❝ is it romantic how all my elegies eulogise me ? ❞
bubbles — she/her . twenty four . leo . sad girl . drew starkey's baby . folklore girlie . moon child . alexa demie’s wife . escaping realities one post at a time .
CONTENT. mentions of drug use. rafe cameron being a chaotic coke head (as per usual). pls listen to party 4 u by charli xcx while reading <3
speakers pulse with bass, rattling through your chest like it wants to crush your ribs. purple and red lights strobe across the room, bouncing off sweat slicked skin. the air smells like alcohol, perfume, and something sharper — something that makes rafe’s movements faster, wilder, sharper. he’s already nose deep in the coke, line after line, and it shows. the grin on his face is electric, manic, impossible to ignore. you should feel proud. after all, this was your idea. his birthday. your planning. the playlist, the drinks, the chaos — all arranged so rafe could float through the night with a smile stretched wide.
and he does.
he’s in the middle of it all, the life of the party. his shirt sticks to his back, hair messy, energy teetering on dangerous yet somehow still radiant. laughter and shouts orbit him like satellites. sofia clings to his arm, her dress glittering under the strobing lights, her movements reckless and fluid. he spins her with ease, and the sight of it makes your stomach twist.
lines of coke blur into memory, already fueling his hyperdrive — hands everywhere, movements fast, chaotic, untamed.
you hover at the edge, a warm cup in your hand you haven’t touched in what feels like hours, though realistically it’s only been a couple of minutes. the music is a wave, loud enough to drown out thought, yet still muffled at your corners. you watch rafe — the way he moves, the way he draws chaos like a magnet, and the way sofia melts into him. his energy is a storm, irresistible and terrifying, and you feel yourself shrinking into stillness.
someone slams past, a bottle tips, laughter cuts like a knife. you blink and rafe is everywhere at once, tossing his head back, yelling something incomprehensible, hands flying. this may have been his party, but you arranged it. crafted it. stitched it together so he’d feel like the king of his world. and yet, here you are — a ghost in the margins.
your vision tunnels. people blur into a riot of watercolour, lights smeared pink, blue, green. you feel your body stiffen, a spectator in your own creation, while your mind drifts above the chaos. dissociation. two selves: one clutching a forgotten cup, one floating above the storm, untouchable, hollow.
rafe snatches sofia, spins her into him. her head falls back, laughter spilling over, unrestrained. he leans close, whispers something no one can hear but her. something coils inside you — tight and sharp.
you don’t cry. you don’t flee. you just stand there, empty and buzzing as the room erupts around you. the song vibrates through your bones; slower, heavier, echoing in the space where you should be celebrating.
you made this. you made this night for him. you gave him this chaos. and still, all you can do is watch, caught outside the orbit of everything he is tonight.
so hiii ! it's been a while. i've had this sitting in my drafts (originally as a drew starkey piece) but i switched it around. i'm not suuuper happy with this, but i feel like i need to post it anyway to get back into this !
if you enjoyed it, please consider leaving a like, reblog, and/or comment ! i always appreciate the support xx
i just want to apologise for not being around the last couple of weeks. i’ve seemed to hit a wall and i’ve just been feeling really bleh lately. life seems to be catching up on me but it’ll all be okay !
i appreciate all your support and i love you guys endlessly. i promise i’ll be back soon !!
CONTENT. smut. minors dni. oral (f!receiving). unprotected p in v. reader is ovulating & rafe’s breeding kink goes crazie. light possessive behaviour. fluff at the end. don’t judge my choice of title 😌 requested.
you’d been restless all day.
maybe it was the heat. maybe it was the fact that your cycle app had sent a stupid little notification this morning — one that said, “today is the most likely day to conceive in your cycle,” like it wasn’t about to wreck you emotionally and hormonally for the next twenty-four hours.
or maybe it was the way rafe looked when he pulled into the driveway.
sweaty. dusty. arm slung out the window of that damn new silverado, sunglasses resting on top of his head, shirt clinging to his chest and biceps like it was painted on. you’d barely blinked before his eyes were locked on yours, spotting you instantly through the window — watching him like you were starving.
when he walked through the front door, he barely got a breath out before pausing. his gaze swept over you slowly, carefully, eyes narrowing just a little.
