I just wanted to do some kind of post to pin to the top of my blog.
Hi, my name is Louise, you can call me Lou and I am here too mostly read but of course, anything can happen.
I read and interact mostly with OBX stuff but have been a professional fangirl forever, so I love many other fandoms too. But OBX and especially Drew Starkey is a current obsession. I love to reblog fics with comments bc I believe that the writers on here deserve the world and I contribute by hyping them up with reblogs and positive comments ❤️
Some facts about me:
I am 27 years old, born 1997
I am a Scorpio ♏️
My birthday is 4th of November (same as the legendary Drew Starkey)
I am from Sweden 🇸🇪
I have been reading fan fiction since like 2012 and I still love it!
My favorite color is Green 💚.
I am a pharmacist 💊
Blog recs:
See here
Always feel free to reach out, I am pretty open and I love to interact with people. Ask me anything really!!
My main blog on Tumblr is DreamingWithLouise so there is where the follow or like or comment will be from haha <3
sports reporter, y/n edwards, has the opportunity of a lifetime - interviewing nascar driver, rafe cameron. But, it may be a little bit more than she bargained for.
✯ warnings:
rafe is a sexy cocky bitch, reader is a queen, sexual innuendos, eventual smut, mature themes, rafe low key is a bitch, etc.
✯ a/n:
nothing!! please don't engage if you have a hard time with any of these topics <3 this was origianlly posted on my old blog @/illicitfixations, @/lovelornanonymity back in 2021/2022 and i have rewritten + reshared it here :)
You kept thinking about Rafe after your initial interaction, but you weren’t going to let him know that and you weren’t going to go running back to your bosses crying about a boy being mean to you and refusing to interview him. Racing was already a predominantly male driven sport and that didn’t leave a lot of room for you at the table, but you had worked hard and become someone that every household recognized, they called you one of Nascar's leading women now and you were damn proud of that. You weren’t going to let some meat head race car driver convince you that you weren’t something special, even if he was beautiful and chiseled in all the right places and a leader on the track. Nope. You couldn’t go there. As dreamy as he was, he had ruined any amount of respect you’d initially had for him, simply by opening his mouth. You were brought out of your thoughts as your phone chirped, Alex’s name littering across the screen.
Green onion. Tonight 9pm.
You giggled at the text, knowing that she wouldn’t take no for an answer before you sent your reply.
Only if you wear something sexy ;)
Bitch, get real.
Her reply came with a quickness, just as you had expected and you giggled, knowing that Alex was always wearing something sexy and always, always going to look good in a bar on a friday night. You wished you could be more confident and carefree like she was.
-
Nine o’clock came quickly. You had wasted most of the day going over the stats of every driver in preparation for tomorrow’s race. By your account, Rafe was set to win tomorrow and Topper would probably come second or third. You liked those odds. Though, deep down if Rafe wasn’t as good of a driver, you might find him less sexy, which would be a good thing. You got up from your desk at 8:45pm, living close to downtown had its perks and not having to leave early for things was one of them. You dressed quickly in a black lacy tank top and low-rise jeans, curling your hair and throwing on a little bit of makeup before grabbing your purse and keys and heading out the door.
By the time you got to the bar, Alex was already about five drinks deep, as you’d expected. She always pre-gamed a little too hard, even when you were in college. You found her on top of a barstool drooling over a questionable looking man as he tucked her long black hair behind her ears.
“Mind if I cut in?”
You asked and she leapt up, squealing and pulling you in for a hug.
“It’s about time you got here, this guy is boring!”
She exclaimed.
“Alex, honey, be nice.”
You chastised her, though doing so in her drunken state you knew was a waste of time.
“Sorry.”
You mouthed to him and he just smiled and walked away, leaving you to tend to her antics by yourself.
“Wanna dance!”
She exclaimed in your ear and you merely nodded, grabbing her hand and pulling her to the dance floor. You danced for a brief moment, the dim light of the bar and the combination of the dj’s uplights created a feeling of ecstasy amidst the drinks that men in the bar kept supplying the two of you with. You continued to grind against Alex for about thirty minutes, the music bumping so violently that you could feel it under your feet. You walked out of the crowd and back to the bar for another drink when you ran into someone familiar.
“Hey, y/n.”
Topper said with a smile and you returned the gesture.
“Hi, Top. Who’re your friends?”
You questioned and he introduced them one by one.
“Guys – this is Nascar's leading lady, y/n.”
You blushed at Topper’s compliment. For a driver, he wasn’t half bad, he was even sweet to you most of the time.
“Y/n – this is Kyle, Corbin, Zack, and Rafe.”
You hadn’t even registered that the Rafe Topper was referring to was the same Rafe that you were trying so desperately to forget. Though, you probably should have; what kind of name is Rafe anyways? You remained polite as each boy said hello to you, returning the pleasantries and as your eyes met his, you swallowed thickly. He smiled that same shit eating grin and you pretended you didn’t know who he was. That’s what any self-respecting person would do in this situation, right?
“Nice to meet you guys!”
You exclaimed, tipping the drink in your hand and they returned the gesture, tipping their’s right back in your direction.
“So, Nascar’s leading lady, huh? How’d you wind up, racing?”
The one who’d introduced himself as Corbin asked and you giggled.
“Oh, I’m not a driver! I enjoyed it a long time ago – my dad got me into it. But, I’m a sport’s reporter now, so I report on just about all of you.”
At your revelation, Rafe almost spit out his drink, suddenly realizing who exactly you were and why you had probably made your way up to his garage the other night. Why had he made that stupid joke?
“Anyways, Top, I’m here with Alex so I better get back to her. I’ll see you tomorrow though.”
You said in a sweet sing-song voice before bringing him in for a hug.
“Alright, call me if you need anything.”
He said, rubbing the back of your hair. You nodded in response before pulling away and heading back to the dance floor where ALex was grinding on the man she had earlier been flirting with. Topper’s eyes lingered on your figure, making sure you got from point A to point B before tearing his eyes away.
“Topper, please tell me that’s not who I think it is.”
Rafe asked with bewildered eyes.
“Well, who do you think it is?”
Topper questioned.
“She’s the hot broadcaster, isn’t she? The one all the guys like?”
Rafe asked, fear lacing his normally overzealous and cocky tone.
“She’s more than that, but yeah, that’s the same girl. Why?”
Topper quickly responded.
“I. fucked. up. – Top.”
He muttered in a voice so low and choppy, enunciating the words in a tone so serious yet quiet that Topper almost didn’t catch what he said under the pressure of the music against his ears.
“What did you do this time?”
He questioned, annoyance lacing his tone.
“I may or may not have made a joke at her expense when she came to interview me the other day.”
Topper rolled his eyes in response.
“Rafe, what did you say to her?”
He growled, grinding his molars against each other.
“I may or may not have asked her if she was an escort?”
He replied sheepishly.
“God! What the fuck is wrong with you?!”
Topper was yelling at this point, so unabashedly ashamed of Rafe’s behavior and his incessant need to ruin everything. He found it comical really, the way Rafe had the ability to put his foot in his mouth within moments of meeting women; his douchebaggery could . Though, this time, it was at the expense of you – someone topper cared for deeply, and you – you weren’t just some girl in a bar.
“I was trying to be funny and she looked so sad, Topper.”
He replied, seemingly remorseful.
“Of course she did, you idiot! What? You thought she was going to be happy about that?”
He asked in an accusatory tone and Rafe could only glance between you and back to Topper, like a chastised dog.
“Rafe, you need to find a way to make it right. She’s sweet. Joke or not – she didn’t deserve to be made to feel like that.”
Topper growled.
“I promise, I will.”
Rafe muttered in response, tipping back the neck of the beer bottle as it met his lips.
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
taglist:
as always, if you'd like to be added to or removed from the taglist, please shoot me an ask or comment on this post so i can keep track <3
sports reporter, y/n edwards, has the opportunity of a lifetime - interviewing nascar driver, rafe cameron. But, it may be a little bit more than she bargained for.
✯ warnings:
rafe is a sexy cocky bitch, reader is a queen, sexual innuendos, eventual smut, mature themes, rafe low key is a bitch, etc.
✯ a/n:
nothing!! please don't engage if you have a hard time with any of these topics <3 this was origianlly posted on my old blog @/illicitfixations, @/lovelornanonymity back in 2021/2022 and i have rewritten + reshared it here :)
You made your way up the concrete clad driveway, eyes on your feet as your nerves sat at the back of your throat. You had dressed casually, boyfriend jeans and a Ramones t-shirt with white platform sneakers. Your makeup was minimal, but enough to make a good impression. You were nervous for many reasons, one of which being that Rafe Cameron had never done an interview with anyone and what set you apart from any of the other sports reporters who had reached out to him? Absolutely nothing. You pushed the question down as you made it to the top of his driveway and took it in, the open garage door of the mid-sized brick home. It was nice, but not what you’d expect for a multi-million dollar race car driver.
“Hello?”
You asked, stepping into the garage where you took in the sight of multiple empty containers of motor oil and dirty rags that sat on a ruby red toolbox much taller than you. Suddenly, you backed up as white converse sneakers peeked out from underneath the red mustang taking up most of the space in the garage. They slid out from underneath the car and into your shins.
“Ow!”
You yelped and he chuckled smugly and suddenly, you felt uncomfortable. His sly smirk captured you as you took him in. He laid there, head cocked sideways as his grin spread into a full blown toothy smile. You were captivated by the blue irises that were his eyes, they were possibly the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen and as your eyes moved down again, taking in the blue jumpsuit that was covered in oil and grease, you knew you were in trouble.
“Is this the Cameron house?”
You asked, politely as you cleared your throat, awkward sexual tension looming in the air.
When your boss told you to interview Rafe Cameron before his upcoming race, you were ecstatic, elated even. You’d imagined a lot of things about him, you thought maybe he’d be easy to deal with, that the interview might possibly go smoothly, but the one thing you weren’t expecting him to be was this kind of beautiful. His chiseled jaw had made your core warm and he rose from the rolling seat, wiping his hands on the pants of his jumpsuit before moving to greet you with a dirty handshake.
“Well, it must be my lucky day.”
He smiled brightly as he spoke. His southern twang was another thing you weren’t expecting, but you pushed that thought down quickly and gave him a soft smile.
“What do you mean?”
You questioned.
“Well, you’re the escort Topper sent over, right? For my birthday?”
He winked and you swallowed thickly, your face falling at the notion that you looked anything remotely close to a hooker and someone so beautiful thinking it – that made your insides churn.
“Happy birthday”, you whispered before turning to walk back to the end of the driveway.
“Oh, come on, darlin,’ I’m just kidding around. What’s your name? What can I do for you?”
He moved toward you, grabbing your arm and turning you back to face him.
“My name is y/n. I don’t know why I’m here now. This was a mistake. I should’ve known you weren’t any different, all you driver’s are the same.”
You muttered, unsure why you had blurted those words out. The power he already had over you was sickening.
“Sweetheart, I can promise you I’m not like any driver you’ve ever met.”
He grinned smugly and you grimaced, watching him retreat from you to turn the key inside of the mustang he was previously under. You giggled as his large feet caught up in one another and he caught himself on the edge of the car. You found his clumsiness sexy and endearing and you were sure if you were that tall and lanky, you’d trip over your own feet too. As the engine turned over, you sighed in contentment, that familiar sound reminding you of your dad.
“I gotta go, but hey, take that front fender off and those twin turbos will look and sound ten times better.”
You cheekily said, winking in his direction before retreating to your car and driving away. The only thing Rafe could think was how impressed he was and how much he had underestimated you in the brief interaction. He needed to know who the hell you were and how the hell you wound up on his doorstep.
taglist:
as always, if you'd like to be added to or removed from the taglist, please shoot me an ask or comment on this post so i can keep track <3
Omg I have missed them!!! He is so cocky and annoying in this one I love it haha!! And she is just a fucking queen!! I am so excited to go into there world again 😍
As always baby you are amazing wow wow and everyone read this one it is so so good 🫶🏼
a tragic car accident looks like it'll be the end for you, but dr. cameron is here to make sure that doesn't happen.
✯ warnings:
mature themes, mentions of anxiety, nostalgia, and fear, car accident, death of a spouse (not rafe or y/n), major surgery, injuries, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, etc.
✯ a/n:
nothing!! please don't engage if you have a hard time with any of these topics <3 this was origianlly posted on my old blog @/illicitfixations, @/lovelornanonymity back in 2021/2022 and i have rewritten + reshared it here :)
Rafe tapped his fingers against the edge of his jeans, placing one foot in front of the other, the grass crunched under his sneaker clad feet and the smell of white roses drifted from the bouquet that laid dangling from his hand up to his nose. White roses were her favorite and he knew that each time he laid them on top of the grass she was laid to rest under that she smiled that breathtakingly beautiful Molly Cameron smile. He was sure that would happen today, too. He made it to the Cameron family plot that he had purchased under the guidance of his father as soon as he and Molly got engaged. Though he and Ward had never gotten along, Ward loved Molly like his own daughter and she made his son a good man, so he provided every bit of guidance that he could to his son about adulthood. That included purchasing the plot his young wife now laid in. Though Rafe didn’t understand the gesture of his father then, he did now and he wondered if he had ever thanked him for it. In fact, he was sure he hadn’t and maybe thankfulness was due. He moved, pondering the wedge between him and his father, a wedge so deep that he denied her of moving home to the outer banks and starting a family. The wedge that he let fester coming between them only hours before she died. It was his fault and he knew that. His feet planted parallel to the headstone he had picked out in the days following her departure from his universe as he pushed the guilt away into the deepest closet in his mind that he could find. It still hurts – the pain of her passing was ever present, even amidst the years that had been placed between the trauma that it induced within him. He hadn’t come to harp on what was lost, though. He came to share the beauty of his world with her, the beauty of you, the beauty of the ring that was burning a hole in his pocket and the question that lingered in his heart. He had done this before, he had asked the question and planned the event and yet, he felt like his throat was closing. He felt the guilt rise within him. If he asked you the same question, would it mean that she was forgotten? He couldn’t stomach the thought. Because quite frankly, without Molly there would be no Rafe. There wouldn’t be this version of him, the version that you held so close to your heart and he knew that and as much as he loved you, he wasn’t sure that he’d be okay if he had to forget her. So, here he was, staring at the face of the headstone that read her name about to beg for her advice, like only he could, longing for her sweet disposition and gentle smile as she would tuck his long locks behind his ears and tell him that it was okay.
“Hey, pretty girl.”
He spoke softly, laying the bouquet on the edge of her headstone and stepping back, placing his hands in the front pockets of his jeans.
“I brought your favorite. I’m sorry it’s been so long, Moll. The hours at the hospital got a little crazy and the girl I told you about, she got hurt pretty bad so I took care of her for a while.”
He smiled softly as he sat in front of her headstone, stretching out his legs at a one hundred and twenty degree angle before dangling his arms across them and holding his wrist in the opposite hand. He began thinking of how far you’d come. Your leg still hurt sometimes, but you were healthy and that’s all he could ask for after the trauma you’d endured. You were lucky to be alive – he was lucky that you were alive. He was no stranger to that truth.
“That’s actually why I’m here, baby. I still am taking care of her. Well, she’s all better now, but I want to keep taking care of her, you know? Like – for forever; I wanna ask her to marry me.”
He swallowed thickly, the words had come out. They had finally been spoken in the air that sat between him and Molly. He wasn’t sure what he was meant to feel at that moment, he just needed to tell her, he just needed to share this news with his very best friend in the entire world. Tears leaked down his chiseled cheeks as he imagined her embrace and her warmth. He could picture her still when he closed his eyes and even now, as his eyelashes met the skin of his cheeks, he could see her sitting criss-cross applesauce in that olive green dress that she loved smiling back at him. It was like she was there with him and that’s all he had wanted. That smile – it was enough to ease his nerves and convince him that she wanted him to be happy and to move on and that this was an inherently good thing. All of those things he knew she meant from beyond the grave in true Molly fashion and the thought made everything okay. He moved, wiping the tears from his face and retrieving his phone and a black velvet box from his pocket. He flicked through some photos for only a moment, before pulling up the latest one he had taken of you. You were smiling ear to ear while you ate a sandwich from your favorite breakfast cafe, mayo littered your upper lip and you held out your sandwich for Rafe to take a bite of, which he did as soon as he snapped the picture.
“Moll, this is her. Isn’t she beautiful?”
He questioned and he could picture Molly smiling in return and agreeing with him. He showed her a few more pictures from anniversaries and dates and even ones from your accident, telling her all about your quirks and your job and the wonderful person you were. He knew that you were sent directly from Molly’s grasp and he knew that she would’ve loved you – that she did from wherever she was. He was simply thankful for her divine intervention and for how his life was about to change again.
-
The cement was heavy against your bare feet as you fully sprinted from your car, not even bothering to lock it. The sensation of dirt and grime entering the pores of your toes and heels was present, but remained ignored as you ran. You had rushed through traffic after leaving work early, a phone call from Jenni placing you into a panic. The words ‘Rafe’s been hurt’ echoing through your ears as your body went into the same amount of shock you’d felt only years prior as you were wheeled through the very same doors you were running toward. You came to a stop and looked up, the red letters on the outside of the hospital that read ‘emergency’ made your heart jump to your throat. As many times as you’d seen them, you had never really understood what they meant. They meant that your person was in trouble. You rushed through the doors of the emergency room, frantically searching for your sweet boy. Jenni met you where you stood at the receptionists’ desk and gave you a quick hug, you clung to her for dear life, like if you didn’t hold on you were going to fall and if you fell, you’d never stop.
“Jenni, where is he?!”
You asked frantically as you pulled away, searching the room for any sign of Rafe
— any sign that he was okay, any sign that his heart was still beating.
“Sweetheart calm down, okay? He’s okay.”
“Jenni, what the f-fuck?”
Your lips tremble in sync with the words coming out of your mouth. “Can I see him?” You muttered.
“Of course baby girl, follow me.”
She instructed and you did as she said, following her down corridor after corridor and into the elevator as she stopped on the ICU floor. Your stomach dropped as she led you to the very same room you laid in for months. Only now, his name was on the outside of the door. You entered slowly behind Jenni, scared of what he was going to look like and just what had gone so wrong while he had been tucked away in the safety of the hospital. How had his work day led to this? You were confused as you entered, Jenni stepping away to reveal the room closed off and two curtains separating the two of you from seeing what remained inside.
“Jenni, what is this?”
You asked confusedly, wondering why she was prolonging the inevitable.
“How bad is he hurt? Please, tell me right now!”
You yelped, your voice betraying you as it went weak.
“Open the curtains, sweetheart. He’s okay, just like I said. I promise.”
She smiled as she left the room, closing the door behind her and placing a do not disturb sign around the handle before returning to work. You did as she said, approaching the curtains, swallowing thickly as you pulled them apart. There he stood, arm in black sling and that stupid Rafe Cameron smirk plastered across his lips. He was hurt, but he was indeed fine, just like Jenni had said.
