were in desperate need of some fresh air and didn’t exactly want to burst into tears in front of a full bar either.

As soon as you stepped outside you rounded the corner and emptied your stomach right in front of the bars dumpster. You couldn’t care less that you just puked up your guts behind the hideout because the sobs that were racking through your body were all you could focus on. You dropped to your knees, your head falling into your hands as you tried your hardest to calm your breathing.

A soft touch to your shoulder startled you and when you looked up you saw Eddie crouched down in front of you, those eyes you loved so much boring in to your own.

You felt his hand move from your shoulder to cup your cheek, “Hey, I’m sorry if I made you upset princess.”

Princess. That world alone out if his mouth is all it takes to makes you crumble and instantly your bursting into tears.

Right away Eddie is trying to console you, he’s rubbing your back and gently wiping the tears from your cheeks.

“S-stop.” you stifled out, softly grabbing his hands and placing them back onto his knees. “I-I don’t deserve this, you shouldn’t have to come out here and console me when I’m the one who hurt you. I-I’m so fucking sorry Eds.”

You squeezed your eyes shut preparing yourself for Eddie to get up and walk away or tell you off like you deserved, but that never came.

Instead you felt his soft fingers lift your chin up to look at him, “Open your eyes for me Y/n.” So you did, “You’re right, you did hurt me but I know you didn’t mean to.”

“W-what?”

He sighed before taking your hands back in his own, “Listen, just let me take you home get you sobered up and we’ll figure this out, okay?”

You nodded and let him help you to the van before driving off to Eddie’s.

The ride there was quiet aside from Van Halen playing over the radio and when you pulled up to the all to familiar trailer you couldn’t help but think of the many memories it held.

“Ready?” Eddie asked as he opened the passenger door extending you his hand that you took willingly.

He helped you inside and onto the couch while he went to grab you some water. You leaned back into the couch closing your eyes, your head spinning as you anxiously waited for Eddie.

You felt the sofa shift beside you and when you opened your eyes again Eddie was sitting there with a cold glass of water in his hand, “Here, drink this it’ll help.”

You nodded and took the glass from his hand before chugging the cold liquid.

Eddie couldn’t help but smile at how thirsty you must’ve been, “Better?” he asked and you nodded before setting the glass down on the coffee table.

“Eds?” you asked him in a soft voice as you turned to look at him.

“Hmm?” He replied, not taking his eyes off of your own.

“You said you knew I didn’t mean what I said that night b-but how did you know that?”

For the the third time this night Eddie reached for your hands and tightly held them in his, “Like I said, I was angry but then I thought about it more and I could see why you felt the way you did. I mean hell, if I saw you out in the woods secretly meeting with Carver I’d blow a fucking gasket. Not to mention Max telling you Chrissy was at my trailer, that must’ve hurt you too.”

“Y-yeah it did, but I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions like that. I shouldn’t have accused you of anything without knowing the details.” You confessed.

“Listen to me, I don’t blame you I probably would’ve reacted the same way. But I need you to know nothing was going on between Chrissy and I, she just wanted to buy some pills.” He told you, his thumbs softly rubbing up and down your hands.

“I know that now but I just— I can’t tell you how truly sorry I am. I’m so fucking in love with you and my insecurities cost me to lose the best thing to ever happen to me.” You told him as you eyes burned with tears.

Eddie gently pushed a strand of hair behind your ear and used his other hand to hold the back of your neck before pulling you into a long awaited kiss.

You pull away catching a glimpse of his enamored eyes before he’s kissing you again. That familiar taste of his lips made you realize you could never have enough. His hands are everywhere, up your back and through your hair and suddenly he’s kissing you harder, deeper, with a fervent urge.

You draw back from one another to catch a breath when Eddie gently takes your face into his hands, “You never lost me. I’m right here, I forgive you princess.”

Those were the only words you needed to hear before you practically threw yourself into his arms apologizing over and over again, and rambling about how much you love him.

Eddie let out a soft laugh as he shifted you to look at him, “I love you too, but baby you need to stop all that apologizing because right now I need to show you just how much I’ve missed you.”

and yall know where that’s gonna go, maybe I’ll do a pt.2 smut version.

[k2padfoot]

Finding Her

Draco x Y/n

summary: The Malfoy’s forbid you of pursing their son after years of a relationship with him. When the war broke out they wanted him as far away as possible from you and your unborn child. Months later Draco learns the truth.

warnings: tad bit of angst, crappy parents, hurt/comfort, fluff.

Rain was pouring down all around you as you raced towards your flat after a long day of work.

Your flat is on the second floor of the building so you made a run for it up the stairs and straight for your front door.

After rummaging through your work bag for your keys you finally unlocked the door and were startled to see Ginny Potter standing in your dimly lit living room.