“how you feelin’ today, baby?”
you shrugged, trying to keep it casual. “fine.”
but your voice was thin. tight. like you were holding your breath.
rafe tilted his head, stepping forward. slow. intentional. “how long you been ovulatin’?”
your mouth opened, then closed. no answer.
he kept coming until your back hit the edge of the kitchen table, his presence towering over you, his voice soft but low. “i could tell the second i walked in. you’re flushed. breathing fast. shakin’ a little.”
“maybe it’s the heat,” you whispered.
rafe huffed a quiet laugh, and it was so damn cocky.
“nah, it’s me.”
his hands slid up beneath your shirt — rough, calloused fingers dragging across your skin like he already owned it. and maybe he did. “you’re ovulatin’, and your body knows exactly who it wants.”
you flushed hotter. “rafe—”
he lifted your chin gently, thumb stroking over your jaw, watching your lashes flutter.
“don’t get shy on me now. you think i don’t notice? you get real soft around this time. real needy. can’t keep your hands off me for more than ten minutes.”
you wanted to argue, but then he leaned down and kissed just below your ear — voice low and smug and sinful.
“can’t lie. i’ve been thinking about it all damn day. couldn’t focus on the job site. just kept picturing you laid out right here, beggin’ me to fill you up.”
you whimpered. full-on whimpered.
“rafe—”
“i’m gonna take my time,” he murmured, hand trailing down your waist. “get you all worked up. let you beg a little. then i’m gonna fuck you so full your body won’t have a choice but to give me a baby.”
your thighs clenched involuntarily — and he saw it. smirked like the devil.
“you want that? want me to fuck you stupid? put a baby in you right here on this table i built with my own hands?”
“yes,” you breathed. “god, yes—”
that was all it took.
he gripped your thighs and lifted you onto the table like you weighed nothing. one hand slipped beneath your waistband, fingers sliding through soaked cotton.
“goddamn,” he whispered, voice hoarse. “you’re drippin’ for me already. fuck. you need me.”
you nodded frantically, barely able to breathe.
he tugged your shorts off, shoved your shirt up just enough to see the swell of your chest, and dropped to his knees like it was the most natural thing in the world.
his mouth met your inner thighs first, lips hot against your skin, then lower — tongue sliding over your cunt in slow, devastating circles. you were already squirming, moaning, grinding into his mouth with soft cries that made his hands grip tighter.
“sweetest fuckin’ thing i’ve ever tasted,” he groaned, the sound almost pained. “gonna make me feral, baby.”
but before you could reach the edge, he pulled back — stood, eyes blown wide as he shoved his jeans down just far enough, then dragged you to the edge of the table.
and then he was there.
thick, hot, stretching you with slow, perfect pressure until he bottomed out, groaning low in your ear.
“this pussy was made for me,” he panted, hand splaying across your belly. “squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight. god, baby — you’re ready for it, aren’t you?”
you could only nod, the words lost somewhere in the heat.
he set a rhythm that was brutal in the best way — deep, relentless, every stroke dragging something desperate from your throat. his hand pressed down on your stomach, voice dropping again.
“feel that?” he growled. “that’s me. right where i’m supposed to be.”
you whimpered, thighs trembling.
“y’know what gets me off?” he rasped, kissing along your jaw. “thinkin’ about how your body’s beggin’ for this. how it gets soft and fertile and wet just for me. every month.”
you gasped, nails digging into his shoulders, tears brimming in your eyes from the intensity.
“you want a baby, sweet girl?” he asked, voice wrecked. “want me to knock you up right here?”