“Hey, beautiful. It took ya long enough. What if I had been dying, huh?”
He asked, cheekily and you took in the room around him, candles floating in water inside of hurricane glass scattered all over the floor. Amidst them were white roses and pink tulip petals, Rafe’s way of letting both of his girls share this moment together.
“Sweet boy, what are you trying to do? Give me a heart attack?!”
You whisper yelled, as you completed the journey between where he stood and the door. He stood up straight, the white dress shirt his chest was adorned with crinkling at his small movements. The sling his arm was nestled tightly inside of sat at an angle, elevating his limb.
“Hey pretty girl. Glad you’re here.”
He said, grabbing your face as you got close enough to touch. He broke the space between you as he leaned his forehead against yours. You breathed him in for a moment, just happy he was still here, that he was alive after all.
“Rafferty, baby, what did you do to yourself?”
You questioned, empathy and care lacing your irises.
“Fell down some stairs. Can you believe that? Rafe Cameron and stairs?”
He joked and you frowned at his misfortune and clumsy nature.
“What’s the verdict?”
You questioned, cautiously.
“Broke my shoulder and my collarbone. Dr. Jacobs put it back together. Don’t worry, sweet girl. I'll be good as new soon.”
He replied, gently rubbing the backs of his knuckles against your cheek.
“You better be. You fixed all my bones just to break yours, what’s that about, huh?”
You joked, punching his good shoulder, but he could see you were upset at his predicament and it made his chest hurt.
“The Universe must’ve known I needed to slow down. I’ve been scared out of my mind all day.”
You were taken aback by his confession.
“Are you in pain, baby? Can I touch you?”
You questioned and his eyes softened, pulling you into a tight embrace nuzzling his chin into the top of your head.
“It’s sore, but nothing I haven’t dealt with before.”
You nodded pulling back from him, noting the candles again.
“What is all this, Rafferty?”
You questioned him confusedly again, knowing that as sweet as Rafe was, he definitely didn’t set all this up with one arm simply to ease the blow of telling you he got hurt at work.
“This is why I made Jenni call you, sweet girl.”
He said, smiling ear to ear like he knew something that you didn’t.
“I thought she called me because you got hurt?”
You questioned, eyebrows furrowing.
“Well – that’s one reason.”
He smiled smugly.
“Spit it out, Rafferty!”
You said, annoyance and laughter dancing together.
“Okay, okay. Well, I’ve wanted to ask you this really important question for a while, baby and I had finally gotten things in line to do it today in central park. But, then I fell down the stairs trying to get to the ER for a consult and so I had to change plans and I guess that’s how we ended up here.”
You nodded in understanding, though you were still unsure what question he meant to ask and why he had to line anything up for it to happen.
“You see – the day of your accident changed my perspective on a lot of things; love, friendship, the complexities of happiness and joy, and the most important thing it changed for me was the idea of marriage.”
Your eyes almost popped out of your head at his revelation and suddenly, it all made sense.
“Rafferty –”
You interjected, but he stopped you.
“No, let me finish, baby.”
You placed your lips together in a tight line, wanting to soak up every word.
“It changed things for me. When I lost Molly, I was in a hole of despair so deep that I didn’t think I’d ever get out of a-and then you show up and you ask me if you’re gonna die and I looked in your eyes and I just knew. I just knew that you were going to change my life, I just knew that I had to save you.”
The emotion could be heard with every syllable he spoke.
“You did – you did save me, Rafe. Thank you.”
You whispered and he removed his hand from your grasp, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the same black velvet box that he had shown to Molly days prior. You audibly gasped as he struggled to get down to one knee and you followed him, kneeling in the same way he had.
“You’re kinda ruining the whole me being on one knee thing, baby.”
You laughed through watery eyes.
“This feels more intimate – more us.”
You replied and he nodded his head in agreement as he struggled to open the box with one hand. You aided him and looked down, the size of the diamond flooring you. It was beautiful in the same way that he was and you shouldn’t have expected anything less as you took in the cathedral setting the pear shaped diamond sat on.
“I want you to be Mrs. Cameron, are you okay with that? W-will you be my wife, baby?”
Your eyes profusely leaked tears as you nodded your head yes ferociously and pulled him close to you, kissing his lips gently and placing your forehead against his.
“It would be the honor of my life.”
You whispered before kissing him once more.
“Rafe?”
You questioned.
“Yes, sweetheart?”
He replied.
“I just want you to know that this gesture means everything to me and I don’t ever want to take Molly’s place or make you feel like this is a requirement to be with me. I’d be happy even if we never got married. I didn’t even think you wanted to.”
You said meekly and he felt his heart almost leap out of his chest. The feelings he had wrestled with prior to visiting Molly became ever present in his brain again. Why had he doubted you? When he knew you were good in the same way she was and you’d never ask more of him than what he was willing to give. You’d never want to step on her memory.
“Baby, can I tell you something?”
He asked and you nodded.
“I bought this ring the week after you moved in. I knew you were going to be my wife, it just took me a while to get to a place where I was okay with the idea of loving you to the degree I loved her. Because if I lost you too – I just wouldn’t survive. I was scared that if I went there with you, I would forget her.”
He spoke honestly.
“Rafe, baby, as long as I’m around, I’ll never let you forget her.”
You whispered, trailing your fingertip over his trembling lips as you leaned in to kiss him.
-
taglist:
as always, if you'd like to be added to or removed from the taglist, please shoot me an ask or comment on this post so i can keep track <3
Baby I am sobbing it is so beautiful and so sad and so wow just wow, I know you can write anything because you are so damn talented but this is just perfect ❤️ I love them and you 🥺
He came to share the beauty of his world with her, the beauty of you, the beauty of the ring that was burning a hole in his pocket and the question that lingered in his heart - aghhhh 😍
"Rafe, baby, as long as I'm around, I'll never let you forget her." You whispered, trailing your fingertip over his trembling lips as you leaned in to kiss him. - ofc she wouldn’t, bc they are perfect and Molly are looking down and smiling at them 😭🫶🏼
a tragic car accident looks like it'll be the end for you, but dr. cameron is here to make sure that doesn't happen.
✯ warnings:
mature themes, mentions of anxiety, nostalgia, and fear, car accident, death of a spouse (not rafe or y/n), major surgery, injuries, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, etc.
✯ a/n:
nothing!! please don't engage if you have a hard time with any of these topics <3 this was origianlly posted on my old blog @/illicitfixations, @/lovelornanonymity back in 2021/2022 and i have rewritten + reshared it here :)
Rafe had taken you to the physical therapy room that was located in the downstairs portion of the hospital. You were excited, finally getting out of the room, finally getting to move. You’d mostly been doing your exercises with Rafe or the therapist in your hospital room for the last few months, unable to move more than a few feet at a time with your crutches. Today, they thought you were ready to begin putting weight on your leg, the bone finally being healed enough to withstand the pressure. But, as you found yourself sitting in front of him in a wheelchair in front of two parallel bars as he knelt in front of you, coaxing you to actually, physically put your best foot forward, you felt inadequate. The space in between the bars was daunting and you were scared. You felt like you weren’t up for the challenge. Would you ever walk again? and if you couldn’t do what he was asking, would you never get to have him the way you wanted – would you ever be – the you that you knew again? As you looked down at him, you could tell he sensed your fear, you could tell that not only did this mean a lot to you, it meant a lot to him.
“What’s going on inside that pretty head of yours?”
He asked, his tone playful, but also lined with concern.
“I don’t think I can do it. I’m scared that I can’t hold my own weight. I haven’t been able to in so long.”
You whispered into the thin space between his body and yours. He grabbed your hands from the arms of the wheelchair, balancing on the balls of his feet.
“You can, I promise.”
He reassured you softly, but you didn’t know what to say or do.
“What if I never walk again, Rafe? What if I’m like this forever and no one ever loves me because of it?”
He was startled at your question because he already knew one person who was so deeply in love with you that it was painful. He didn’t care if you were wheelchair bound for the rest of your life; that wouldn’t change how he felt. But, he needed you to be happy, to be able to teach again and the only way he was going to get you out of this headspace was to show you a little bit of tough love.
“Look at me – you’re not paralyzed. Your pelvis was broken, yes and so was your leg. But, I fixed it, sweetheart. The only person standing in your way right now is you. You have every capability to walk and you will. It’s not going to feel good at first, it’s going to hurt. But, I’m going to be here, right behind you for every step, okay? I’m not going anywhere.”
Your vision became cloudy with unshed tears. Sometimes it felt like Rafe knew whatever you needed in every moment and he provided it, effortlessly, without question.
“Okay. I trust you.”
You whispered again, sniffles filling the thin air in between the two of you as Rafe wiped the tears that had fallen off of your rosy colored cheeks. Rafe gave you a reassuring nod before moving to place a walker in front of you. You looked at it, unsure of how you felt about moving, about standing on your own two feet after spending the two weeks it had been since your surgery on strict orders of bed rest. He moved behind you, arms reaching underneath your armpits, pushing you upward once you gave him the okay. The physical therapist stood close by, coaxing you forward with words – directions – that you couldn’t quite make out.
“Hands on the handles, baby. I’ve got you, I promise.”
Rafe cooed in your ear, his reassuring words were all you could focus on as the pain of standing for the first time in two weeks hit your senses. Tears pricked your eyes – the sensation of your limbs hitting the floor bringing an ache in your bones that was so great, it reminded you of the initial pain you felt when you heard the crunch of your car collide with the other vehicle. You let out a whimper and the tears fell down your face once more.
“Rafe –, i-it’s too much –, it hurts too much!”
Your scream sounded more like a battle cry to him and it felt like his heart was going to stop beating any second – seeing you like this, it was too much, it hurt too much.
“Easy, sweetheart. I know it hurts, baby. I’m so sorry. Can you take just one step for me? Just one and we can go back to your room and eat shitty food and watch movies all day, I promise.”
He encouraged you and you obliged, holding your breath as you willed your weak muscles to move. They shook as you were able to barely lift one foot off the ground, sliding it forward as your body protested and your muscles screamed, ready to succumb to the ground beneath you.
“Look at you, pretty girl – walking! Take another step for me, okay?”
You knew Rafe was right, you knew you needed to do this. So, you listened, repeating the same gut-wrenching process with your other foot. It was successful and after five steps, Rafe let you rest, ready to take you back to your room and cuddle you until you fell asleep. He lifted you, carrying you back to the wheelchair, noting how tired you were. He couldn’t put you through the pain of five more steps – it would’ve killed him.
“Okay, pretty girl. Let’s go take a nap.”
He whispered against your sweat soaked hairline, planting a kiss before pulling away and wheelcing you back upstairs to your room.
-
It hadn’t been long after he got you settled back into your bed and curled up next to you that he had realized you were sad, the weight of your inability to function on your own weighed heavy on your chest and as you cuddled deeper into his chest for the third time he probed you just a bit.
“Sweet girl, if you get any closer I think you’ll be inside my skin.”
He spoke in a sarcastic, joke-y voice. But, you suddenly felt insecure at his words.
He means you’re clingy.
He means get off of him.
He means you’re a burden to him.
“O-Oh, I’m sorry. I can get off of you. I don’t mean to be clingy.”
You spoke, trying to move away from him and his breath caught in his throat. The stutter, the hurt that lined your words – it hit him like a ton of bricks. Clingy? Had he just fucked up? He pulled you close to him again, wanting nothing more than for you to bury yourself in his chest again but this time your body felt rigid against him. Had he underestimated how fragile you were? Had he broken you into pieces again after trying so desperately to put you back together?
“No –, that’s not what I meant. I was just making a joke, sweetheart.”
You gingerly nodded, thinking that maybe you were just being sensitive after having such a hard, emotional morning.
“You know I always want you close to me, right? Don’t you know that by now?”
He questioned, pulling your chin up with his thumb and forefinger so your eyes met his. He noted the unshed tears in your eyes and his chest began to grow tighter by the second.
“Sweetheart, what’s the matter? What’s going on inside your pretty little brain?”
He probed you sweetly, only wanting to do whatever he could to aid the pain you were feeling.
“Everything just feels heavy, I guess.”
You sniffled.
“What do you mean?”
He questioned, running his free hand through your hair as he pushed the strands away from your face in a soothing manner, waiting for you to tell him how to fix it.
“I’m just sad –, I just feel weird. I wish I could walk more than five wobbly steps and I wish I asn’t confined to a hospital and I wish wouldn’t have gotten blood on that beautiful dress I spent my last thirty dollars on for some stupid blind date.”
The words came out of your mouth in a jumbled, fast manner. But he was able to decipher them all, the mumbled panic that was so uniquely you never bothered him.
“I know, baby. I know. I’m right here, I’ll always be right here.”
It was more of a declaration than a sentence and you hoped he was telling the truth. That was your last thought before falling asleep in his strong arms.
-
Jenni had received a very detailed text from Rafe; begging, crying, pleading, for her help with a surprise he was planning for you. You were currently peacefully sleeping in his arms and had been for hours now. He didn’t have the heart to wake you after the morning you had – the pain etched on your face and the emotional fragility you had shown him, he just couldn’t bring himself to wake you from whatever beautiful things you were dreaming of. Instead, he continued to cuddle into you, brushing the pads of his thumbs across your cheeks and his fingers in and out of the strands of your hair. He needed Jenni’s help, held down by your body and not having the heart to move you or rid himself of your warmth, really it was more for him than for you. He just wanted to hold you, to be close to you. He took all his time with Molly for granted and he vowed not to do it ever again. Which left Jenni and her rockstar team of nurses who knew how the hell to plan anything and everything to plan the dreamy first date he had in mind for you. He knew you needed this, he knew you deserved it after everything you’d been through and he knew it was time that he made a move if he was going to make one. He even felt Molly give him the nudge from wherever she was. If she was going to send him anyone, he knew she would’ve sent you because you were everything good that he remembered about her – the kindness, the beauty, the wisdom, the pain. You were inherently good and tonight would be the night he’d show you.
Jenni bought a dress for you to wear – satin, pale blue, the same one you had been crying over hours previously in Rafe’s arms – the same one you had come into the emergency room in, drenched in your own blood. For him, it had to be this dress, that was the only real request that had to met for the night to be successful in his mind and Jenni obliged. He hoped that when you wore it tonight, that you would feel reborn, that it would replace the memory of the last time it's cool fabric met your skin and the pain you associated with it. He hoped that whoever you were meant to meet the night of your accident, whatever was supposed to happen on that blind date was drowned out by the special night he had planned for you and that if you remembered anything about the accident – it was that it brought you together. Jenni stood in the doorway of your room giving Rafe a soft smile and a nod, ensuring him that her work was done and everything was ready for the two of you. You laid in his arms, the both of you having been watching procedural crime shows for the past hour – they were your favorite. Your attention was drawn away from the tv as Rafe turned the volume down and looked you in the eyes.
“Pretty girl, I have a surprise for you.”
He spoke sweetly, with the Rafe Cameron smile on his face. He was jittery and excited and you were curious, so you took the bait.
“And what have I done to deserve a surprise?”
You questioned, with a sarcastic laugh.
“You’ve been such a good girl, today.”
His voice was sensual and sexy as he placed a kiss on your cheek as blush rose from beneath it.
“And what might this surprise be?”
You questioned, laughing as his lips met the skin of your cheekbone, the tickle of his stubble making its presence known against your senses.
“Not telling – Jenni’s gonna help you get all dolled up and I'll be back, okay sweetheart?”
He gave you a soft smile and it sent arousal to your core – wondering what in God’s green earth this beautiful man had planned for you and what you had done to deserve even a fraction of his attention.
“Okay, sweet boy.”
You smiled and he left the room. Jenni pulled the dress out from behind the bathroom door where it hung. It was pressed and as she brought it close to you, you ran your fingertips down the cool, satin material.
“How did you get it clean?”
You wondered out loud, astonished at the shape of the dress.
“I didn’t. I bought you a new one. Rafe requested this one be worn tonight, if that’s okay with you.”
You were at a loss for words at his thoughtfulness – to send Jenni out to find this dress, the dress. You couldn’t fathom how you even deserved to breathe the same air that he did. You couldn’t form a sentence, you only nodded with teary eyes and a bright smile. She helped you into it before curling your hair and adding a small amount of makeup to your face – foundation and lip gloss was all you had requested and just as she added the gloss to your plump lips, Rafe stood in the doorway with a bouquet of tulips hanging from his hand as he leaned against the doorway and gawked at you.
“You are just the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
He spoke, jaw hanging open before bringing his lips into a smile. It was your turn to gawk as your eyes took him in. His face was where you started, taking in every change that had been made to his appearance. He was even hotter outside of scrubs. His hair sat messily on his head, his stubble; now gone, leaving a mustache on his upper lip and for someone who wasn’t a mustache kind of girl – it was doing things to you. His shirt was littered with a black and white checker print with sporadic palm leaves layering on top. It clung to his arms in a way that you didn’t think was possible, but nevertheless, it was and it was only increasing your attraction to him by the second. The top two buttons were undone, his bare chest joining the party and you couldn’t complain – you had imagined what he looked like shirtless over a thousand times; never expecting you’d get to see him like this. He paired it with black jeans and tennis shoes, they were black too.
“You’re sweet.”
You said, blush rising on your cheeks. He moved to the bed, where you sat and embraced Jenni in a hug.
“Thank you. I owe ya one.”
He whispered into her ear.
“Just don’t fuck it up, Rafferty.”
She grunted, smacking him playfully in the back of the head. He winced and tried to rub the spot where she hit him in an attempt to get the pain to go away.
“You ready, pretty girl?”
He asked, kneeling at your feet as he slid the sandals Jenni had picked out for you over your freshly painted toes.
“I’m ready.”
You replied, giving him a smile as you ran your fingers through his hair.
-
You still couldn’t walk very far which meant Rafe had to push your wheelchair to the elevator and up all twenty-three floors of the hospital before the two of you made it to the rooftop. As the doors of the elevator swung open, and you took in the sight before you, your chest felt like it was going to cave in. The rooftop, which was usually only used as a helicopter landing pad for critical patients, had been transformed into a romantic getaway – string lights hung over the entirety of the space and a thick white quilt lined the concrete where a picnic basket sat waiting for you and Rafe to enjoy the contents inside of it.
“Rafe, what is all this?”
You questioned him and the joy on your face was enough to make his head explode.
“This, my sweet, sweet girl, is our first date.”
He cooed as he lifted you from the wheelchair bridal-style and sat you on top of a pillow that laid on the quilt. Your still healing pelvis would appreciate him for it later. He moved to sit across from you and took the orange juice he had prepared out of the basket, pouring it into a wine glass for you and handing it to you.
“Rafe –, this –, this is so special. Thank you.”
You gave him the biggest smile you could muster up, placing your hand over your heart to express how much it meant to you.
“You’re welcome, sweet girl. You deserve it. I thought since you can’t leave the hospital and this is where we met, what better place than here?”
He replied and you smiled.
“So, what do people talk about on first dates? I mean I haven’t been on one in a long time.”