It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary to see Ginny at your home, the Potter’s have been by your side through so much lately you truly have no idea where you’d be without them. Ginny had always been one of your best friends so when she found out you were about to be a single mother without a job she of course offered her help.

Harry and herself had set you up with an apartment 15 minutes from their home, Harry even got you a job at the Ministry to help with your bills. Ginny being an experienced mother already helped you in many ways to prepare for your child.

“Ginny? My God you almost gave me a heart attack.” you laughed as you sat your bags down and flipped on the kitchen lights.

“So what’s up?” you asked her as you rummaged through the fridge trying to find something to eat.

Ginny had already sat herself down at the breakfast bar across from where you stood, “I know we just saw each other this morning but I had to come quick because this couldn’t wait.”

Your head quickly spun around to face her, “What can’t wait?”

Ginny sighed roughly before continuing, “It’s Draco. He’s at our house—

“I’m sorry but did you just say Draco Malfoy is at your house?” you interrupted her.

“Well if you’d let me finish you would’ve heard the rest.” She said and you nodded at her to continue. “He came looking for you Y/n. He kept rambling about how he’s been back looking for you and that it’s driving him crazy not knowing where you’ve been.”

Your face went flush, “He’s been back?”

“I guess so, and he’s been spending all of his time looking for you. I won’t lie to you Y/n, he’s drunk right now and the only thing he keeps saying is how he needs you. I wouldn’t have came if it wasn’t necessary, he just doesn’t want anyone else but you and we can’t seem to help him no matter how hard we try.” Ginny did her best to explain.

You felt like you were going to break out in a cold sweat any second now, “I-I don’t where I’d start Ginny. He has zero clue about all of this.” you gestured to your pregnant belly, “And I haven’t seen him in over 5 months, what would I even say to him?”

“You don’t need to worry about that okay? Your showing just enough that we can still hide it with an oversized jumper and some sweatpants. All you need to focus on right now is speaking with Draco, I know you don’t want to but I think he needs you Y/n.” Ginny explained.

You exhaled sharply as you thought about the many possibilities of how this could go, “Alright, I’ll change and we’ll go.”

When you arrived at the Potter’s home your feet stayed planted to the ground before you. “Y/n are you coming?” Ginny asked as she opened her front door.

Feeling the bile crawl up your throat you hesitated for a moment, ���Y-yeah, yeah of course.” You bit your lip to hold back the bile in your mouth as you stepped into their home.

“Here let me take your coat and I’ll start us some tea.” Ginny told you as she shook your coat off of you and hurried away to the kitchen.

“Y/n? Oh I was really hoping you’d come.” Harry said to you as he exited the living room.

“Y-yeah. So where um, where is Draco?”

“He’s upstairs at the moment. I took him to our guest room hoping he’d sleep it off but that was only an hour ago, I bet he’s still awake up there.” Harry let you know.

You nodded at him before looking up at the dim lit stairwell and hesitantly making your ascend up the steps.

You stopped in front of the guest bedroom, you closed your eyes for a moment trying to prepare yourself to go in. You took a deep breath and turned the door knob which to your dismay revealed an intoxicated Draco Malfoy tossed in the sheets.

“Draco?” you whispered, “Draco are you awake?”

A barley conscious Draco jolted up from the bed, “Huh? Y-yeah I’m up what’s wro— Oh my god Y/n is that you?” He was shocked to see you standing before him nonetheless.

“Hi Draco.” you replied.

“W-what are you doing here?”

You moved closer to the end of the bed he was still sat in, “I came to see you. Ginny was over at my place earlier and she said I was needed here.”

You could see he looked ashamed, “Oh God, I’m so sorry Y/n she shouldn’t have bothered you with this.” Draco tried apologizing as he ran his hands through his messy blonde locks.

You sighed softly, “She didn’t bother me at all. She said you needed me, so here I am.”

He raised an eyebrow at you, “And you actually came?”

“Well yeah, I’m standing right here aren’t I?” you said, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

“I guess you’re right.” he agreed.

Your eyes narrowed in on the man before you, it had been far too long since you’ve seen that beautiful face. “So what’s going on Draco? Why’d you come looking for me now?”

“My mother told me everything.” He explained as your stomach turned.

“Sh-she did?”

“Yeah, she told me how she basically threatened your life. How her and my father made sure you were out of the picture, made sure I wasn’t able to love you.. or to love our unborn child.” Draco told you at the same time he wiped few tears away with his sleeve.

Your eyes went wide at his words, “So you know everything?”

“I do. She told me the entirety of it about two weeks ago and I’ve been looking for you ever since.”

Your heart dropped, “Draco I’m so—

“Don’t. Just- just hold on.” He was saying as he got out of bed, “I’m sorry I’m such a mess.” He apologized while attempting to fix his messy hair and unbuttoned shirt.

He stood before you staring at you in astonishment, “It’s amazing to see you Y/n.”