“please,” you whispered, already right on the edge. “please, rafe—”
his rhythm stuttered. then his hand slid between you, thumb finding your clit in perfect, practiced circles until you clenched around him, coming hard — moaning his name, back arched, body shaking.
rafe followed with a low, broken groan, hips jerking forward one final time as he spilled inside you, burying himself deep, like he was trying to plant the promise of forever in you.
the room was quiet except for your breathing. his hands were still on you, still holding you close, chest rising and falling against yours.
he kissed your forehead softly. then your cheek. then your shoulder.
“you okay, baby?” he whispered.
you nodded, still floating, still glowing. “more than okay.”
he helped ease you off the table, gently guiding your legs around his waist as he carried you to the couch like you were something fragile. you curled into his lap, head tucked under his chin, the warmth of him wrapped all around you.
“sorry i was kinda… insane,” he murmured against your hair, voice sheepish. “you just— i see you like that, all soft and needin’ me, and it scrambles my fuckin’ brain.”
you smiled against his chest. “i like you insane.”
he chuckled. “yeah?”
“mhm. you’re sweet when you’re feral.”
you felt his hand settle on your belly again, thumb brushing slow strokes across your skin.
“you think it worked?” he asked quietly.
“i don’t know.” you looked up at him. “you want it to?”
he didn’t hesitate. “i want you. all of it. whenever you’re ready.”
and that made your heart squeeze.
i had too much fun writing this (and i only got the request like an hour ago)
if you enjoyed it, please consider leaving a like, reblog, and/or comment ! i always appreciate the support 🤍
CONTENT. smut. minors dni. oral (f!receiving). unprotected p in v. reader is ovulating & rafe’s breeding kink goes crazie. light possessive behaviour. fluff at the end. don’t judge my choice of title 😌 requested.
you’d been restless all day.
maybe it was the heat. maybe it was the fact that your cycle app had sent a stupid little notification this morning — one that said, “today is the most likely day to conceive in your cycle,” like it wasn’t about to wreck you emotionally and hormonally for the next twenty-four hours.
or maybe it was the way rafe looked when he pulled into the driveway.
sweaty. dusty. arm slung out the window of that damn new silverado, sunglasses resting on top of his head, shirt clinging to his chest and biceps like it was painted on. you’d barely blinked before his eyes were locked on yours, spotting you instantly through the window — watching him like you were starving.
when he walked through the front door, he barely got a breath out before pausing. his gaze swept over you slowly, carefully, eyes narrowing just a little.
“how you feelin’ today, baby?”
you shrugged, trying to keep it casual. “fine.”
but your voice was thin. tight. like you were holding your breath.
rafe tilted his head, stepping forward. slow. intentional. “how long you been ovulatin’?”
your mouth opened, then closed. no answer.
he kept coming until your back hit the edge of the kitchen table, his presence towering over you, his voice soft but low. “i could tell the second i walked in. you’re flushed. breathing fast. shakin’ a little.”
“maybe it’s the heat,” you whispered.
rafe huffed a quiet laugh, and it was so damn cocky.
“nah, it’s me.”
his hands slid up beneath your shirt — rough, calloused fingers dragging across your skin like he already owned it. and maybe he did. “you’re ovulatin’, and your body knows exactly who it wants.”
you flushed hotter. “rafe—”
he lifted your chin gently, thumb stroking over your jaw, watching your lashes flutter.
“don’t get shy on me now. you think i don’t notice? you get real soft around this time. real needy. can’t keep your hands off me for more than ten minutes.”
you wanted to argue, but then he leaned down and kissed just below your ear — voice low and smug and sinful.
“can’t lie. i’ve been thinking about it all damn day. couldn’t focus on the job site. just kept picturing you laid out right here, beggin’ me to fill you up.”
you whimpered. full-on whimpered.
“rafe—”
“i’m gonna take my time,” he murmured, hand trailing down your waist. “get you all worked up. let you beg a little. then i’m gonna fuck you so full your body won’t have a choice but to give me a baby.”
your thighs clenched involuntarily — and he saw it. smirked like the devil.
“you want that? want me to fuck you stupid? put a baby in you right here on this table i built with my own hands?”