You chuckled as you spoke and it lightened the mood. You were both nervous and you could feel it in the air that maybe he hadn’t been on one in a while either.
“I haven’t either, baby. It’s okay.”
He reached over, his hand intertwining with yours and you leaned into his touch.
“You know that restaurant, La fogata? I was actually supposed to meet a girl there the night you came into the emergency room and when I saw you –, I just couldn’t leave.”
His voice went from joyful to somber quickly.
“That’s crazy because that’s where I was on my way to when I was hit. That’s where my blind date was supposed to be at. I’m sorry I kept you from your date, Rafe.”
He looked at you with bewildered eyes.
“Don’t apologize, sweet girl. I’m grateful that I was the one who got to take care of you even though I wished you had never gotten hurt so badly. Do you know who you were supposed to meet?”
He questioned.
“No, sadly I never got his name. A friend set us up, I just knew he was a doctor.”
“What’s the name of your friend?”
He asked you, wondering what the odds were that you were his date and fate had brought you together anyways.
“Uh, Sarah. Sarah Cameron. We went to college together –”
He sat, bewildered, shocked, confused. He felt so many emotions at once that he didn’t know what he felt. How had you been right under his nose for all of these years?
“What is it, Rafe?”
You questioned in concern as you stared at his form.
“Baby, Sarah is my sister. She set us up.”
Your eyes went wide and the two of you looked at each other, shock littering your faces and you busted out laughing – huge, enormous belly laughs littered the air around you. When you finally came back down to earth, Rafe opened the picnic basket bringing out food from La Fogata – spanish rice, chicken, and cheese dip. He dished it out for you and you enjoyed the food, not having anything other than your biscuits and hospital food for what had felt like forever.
“So, what is an eligible bachelor like you doing going on blind dates anyways?”
He swallowed thickly, knowing the ball he was about to drop on you, wondering if you’d run in the opposite direction.
“My wife died.”
There was silence between the two of you for what felt like an hour, the cool breeze and the stars the only thing you could focus on.
He was married. Of course, he was fucking married. He was beautiful and perfect and wounded. What kind of hell this sweet boy had gone through and he never even mentioned it, until now.
“W-what?”
You finally asked, unsure if you had heard him correctly.
“She was in an accident similar to yours, she had injuries like you did, but when she came into the ER – she had lost too much blood. She was basically gone when she got here and t-then, she just died.”
Tears lined his eyes as he spoke. He had no intention of sharing this information with you tonight, but he did anyway. He trusted you with his heart.
“Rafe, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what it’s like to lose someone like that. But, I do know what it’s like to grieve someone who’s still alive and I know how painful that is, so I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”
He gripped your hand like his life depended on it.
“It’s okay. I’m pretty sure she sent you to me.”
Your eyes welled with tears at his words.
“Can I kiss you?”
He asked, politely – always a gentleman – and you nodded your head vigorously, leaning in as the journey between your lips and his was stopped and your mouths collided in a wet, sloppy, passionate kiss. His hands cupped your cheeks and yoru hands met his hair, the tickle of his mustache on your top lips made you smile, for a brief moment kissing with your teeth as his tongue fought to control yours. You fit in his mouth like you were always meant to be there, like you were always meant to be his – and maybe you were.
taglist:
as always, if you'd like to be added to or removed from the taglist, please shoot me an ask or comment on this post so i can keep track <3
“What if I never walk again, Rafe? What if I’m like this forever and no one ever loves me because of it?” - Aww babygirl 😭
seeing you like this, it was too much, it hurt too - the way i love him is unhealthy, he is so cute aghh
“You’ve been such a good girl, today.” - omg I think I would die on the stop if he said this to me 🫣 and also him getting her the dress omfg I love him
hair sat messily on his head, his stubble; now gone, leaving a mustache on his upper lip and for someone who wasn’t a mustache kind of girl – it was doing things to you.- indeed yes, he can pull it off 🥵
“Uh, Sarah. Sarah Cameron. We went to college together –” - not them finding out they were each others dates 🥺 haha but also how have his last name never come up
He asked, politely – always a gentleman – and you nodded your head vigorously, leaning in as the journey between your lips and his was stopped and your mouths collided in a wet, sloppy, passionate kiss. His hands cupped your cheeks and yoru hands met his hair, the tickle of his mustache on your top lips made you smile, for a brief moment kissing with your teeth as his tongue fought to control yours. You fit in his mouth like you were always meant to be there, like you were always meant to be his – and maybe you were. - Baby I am obsessed 🥺 so fucking sexy and him asking for permission, everyone does not like that but I think it is so sexy aghh I love them as always
(mood board does NOT depict readers’ appearance !!)
SUMMARY: y/n knows exactly what makes rafe angry, and after a fight she uses it to her advantage.
based on this ask !! i hope it’s what you asked for anon, enjoy my lovely <3
(check out my other drew starkey & rafe cameron works here !!)
WARNINGS: lowkey a toxic relationship, cursing, rage has anger issues, reader is a teensy bit petty, angst but w/ a fluffy/soft ending though !! (lmk if i missed anything !!)
WORD COUNT: 1.1k
THIRD PERSON +
The fight had been bad—bad enough that Y/N had stormed out of Rafe's truck, slamming the door behind her so hard the sound echoed through the empty parking lot.
Her chest heaved with frustration, fingers trembling as she dug into her bag for her phone. She needed space. She needed air. And, most of all, she needed to get away from Rafe before she said something she couldn't take back.
Their relationship had always been intense, an unrelenting push and pull that left them both breathless. Rafe loved hard, and he fought even harder, his jealousy and temper a storm she'd learned to navigate. Most of the time, she knew how to calm him down—knew exactly what to say to keep the fire from burning too hot. But tonight? Tonight, she didn't want to be the one to fix it.
Her finger hovered over the settings on her phone, her heart racing as she tapped the switch to turn off her location. She knew it would piss him off. That was exactly why she did it.
The messages started almost immediately.
Rafe🖤: Where the fuck are you?
Rafe🖤: Turn your location back on, Y/N.
Rafe🖤: Don't do this right now.
Y/N ignored them, walking the short distance to her house. She needed a night to herself, away from his sharp words and possessive hands. By the time she locked her front door behind her, her phone had blown up with missed calls, each one filling her with a strange mix of satisfaction and guilt.
She tossed it onto the couch and sighed, running a hand through her hair. She hated fighting with him. Hated the way it drained her, leaving her restless and exhausted all at once. But at the same time, she couldn't just keep letting him get away with his controlling tendencies.
She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. A night of self-care—it was exactly what she needed.
—
Rafe was losing his mind.
He was pacing his bedroom, jaw tight, hands clenched into fists. He'd called her a dozen times, sent twice as many texts, and nothing. The read receipts taunted him. She was ignoring him on purpose.
His heart hammered in his chest, but it wasn't just anger. It was fear.
He knew Y/N, knew she was stubborn and fiery, but she wasn't reckless. She wouldn't just disappear—unless she wanted to prove a point.
"Fuck," he muttered, shoving his hands through his hair. He grabbed his keys off the nightstand and stalked out of his house. If she wasn't going to answer him, he'd go straight to where he thought she’d be.
—
Y/N had just finished painting her nails when the loud, insistent pounding on her front door made her jump.
She groaned, already knowing exactly who it was.
"Y/N. Open the goddamn door."
Rolling her eyes, she stayed where she was on the couch, letting him stew. She wasn't about to let him ruin her night of peace.
More knocking. Harder this time.
"Seriously?" she called out, still not moving. "Go home, Rafe."
"Not happening," he shot back, voice muffled but unmistakably pissed.
Y/N sighed, setting down her nail polish bottle with exaggerated patience. She padded to the door, taking her sweet time before unlocking it and swinging it open.
Rafe stood there, broad shoulders tense, blue eyes blazing with frustration. His chest was rising and falling with uneven breaths, like he'd been barely keeping himself together the whole drive over.
"You think this shit is funny?" he asked, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation.
She arched a brow. "What are you talking about?"
He scoffed, shutting the door behind him. "You turned your location off, ignored my calls—what the fuck was I supposed to think, huh?"
She crossed her arms, unbothered. "That I wanted space?"
Rafe clenched his jaw, running a hand down his face. He was furious, but more than that, he was relieved. Seeing her standing there in pajamas, a face mask on, her nails half-painted—she hadn't been out doing something reckless. She hadn't been with someone else. She was just... here. Safe.
That realisation made his anger simmer just enough to be replaced with something else.
His shoulders dropped, his gaze softening ever so slightly. "You could've at least told me you were home."
Y/N sighed, some of her stubbornness fading at the exhaustion in his voice. "I just... needed a break, Rafe. From the fighting, from the way you get when you're mad." She shook her head. "I didn't want to deal with it tonight."
His lips pressed into a tight line, and for a moment, she thought he'd argue. But then he surprised her by exhaling slowly and nodding. "I get it," he muttered.
She blinked, caught off guard by his sudden agreement. "You do?"
"I don't like it," he admitted, his voice lower now. "But yeah." He ran a hand through his hair, the anger fading as something heavier took its place. "I just—I fucking hate not knowing where you are. It drives me crazy."
Y/N sighed, her frustration waning. She knew Rafe wasn't like this for no reason. He loved her, even if he didn't always know how to show it in a healthy way.
She stepped closer, hesitantly reaching out to touch his arm. "I wasn't trying to hurt you. I just... needed time to breathe."
Rafe looked down at her, his blue eyes searching hers. After a beat, he nodded again. Then, without a word, he pulled her into his arms, wrapping her up in a tight embrace.
Y/N exhaled against his chest, feeling the tension between them ease just a little. He was still possessive, still overbearing, but he was trying. And for now, that was enough.
"Can I stay?" he mumbled into her hair.
She let out a soft chuckle. "You already let yourself in, so yeah."
He huffed out a quiet laugh, his grip on her tightening. "I'll make it up to you."
Y/N pulled back slightly to look up at him. "Damn right you will."
He smirked, then pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead. "C'mon. Let's go to bed."
An hour later, they were tangled up together in her bed, limbs intertwined beneath the covers. Rafe's arms were wrapped securely around her, like he was afraid she'd disappear if he let go.
Y/N felt herself start to drift off, comforted by the steady rise and fall of his chest. Despite everything—the fights, the chaos—she knew she wouldn't trade this for anything.
Because for all his flaws, Rafe Cameron loved her in a way that no one else ever could. And if he had his way—no one else ever would.
(divider by @kodaswrld !!)
betty’s notes ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚
this was a short little one, but i’m trying to get through as many request before i go on holiday !! the ‘sports car’ drew starkey fic may be posted when i return as i’ll be taking a tumblr break for that week :)
still send in any requests, i’ll be working through my inbox until then !! some of these i’ve been writing for a couple weeks i’ve just had writers block lmao
a tragic car accident looks like it'll be the end for you, but dr. cameron is here to make sure that doesn't happen.
✯ warnings:
mature themes, mentions of anxiety, nostalgia, and fear, car accident, death of a spouse (not rafe or y/n), major surgery, injuries, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, etc.
✯ a/n:
nothing!! please don't engage if you have a hard time with any of these topics <3 this was origianlly posted on my old blog @/illicitfixations, @/lovelornanonymity back in 2021/2022 and i have rewritten + reshared it here :)
—
Rafe’s soft hand tracing the freckles on your cheek is what woke you and as you stirred, wincing, as the first of the morning’s pain hit your senses, you looked up and into his blue eyes. At that moment, you were convinced there was no better way to wake up. You could imagine looking into his eyes in a tiny apartment close to the hospital; coffee filling your nostrils as the beans were rung of their juices and into the cup he’d be sure to bring to your bedside, because he’s just that kind of a guy. Those daydreams had been keeping you going lately, imagining a life outside of what you were living now – outside of hospital filled days and pain and the unattainable doctor at your bedside. You had been starting your mornings with blue eyes a lot lately, which was the main constant between your daydreams and your reality – those days – the blue-eyed days, always let you put your best foot forward and you were thankful that today was one of those days.
“Good morning, pretty girl.”
He spoke softly, careful not to startle you as you were still gaining your bearings from the slumber you were woken from.
“Hi.”
You spoke suggestively, your morning voice poking through, unsure of how sexy he found you as you sat upright in the hospital bed. You winced again.
“Easy, tiger.”
He chastised you softly, pushing your shoulders back against the soft pillows.
“Here, let me.”
He spoke, reassuring you with a smile. You gingerly nodded as he grabbed the bed’s remote control and brought the top half to an upright position.
“What would I do without you?”
You questioned playfully again. Jenni snickered from behind Rafe, watching as you shamelessly flirted with him, you had made that your full time job and you hoped he didn’t mind. You weren’t stupid enough to think he meant the nicknames and sweet words, even though it all felt real, you were sure it wasn’t. The truth was, you didn’t believe in love, even if it came in the form of Rafe Cameron, who you were sure had much better prospects than some girl he met for the first time in the emergency room. You thought about the night of your accident often – so much so that it was consuming your being; some days it was all you thought about and this morning, while you woke up to those pretty blue eyes, was no different. The thoughts were consuming you in the same way that Molly consumed him. You closed your eyes for a brief moment, drowning out the sound of Jenni and Rafe chatting amongst you about the day's plans. You loved them, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care when all you could see as your rows of eyelashes collided was the pale blue dress that clung to your body as you looked in the mirror one last time before heading out the door. Another blind date. You had spent your last thirty bucks on the dress, hopeful it would make a good impression. All that you knew about him was that he was a doctor – you didn’t know where or even what his name was, you just hoped he wasn’t an asshole like the last three had been. You were lonely and ready to find your person; your fertility clock ticking away by the day. You were supposed to fall in love in college and get married and do all the things that you’re supposed to do when that happens. But, instead, some dumb boy named Storm had broken your heart freshman year and you hadn’t let anyone in since. What kind of a person names their son Storm, anyways? Though you thought maybe they knew the Storm he’d turn into – maybe they knew who he’d become. You should’ve taken it as an omen; for him, for your life, for the way the 18 wheeler collided with your car, for the way the blood soaked the pale blue satin of your dress, and for the way the first time you locked eyes with Rafe you knew you loved him.
“Earth to y/n!”
You heard Rafe chuckle as he waved his hand in front of your face. Your eyes were closed, but you felt the wind against your face as he moved it back and forth. Your eyes flew open and you forced a smile; he could tell.
“Sorry, I was thinking.”
You replied softly.
“What were you thinking about, sweetheart? Is everything okay? Are you in pain?”
His brows furrowed in concern. One thing you admired about Rafe is that he always wanted to make sure you were okay. He was selfless and kind; a golden retriever in human form and you loved that about him. You knew those qualities made him a good doctor and moreso, a good person, a good man.
“I’m fine, I promise. I just got lost in my thoughts. I feel a little weird today, lots of emotions, y’know?”
You replied, giving him a genuine smile this time. He always brought them out of you – by simply just being.
“Will it make you feel better if I tell you I brought you breakfast and that you and I are going to go on a little field trip?”
He looked at you with bright eyes, eagerly anticipating your response and as the joy laced your features, he knew he’d do anything to watch that in slow motion over and over again.
“Is it my favorite?!”
You squealed in question and excitement, already knowing the answer. ‘He remembers things about me’, you thought.
“Of course it is, you know I gotta take care of my girl.”
He said, placing the chicken and mayo biscuit on the tray table in front of you. You looked down at the orange and brown Biscuit Co. wrapping paper it was covered in. Ever since Rafe had found out that you loved it as much as him, he made it his mission to bring you one at least once a week. He deemed it a treat for your progress in treatment. The words that had just come out of his mouth hit you in the same way your body flying through the windshield of your car had. The assault on all your senses made you freeze and your only response was the blush that filled your cheeks and a soft smile.
His girl? Is that what you were to him – were you his girl? Or, would he be just like everyone else if you were too close to him.
“Now, eat up – Big day today, sweet girl.”
He said, smiling at you – the Rafe Cameron one – the one you couldn’t get enough of.
“What’s so special about today?”
You questioned, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
“Today is your first day out of the hospital with me.”
He said sweetly, rubbing your cheek with the pad of his thumb. You frowned, anxiety filled you. He knew you well enough now to know it would trigger your fight or flight response – hence the biscuit.
“Don’t worry, sweet girl. I’ll be there the whole time – we got this. It’ll be fun. You deserve some fun, don’t you think?”
“I-I don’t know, Rafe.”
You muttered.
“You do. Now, eat up and I’ll go get everything ready for us to go. Jenny is gonna help you get dressed okay? I had her get some clothes for you.”
He promised in return, a wink meeting your gaze before he kissed your cheek and disappeared from the room as quickly as he had entered.
“He’s a sneaky little fucker, isn’t he?”
Jenny blurted out, erupting in a belly laugh and suddenly there were crinkles beside your lashes as your smile met your eyes.
“That, he is – but, you know what he’s up to, don’t you?”
You questioned her, squinting your eyes in her direction.
“I don’t know a thing!”
She gasped, feigning shock as she placed her hand against her chest like you had shattered her heart. You could only laugh at her antics.
“Okay, but, seriously – is this okay? Can I trust him?”
You asked.
“Sweet girl, if there’s anyone you can trust – it’s him.”
Jenny replied, a sweet smile on her face. Your heart clenched at her words and you nodded shyly in response.
She moved around you to the chair adjacent to your bed where a pile of clothes lay waiting for you, quickly gathering them up in her hands before walking around the bed again and helping you lean forward. You aided her as best as you could with your left leg locked straight by the brace it was confined to. She started by reaching behind your neck as she helped you lean forward and gently untying the hospital gown that was draped over your top half. Her hands worked quickly and before you knew it, she was helping you into a bra and placing a UNC sweatshirt over your head. It was oversized and large, accommodating the injuries to your abdomen well. They were healing, but you wouldn’t be back to normal for a while. Jenni continued her work, tenderly removing the straps of the brace and lifting your leg out of it, taking the shorts that Rafe had provided for you and placing each of your ankles before she slid them up your legs as you sat there.
“Okay, sweet girl. I’m gonna put the brace back on and then I'll help you upright so we can pull your pants up.”
She spoke sweetly, encouraging you along the way. She knew how humiliating this was for people, she was no stranger to the reality of that. She worked as fast as she could, buckling you back into your prison before turning your body and letting your legs lower to the floor.
“Put your hands on my shoulders and don’t touch your injured leg to the ground, okay? Rafe will kill me otherwise.”
She joked, but you did as she said and watched in adoration as she manhandled you and helped you stand only on your healthy leg while she pulled your pants up around your hips.
“All done!”
She beamed emphatically at her hard work coming to fruition and just as the words left her lips Rafe entered the room.
“You ready, sweet girl?”
He questioned and you smiled kindly in response, giving him a slight nod.