You smiled faintly at him feeling your cheeks heat up, “You too Draco.”

He exhaled slowly, “God Y/n, I thought you wanted nothing to do with me. I thought you had moved away and started a whole new life.” Draco told you as his eyes began to water once more.

You gasped at the idea of Draco thinking you didn’t want him. “Draco, I’m so sorry. I-I thought I had no choice but to stay away from you, if I would’ve just realized your parents were lying then may—

“Stop, don’t do that.” He interrupted taking a few steps closer, you could see his fist clenched at his side in an effort to stop himself from reaching out for you. “Please don’t try to blame yourself. I should’ve looked harder for you, I just can’t believe you were still here the entire time.”

You let out a deep breath, “I know, but you couldn’t have known the truth.”

Draco nodded as he looked at you once again, but this time really looked at you. “Y/n, y-your belly it’s so, so—

“Pregnant?” you joked.

“Well yes but you are absolutely glowing. I just can’t believe that’s my baby in there.” Draco nervously said.

“Yes, yes he is.”

Draco’s mouth went wide, “Did you just say he?”

You could feel your heart flutter at his excitement. “I did.” you assured him.

“Oh. My. God. Wow, I-I have a son?” Tears brimmed at his eyes as he grinned ear to ear.

You nodded back at Draco, “I was thinking of naming him Scorpius.”

“Y-you remembered?” He could barley say between soft sniffles.

You smiled to yourself, “Of course I did. I just know he’s going to have your gorgeous blue eyes.”

Draco slowly approached you with caution until he saw that look in your eyes, the one that told him he never even had to ask your permission in the first place.

Gently he placed his hands on your belly softly caressing the womb that protected his son. “So perfect.” He whispered. “I can’t wait to meet you.” Draco told the little boy you were carrying.

Without warning his tender hands moved from your stomach to around your waist. Draco pulled you in close kissing you like it was yesterday. It was an intense kiss that made your entire body warm, his lips moved against yours like lightning and you were lost in him once again.

You both finally pulled away from each other to catch a breath when Draco gently cradled your face in his hands, “I love you, and before you say anything you don’t have to say it back. I just need you to know that okay? I need you to know that I love you and I’ve never stopped. I will never ever stop loving you and our son.”

You placed your hands on top of his own, “Well I do have something to say.” You told him as Draco could feel his palms turning clammy and his pulse race against time.

“I love you too.” you said with a beaming grin that Draco immediately reciprocated.

Without warning Draco had swooped you up into his arms and carried you to the bed, gently placing you on it.

You laid back against the sheets as Draco stared at you from above. “My beautiful, beautiful girl.” Draco kept repeating as he softly caressed your face. “My perfect girl carrying our perfect baby.” Draco cooed, his hands gently rubbing your belly now.

Watching Draco in awe of you and the baby you created together brought tears to your eyes that you just couldn’t help but let fall.

You smiled through soft sniffles and tears as you observed him only for Draco to notice you as well. “Y/n/n? Baby what’s wrong? Did I do something to upset you?”

“N-no, no of course not” you tried to tell him between soft cries. “I’m happy Draco, I promise these are just the happy tears.” you smiled through them.

Draco let out a soft giggle, “Good, because I am going to do everything in my power to keep you and our boy happy, to keep our beautiful family safe. I adore you Y/n and I am just so beyond grateful I finally found you.”

“Me too Dray, me too.” You smiled at him.

[k2padfoot]

I’m posting this rn as motivation to finish this. I know it can be good and it’s going so good so fingers crossed I don’t get writers block for the 900th time😩

potential new Draco Malfoy fic snippet:

[k2padfoot]

@avalentina thx for the tag❤️

Idk how i’m going to pick 5 but here goes!

In no particular order except maybe for Draco:

• Draco L. Malfoy (Harry Potter)

• Stiles Stilinski (Teen Wolf)

• Kiara Carrera (Outer Banks)

• Spencer Reid (Criminal Minds)

• Fiona Gallagher (Shameless)

No pressure tags: @luveline @rainylana @dr4cking 🖤

Five Comfort Characters, Five Tags

thank you @moonlightazriel ❤️

1) Elain Archeron (acotar)

2) Luna Lovegood (harry potter)

3) Lucien Vanserra (acotar)

4) Wylan Van Eck (six of crows)

5) Neville Longbottom (harry potter)

tagging (no pressure): @lulling-night-sky @autumndreaming7 @sunshinebingo @iambutmortal @brekkershadowsinger ☺️

[k2padfoot]

hi! do you write smut for jj maybank?

hi! so i have yet to write any smut but i would be up to the challenge! if you have any suggestions just lmk pls (:

[k2padfoot]

a little update:

to everyone who responded to my last post thank you sm!! i am currently focusing my attention on imagine number 1 right now but for all of you who voted 3 that will be coming right after! hopefully i can get this finished & posted for you all soon ♡