“yes,” you breathed. “god, yes—”
that was all it took.
he gripped your thighs and lifted you onto the table like you weighed nothing. one hand slipped beneath your waistband, fingers sliding through soaked cotton.
“goddamn,” he whispered, voice hoarse. “you’re drippin’ for me already. fuck. you need me.”
you nodded frantically, barely able to breathe.
he tugged your shorts off, shoved your shirt up just enough to see the swell of your chest, and dropped to his knees like it was the most natural thing in the world.
his mouth met your inner thighs first, lips hot against your skin, then lower — tongue sliding over your cunt in slow, devastating circles. you were already squirming, moaning, grinding into his mouth with soft cries that made his hands grip tighter.
“sweetest fuckin’ thing i’ve ever tasted,” he groaned, the sound almost pained. “gonna make me feral, baby.”
but before you could reach the edge, he pulled back — stood, eyes blown wide as he shoved his jeans down just far enough, then dragged you to the edge of the table.
and then he was there.
thick, hot, stretching you with slow, perfect pressure until he bottomed out, groaning low in your ear.
“this pussy was made for me,” he panted, hand splaying across your belly. “squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight. god, baby — you’re ready for it, aren’t you?”
you could only nod, the words lost somewhere in the heat.
he set a rhythm that was brutal in the best way — deep, relentless, every stroke dragging something desperate from your throat. his hand pressed down on your stomach, voice dropping again.
“feel that?” he growled. “that’s me. right where i’m supposed to be.”
you whimpered, thighs trembling.
“y’know what gets me off?” he rasped, kissing along your jaw. “thinkin’ about how your body’s beggin’ for this. how it gets soft and fertile and wet just for me. every month.”
you gasped, nails digging into his shoulders, tears brimming in your eyes from the intensity.
“you want a baby, sweet girl?” he asked, voice wrecked. “want me to knock you up right here?”
“please,” you whispered, already right on the edge. “please, rafe—”
his rhythm stuttered. then his hand slid between you, thumb finding your clit in perfect, practiced circles until you clenched around him, coming hard — moaning his name, back arched, body shaking.
rafe followed with a low, broken groan, hips jerking forward one final time as he spilled inside you, burying himself deep, like he was trying to plant the promise of forever in you.
the room was quiet except for your breathing. his hands were still on you, still holding you close, chest rising and falling against yours.
he kissed your forehead softly. then your cheek. then your shoulder.
“you okay, baby?” he whispered.
you nodded, still floating, still glowing. “more than okay.”
he helped ease you off the table, gently guiding your legs around his waist as he carried you to the couch like you were something fragile. you curled into his lap, head tucked under his chin, the warmth of him wrapped all around you.
“sorry i was kinda… insane,” he murmured against your hair, voice sheepish. “you just— i see you like that, all soft and needin’ me, and it scrambles my fuckin’ brain.”
you smiled against his chest. “i like you insane.”
he chuckled. “yeah?”
“mhm. you’re sweet when you’re feral.”
you felt his hand settle on your belly again, thumb brushing slow strokes across your skin.
“you think it worked?” he asked quietly.
“i don’t know.” you looked up at him. “you want it to?”
he didn’t hesitate. “i want you. all of it. whenever you’re ready.”
and that made your heart squeeze.
i had too much fun writing this (and i only got the request like an hour ago)
if you enjoyed it, please consider leaving a like, reblog, and/or comment ! i always appreciate the support 🤍
PAIRING. carpenter!rafe x reader
CONTENT. smut. minors dni. rafe's smug asf. breeding kink. car sex. rafe worked his ass off to get what he deserves.
you heard it before you saw it.
a low, purring engine you didn’t recognize pulling into the driveway— smooth, deep, new. not the familiar rattle of the old f150 you could hear from three blocks away. this was different.
you wiped your hands on a dish towel and peeked out the window, brows furrowing.
thats when you saw it.
a brand new chevy silverado— black as night, polished to a shine. the kind of truck that turned heads without even trying.
and stepping out of it, covered in sawdust and sweat from a long day on site, was rafe cameron. grinning like the cat who caught the damn canary.
you were already at the front door when he came around the front of the truck, keys dangling from his fingers like a trophy.