—
Rafe had packed you safely in the backseat of his truck and he’d gone above and beyond, really. Though, you were sure maybe it was just the doctor in him that had you currently seated in luxury; your back leaned up against the back driver’s side door, a very fluffy pillow well above the regular hospital grade ones you were used to created a barrier between you, the window, and the plastic door handle. Your legs were laying straight out in front of you, the left one elevated by the same brand of fluffy pillow that your back leaned against. Rafe had thought of everything it seemed, you made a mental note of that as you watched your ice machine pump cool water onto the top of your knee.
“How are you feeling back there, pretty girl?”
He asked, turning down the radio and locking eyes with you in the rearview mirror. You gave him a soft smile, though the gravity of this being your first time in a vehicle since your accident weighed heavy on you.
“A little overwhelmed.”
You responded meekly and his eyes softened even more than their usual pouty, puppy-dog-like state, though you didn't even think that was possible prior to this moment.
“I know, sweetheart. Can you make it three more minutes? We’re about to pull in.”
He questioned you and you nodded in return, giving him a kind smile. Though he noticed it didn’t meet your eyes. Exactly three minutes and thirty-seven seconds later Rafe opened the door on the passenger side of the backseat. Your legs are met with the crisp autumn air and for the first time you realize that though it’s only been a few weeks since your accident, the world outside of your hospital room seems to be going on without you, without a second thought about you. Rafe can see how nervous you are in the murky waters of your eyes, so he does what he does best — he provides a distraction. That’s what he hopes this day will be. He hopes this day will give you a tiny fraction of the joy you deserve to feel. He’s only seen glimpses up close, but he knows how special you are. He knows you’re too good for him and far too good for this world.
“Hello beautiful!”
He greets you emphatically and you smile wide at him.
“Hi, again.”
You giggle in response.
“Sit tight, I'll get you out in just a sec.”
He says and you nod, watching him through the small window at the rear of the truck as he lifts the wheelchair from the bed of it and returns to your line of sight again.
“You ready, pretty girl?”
He asks and you nod, scooting toward him with the small amount of muscle on your right side that’s still able to help you in your movements.
“You’re doing so good, sweetheart.”
He coos, coaching you until you’ve slid your bottom to the middle of the bench of the back seat. Your breathing is labored when you’ve reached this point and his eyes soften at the sight. You’re trying so hard and you’re stronger than he could ever be, mentally and emotionally. So, again, he does what he does best – this time, swooping in to aid you.
“That’s good, you did so good. Let me do the rest, yeah?”
You nod in response to his question, though you know that it’s not really a question and that when it boils down to it, he would’ve done it anyways. His torso leans in to the inside of the truck and he places one hand under your knees and one around your shoulders.
“Put your hands around my neck, okay?”
He commands softly and you give him the reassurance he’s looking for with a nod. Before you know it, you’re airborne, leaning your head onto his shoulder for the brief moment before he places you down into the wheelchair. He kneeled down, adjusting the leg rest so your injured leg could sit comfortably, grabbing the pillow from the car and placing it underneath your injured limb. He stood and you smiled at him.
“Thank you, Rafe. You’re kinder than I deserve.”
You muttered, eyes casting down to where your hands rested on your legs. You were surprised as his thumb and forefinger met your chin, pulling your eyes toward his.
“One of these days, I'll prove to you that you deserve far more than I can give.”
He says, your chin still between his fingers, his thumb moving up to stroke your plump bottom limp. You look at him doe-eyed, struck with wonder at the fact that he’s saying it to you and not to some other beautiful girl, one more deserving of the kind of love that he has to offer. He’s so pretty, you think. Pretty eyes, pretty smile – pretty boy – your mind spouts out at your gazing.
“Let’s have a good day, yeah?”
He asks, bringing you back to earth. Your breath is caught in your throat, so you only manage a nod in response to him.
“Almost forgot.”
He said smiling, leaning into the passenger seat of his truck and grabbing a blanket before placing it over your legs and closing the doors of his vehicle. You were thankful.
—
The surprise couldn’t have been better, in fact, you’re glad you hadn’t known prior to this moment that Rafe had scored two tickets for a tour at a museum you’d only dreamt of seeing in person; the metropolitan museum of art. You’d meant to go so many times since you moved to New York, but sadly between your busy schedule as a teacher and your inability to time manage, you’d never made it. But, this – now, you’d managed it with a hunky boy at your side. You felt like you were dreaming as Rafe pushed you up the handicapped ramp. You admired the columns at the front of the entrance, its architecture something you’d seen photographs of for so many years, yet now, you realized they were truly larger than life, larger than you’d ever imagined. It made you feel uniquely human to gawk at the stone as it stood and as you smiled to yourself in reverence and awe at this day just as it began, Rafe knew he had done the right thing by bringing you here. You needed this — you needed joy.
You’d made it through admission quickly, the foyer of the building as beautiful as you had dreamed of. There were people bustling all around you as Rafe pushed you even further and further into the room. Your senses were almost lost underneath the bucket of chaos, but you looked up and for the first time saw the beautiful architecture of the foyer ceiling. It was something that again, you’d seen hundreds of photos of, but the beauty of seeing it in person was truly overwhelming. You were jolted from the thought as Rafe parked your wheelchair near the center of the room where a giant plant played the role of a centerpiece and benches sat just below it. He locked the wheels before kneeling in front of you.
“How’s your leg feeling, sweetheart? Do you need any medicine before we get started?”
He questioned, removing the blanket from your left leg to take a look at the swelling himself.
“The pain isn’t bad, I think the ice helped on the way over.”
You spoke, giving him a hopeful smile.
“How about some ibuprofen, then? Just to keep the swelling down.”
He questioned, his doctor mind working in overdrive even outside of the hospital to ensure your safety.
“Okay.”
You agreed, accepting the pills from his hand as he reached into the bag Jenny packed that lay draped across the bars of your chair and pulled out a water bottle for you to swallow it down with. You swallowed them smoothly, watching as Rafe gave your leg one more once over and fluffed the pillow it sat on before covering you with the blanket once again.
“Good girl. You ready?”
He asked, his smile meeting his eyes in excitement and you nodded, hoping you’d never forget what he looked like when he did that. When all this was over and you were no longer under his care, you hoped you’d never forget that smile.
—
Rafe pushed your chair forward into the first exhibit in your path, Van Gogh’s Cypresses, with a map of the museum in his hand. It was quiet between the two of you, uncertainty looming in the air of what the day would bring, if you’d let the other in. You didn’t make much of it, observing your surroundings as you were rolled forward. You’d heard about this exhibit coming to the museum in the form of an email newsletter from the met and you’d thought about coming so many times, but again, time got away from you. You were sure never to let that happen again once you were healed and the initial fear of living dissipated just as you knew it would. Your eyes traced over the painting; the stark contrast of the evergreen trees the exhibit was based around paired with the night sky sent chills down your spine.
“Do you know what Van Gogh found so remarkable about the cypress trees?”
You finally questioned him, breaking the silence as he parked your chair in front of a giant painting. Your eyes traced over it; the stark contrast of the evergreen trees the exhibit was based around paired with the night sky sent chills down your spine.
“Why don’t you tell me?”
He smirked, locking your wheels and kneeling down beside you, seeing it through your lens. He wanted to see everything through your lens. He looked to you with a pure smile, one you were sure that only he was capable of and you aren’t sure but you felt immense peace.
“Well, he found the trees beautiful and eternal and ethereal and much like most artists do, he looked to other art. But, noticed that no one had captured them quite the way he saw them. So, he set out on a mission to do it himself.”
He smiled at your analysis, knowing that your years of reading and teaching must’ve led you to this conclusion.
“I didn’t know that, thank you for teaching me something new.”
He replied and as sweet as his words were, you couldn’t help the shrill of embarrassment crawl up your spine, its force so strong, your body seemed to curl into itself where you sat.
“Hey, what’s wrong?”
He asked, afraid you were in more pain than you were letting on. For a brief moment, he wondered if this outing was a mistake, if he was hurting you, rather than helping you for his own selfish motives.
“Nothing, I'm sorry if I sounded like a know-it-all. I have a bad habit of doing that. I’m sure you know lots about Van Gogh, you have a fucking medical degree for crying out loud.”
You stuttered out quickly and he couldn’t help but smile at how flustered you’d become.
“Hey — look at me.”
His voice is soft as he commands your attention and you follow his instructions.
“I might have a medical degree, but I don't know everything. In fact, there’s a lot I don’t fucking know – like an absurd amount. If it doesn’t have to do with bones or a joint, it’s actually quite foreign to me.”
He uttered, watching as your eyes moved back and forth over his face, like you were committing it to memory. Little did he know, you were.
“Listen to me. You and I, we’re both separate people with faults and quirks. We met by the brutality of the universe, right? I want you to forget about all of that. Today, I want you to forget about the accident, forget about our relationship, forget about the hospital. Today, we’re a girl and a guy at a museum. I know the contents of your medical chart, but I want to know what makes you laugh so hard that your stomach hurts, y/n. I want to know you. So, I’m gonna walk away for five minutes and when I come back, we’re going to start over, yeah?”
His words made a lump form in your throat, its width as big as a beach ball.
“Yeah.”
You whispered in response. You didn’t hear Rafe walk away but you knew that he had by the quiet amidst you in a room full of chatting people. The next thing that gave him away was the fact that his presence gave you a warmth that you couldn’t describe and in the short stent that he was away from you, you longed for it. You wondered if he’d come back at all.
“So, do you come here often?”
Your favorite voice boomed over your shoulder.
“U-Uh no, it’s actually my first time. You?”
You replied, a smile hiding behind your plump lips.
“I come about once a year. Can’t say I’ve ever seen the likes of your beauty here, though.”
He spoke and you giggled at the cheesy one-liner that he pulled out of his docket. For the first time since he’d returned you met his blue eyes.
“Are your pick-up lines that bad with everyone or am I getting special treatment?”
You asked him, chuckling. He wore a sly grin at your giggle. It was the first time he’d really seen you laugh and he was sure that he wanted it to keep happening – for forever.
“You’re getting celebrity treatment. I pulled that one from the deluxe package.”
You laugh boisterously in unison.
“So – very cheesy stranger, can I ask who you are?”
You questioned him.
“That’s a loaded question, pretty girl. But, here goes nothing. I’m the guy who smiles when it rains, thunderstorms help me sleep. Libraries are my safe haven. I went to college at UNC and moved here with my college sweetheart. My favorite author is John Steinbeck. I’m a doctor, I came from a broken home, my sister is my best friend, I hate anchovies, and I broke my hip in a motorcycle accident when I was fifteen.”
He replied.
“You had me at the anchovies. Nice to meet you, very-cute stranger boy. I’m y/n and I feel like I've known you my whole life.”
The words you uttered were like music to his ears.
“Tell me, y/n, who are you?”
He asks and your mouth tips up in a smirk.
“I'll tell you what, show me around your favorite places here and I'll tell you everything you want to know.”
You said with a smirk.
“Negotiator and briber. I love it. You got yourself a deal, beautiful girl.”
He replied, placing a chaste kiss on your forehead, pushing your chair away from the Van Gogh exhibit and into the direction of art that was unknown to you. You were sure that no matter what, you never wanted to forget this moment, this purity, this bliss — no hospital rooms or surgeries or medicine, just you and the man you were falling in love with. Together.
—
taglist:
as always, if you'd like to be added to or removed from the taglist, please shoot me an ask or comment on this post so i can keep track <3
Hope you have a praise kink baby because you has gotten a lot here today ❤️😉
you looked up and into his blue eyes. At that moment, you were convinced there was no better way to wake up. You could imagine looking into his eyes in a tiny apartment close to the hospital; coffee filling your nostrils as the beans were rung of their juices and into the cup he’d be sure to bring to your bedside, because he’s just that kind of a guy. - aghh this is actually the dream she is so me fake scenarios in your head even before you are dating haha
had spent your last thirty bucks on the dress, hopeful it would make a good impression. All that you knew about him was that he was a doctor – you didn’t know where or even what his name was, you just hoped he wasn’t an asshole like the last three had been. You were lonely and ready to find your person; your fertility clock ticking away by the day. You were supposed to fall in love in college and get married and do all the things that you’re supposed to do when that happens. But, instead, some dumb boy named Storm had broken your heart freshman year and you hadn’t let anyone in since. What kind of a person names their son Storm, anyways? Though you thought maybe they knew the Storm he’d turn into – maybe they knew who he’d become. You should’ve taken it as an omen; for him, for your life, for the way the 18 wheeler collided with your car, for the way the blood soaked the pale blue satin of your dress, and for the way the first time you locked eyes with Rafe you knew you loved him. - I feel like when you highlight the whole text in your text book bc everything seems important when I read this bc I want to comment on everything. First take: You write like an angel this is beautiful, the storm part how you use the word in different ways and it makes so much sense and it is so beautiful! Take 2: I see myself so much in her omg the love she can give but heartbreak makes everything so complicated, why not me and should I give up? One more first date and they are never good anyway 😭 and take 3 omg yes we are in love with rafe he is a baby boy and yes please I need him
“Of course it is, you know I gotta take care of my girl.” - AGHHH THIS OMG and her favorite foods, he knows her and agh that is everything
“Sweet girl, if there’s anyone you can trust – it’s him.” - Jenny is amazing and yes you can trust him ofc, and they are going out agh. And the whole rafe will kill me haha love it
He says, your chin still between his fingers, his thumb moving up to stroke your plump bottom limp. You look at him doe-eyed, struck with wonder at the fact that he’s saying it to you and not to some other beautiful girl, one more deserving of the kind of love that he has to offer. He’s so pretty, you think. Pretty eyes, pretty smile – pretty boy – your mind spouts out at your gazing. - Them omg stop, this is everything!!
“Good girl. You ready?” - touché yes now we are reaching for my praise kink instead 🫣
Today, we’re a girl and a guy at a museum. I know the contents of your medical chart, but I want to know what makes you laugh so hard that your stomach hurts, y/n. I want to know you. So, I’m gonna walk away for five minutes and when I come back, we’re going to start over, yeah?” - he is the absolute sweetest omg the way he is just perfect and need to know everything about her 😭😍
just you and the man you were falling in love with. Together. - 😍😍😍
Baby this chapter was everything I dreamed off, amazing and as always painfully beautifully written 🫶🏼 you are the brightest star and I am so privileged to be your friend ❤️
a tragic car accident looks like it'll be the end for you, but dr. cameron is here to make sure that doesn't happen.
✯ warnings:
mature themes, mentions of anxiety, nostalgia, and fear, car accident, death of a spouse (not rafe or y/n), major surgery, injuries, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, etc.
✯ a/n:
nothing!! please don't engage if you have a hard time with any of these topics <3 this was origianlly posted on my old blog @/illicitfixations, @/lovelornanonymity back in 2021/2022 and i have rewritten + reshared it here :) the next chapter i spent literally so much time on and i can't wait to share it!!!!
—
Running. Rafe had always been inherently good at running. It was noticed for the first time in middle school by the track and field coach when he outran a bully. The talent was nurtured and he went on to be a track star in high school and college. It was a good skill for a surgeon to have in the midst of an emergency, the ability to run with dexterity and endurance and speed. At least that’s what Molly had convinced him of so she could ogle at his muscular thighs and chest at every track meet. God, did he miss her. The one thing he never thought he would have to run to is his girl, his wife, his molly, as she was wheeled into the emergency room. The words of the surgeon on her case played over and over in Rafe’s head – no matter where he was or what he was doing – the flashback of that night, of those words in that setting – about his wife – it was all too much, no matter how long she had been gone.
“Rafe, I’m so sorry. We did everything we could.”
Dr. Charles Richardson looked his colleague, his friend, in the eye with a somber gaze. It felt to Rafe like the look of someone after they had spent an entire afternoon reading Edgar Allen Poe. The look in Charles’ eye made him angry. It wasn’t because of the circumstances, it was because he knew what the look meant – it meant his wife was gone. It meant Charles was looking at him the way he looks at a patient’s family and Rafe, while he was her family, he knew the speech, he knew the words, he knew this world. He knew it was all bullshit.
“Don’t bullshit me, Charles. If my wife is dead, tell me she’s dead.”
He growled.
“I’m sorry, Rafe.”
“You keep saying you’re sorry – say the fucking words. I need to hear you say the words. Not ‘I did everything I could’, not ‘I'm so sorry.’ You say the fucking words you coward.”
“She’s gone, buddy. She’s gone.”
—
Rafe was jolted out of his thoughts, out of the memory he had been encapsulated in for the last two years as you stirred awake. He sat there watching you, the steady rise and fall of your chest doing little to comfort him, though he knew it meant you were alive. His eyes moved from your sweet face to your leg that he had previously operated on, a black hinged brace lined it where it sat elevated against three pillows in an attempt to keep the swelling minimal. You looked so fragile, yet incredibly ethereal and soft and he couldn’t help but stare. It was impossible not to stare at something, someone that beautiful. To grow up that beautiful — he wondered what that was like as he sat there ogling at you. He pondered if he should let himself go there with you, if he could let himself feel the rush and the high of serotonin and dopamine that he clinically knew would be released if he was to allow himself to love again. Was he selfish for wanting to be happy? Was he chaos on two feet? Was he damnation on earth the way that he had convinced himself he was? What would become of you, if you were to love him? Would you wind up just like her?
He forced his overactive brain to stop spinning once he noticed your eyes were open and he brushed his fingers against your forehead.
“Hey, sweet girl. Welcome back.”
He cooed, his fingers running up and down the bridge of your nose and across your eyebrows in the shape of a “T”.
“Hi.”
You croaked out, throat dry and begging for a source of water. Rafe obliged, rising to his feet as his brain recognized your desperation, hearing the desert within your windpipe and bringing the water up to your lips with a straw.
“Suck slowly, okay?”
He instructed, running his fingers through your hair slowly and you followed his directions.
“How’s the pain?”
He questioned with a softness that you were convinced was less about him being a good doctor and more about him just being who he was – just being a good person.
“Like a five maybe. You’re still here?”
You lied, not wanting to see the life leave his blue eyes when you told him otherwise.
“That’s good. Yeah, I just wanted to sit with you for a while. Is that okay?”
He smiled softly, questioning you.
“Of course it is. Can I go back to sleep? I mean, will you be here when I wake up if I do?”
You questioned, a curiosity looming in your features, unsure why you would’ve stayed up if it meant more time with him.
“Absolutely, sweet girl. I’ll always be here.”
He smiled, sitting next to you, rubbing soothing circles into the top of your head as you drifted off to sleep. You weren’t sure what it was, but you knew that he was telling the truth, that somehow he’d always be around.
—
You looked up at Rafe as he moved around you, fluffing the pillows behind your head, you sat at an incline in the bed again, trying desperately to reach the tv remote that sat on the table beside you. He had been talking – asking you questions about your day, as if you had done anything except lay here, again. But, all you could think about is the fact that your favorite movie was coming on tv in less than thirty minutes and it was a simple pleasure you were going to indulge yourself in. You shut your eyes tight, squeezing them against your eyelashes with the force of a thousand suns. Rafe must’ve noticed the pained expression on your face because before you could even ride out the wave of discomfort, he had the remote in his hands and he was kneeling in front of you, squatting on the balls of his feet.
“Hey, sweet girl, can you look at me?”
He asked kindly and when the torment had subsided enough you blinked your eyes open, his piercing blue ones staring back into yours.
“What is it, from 1-10? and don’t bullshit me this time.”
His voice was soft but stern and you knew he meant business.
“It’s a nine.”
You said, grunting exasperatedly, frustrated and tired and sick – of – this.
“Shit – sweetheart you can’t let it get that bad before you tell me and why are you putting yourself in more pain by reaching for this? You could’ve asked me, I’m right here.”
He blurted out his questions in a brash way, waving the remote control in the air.
“My favorite movie is coming on, I just –, sorry, I’m just –”
A whimper escaped your lips as you stuttered and Rafe moved toward you again, bringing your chin in between his thumb and pointer finger, tilting your head up towards him as he took in the tears that lined your eyes. His heart broke at the sight.
“Hey – I know, sweetheart. You don’t have to be sorry, I know you’re frustrated.”
“How do you know how I feel?”
You questioned him with a hint of attitude. In your mind, it didn’t matter how many people he had operated on with your same injuries, he hadn’t lived it and because of that fact, he didn’t understand.
“Let me guess, you’re frustrated, annoyed, tired, sad and really wanting a shower?”
He asked you with a light chuckle, smiling the Rafe Cameron smile as you looked up at him with bewildered eyes.
“How could you possibly know any of that?”
You questioned him, confused. Did he go through this, physically? Did this sweet, sweet man hurt the same way that you had?
“Because I’ve been where you are.”
He stated very matter-of-factly and you were confused.
“You cracked your bones in a million places, too?”
Had he been through this, too?
“No, but I’ve been in a situation that was eerily similar.”
You were silent at his declaration, wondering what situation he was referring to.
“I can’t do much for you about a shower, it’s only been three days since your surgery and with you in this much pain, I don’t want you up and moving. But I can have Jenni give you a sponge bath. Would you be up for that?”
“Yes, please. That would – be amazing.”
He nodded and gave you the Rafe Cameron smile again, leaning in and placing a kiss on your forehead. Jenni and another nurse stepped into the room with everything they needed, setting up a bucket of water, some hypoallergenic soap and a sponge on the rolling table that each hospital room came with. Once they had everything set up, Rafe stepped out, being the gentleman he was, he wanted you to have privacy and he definitely didn’t want the first time he saw you naked to be in a hospital bed.
“He’s quite dreamy, isn’t he?”
A nurse that stood beside Jenni spoke into the air and your breath faltered. Were you that obvious? If this blonde bimbo picked up it – he probably did too. How fucking embarassing. Rafe had left the room only moments ago with a promise to come check on you shortly, but you so desperately wished he would save you from this woman as she stood in front of you preparing to strip you bare and see the most intimate parts of you, though it felt like she already had.
“He’s very nice to me.”
You stated, nodding with a soft smile though your tone was a bit curt. Jenni’s pager went off, signaling another emergency in the hall.
“Shit – I'll be right back.”
She muttered, running out of the room in a hurried fashion. The other nurse, who’s name you couldn’t bring yourself to remember, looked at the door as Jenni exited through the threshold – you were sure your recollection, or lack thereof, had more to do with the meds and less to do with her and the shitty vibe she gave off. She worked diligently, pulling down the hospital gown, noting the stitches that lined your chest as she drug the sponge gently over your soft skin.
“Don’t worry, he’ll get you better and forget you ever existed. He won’t give any of us nurses the time of day. Don’t get your hopes up. Besides – look at you.”
She replied, rolling her eyes as the words left her mouth. ‘What a bitter bitch’, you thought. You bit your tongue for only a moment before deciding to fully send it – there was nothing she could do to you – you were already bedridden, recovering from surgery and would be for the next few months – there was nothing she could do to you.
“You know, maybe Rafe hasn’t given you the time of day because your personality fucking sucks, just a thought.”
You spoke nonchalantly and before she could respond, she laid down the sponge she was using to bathe you with on top of your chest, took off her gloves and dug her long, manicured finger into the incision site Rafe had just stitched up on your hip. Your yelp was so loud Rafe heard it from the hallway, where he stood at the nurse’s station, finishing off your surgical notes. Suddenly, the hammering in his chest overtook him and he rushed into your room to see if you were experiencing post-operative pain or if something else was wrong. What he never expected to see was a nurse, finger deep into a surgical incision and you – your sweet face with tears cascading down it as your eyes pleaded for him.
“What the fuck are you doing to her?!”
He growled, rushing to your side, pushing her to the side and grabbing gauze off the table next to your bed, immediately holding it to your hip to stop the bleeding.
“I know, baby – I know it hurts. I’m sorry, I’m gonna fix it, okay?”
He pulled the gauze away from your hip and Jenni rushed into the room, taking in the sight of your stitches that were fresh and clean and showing signs of healing only minutes ago and were now torn and bloody and frayed like the pages of an old book.
“What the fuck happened, Rafe?”
Jenni all but squealed, rummaging through drawers searching for more gauze and a suture kit.
“F-f-fingers –”
You choked out, crocodile tears rolling down your bright pink cheeks as your fists clenched the sheets beside you.
“Sweet girl, we’re gonna fix it, okay?”
“No, R-rafe!”
“What do you mean, no, sweetheart? Talk to me.”
“Can’t do it anymore, can’t keep getting fixed. I’m not a stuffed animal that you can just keep sewing back up until all the stuffing has fallen out.”
He cooed, brushing the hair away from your forehead.
“I know, baby – I know you’re tired. But, if we don’t fix it you’ll get an infection and you’ll get sick okay? We have to fix it, sweet girl.”
You reluctantly nodded, letting him work, continuing to wail as each stitch was placed into your hip again, the skin irritated and sore and only adding to the discomfort that raked through your entire body. It was almost like Rafe knew when your breaths picked up and the weight of your new reality had fallen on your chest because he started asking questions – questions that you hadn’t answered – questions that no one had bothered to ask you in years.
“So, what did you do before – I mean, I can only assume you don’t frequent hospitals very often? Unless you’re one of those crazy people. Are you one of those crazy people?”
You threw your hand up to your mouth and let out a giggle.
“You’re cute when you ramble, Rafe.”
His lips turned up into a smirk. Your pain filled haze had you simply not caring about flirting with the man in front of you.
“Oh, so you think I’m cute?”
He questioned, eyebrows furrowed, laughing as he checked the fluids that hung behind your bed. Your face was red, realizing what you had previously said to him once his words had reached your ears. You wished the bed you laid in would swallow you whole, scared to look this beautiful man in the eye and face rejection. There’s no way the feeling is reciprocated.
You stuttered out awkwardly and he simply giggled at the way you were shrinking into yourself, embarrassed at the compliment you had given him.
“Sweetheart, don’t be embarrassed. It’s okay, I’m flattered.”
He smiled – the Rafe Cameron smile – rubbing circles into your hand as you took in the words that left his lips.
He’s flattered. That’s what you say when you’re trying to let someone down easily. He doesn’t reciprocate and how could he? Just look at you.
The assault on your heart at the mercy of your brain was interrupted quickly by Rafe’s voice again.
“So, what did you do before? For work, I mean. You never answered my question.”
“Okay, nosey. I’m – well – I was a high school English teacher.”
You replied, with a sad smile.
“What made you want to teach?”
He asked, interested in everything that involved you.
“My younger sister, Ella has special needs and she wasn’t always treated fairly in the classroom; so I just wanted to make sure no child ever experienced that again.”
“You know what that tells me?”
He asked, a sly smile dancing across his face.
“What?”
You wondered out loud.
“It tells me that you’re sweet and a good person and that you could’ve never deserved for this to happen.”
“Thank you, Rafe –”
He looked at you as tears fell down your face.
“Sweetheart, what can I do?”
You didn’t answer him and your breaths only seem to quicken by the second and before Rafe could even think, he had kicked off his shoes and climbed in the bed with you, wrapping his arms around you tightly, one hand draping across your waist and one around the back of your head, pooling your hair in his hands.
“Shh. It’s okay, baby. I’m so sorry.”
He cooed.
“I-I’m never gonna b-be the same am I? I-I’ll n-never b-be able to teach again.”
You whimpered, crying into his chest.
“Hey, sweet girl, don’t say that. I’m gonna do everything in my power to make sure you teach again, okay? I won’t let anyone take that away from you, ever.”
His voice was soft and tender, afraid the wrong octave might rip you in half and you’d cease to exist right then and there.
“Do you understand? I won’t let that happen.”
This time he spoke with more force and you nodded your head reluctantly, unsure if you really believed him or not.
“Tell me something to make me forget, Rafe – What made you want to become a doctor?”
You questioned and he was uncomfortable, but the pleading look in your eyes made him answer anyway.
“It’s not a story full of glory, sweetheart. How about I tell you a better one, huh? How’s that sound?”
He questioned, his hands working against your scalp like his life depended on it.
“That sounds good.”
You replied, somberly, wondering what kind of hurt this beautiful, sweet human being had experienced to make him so closed off about his own life.
“Well – once upon a time, there was this doctor and he was a real asshole until this pretty girl walked into the hospital he worked at.”
“What did she look like?”
You questioned with curiosity-stricken features. He smiled at you, how he was the only one who got to see you like this. He couldn’t help but feel honored.
“I think she looked a lot like you, sweetheart.”
Your breath is caught in your throat at the fact that those words were coming from him. His hand motions continue against your scalp as you listen to his words, the euphoria that’s felt from the action is something you aren’t sure you’ve ever felt in your entire life.
“I’m glad I found you, Rafe.”
You mutter sleepily, listening to him continue the details of the stranger's beauty, who in his words, looked similar to you, before you promptly fell asleep.
“And I’m glad I found you, angel.”
He whispers, continuing to rub soothing circles into your hair, letting you cuddle deeper into him and for the first time Rafe had felt warmth in someone that wasn’t Molly. He had felt warmth and goodness and it wasn’t from her and it simply scared him half to death.
—
taglist:
as always, if you'd like to be added to or removed from the taglist, please shoot me an ask or comment on this post so i can keep track <3
You looked so fragile, yet incredibly ethereal and soft and he couldn’t help but stare. It was impossible not to stare at something, someone that beautiful. To grow up that beautiful — he wondered what that was like as he sat there ogling at you. He pondered if he should let himself go there with you, if he could let himself feel the rush and the high of serotonin and dopamine that he clinically knew would be released if he was to allow himself to love again. Was he selfish for wanting to be happy? Was he chaos on two feet? Was he damnation on earth the way that he had convinced himself he was? What would become of you, if you were to love him? Would you wind up just like her? - like what is this babe!! If she is half as beautiful as the way you write she most be the most amazing girl in this universe ❣️ and rafes hurt in this, yes you deserve happiness, you both do 🥹
You questioned him, confused. Did he go through this, physically? Did this sweet, sweet man hurt the same way that you had? - sweet sweet man yes indeed. Not like she thinks but omg yes must be so hard seeing it again 😭 but they are destinet to be together I know it
“Don’t worry, he’ll get you better and forget you ever existed. He won’t give any of us nurses the time of day. Don’t get your hopes up. Besides – look at you.” - where is this bitch bedside manner? Just because he wount give you the time bc of your ugly personality 😌
“You know, maybe Rafe hasn’t given you the time of day because your personality fucking sucks, just a thought.” - hahaha we are one and the same she and I (maybe this means I will get my rafe please, hopelessly single here)
“Can’t do it anymore, can’t keep getting fixed. I’m not a stuffed animal that you can just keep sewing back up until all the stuffing has fallen out.” - aww the analogy I am sobbing poor girl 😭 that fucking bitch did not just do that to she should be fired and they should take her nursing license.
He whispers, continuing to rub soothing circles into your hair, letting you cuddle deeper into him and for the first time Rafe had felt warmth in someone that wasn’t Molly. He had felt warmth and goodness and it wasn’t from her and it simply scared him half to death - aghhh them omg I love them I need them, they are everything.
That was a lot baby, but as always thank you for your service, I love you and your mind and soul, you are amazing ❤️❤️
a tragic car accident looks like it'll be the end for you, but dr. cameron is here to make sure that doesn't happen.
✯ warnings:
mature themes, mentions of anxiety, nostalgia, and fear, car accident, death of a spouse (not rafe or y/n), major surgery, injuries, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, etc.
✯ a/n:
nothing!! please don't engage if you have a hard time with any of these topics <3 this was origianlly posted on my old blog @/illicitfixations, @/lovelornanonymity back in 2021/2022 and i have rewritten + reshared it here :)
—
You laid on your back at an incline, fluffy pillows behind your head, as bits of light peeked underneath the door of your hospital room. You wanted to roll over, but every time you moved it felt like every nerve ending in your body was being ripped out of its designated home only to be replaced, rolled up, and smashed with the weight of a thousand bricks. You were in more pain than you had felt in your entire life and these days it seemed you felt like this more than you didn’t. You were brought out of your thoughts by the shadow of footsteps breaking up the light that peered in underneath your door and you smiled – Dr. Rafe Cameron reporting for duty.
“How’s my favorite patient this morning?”
Rafe asked, taking in your sleepy form as you attempted to turn over, hearing the sound of his voice and his knock on the mahogany door. You turned your head and smiled slightly at the tall drink of water of a man that stood at the end of your bed as he picked up your chart and Jenni moved to monitor your vitals. You’d only been earthside again for a week but he hadn’t left your side since except to sleep and eat and for the life of you, you couldn’t understand why.
“What time is it?”
You grumbled, eyes squinting but letting out a giggle as Jenni moved behind Rafe to open the blinds letting the sunlight beam in and assault your corneas.
“It’s bright and early, sleepy head. We’re sitting at a whopping six am.”
He responded with a chuckle as you shielded your eyes with your hands from the sun that now infiltrated the room. He was kind enough to take a seat in front of the window, his muscles casting a shadow over your eyes. You were thankful. Rafe had been up since 4 – making rounds and going over the logistics of your upcoming surgery, again. Even though it was an operation he had performed a hundred times over, he needed to know that this would go smoothly – images of you coding on the table during the last operation you had filled his brain. What if it happens again, what if he can’t save you this time? He continued to ask himself as the anxiety wrapped its ropes around his rapidly beating heart like a lasso.
“What are you doing waking me up so early?”
You rolled your eyes, faking annoyance at the gorgeous man in front of you – you couldn’t kid yourself, you counted down the seconds and hours until you’d see him again. You knew how pathetic that was and you were sure that he probably had a beautiful wife and a million other patients that were fawning over him every second of the day, but you couldn’t help it – Rafe felt warm and peaceful and he felt like home even though you had only known him for a few days.
“I know, I know – I’m sorry. But, I wanted to come talk to you about your injuries and just what your treatment plan is going to look like from here on out. Before we do that though, how’s your pain?”
Rafe sat parallel to you with his hand on your head, concern written over his features though keeping a bright smile plastered on his face. You were convinced no one else could smile like that, you called it the Rafe Cameron smile – because it only belonged to him and you hoped incessantly that you would one day too. You answered him, pushing those thoughts away as quickly as they had come.
“About an 8.”
You stated in a near whisper, grimacing as you tried to shift in the bed. Looking up at his brutishly charming face, you melted as you felt his hands stroke the hair above your forehead. The truth was that you had been awake since the moment Rafe had stepped foot in the hospital, maybe even before, it was like your body knew when he wasn’t near though you barely knew each other at all. It could’ve been that or the immense amounts of pain the left side of your skeleton was in. Every few hours, just like clockwork, the pulsating throb of your broken bones made itself known again. Rafe holds out his hand to you as he helps you adjust where you sit in your bed, moving to press the correct button and moving the top of the bed further to allow you to sit up just a bit more.
“I know it hurts, sweet girl. I’m sorry. Jenni, let’s give her a dose of morphine.”
He spoke nonchalantly but with a tenderness that you had never heard and you were thankful, he made you feel like you weren't just another patient – like he actually gave a shit. You were sure he really did. You reached for his other hand, giving it a thankful squeeze and he smiled - the Rafe Cameron smile.
Jenni moves around Rafe effortlessly; fast-paced enough to get the job done but at such a level of ease you’re sure she’s barely moved. She makes it look easy the way she cares for you. Rafe lets go of your hand and it seems like he’s unwilling, the softness in his eyes gives him away. But, he can’t hold your hand all day, he has to care for you too. Though, he wishes more than anything he could do it all simultaneously. He fiddles with your blood pressure cuff, igniting the machine and ordering it to take a new read.
“So, you're gonna tell me why I've got this thing sticking out of my leg?”
Rafe chuckled at your remark, glancing down at the metal frame protruding from the sides of your thigh and lower leg.
“Sassy in the mornings, huh?”
He joked back at you and you cast your eyes down to your lap.
“Sorry, not much of a morning person.”
You replied half-heartedly, eyes locked on your hands as they lay in your lap against the white blanket that covered your non-injured leg. The truth was sleep had evaded you ever since you came off the ventilator and the neck brace had been removed; the extra mobility and breathing on your own had left every fiber of your being hurting; even to the tips of your hair. You weren’t mad to be awake – well, you were – but more than anything you were frustrated beyond belief at the pain and the entirety of the situation you’d found yourself in. Though, Rafe and Jenni definitely seemed to be a silver lining. The other part that has made you so angry was that there is a lot of your life from before that you can’t remember. It’s left a hole much larger than you can really fathom deep within your chest.
“You’re okay, sweet girl.”
He stated, smiling ear to ear as he continued rubbing your hair away from your forehead.
“We can start with the easy stuff – as I'm sure you already know, and I can tell you do by how much pain you’re in, your left side was mostly affected in the accident. Your femur and tibia were the main sources of injury, they were both broken in multiple places so we took you into emergency surgery and put pins in it and connected it to these two frames. It was all pretty fast action so we could get your internal bleeding under control and other emergent injuries under control.”
He stated in a way that you could understand and not get lost in the sterilization of it all.
“How long will I be in this frame? Is it forever? Surely it can’t be.”
You questioned, feigning humor and Rafe grabbed your hand, gently stroking it as some kind of form of comfort.
“No, it’s not forever, I promise. You’ll be having another surgery in a couple of days that’ll remove the hardware and insert screws and a plate into both your femur and tibia. We will also be focusing on fixing your pelvis and kneecap, which were both badly broken, as well.”
He replied.
“All of this will be done at the same time?”
You asked, eyebrows furrowed together in confusion as your eyes moved upward and met Rafe’s blue ones. He nodded his head yes.
“It’ll take close to nine hours.”
He replied.
“Gosh, Rafe, I’m sorry to make you work for that long. That must be difficult to do.”
You squeezed his hand and gave him those sweet, sad, kiss me eyes. His heart almost exploded at the thought that you were in for such a long recovery, yet cared about how long he was working. This girl is an angel from heaven, he thought.
“It is difficult, sweet girl, I won’t lie. But, luckily for you, I’m the best there is.”