“well?” he said, trying to play it cool. “what do you think?”
you stepped out onto the porch and gave him a once over— your man. your hard working, stubborn, sunburnt man. standing there, next to something he’d dreamed about for years.
“i think,” you said slowly, arms crossing, “that i’ve never seen anyone look so smug in their life.”
he laughed, pulling you in by the waist. “i think i earned a little smug.”
you tipped your chin up, pretending to think for a moment. “how many years did that ford hold on?”
“too many,” he groaned. “i swear i was pushin’ it more than i was driving it in the end.”
“hey— that car is apart of our—”
“history, i know— i know,” he laughed, shaking his head for a moment, arms still wrapped around you. you just smiled, tucking your hands under the back of his shirt just to feel the warmth of his back.
“look at you now. new truck, owning your own business. big life.”
rafe’s eyes softened. “yeah, big life. all because of you.”
you rolled your eyes. “rafe—”
“i’m serious,” he said, voice quiet now. “you were there when i couldn’t even afford new work boots. when i was just some kid driving a beat up truck and borrowing tools.”
you kissed his jaw, soft and gentle. “and i’d still be proud of you if that’s all we ever had.”
he leaned his forehead against yours, exhaling slowly. “i know, and i’m forever grateful. but it ain’t anymore.”
then, with that familiar spark in his eye, he grabbed your hand and led you toward the truck. “come on, gotta give you the full tour.”
you laughed as he opened the passenger door, helping you in like it was the first date all over again, and climbed into the driver’s seat beside you.
he looked over, smiling. one of those soft, stupid, i’m so in love ones, and said: “fits us nice, huh?”
you reached across, laced your fingers through his and nodded.
“yeah,” you whispered. “real nice.”
by the time he had pulled back out of the driveway, he had one hand on the wheel, the other now resting comfortably on your thigh— thumb rubbing little circles just beneath the hem of your shorts. the windows were rolled down, and his favourite country playlist humming low through the speakers.
you were leaned back in the seat, watching him drive like he was king of the whole damn town, grinning to yourself at how good he looked. fresh home from work, still smelling like sawdust and wood varnish. his shirt stretched snuggly across his chest, arms golden from hours spent in the sun.
and smug. so smug.
“you know,” he said, flicking his turn signal on, “i could definitely fit a car seat back there.”
you turned your head slowly. “what?”
he glanced at you, all faux innocence, but the corners of his mouth twitched. “just saying. it’s got space. roomy, safe. suspension’s smooth, too.”
you raised a brow at him. “rafe, we’re going to get tacos. not picking out strollers.”
“yet,” he added, squeezing your thigh a little harder. “but, i mean, wouldn’t take much. would it?”
you snorted, shaking your head. “oh my god.”
he kept talking, eyes still on the road, voice dropping just enough to make your stomach twist.
“can picture it. little girl with your eyes, or a boy who gives me hell like you do. tiny boots. comin’ home to his mama after spending all day in the workshop with me.”
your breath caught, and he noticed— of course he noticed. he just smirked, turning onto the open stretch of dusty road just outside of town.
“you’d look good pregnant,” he murmured. “all round and soft and sweet. could keep you home, spoil you rotten, make sure you never lift a damn finger.”
you swallowed hard, but your tone stayed light. “you always this subtle when your horny, or is it a new truck thing?”
rafe laughed, full and warm, his hand sliding a little higher up your leg. “baby, i’ve been thinking about filling you up since i first picked you up in my old ford. now i've just got better shocks and more leg room.”
you nearly choked.