He said, throwing a wink your way. He watched as blush rose to your cheeks and you smiled shyly.
“Will this be the last one? Surgery – I mean.”
You questioned him after a beat of silence with a hopeful look in your eyes. It crushed him to disappoint you, but the damage to your hips and leg was extensive and it would take more than one surgery to fix it.
“No, unfortunately not, sweet girl. I’m sorry. You have some torn ligaments in your leg, as well so you’ll need at least one more, depending how bad the breaks are when I get in there today. I’ll do my best to make sure it’s only one more, okay? You have my word.”
You frowned at the thought that you just had more and more surgery you needed to undergo. Truthfully you were still fuzzy on all the logistics of your injuries, but you knew they were bad. Rafe had briefly explained to you a couple of days after you woke up that your injuries were extensive, you just didn’t know this is what he had meant when he said it. So, here you were, three days later, getting prepped to be miserable for the next six to eight weeks. Rafe took in the frown that sat on your features and it made his chest hurt – you, here with only a doctor and a nurse you barely knew to provide you comfort – he couldn’t imagine how you felt, how scared you must be, how lonely and sad it must be. How could your family leave you here like this? Didn’t they care at all? He noticed the way you fiddled with your fingers and the way your eyes were locked on your hands – you were nervous. He would be too if he was in your shoes, surgery number two ahead of him, more bones broken than not, unable to leave the bed on his own, and no one you cared about in sight. He only hoped to provide you with half of the comfort that you gave him.
“Hey, look at me. It’s okay, I promise. I know it’s daunting and scary, but I’m going to get you through this, okay?”
His voice soothed you and so did his words – this stranger whom you knew virtually nothing about outside of his profession, made you feel safe and cared for and loved more than any of your family ever had. You were almost thankful they didn’t show or they didn’t care, even though it did make you feel unloved and pathetic.
“We got this, okay?”
He spoke again, voice lingering on the question – needing you to tell him that you were in this with him – that you trusted him to help guide you through it all.
“Okay. Are there other injuries that need surgery or is it just the leg?”
You asked and he put his hand in yours, giving it a squeeze.
“No – you had some internal bleeding and damage to your abdomen, but we operated and fixed those issues. You also had some head trauma, broken ribs, and whiplash which were all treated when you came in. You’ll start physical therapy in the next few days to get some of your mobility back. The sooner we can get you moving, the better.”
You simply nodded in his direction, giving him a sweet smile as he brought your hand into both of his, giving it another reassuring squeeze before exiting your room. Your heart longed for him the second he disappeared from your line of sight.
-
“You ready, sweet girl?”
Jenni asked you before pulling up the guard rails and giving you a hair net to place on your hair. You simply nodded your head in response, nerves racking your body as she began rolling you out of the room and down the corridors of the hallway.
It all seemed like a blur – the doors that lined the hallway, the rolling of the wheels underneath the bed you laid on, squeaking incessantly. You could tell the bed was heavy as the nurses struggled turning it around the corner as you sat outside the operating room. They pushed you inside, transferring you to the operating table and beginning to move quickly around you stretching your arms out by your sides and you could feel the pit in your stomach building, the knot, the fire, the ache of the anxiety that began to swirl within you caused your breath to quicken. The nurses continued to probe you, trying to get you as comfortable as possible and the feeling of their gloved hands on your skin was too much. Jenni watched as your lip trembled.
“N-no, n-no – stop!”
Suddenly, Rafe’s blue eyes came into your view as he stood over you, a scrub cap with teal blue and white cartoon sharks on his head and seafoam green scrubs covering his body. Tears rolled out of the corners of your eyes and he placed his gloved hand over your cheek.
“y/n – sweetheart?”
He questioned, softly as he stood over you.
“I-I’m scared, Rafe.”
Your voice trembled and it broke his heart into a million pieces.
“I know, sweetheart. But, I’m right here. I’m gonna be with you the whole time, okay?”
He reassured you.
“What if it doesn’t work?”
You questioned.
“It’ll work, I promise. I do this kind of surgery all the time. I’ll put the bones back together and then we just have to wait for them to heal, okay?”
He squeezed your hand again, wishing he could unhook you from every machine you were connected to and pull you in for the world’s longest hug. One where he’d rub the back of your head and pool your hair into his hands. But, he couldn’t. He was on OR time and everyone was gathered here so he could fix the broken parts of you and that’s what he intended to do – fix you. You simply nodded and let the medical team around you work diligently as they prepared to put you to sleep.
-
It was late afternoon when you woke up, the sun still bright as it peered through your window. You slowly opened your eyes to see none other than the sweet dreamy doctor you were so fond of sitting next to you in the plastic chair by your bedside.
“Rafe?”
You questioned, wondering if it was really him sitting there or if it was a dream. Your eyes felt heavy, so much so that you could barely hold them open.
“Welcome back, sleepy head.”
He stated with a soft smile as he stood from the chair and made his way over to you, sitting on the bed with his feet on the floor and his torso turned towards you. He brought his hands up towards your face, brushing the baby hairs that had escaped your braids away from your forehead. You stared at him for a moment taking in the baby blue’s that sat in front of you before letting out a sigh of relief.
“Hey.”
You whispered.
“How did it go?”
You questioned, voice raspy. Rafe leaned over to the table beside you, grabbing a styrofoam cup filled with ice chips and a plastic spoon.
“Here you go sweetheart, this will help your throat.”
He said, motioning the spoon into the cup and pooling a piece of ice onto the plastic cutlery before moving the spoon to your lips and letting you suck on it for a moment continuing on to answer your question. He smiled a bit as you let out another sigh of relief, the ice soothing the dryness of your lips and mouth.
“Everything went great, sweet girl. Your surgeon says your leg is gonna heal up perfectly.”
He whispered reassuringly, giving you a wink and putting his free hand in yours and giving it a squeeze, rubbing soothing circles into the skin on the back of your palm where your IV sat.
“You think he’s right? I heard he’s a little cocky.”
You uttered and The Rafe Cameron smile broke out of its prison again and you could’ve sworn you melted right there.
“He is a cocky little shit, isn’t he?”
He agreed, laughing along with you for a moment before he convinced you to rest again. Your eyes drifted closed to the hum of his laugh and for a moment things didn’t seem so bad.
—
taglist:
as always, if you'd like to be added to or removed from the taglist, please shoot me an ask or comment on this post so i can keep track <3
“What are you doing waking me up so early?” - the banter is everything 🥹
His voice soothed you and so did his words – this stranger whom you knew virtually nothing about outside of his profession, made you feel safe and cared for and loved more than any of your family ever had. You were almost thankful they didn’t show or they didn’t care, even though it did make you feel unloved and pathetic. - as rafe would say sweet girl 😭 I feel so sorry for her baby you are loved
But, he couldn’t. He was on OR time and everyone was gathered here so he could fix the broken parts of you and that’s what he intended to do – fix you. - baby boy you are the sweetest and the fact that they really both need each other..
“He is a cocky little shit, isn’t he?” - and again the banter stop 😍😍
T you are the love of my life, your writing is next level wow wow wow ❣️❣️
a tragic car accident looks like it'll be the end for you, but dr. cameron is here to make sure that doesn't happen.
✯ warnings:
mature themes, mentions of anxiety, nostalgia, and fear, car accident, death of a spouse (not rafe or y/n), major surgery, injuries, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, etc.
✯ a/n:
nothing!! please don't engage if you have a hard time with any of these topics <3 this was origianlly posted on my old blog @/illicitfixations, @/lovelornanonymity back in 2021/2022 and i have rewritten + reshared it here :)
Rafe sat next to your bedside, he’s always wondered why so many patients' families had complained about the green plastic chairs he had again found himself in. He never understood their issue with a piece of furniture until he was in this moment with his Molly. He could feel its rigidity against his back as he sat watching the ventilator you were connected to send swooshes of air into your lungs. It was single handedly keeping you alive. The moment that you were in right now, with no one but a doctor you barely knew at your bedside. The hiss and tick of the machine had become background noise as he sat next to you, no longer covered by scrubs, but instead, jeans, a t-shirt, and leather jacket covered his body as he watched you live a moment that he already had. He could close his eyes and still remember it, still remember her like it was yesterday.. He wondered how he had found himself in this moment again. How he had managed to feel every ounce of emotion he had pushed down over the last two years in one measly twenty-four hour period. It wasn’t that he saw her in you, no it was different; your beauty so ethereal and unlike this world – maybe it was a twist of fate that your injuries were identical or that you had her eyes. Whatever the case, he was simply captivated by your beauty, your essence, your aura, there was something within you that he just couldn’t put his finger on.
He had finished charting hours ago and instead of going home to be alone amongst the coolness of the sheets and the photos of her that still littered his walls, he stayed beside you, holding your hand – just in case. Jenni’s words still bounced around in his exhausted brain and he knew once he sat next to you for the first time – hell – he knew the first time he looked in your eyes that he couldn’t let you be alone, that he couldn’t leave you alone. If you were going to die, he’d hold your hand and brush the hair away from your face, he’d caress your cheek and tell you how loved he knew you were, whether anyone had bothered to show up for you or not. It’s what you deserved, it’s what she deserved. The anxiety and the freshness of his gaping chest wound was ever present, but he couldn’t leave you to cross into the next life without so much as someone to wrap their hand in yours – it’s just not the kind of guy he was.
He still held out hope that you’d make it, that you’d be okay, that he could potentially get to know you or atleast the you that you would be after surviving such a traumatic event. He knew first hand that there was an afterglow when you got to the other side of something like that and he hoped he could bask in yours. He looked down at your hand – the one his was wrapped up in – as he tried to get away from the thoughts, as he tried to get away from Molly and the idea of you winding up just like she did. He noticed your nail polish, yellow with a black smiley face on the middle finger of each hand, similar to that of the Walmart mascot in the 90s. He giggled at that. Though he didn’t know much about you he knew you were bright – like sunshine to gravitate toward the color yellow and he knew you liked vintage things by the detail of your nail. He marveled at the fact that to have been involved in a crash so violent, your manicure was intact. He wondered how the universe was the product of things like that. Lost in thought again, Rafe brought your hand up to his lips, only grazing them over your cut up skin and he felt something, a twitch. Jumping backwards, he blinked violently a few times, unsure if he was imagining things. He was tired after all, the sunkenness of his eyes Sarah had mentioned still everpresent. He let go of your hand briefly, lifting his body from the green plastic in an effort to trudge to the on-call room and finally sleep. At least he’d be here if you needed him. As he rose, he felt it again – the twitch – and before another thought could cross through his tired brain, he noticed your eyes fly open and you start to fight against the ventilator, gasping for the air that was being pumped into you, your gag reflex pleading for control against the foreign object in your throat. His hands flew to your shoulder and your hair, rubbing soothing circles as he brushed your hair away from your face. You looked at him with fear in your eyes and his senses took over.
“Hey, sweet girl. I know you’re scared, but I need you to relax so I can take it out, okay? Blink once for yes and twice for no for me, okay?”
One blink. That was all he needed and suddenly all the emotions he was harboring didn’t matter, all he cared about was making sure you were safe and that you knew he would take care of you. The muscles in his chest squeezed against the walls of his heart as he watched tears fall out of the corners of your eyes.
“Okay, pretty girl. I’m gonna take the tube out. When I give you the go ahead, I’m gonna need you to give me the biggest cough you can and then I'll pull the tube right out, okay?”
He explained the process of the procedure to you at your level with kindness and care and you appreciated that, even in a state of being halfway sedated. He stood there, suctioning out as much as he could of any remaining flem and secretions that remained in your throat. His voice soothed you in a sort of deja vu kind of way and you couldn't put your finger on why this stranger gave you so much peace, so much comfort – like just being in his presence was enough to make every bad thing in your world okay again.
“Okay, sweetheart. Go ahead and give me a big cough.”
At his words, you sucked in a big breath and used all your lung power to drive a dry cough out of your throat. Simultaneously, Rafe pulled the tube from your airway, laying it on top of the napkin like material he had draped over your chest. Your first breath felt violent, it grips on to your throat like sandpaper against wood. It was uncomfortable to say the least but you were thankful to breathe on your own volition again.
“Ow”
You croaked out, letting a wince dance across your features.
“Can you tell me what hurts?”
He questioned sweetly, hands still rubbing soothing circles into your hair. You closed your eyes, leaning into his touch.
“Everything.”
You mumbled.
“I know, it’s gonna be that way for a while. Can you tell me what hurts the most?
You nodded – or attempted to, feeling plastic underneath your chin, alerting you that you were hurt, sparking a fear in you that you had never felt before.
“W-what’s wrong with me?”
You asked, reaching for the sweaty brace that your neck was encased by in an attempt to aid the burn of your throat. It felt like with every breath you took fire was coming from the depths of your belly. Rafe grabs your hands, ripping them away from the brace that encased your neck.
“Easy, sweetheart. I need you to focus, okay? You’re really hurt and your neck needs to be still right now. I’ll explain everything but I need you to calm down, okay? Can you do that for me?”
You looked up at him, pleading for answers, but understanding that he was there to help as his pools of blue looked back at you in soft reassurance.
“Let’s get you some medicine and we’ll chat about everything, okay? My name is Rafe.”
Rafe – Rafe as in Rafe Cameron? You wondered. Suddenly it all made sense, the dreamy doctor that you thought you imagined stood in front of you, with a kind disposition and sweet words and a beautiful chiseled jaw. If you were a praying woman, you’d say you were in heaven. But, it was in fact quite the opposite as you continued to feel the pain course through your body with every miniscule movement.
“O-okay.”
Rafe gave you a soft smile and brought the walkie up to his mouth, speaking into it.
“Jenni, I need morphine, zofran, fluids, and lorazepam in 293.”
His voice was soothing, even as he spoke medical words that were nonsensical to laymen's ears.
“You got it boss, on my way.”
The woman’s voice spoke back. She sounded sweet in the same way that Rafe did in the emergency room and it gave you hope that she was as kind as he was.
“How are you feeling, sweet girl?”
You attempted to turn your head in the direction of her voice, but were met by Rafe’s strong hands pushing your shoulders back against the pillows.
“Try not to move until I give you this medicine, sweetheart.”
He spoke reassuringly, rubbing his thumb across your cheek.
“O-okay. I’m okay.”
You whispered out and gave her a small smile.
“There she is, a pretty smile on a pretty girl.”
He spoke and moved forward, watching as Jenni came into your peripheral vision. Rafe took your hand in his again and rubbed soothing circles into it while Jenni inserted the medicine into your IV. You grimaced at the burning feeling of the medicine as it entered your veins.
“Now, let’s get you feeling better, yeah?”
He spoke kindly and blush rose to your cheeks.
taglist:
as always, if you'd like to be added to or removed from the taglist, please shoot me an ask or comment on this post so i can keep track <3
your beauty so ethereal and unlike this world – maybe it was a twist of fate that your injuries were identical or that you had her eyes. Whatever the case, he was simply captivated by your beauty, your essence, your aura, there was something within you that he just couldn’t put his finger on. - like I said poetry wtf 🥹
“There she is, a pretty smile on a pretty girl.” - the way all the pain would disappear if he told me this 😅
a tragic car accident looks like it'll be the end for you, but dr. cameron is here to make sure that doesn't happen.
✯ warnings:
mature themes, mentions of anxiety, nostalgia, and fear, car accident, death of a spouse (not rafe or y/n), major surgery, injuries, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, etc.
✯ a/n:
nothing!! please don't engage if you have a hard time with any of these topics <3 this was origianlly posted on my old blog @/illicitfixations, @/lovelornanonymity back in 2021/2022 and i have rewritten + reshared it here :)
It only took minutes to get you into the operating room, Rafe had made sure of that – doctors on stand by as you were rolled quickly inside. He continued compressions as his colleagues worked around you, attaching a ventilator quickly to your lungs and cords and wires to your chest as your beautiful satin pale blue dress was cut away from your body and its arch nemesis cerulean blue surgical garb was draped over the different sections of your body that you were bleeding from. Rafe darted from the scene, rushing into the scrub room. He washed his hands quickly, but dutifully in his pursuit to get back to you. Jenni, his favorite nurse, helped him into his surgical clothes quickly, sliding his arms through the long blue sleeves and tying the back of it. It was funny, really, the way it resembled the structure of a hospital gown; one in the same with his patients in that way. As he made his way beside you, his gloved hand found its home against your hair and he leaned down to whisper in your ear.
“You hold on for me, sweetheart, okay? I’m going to make it all better. I just need you to fight a little bit.”
He said softly as he stood back upright and watched Jenni work the portable x-ray machine across you in search of any cracks amidst the shell of your body.
“What are we looking at Cameron?”
Dr. Richardson, Rafe’s long time friend and colleague asked as he looked over Jenni’s shoulders at the x-rays on the computer.
“Extensive bone damage to the left side, specifically the femur, pelvis, and kneecap. She’ll need more than one surgery. I need to stabilize her leg for now. There’s possible soft tissue damage, she’ll need an MRI later to be sure.”
He replied and Richardson nodded in his direction, understanding that Rafe meant you’d need more treatment if and when they could get you safely out of the woods.
—
Some time later, Rafe stood over your body – cold, sterile, medical instruments in his hands as he dutifully worked to put your broken bones back together. He had watched on for hours as his colleagues repaired the internal bleeding in your abdomen and your brain. His body still remained canopied in seafoam colored scrubs underneath the blue surgical garb that he was required to wear in the operating room and his feet adorned in the best tennis shoes money could buy. He had a routine for surgery and over the last two years it had become a sort of safe haven for him – it was the only place that he didn’t think about her. The routine – simple in principle – his feet viciously traveling the white floors speckled with dots of gray as he rushed patient after patient in, the dressings, the blood, the practice of the procedures he performed – it all grounded him, down to the very essence of washing the remnants from his body when the performance was over. Wash, rinse, repeat, wash, rinse, repeat – he melodically spoke over himself after every discontinuation of the processes, whether the outcome was good or bad. He whispered reassurances to every person – the same ones he had whispered to you – though he never knew which way it would go. They went into the operating room, never knowing if they’d come out. The routine of it all had saved him, but all of that was washed away, like water under the bridge, as your blood trickled off of his hands. He closed his eyes for a moment and wondered if the outcome would be the same, if after all his efforts, would you end up just like she did. Would he be unable to save you, just like he couldn’t save her?
“Paddles now! She’s crashing!”
Dr. Richardson yelled, as he stood across from Rafe who was tending to the fractures you had sustained from the accident.
“Charge to 350. Clear!”
The shock sent electricity through your body, making your back arch off of the table, but still you continued to flatline. He did it again, your body responding in the same way – jerking off the table – yet, still, you flatlined and for Rafe it was visceral. The sound of the machine echoing that horrible constant beep, signaling that there was no life connected to it – it gutted him.
“It may be time to call it, guys.”
Dr. Richardson muttered in defeat to which Rafe found repulsive.
“Absolutely not!”
Rafe’s voice boomed across your body, as he took over. No one seemed to notice the crack in it as he did his best to keep his tears at bay. Dr. Richardson simply stepped aside, he knew your injuries were too bad, there was no way you were going to survive. But, he also knew that Rafe had to feel like he did everything he possibly could. He had to know that history didn’t repeat itself because of him this time.
“Charge to 400! Clear!”
Rafe was the one to send the electricity through your body this time and as he waited for your heart to start, the way that he knew it would, the seconds felt like hours and just when he was about to give up — the miniscule beat sent a series of beeps across the screen.
“There you go, pretty girl. I knew you could do it.”
He whispered above you, before getting back to his position and continuing his work on your bones, giving Dr. Richardson room to patch up the bleeding of your internal organs.
-
Rafe stood outside of your hospital room, looking in on you every so often, he was pretending to do his nightly charting at the nurses station and every time he put his pen to the paper something stopped him. You were all he could think about, the way your eyes pleaded for his help in the emergency department, the way you said his name when you asked him if you were going to die, and where in the hell your family must be – didn’t they care? He finished off the chart he was doing and when he opened up the next file folder, your name appeared. Y/N Y/L/N. ‘Pretty name for a pretty girl,’ he thought. He wasn’t distracted as he listed your injuries, described the incident, and signed off on the surgery he had completed. He wasn’t distracted because this was about you.
“How’s she doing?”
Rafe looked up from your chart to the voice of his scrub nurse, Jennifer, who had helped operate on you. Everyone in the operating room knew that Rafe had grown attached to you, though, unsure why, he had never met you before, when he looked into your eyes, something was just different. Jenni knew if he didn’t save you he wouldn’t live with himself, he couldn’t live himself. So, she was really asking more for his sake than her own.
“She’s doing okay, right now. Not out of the woods yet. We’ll know more when she wakes up. Did you find any family?”
He questioned, never removing his eyes from the document held within the folder that he was writing on.
“Mother in Georgia, but can’t come up because of ‘business obligations’. Real mom of the year type.”
Jenni said, rolling her eyes.
“Her daughter could die and she’s worried about business obligations?”
He asked incredulously.
“You know the type well, Rafe.”
He scoffed at the thought of his father doing the exact same thing if it were him who was in this situation.
“I don’t know, Rafe. Nothing surprises me anymore. So, give me a run down.”
She replied.
“Broken ribs, torn acl, whiplash, shattered kneecap, broken pelvis, concussion, broken femur, internal bleeding, brain bleed – you name it, she’s got it. We’ve got her in a medically induced coma to give her body some time to repair itself and if she wakes up, we’ll go back in and do more surgery. Truth be told – she’s a fighter, I don't know how she’s survived this long.”
He said with an exasperated sigh, knowing the inevitable was coming, simply preparing himself for it. Your injuries – they were a lot to heal from and he knew that firsthand.
“I believe she has Dr. Rafe Cameron to thank for that.”
She gave him a soft smile and he returned it.
“You’re a good friend, Jenni and you’re way too kind.”
He reached out, placing his palm on her shoulder and gave her a pat on her back.
“I mean it, Rafe. They would’ve called time of death if you hadn’t spoken up. You should go in there and sit with her, it won’t hurt anything.”
She nodded her head toward the door of your room and he shrugged.
“It’s not really my place.”
He spoke, but it came out barely audible, almost a whisper. She heard him and she knew what he meant.
“Maybe not, but she has nobody coming for her and I know you feel connected to her. Don’t try to fight it to protect yourself. If she dies, it’ll hurt and it’ll be sad. But, if she doesn't, do you really want to live with the fact that you could’ve been holding her hand when she woke up? Do you really want her to wake up to no one being there? She’s not Molly, Rafe and I know you better than that.”
Jenni left Rafe to think about what she had said while she tended to another patient. She came out of the room to find Rafe, evidently making a decision and she watched him from afar as he gingerly entered the threshold of your room, sitting down in the plastic chair next to you. She smiled to herself, knowing that he was in deep, deeper than even he was aware of.
—
masterlist:
as always, if you'd like to be added to or removed from the taglist, please shoot me an ask or comment on this post so i can keep track <3
Trying to catchiga up here!! 😅As always so freaking good, so talented 🫶🏼
“He whispered reassurances to every person – the same ones he had whispered to you – though he never knew which way it would go. They went into the operating room, never knowing if they’d come out. The routine of it all had saved him, but all of that was washed away, like water under the bridge, as your blood trickled off of his hands. He closed his eyes for a moment and wondered if the outcome would be the same, if after all his efforts, would you end up just like she did. Would he be unable to save you, just like he couldn’t save her? “ this so painfully beautiful, your words are poetry baby and I love you ❣️
a tragic car accident looks like it'll be the end for you, but dr. cameron is here to make sure that doesn't happen.
✯ warnings:
mature themes, mentions of anxiety, nostalgia, and fear, car accident, death of a spouse (not rafe or y/n), major surgery, injuries, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, etc.
✯ a/n:
nothing!! please don't engage if you have a hard time with any of these topics <3 this was origianlly posted on my old blog @/illicitfixations, @/lovelornanonymity back in 2021/2022 and i have rewritten + reshared it here :)
—
Sarah doesn't have lunch often with her brother, but she does today, placing the responsibility of taking care of him on herself, as she always does. Her latest manifestation of this fact is you – her best friend since her college days. He doesn’t know it, but she’s coming to him with a proposition; your sweetness and his intelligence – she knows they’d meld together like a puzzle and that’s precisely why she’s set up a date between the two of you for this evening. She enters the hospital cafeteria slowly, spotting him from across the gigantic space. His shoulders are slumped and she clocks a limp in his step, instantly sure he’s been on his feet for far too long. She smiles softly as they lock eyes and notices his are far more sunken in than she’d like them to be; in fact, they almost resemble the dark black holes of a skull missing its skin and as he makes his way feverishly through the cafeteria line, she wonders if he’s okay.
“Rafe – you look like you haven’t eaten in six days.”
She scolded as the older Cameron made his way to the table and sat his tray down across from her.
“I eat.”
He grunted in response, rolling his blue orbs into the back of his head at her incessant need to pick him apart in the form of worry. This was why he didn’t return to North Carolina after college, after all. Though he couldn’t in part blame it all on his baby sister, the discontent of his father and the enthralling energy of the city had wooed him and his bride.
“Yeah, okay, hot shot.”
She replied, laughing, throwing a french fry in his direction.
“You’re gonna be mad but I've promised your hand to someone for the evening.”
She said, giggling.
“Dammit, Sarah!”
He replied, the huff that escaped like that of an agitated dog.
“Come on, big brother! Please – she’s my sweet friend from college and she’s nice and shy and she –”
“I don’t care. I’m not going.”
Rafe interjected aggressively.
“Well, too fucking bad. I already told her you agreed and I’d really hate it if you stood her up. It was like pulling teeth to get her to agree to even give you a chance.”
“Too. Fucking. Bad.”
He gritted out.
“No – don’t play with me, I know you. Rafe Cameron is a lot of things, but he isn’t cruel and it took a lot of convincing for her to come out anyways, so please.”
Squinting her eyes in annoyance and shaking her head, she waged her war with him blatantly, tired of his bullshit only five minutes into the conversation in only a way that he could ignite.
“Tell that to Molly. She thinks I am.”
He whispered.
“No she didn’t – doesn’t.”
She caught herself, two years later still not used to talking about her sister-in-law in past tense.
“Just go – please. Get out of this hospital and those fucking ugly scrubs.”
She pleaded, her soft blue eyes always something he had to give into.
“Fine, Sarah, I’ll fucking go.”
He growled, jerking his plate closer to him as he began munching on the chicken tenders that sat in front of him.
—
Rafe was dreading this date, he didn’t know you or what you were even like and let’s be honest, he hasn’t dated in literal years, hasn’t even given it a thought. After Molly departed from him, he ate, slept, and breathed life in the hospital, too afraid to be in his home alone – too afraid the silence and lack of love would swallow him home; death by a thousand cuts. He felt like that was probably normal for the situation he had found himself in; divorce in the form of death. He stared at himself in the mirror of the locker room, being sure he was ready as his hand tousled through his unruly hair.
“Sarah’s right – I do look like shit.”
He muttered, suddenly wondering what this unknown woman would think of him.
He made his way down the linoleum lined hallway and out of the hospital door a few moments later, the familiar red shine of ambulance lights just out of his peripheral and the screech of the alarm coming from the rig coming to a stop. He watched carefully as they pulled a young woman from the back, her limbs splinted and blood covering her. He wasn't sure what it was; fate or an uneasy stomach, these days he hardly had the capacity to tell the difference. But, whatever the force behind it, she pulled him toward her and as he got close, the date he had planned for suddenly slipped his mind.
—
Everything hurt – that was the first thing your brain registered as you pulled your eyes open, the sound of a siren and the beat of your heart blaring simultaneously in your ears. The siren was close, you could tell, but you seemed so distant from it at the same time, so far away and fleeting. You closed your eyes, the darkness overcoming you. It only felt like they had been closed for five seconds, but you were sure it had been longer as you heard the sound of a man’s voice and felt wind around you, signaling your brain that you were moving by the sound of rickety wheels beneath you. The man sounded handsome and kind, his voice deep as it bellowed in the air around you.
“What do we got?”
He asked with urgency, looking pointedly at the paramedics, a team of doctors surrounding him.
“25 year old female, car accident. She went through the windshield – crush injuries, concussion, internal bleeding – she’s barely hanging on.”
He gingerly nodded at the words of the paramedic and brought a pen light from his pocket, pulling your eyelids back and shining it into them. A groan escaped your lips at the intrusion.
“Sweetheart, can you hear me?”
His voice penetrated your ears and for some reason unbeknownst to you, your brain pulled your eyes open, fighting to get to whoever the voice belonged. As you took in the blue eyes that stood over you, you registered who the voice belonged to – sounds and words you could barely register coming from his mouth again.
“I’m Dr. Rafe Cameron, I’m gonna take care of you, okay?”
He spoke, sliding his hand in yours, giving you a kind smile.
“Can you squeeze my hand, for me?”
Your senses weren’t intact, numbness infiltrated your being but you could feel his calloused hand as it slipped into yours and with all the energy that remained in your body, you squeezed his hand weakly. He smiled – bright and breathtakingly beautiful, teeth so perfectly in line that you were sure he had orthodontic work at some point. You noticed the crinkles by his eyes as his lips parted and his lips turned up. You suddenly regretted not shaving your legs this morning, taking in his handsomely sculpted jaw as he turned his head sideways, stretching his hands across you. You were unsure what was happening until you felt him unhooking the straps that you now realized were draped across your body, securing you to the bed you laid on.
“Move her on three – one, two, three.”
He chanted out, voice bellowing as his words controlled the move of every person in the room. You weren’t sure what kind of doctor Rafe was, but you knew he was important, that he was a leader, as every nurse and bystander operated under his sole instruction. You closed your eyes as the hands of the people around you lifted you from one bed to another, the jostling of your body breaking through the heavy cloud of numbness and what started as a whimper but quickly turned into a full-fledged bloody murder scream escaped your lips.
“Easy, sweetheart. I know it hurts.”
His hands made their way to your hair, pushing the blood-stained strands away from your forehead. His touch was gentle and calming, you had never been touched by a doctor like this, you thought to yourself.
“R-Rafe?”
You croaked out, eyes pleading.
“Hmm?”
He questioned with all his attention on you. His blue eyes raked over your form, studying your face, taking in the distress and the pain that laced it.
“Gonna die?”
You questioned, mumbling, incoherently and before he could even respond your eyes rolled into the back of your head, your back arching off the bed as you your body shook into a fit of convulsions.
“She’s crashing!”
One of the nurses yelled out.
“We’ve got to get her to the OR now, get me a neuro consult and page Dr. Richardson, I have no doubt in my mind she’s hemorrhaging.”
As soon as he muttered out the words, Rafe was straddling you on the gurney, legs on either side of your hips as his palms laid flat against your chest, fingers interlocking with each other as he violently, urgently pressed up and down in an attempt to restart your heart.
“Not today, sweet girl. Not today.”
He whispered, continuing chest compressions as the nurses and doctors wheeled the gurney the two of you were on into the operating room.
—
masterlist:
as always, if you'd like to be added to or removed from the taglist, please shoot me an ask or comment on this post so i can keep track <3
This bitch thinking about the legs not being shaved when she's literally dying will never not send me crying🤣 But YESSS I'm so happy my babies are back! Dr Rafe is so dreamy 🤭❤️
a tragic car accident looks like it'll be the end for you, but dr. cameron is here to make sure that doesn't happen.
✯ warnings:
mature themes, mentions of anxiety, nostalgia, and fear, car accident, death of a spouse (not rafe or y/n), major surgery, injuries, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, etc.
✯ a/n:
nothing!! please don't engage if you have a hard time with any of these topics <3 this was origianlly posted on my old blog @/illicitfixations, @/lovelornanonymity back in 2021/2022 and i have rewritten + reshared it here :)
—
Sarah doesn't have lunch often with her brother, but she does today, placing the responsibility of taking care of him on herself, as she always does. Her latest manifestation of this fact is you – her best friend since her college days. He doesn’t know it, but she’s coming to him with a proposition; your sweetness and his intelligence – she knows they’d meld together like a puzzle and that’s precisely why she’s set up a date between the two of you for this evening. She enters the hospital cafeteria slowly, spotting him from across the gigantic space. His shoulders are slumped and she clocks a limp in his step, instantly sure he’s been on his feet for far too long. She smiles softly as they lock eyes and notices his are far more sunken in than she’d like them to be; in fact, they almost resemble the dark black holes of a skull missing its skin and as he makes his way feverishly through the cafeteria line, she wonders if he’s okay.
“Rafe – you look like you haven’t eaten in six days.”
She scolded as the older Cameron made his way to the table and sat his tray down across from her.
“I eat.”
He grunted in response, rolling his blue orbs into the back of his head at her incessant need to pick him apart in the form of worry. This was why he didn’t return to North Carolina after college, after all. Though he couldn’t in part blame it all on his baby sister, the discontent of his father and the enthralling energy of the city had wooed him and his bride.
“Yeah, okay, hot shot.”
She replied, laughing, throwing a french fry in his direction.
“You’re gonna be mad but I've promised your hand to someone for the evening.”
She said, giggling.
“Dammit, Sarah!”
He replied, the huff that escaped like that of an agitated dog.
“Come on, big brother! Please – she’s my sweet friend from college and she’s nice and shy and she –”
“I don’t care. I’m not going.”
Rafe interjected aggressively.
“Well, too fucking bad. I already told her you agreed and I’d really hate it if you stood her up. It was like pulling teeth to get her to agree to even give you a chance.”
“Too. Fucking. Bad.”
He gritted out.
“No – don’t play with me, I know you. Rafe Cameron is a lot of things, but he isn’t cruel and it took a lot of convincing for her to come out anyways, so please.”
Squinting her eyes in annoyance and shaking her head, she waged her war with him blatantly, tired of his bullshit only five minutes into the conversation in only a way that he could ignite.
“Tell that to Molly. She thinks I am.”
He whispered.
“No she didn’t – doesn’t.”
She caught herself, two years later still not used to talking about her sister-in-law in past tense.
“Just go – please. Get out of this hospital and those fucking ugly scrubs.”
She pleaded, her soft blue eyes always something he had to give into.
“Fine, Sarah, I’ll fucking go.”
He growled, jerking his plate closer to him as he began munching on the chicken tenders that sat in front of him.
—
Rafe was dreading this date, he didn’t know you or what you were even like and let’s be honest, he hasn’t dated in literal years, hasn’t even given it a thought. After Molly departed from him, he ate, slept, and breathed life in the hospital, too afraid to be in his home alone – too afraid the silence and lack of love would swallow him home; death by a thousand cuts. He felt like that was probably normal for the situation he had found himself in; divorce in the form of death. He stared at himself in the mirror of the locker room, being sure he was ready as his hand tousled through his unruly hair.
“Sarah’s right – I do look like shit.”
He muttered, suddenly wondering what this unknown woman would think of him.
He made his way down the linoleum lined hallway and out of the hospital door a few moments later, the familiar red shine of ambulance lights just out of his peripheral and the screech of the alarm coming from the rig coming to a stop. He watched carefully as they pulled a young woman from the back, her limbs splinted and blood covering her. He wasn't sure what it was; fate or an uneasy stomach, these days he hardly had the capacity to tell the difference. But, whatever the force behind it, she pulled him toward her and as he got close, the date he had planned for suddenly slipped his mind.
—
Everything hurt – that was the first thing your brain registered as you pulled your eyes open, the sound of a siren and the beat of your heart blaring simultaneously in your ears. The siren was close, you could tell, but you seemed so distant from it at the same time, so far away and fleeting. You closed your eyes, the darkness overcoming you. It only felt like they had been closed for five seconds, but you were sure it had been longer as you heard the sound of a man’s voice and felt wind around you, signaling your brain that you were moving by the sound of rickety wheels beneath you. The man sounded handsome and kind, his voice deep as it bellowed in the air around you.
“What do we got?”
He asked with urgency, looking pointedly at the paramedics, a team of doctors surrounding him.
“25 year old female, car accident. She went through the windshield – crush injuries, concussion, internal bleeding – she’s barely hanging on.”
He gingerly nodded at the words of the paramedic and brought a pen light from his pocket, pulling your eyelids back and shining it into them. A groan escaped your lips at the intrusion.
“Sweetheart, can you hear me?”
His voice penetrated your ears and for some reason unbeknownst to you, your brain pulled your eyes open, fighting to get to whoever the voice belonged. As you took in the blue eyes that stood over you, you registered who the voice belonged to – sounds and words you could barely register coming from his mouth again.
“I’m Dr. Rafe Cameron, I’m gonna take care of you, okay?”
He spoke, sliding his hand in yours, giving you a kind smile.
“Can you squeeze my hand, for me?”
Your senses weren’t intact, numbness infiltrated your being but you could feel his calloused hand as it slipped into yours and with all the energy that remained in your body, you squeezed his hand weakly. He smiled – bright and breathtakingly beautiful, teeth so perfectly in line that you were sure he had orthodontic work at some point. You noticed the crinkles by his eyes as his lips parted and his lips turned up. You suddenly regretted not shaving your legs this morning, taking in his handsomely sculpted jaw as he turned his head sideways, stretching his hands across you. You were unsure what was happening until you felt him unhooking the straps that you now realized were draped across your body, securing you to the bed you laid on.
“Move her on three – one, two, three.”
He chanted out, voice bellowing as his words controlled the move of every person in the room. You weren’t sure what kind of doctor Rafe was, but you knew he was important, that he was a leader, as every nurse and bystander operated under his sole instruction. You closed your eyes as the hands of the people around you lifted you from one bed to another, the jostling of your body breaking through the heavy cloud of numbness and what started as a whimper but quickly turned into a full-fledged bloody murder scream escaped your lips.
“Easy, sweetheart. I know it hurts.”