“rafe—”
“just lettin’ you know,” he shrugged. “i built us a life. just need you to let me make it bigger.” he finally glanced over at you, saw your flushed cheeks, and bit back a grin. “we can still get tacos first,” he offered, clearly enjoying your reaction. “but after that… maybe you let me put the truck to work.”
you didn’t even make it to the taco place.
at least, not first.
because ten minutes down that dusty back road with the sun dipping low in the sky, rafe had pulled over just outside the tree line— right where the pines got thick and the air smelled like summer and dust and honeysuckle.
the truck idled in park, engine still humming low beneath you as he turned in his seat, hand trailing up your bare thigh.
“you alright?” he asked, voice low, thumb brushing the hem of your shorts with just enough pressure to make you shift in your seat.
you nodded, already breathless, squirming underneath his touch. “mhm.”
“good,” he said, leaning over the console to press his mouth to yours, slow and steady and confident. that familiar weight of him, all hard muscle and warm skin, sinking into you like he belonged there. “been thinkin’ about this since i signed the damn papers.”
you gasped softly when his hand slid higher, fingers curling under the waistband of your shorts, teasing— testing.
“rafe— someone could drive by,” you whispered, thought it came out more like a whine, even as your knees parted slightly beneath his palm.
he chuckled against your mouth, cocky and breathless, lips dragging down your jaw. “baby,” he murmured. “ain’t no one coming out here but deers and ghosts. and neither of them give a damn if i’ve got you whining in the front seat of my brand new truck.”
you couldn’t help it— you tugged at his shirt, dragging him closer, heart thudding in your chest.
“i want you,” you whispered, already breathless and dizzy. “i want you so bad.”
that’s all it took.
he groaned, deep in his throat, and pulled you across the console in one quick, practiced motion, settling you into his lap like he’d been thinking about this exact moment for days. your thighs straddled his, hands clutching at his shoulders as he kissed you harder, deeper— his fingers fumbling with the button of your shorts.
“been dreamin’ about this,” he murmured against your neck. “my girl ridin’ me in my truck. always said it’d be you, didn’t i?”
you nodded, head thrown back, hips already rolling against the growing bulge in his jeans.
“tell me you want my baby,” he rasped suddenly, the words hitting you like a freight train. “tell me you want me to fill you up. right here. in this truck i worked my goddamn ass off to buy for us.”
you could feel the way rafe's hands moved to unbutton his own jeans, pulling his cock from its confines, thick and heavy against his stomach. and that had you whining.
“i want it, rafe. i want your baby. i want all of it.”
that’s when he lifted you, pushing inside of you— hot, deep, perfect —and you swore the whole truck shook from the force of your moan.
his head fell back against the seat, jaw clenched, hands bruising your hips as he thrust up into you, slow and hard. the windows fogged fast, air filling with the sounds of skin and breath and soft curses. the leather creaking softly beneath you.
and rafe— god, rafe —was everywhere. mouth on your shoulder, voice rasping mine over and over again, whispering promises about forever and family and filling you up until it sticks.
it was hot, it was messy, and it was real.
and when you finally came— writhing in his lap, breath caught on his name like a prayer, he wasn’t far behind, burying his face into your neck with a strangled groan as he followed you over the edge.
silence fell heavy afterward; thick and warm and full of something golden.
you collapsed against him, still straddling his lap, both of you slick with sweat and panting like you had just ran for miles.
he smoothed a hand down your spine, kissing your temple.
“so, tacos?” he asked, voice hoarse and smug.
you smacked his chest, but you were already smiling.
if you enjoyed, please consider giving a like, reblog, and/or comment ! i always appreciate your support <3
Hi!!! I’m the one who asked for the continuation to Rafe saying some not so nice things to witchy!reader. First of all don’t apologize for taking a while to respond, take your time when writing and remember to take lots of self care breaks!! Second of all, thank you so much for responding to my request, part 2 was so good!! Honestly I love your writing so much, thank you so much for giving us more Rafe x witchy!reader!! 💚
angel ur so sweet 😭 thank u for ur lovely message i love u lots 🖤
Hi!! I was wondering if you could do a continuation to rafe saying some not so nice things about witchy!reader, like does he apologize to her or just avoid talking about it?? Thank you 💚
hi angel !!
this has been posted !! ( sorry it took so long to get to ! )
PAIRING. rafe cameron x witchy!reader
CONTENT. part 2 to this piece here. requested.
it was quieter at the edge of the boneyard.
the party still pulsed faintly behind rafe. muffled laughter, distant music, someone yelling about beer pong. but out here, it didn’t matter. not where the trees met the perimeter, stretching tall above him. however, he couldn’t help but notice how guilt seemed to surround him.
rafe ran a hand down his face, fingers dragging slow and rough. his knuckles stung like he had hit someone, or something, but he hadn’t— just clenched them too tight.
he didn’t know where you had gone. only that you’d left without looking back. without a single word. and that silence had followed him like a shadow all night.
so he walked. past the fire, past the drunken bodies and empty bottles, down the slope towards where the woods began. something told him you’d be here— because this is where you always went when things got too loud.
and maybe, selfishly, he hoped that some invisible thread might still pull him to you.
and then, he saw you.
you were sitting on a fallen log, arms wrapped loosely around your knees, eyes lifted towards the trees like they could give you answers no one else could. the moonlight filtered through the leaves above you, soft and silver. you looked like you belonged there; like the forest was yours and he was trespassing.
you didn’t look at him when he stepped closer.
“i wasn’t gonna come,” he said quietly, hands shoved deep in his pockets. “figured you didn’t wanna see me.”
you didn’t say anything.
he shifted on his feet, the silence stretching. “but i— fuck, i couldn’t stop thinking about it. about what i said.”
still, nothing.
rafe let out a breath, rough. “you weren’t supposed to hear it.”
you turned slowly then, finally meeting his gaze. “but you still meant it,” you said quietly, voice steady.
rafe flinched. because yeah— that was the part that gutted him.
“no,” he said quickly. “i didn’t— i mean, i didn’t mean it like that. i was just— i don’t know. i was trying to act like it didn’t matter. like you didn’t matter.”
you blinked, jaw tight. “why?”
his mouth opened, then shut. he didn’t have a good answer. not one that made him sound anything but weak.
“i think you scare me,” he said finally.
that got your attention, causing you to frown. “what?”
“you’re not like anyone else i know. you’re not trying to impress anyone. you don’t care what people think. you— you talk to trees and you wear converse that definitely need replacing and you actually feel shit. and when i’m around you, it’s like—like something shifts. like i start thinking about things i’ve spent years trying not to.
you stare at him, expression unreadable.
“i said all that stuff because i was trying to kill it before it got too real,” he admitted, voice low. “before you got close enough for me to hurt you.”
you looked away, arms hugging tighter around yourself. “you already did, rafe.”
rafe stepped forward, slow and cautious. “i know. and i don’t expect you to forgive me. but i needed to tell you i’m sorry. for the names, the jokes. for making you feel small when all i’ve ever really wanted was to be near you.” he hesitated slightly before continuing. “i know i don’t deserve your trust, but i want to try and fix it. iff you’ll let me.”
the wind rustled through the trees, and for a while, that was the only sound.
then— softly, barely above a whisper —you spoke. “you made me feel like i was a joke, rafe. like everything i am is laughable. i don’t forget things like that.”
he nodded, chest heavy. “i know.”
“but,” you added slowly, standing up from your place on that fallen log. “you came out here. and you didn’t bring your mask with you.”
you looked at him, really looked, and something softened in your expression. not forgiveness. not yet. but maybe the tiniest thread of something else.
“i don’t know what this is. or what you want,” you murmured. “but… i don’t want to walk away from it either.”
rafe stepped closer again, and this time, you didn’t move away.
“i don’t want to lose whatever this is, between us.”
you smiled, faint but real. “then don’t.”
and for the first time all night, the air around you felt a little less heavy. like maybe the forest had heard. like maybe it was rooting for you too
if you enjoyed this, please don't forgive to give it a like, reblog, and/or comment ! i always appreciate the support