His hands made their way to your hair, pushing the blood-stained strands away from your forehead. His touch was gentle and calming, you had never been touched by a doctor like this, you thought to yourself.
“R-Rafe?”
You croaked out, eyes pleading.
“Hmm?”
He questioned with all his attention on you. His blue eyes raked over your form, studying your face, taking in the distress and the pain that laced it.
“Gonna die?”
You questioned, mumbling, incoherently and before he could even respond your eyes rolled into the back of your head, your back arching off the bed as you your body shook into a fit of convulsions.
“She’s crashing!”
One of the nurses yelled out.
“We’ve got to get her to the OR now, get me a neuro consult and page Dr. Richardson, I have no doubt in my mind she’s hemorrhaging.”
As soon as he muttered out the words, Rafe was straddling you on the gurney, legs on either side of your hips as his palms laid flat against your chest, fingers interlocking with each other as he violently, urgently pressed up and down in an attempt to restart your heart.
“Not today, sweet girl. Not today.”
He whispered, continuing chest compressions as the nurses and doctors wheeled the gurney the two of you were on into the operating room.
—
masterlist:
as always, if you'd like to be added to or removed from the taglist, please shoot me an ask or comment on this post so i can keep track <3
school spirit and all! - soccer!frat!rafe cameron (+18) - part iii (final)
warnings: angst; smut;
word count: 6.3k (sorry)
what the fuck.
as soon as the words left his mouth, you wondered how many hits to the head soccer players got each match, because there was no way in hell rafe cameron was in love with you.
suddenly hyperaware of your nakedness, you stood up, almost falling off his bed in the process.
in a frantic scramble, you reached for your clothes, tugging on your jersey inside out and hopping around on one foot trying to pull up your shorts.
"what's wrong with you?! we just had sex!"
rafe blinked, still dazed from your anything but innocent activities.
“uh, yeah, that's kind of when these feelings hit me.”
you paused, one leg in your levis shorts, the other still “bare”, and shot him a look.
"you don't just drop the l-word after sex! are you insane!" you managed to get your shorts up and fastened, albeit a bit crookedly, “jesus christ.”
“i didn’t mean to freak you out, it just came—"
“yeah, well, maybe lead with something less dramatic” you snorted, tugging your shirt the right way around. "i mean, who does that?"
he laughed, the sound rich and warm, and for a moment you were torn between being annoyed and charmed, “i’m sorry. i meant it tho.”
“no, you didn’t.” you shot back, rolling your eyes as you fumbled with your shoelaces.
“i did,” he insisted, his voice earnest, but you were too busy wrestling with your stubborn converse to look up.
“you don't even know me."
"course i do," he looked offended, like you insulted him, "your birthday is on october 8th, and your favorite color is blue. your favorite food is picanha and kimchi ramyeon. you do this thing when you're happy where you just speak really loud, all the time and when your favorite song comes on, which is all of them really, you always squeal—"
you think you lost at least three brain cells as you stood there, jaw dropped to the floor, listening to him list all the things he knew about you.
correctly.
"y’know what sherlock?” you said suddenly, standing up, finally fully dressed but still feeling exposed. “i need some air. a lot of it.”
“what?”
“i’m leaving.”
“wait—" you hear the sound of sheets ruffling, “wait a sec—dammit!”
you didn't look back as you hurried out of his room, the sounds of the frat party thumping from downstairs, music seeping through the walls. the hallway was packed with people, and you pushed your way through the crowd, your mind racing. oh my god. everyone was seeing you leave rafe cameron’s room in a hurry. there was no way in hell you’d have a peaceful week after this.
you were almost reaching the door when you felt a hand grab your upper arm. you turned around to see rafe, now dressed in shorts and a t-shirt, “can we talk about this?”
the music was deafening, forcing you to practically scream to be heard. “what part of 'too much' don’t you get?”
“why?” he asked, his voice barely cutting through the noise. “why does it have to be too much?”
“because it is!” you shouted, then softened your tone just enough to be less harsh, “just let it go.”
he let go of your arm, but his eyes stayed locked on yours. “’m not asking you to say it back, okay?”
you felt the weight of curious eyes on you. the partygoers’ stares only made you want to leave even more. desperation clawed at your chest.
rafe closed his eyes, shaking his head slightly, “did that really feel like only sex to you?”
you bit your lip, the regret hitting you immediately, but you couldn't stop now. you needed to get out.
“yeah.” you replied, even though your heart screamed at you to take it back.
he stepped back, letting go of your arm completely. “fine. go on then," he said, his tone flat and lifeless. “just go.”
“i’m sorry—" you started again, but rafe's expression hardened. he’d never looked at you like that and you hated every single second of it.
he stepped back further, creating a physical distance, as if to save himself the hurt, “leave.”
you didn’t have to be told twice, you wanted to be anywhere but there. you couldn't delete the image of his face when you rejected him from your brain.
as soon as you were outisde, you pulled out your phone, and dialed pope's number. he picked up on the third ring, his voice laced with excitement.
"the dick was that bad? i could've sworn—”
tears were already threatening to fall as you tried to steady your voice. "pope, can you... can you pick me up?"
“huh?”
"i just... i need to get out of here," you managed, voice cracking as you wrapped an arm around yourself, feeling strangely exposed.
"shit. okay. i'll be there in ten minutes.”
you found a quiet spot near the edge of the campus, too embarrassed to sit outside rafe’s frathouse with so many people coming and going. leaning against a tree, you sank down, hugging your knees to your chest.
what the hell were you doing? had you just permanently ruined your friendship with rafe? let your little mommy issues get ahead of you?
when pope finally pulled up in his car, you climbed in wordlessly, unable to meet his eyes.
“what did he do? you want me to punch him? cause y’know i’ll call jj and we—"
you leaned your head against the cool glass of the car window, “this was such a fucking bad idea.”
he glanced at you briefly before focusing back on the road, “what? why?”
“because.”
pope's brow furrowed in confusion. "what did he say?"
"that he loved me.”
“what the fuck?!" your body jolted forward, your heart racing from the sudden stop. the motherfucker accidentally slammed the brakes.
“pope, what the hell?”
“my bad, fuck,” he muttered, regaining control of the car and easing back onto the road, “he dropped that shit on you?”
“yeah.”
“okay, that’s kinda fucked, but—“ pope glanced at you again, concern etched on his face. “look, cameron might be a lot of things, but he’s not a liar. man, he’s the complete opposite if you ask me. too fucking honest for his own good.”
“he picked the worst time to be honest,” you muttered, wiping away a tear, “i literally had his dick in my hands!”
“dude!” pope faux-gagged, “i don’t need the details, jesus.”
“sorry,” you said, half-laughing through your tears. “it’s just... how can he love me? he doesn’t even know me! that’s what’s pissing me off the most.”
that was a lie.
pope sighed, shaking his head. “i don’t know, but it sounds like he’s really into you. you spent a lot of time together, right? maybe he knows you better than you think.”
he does.
“don’t get smart on me pope howard. i need your support right now, not this sentimentalist bullshit.”
pope chuckled, “you’ve got to talk to him. y’know that, right?”
you groaned, lifting the palms of your hands to your eyes, “why?”
“because you care about him, you dumbass. that’s fucking obvious.”
“stop making sense,” you mumbled, sighing heavily. “i need you to be angry with me, pope.”
he shook his head, a small smile playing at his lips. "i'm your best friend. my job is to tell you what you need to hear, not what you want to hear.”
you slumped further into your seat, “this is your fault anyway. you planted the stupid idea in my brain.”
“me? this is all you.”
your mouth dropped, “be fucking serious. you told me to sleep with him! for sports!”
“yeah, okay, i’ll take the blame but…”
“but?” you narrowed your eyes in warning, “but what?”
he shrugged innocently, “you never listened to me up to that point. i didn’t think you’d do it. that’s gotta mean something.”
“stop making me think,” you muttered under your breath, letting your head fall back against the seat. “i just want to forget this whole night happened.”
“maybe you just need some time to figure out how you feel.”
“i don’t feel anything,” you lied, staring out the window at the passing lights. “he’s just rafe cameron.”
pope sighed again, the kind of sigh that said he didn’t believe you for a second. “whatever you say."”
he dropped you off at your dorm, waiting until you were inside before driving away. you made your way to your room, collapsing onto your bed. why did you feel like such a terrible person?
you grabbed your phone and scrolled through your contacts, stopping at rafe’s name. your thumb hovered over the call button before you shook your head, tossing the phone aside.
you needed time. time to think, time to breathe, and time to figure out what the hell you wanted.
the next morning, you woke up with a headache and a sense of unease that settled deep in your chest. you dragged yourself out of bed. pope had texted you, a simple “hope you’re okay <3” that made you smile despite everything. you quickly replied, assuring him you were fine, even if you didn’t fully believe it.
you weren’t.
not when your first class of the day was with rafe. but you could do it.
you walked into class just in time, like you always did, only this time you were dreading the inevitable awkwardness of being sat next to rafe.
you hadn’t thought this through. he usually got here before you, real heavy on being on time for everything he did. you tried to keep your eyes locked on the professor, who was gathering the material for class, but you still took small peeks towards the door, expecting to see him stroll in at any given moment.
except he never did. as the lecture progressed, he never showed up.
when the professor eventually asked about his whereabouts, kelce, his friend who sat a few rows behind you, raised his hand casually.
“rafe’s not feeling well today,” kelce spoke up, his tone nonchalant. he glanced over at you briefly, a knowing look in his eyes that made your stomach twist.
oh great, so now you were the witch of the wicked west to all his friends.
the professor nodded sympathetically. “alright, thank you for letting me know, kelce. make sure he gets the notes from today’s lecture.”
kelce nodded in acknowledgment, and the class moved on, but your mind was racing. rafe skipping class wasn’t like him. the timing felt deliberate, almost as if he was avoiding you after last night.
as the lecture continued, you realized rafe wouldn’t be the only one needing notes. all you’d done for two hours was scramble down a few words, none of them making any sense. you struggled to focus on the material. every glance towards the door was met with disappointment.
maybe this was serious. maybe he hated you now.
after what felt like an eternity, the class finally ended. packing up your things, you hesitated before deciding to approach kelce, who lingered near his seat. you’d only spoken to him a handful of times, mainly when you and rafe studied back at the frat house.
kelce was nice. but the look he was giving you now, was anything but.
"hey, kelce," you began, trying to sound casual.
"hey," kelce replied cautiously, eyeing you up and down.
you swallowed, suddenly feeling self-conscious under his scrutiny.
"um, is rafe okay? is he sick?”
he nodded slowly, his gaze unwavering, “the flu. got it last night."
"l-last night?”
“yup.”
“oh.”
kelce's brows furrowed slightly, “look, i don’t know what happened. but, he’s…not doing okay.”
your stomach sank. it was clear rafe was avoiding you, and the guilt gnawed at you even more. "i just... i didn't mean to..."
kelce cut you off gently, his voice softening. "that’s none of my business.”
"yeah," you murmured, feeling utterly inadequate.
"he'll come around," kelce reassured you, though his tone lacked conviction.
you nodded dumbly, unsure of what else to say. part of you wanted to apologize again, but...you’d done nothing wrong. there was no need to explain yourself.
"thanks," you managed weakly, offering a half-hearted smile.
kelce nodded in response, his expression remaining neutral. with that, you turned and hurried out of the classroom, feeling the weight of kelce's gaze on your back. the hallways felt suffocating, with whispered conversations and curious glances that only amplified your discomfort. did everyone know? was there a journal column telling everyone who got laid last night? fucking hell.
back in your dorm room, you collapsed onto your bed, burying your face in your hands. this was worse than what you’d expected. you couldn't stop seeing the image of rafe's hurt expression, his quiet insistence that he meant what he said.
your phone buzzed beside you, and you hesitated before picking it up, sighing in realief when you saw it was a text from pope.
"baaaabeeee, how did it go?"
did he really want to know the mess you'd made of things?
after a moment's hesitation, you replied with a simple, "not great. think everyone hates me lol"
pope's response was almost immediate. “shit. you wanna to talk about it?"
you bit your lip, undecided between wanting to unload everything and wanting to bury it all deep down. in the end, you settled for a brief reply. “later."
that went on for a week and three days.
you avoided rafe’s usual hangouts, keeping your head down and focusing on your classes. you still hadn’t seen him, and it was starting to drive you crazy. you needed to talk to him, but you were scared. like, shitless scared, of what he’d say, scared of what you’d feel.
it was hours later when you finally saw him again. you were in the library, buried in your notes, the ones who’d stolen from pope because you hadn’t been able to focus properly in any class and you hated that you’d let a boy have so much control over your brain, let alone a jock.
when you looked up and saw him standing at the entrance. he looked a little too good. the typical shorts hitting just above his knees, a loose sleeveless shirt that showed off his muscles way too much for your sanity, and his hair peeking out from under a snapback.
good enough to eat.
he spotted you almost immediately and then quickly turned his head to side, ignoring you.
ouch. okay, fair enough all things considered.
your heart skipped a beat. it was now or never. for a moment, you considered hiding, but you knew you couldn’t avoid him forever. taking a deep breath, you stood up and made your way over to him.
“hey,” you said softly, your heart pounding in your chest, trying to sound as casual as possible.
rafe looked up for a second, then returned his attention to the phone in his hands, “hey.”
“can we talk?” you asked.
he shrugged, and it took everything in you not to punch him in the face. “sure.”
you swallowed hard, trying to find the right words. “sorry about the other night. i-i didn’t handle it well.”
he nodded, but his gaze remained on his phone, fingers typing away. “yeah, i get it.”
you frowned, sensing that something was off. he’d never ignored you before, he wasn’t even giving you the dignity of looking at you as you spoke to him.
“are you okay?”
“fine,” he replied curtly.
before you could ask him what the fuck is problem was now, a girl approached, her smile bright, almost blinding you. she was ridiculously pretty, with long braided hair and sparkling brown eyes.
a literal doll.
she looked between you and rafe, “hi, are you ready to go?”
your heart sank as the girl slipped her arm around rafe’s arm and he finally put his stupid phone away and smiled down at her.
heavy on the ouch.
“yeah, let’s go,” rafe said, his voice softening, but then he turned to you, his expression blank again, “see you around.”
you stood there, watching them walk away feeling like a complete fucking idiot. like you were being pranked. what the hell was that? was he trying to make you jealous? or was he moving on that quickly? was there even something to move on from?
you returned to your seat, barely registering the world around you.
is that what he meant by telling you he loved you? you’ve been feeling bad over a boy who clearly only said what he said because you fucked him too good? wow.
you tried to focus on your notes, but your hands were trembling. without realizing it, you started tearing at the pages, ripping them apart. by the time you looked down, half of your notes were in shreds, scattered across the table.
“dammit,” you hissed under your breath. you gathered the torn pieces, stuffing them into your bag. there was no salvaging them now.
with a frustrated sigh, you pulled out your phone and dialed pope’s number.
“what’s up?”
“i need to get fucked up tonight.” you said bluntly, not bothering to hide the frustration you were feeling.
“buy a guy a drink first?”
you could hear him snicker at his own joke, “shut up. are there any parties?”
“yeah, heard there's a big one at the delta house. everyone’s going.”
“okay. we’re going too.”
pope sighed, “i don’t remember signing up for this.”
“shut up and pick me up at 9.”
you decided that tonight was the night to go all out. no more hiding, no more feeling sorry for yourself. you rummaged through your closet, tossing aside clothes that were too plain, too boring, or just not the vibe you were going for.
finally, you found it—the perfect outfit, and possibly the sluttiest thing you proudly owned.
you slipped into a sleek, black leather mini skirt that hugged your curves perfectly, hitting just the right spot on your thighs. you paired it with a cropped, red satin top that showed just enough skin to be daring but not over the top. the top had a deep v-neckline, accentuating your collarbones and drawing attention to the delicate gold necklace you wore. the outfit was completed with a pair of knee-high black boots, giving you an edge and adding a few extra inches to your height. you never wore them out, too worried that your feet would be killing you after a couple of minutes, but tonight, if you got drunk enough, you wouldn’t feel shit.
you looked at yourself in the mirror, adjusting the top and smoothing down the skirt.
your makeup was bold, different from what you usually did—a smoky eye that made your eyes pop and a deep red lipstick that matched your top perfectly. you left your hair loose, allowing it to fall in soft waves. satisfied with your look, you grabbed a small clutch and headed out.
when pope arrived to pick you up, his jaw practically hit the floor. he stared at you, eyes wide, as you strutted towards the car.
“i'm sorry—are we going to a strip club or to a party?” he blurted out.
"are you slutshaming me?"
"no, but be real for a second."
you rolled your eyes, but a small smirk played on your lips. “don’t be dramatic. just wanted to look good.”
“look good?” pope repeated, still in disbelief, “sweets, you always look good, okay? but this? you look like you’re about to rip someone’s heart out.”
“good,” you replied, sliding into the passenger seat. “that’s the goal.”
he shook his head, muttering something under his breath about needing to keep an eye on you all night.
“you’re gonna tell me what happened?”
“nothing happened.”
“right.”
the delta house was already packed when you arrived, the music thumping so loud you could feel it in your chest. you walked in with pope by your side, determined to leave all your worries at the door.
“alright, let’s get some drinks,” pope clapped his hands, rubbing them together before leading you to the makeshift bar. you could feel eyes on you as you walked through the crowd, whispers and stares following your every step. you ignored them.
so what if people knew you fucked rafe? that was your business, not theirs.
you grabbed a tequilla shot, downing it quickly and feeling the alcohol warm you up from the inside. pope handed you another, and you sipped it more slowly, trying to steady your nerves.
“easy. ‘m not holding your hair back if you throw up,” he warned, nudging you gently. “just relax and have fun. cleo’s joining later.”
“awwww, look at you being soft."
“shut up. don’t embarrass me in front of her."
you placed your hand over your heart, “i would never!”
the night wore on, the party growing louder. you danced, laughed, and mingled, trying to keep your mind off rafe and the mess you'd made of things. pope stuck by your side, and cleo, the girl of his dreams, joined you eventually, her energy infectious.
you were happy he’d found someone.
you were at the bar, grabbing another drink, when you saw rafe walk in.
your heart nearly dropped out of your ass, but you forced yourself to stay calm. he was with the same girl from the library and seeing them together made your stomach churn. he hadn't even noticed you yet, too busy talking to her.
"pope," you called, nudging him. "look who's here."
pope glanced over and sighed. "ignore him, please. we're here to have fun, remember?"
you nodded, drowning another shot, "right. fun."
it was easier said than done. every time you glanced their way, you wanted to storm up to him and punch him in that stupid perfect face. why did it bother you so much? he was just a guy. just rafe cameron. you downed another drink, hoping the alcohol would numb the emotions swirling inside you.
“goddamn mama, are you drinking yourself to death?”
jj’s presence barely phased you, “yes.”
“what’s got you so worked up?”
you groaned, not really in the mood for his antics. “nothing. just havin’ a good time.”
“yeah, right,” jj snorted, stealing your drink and taking a sip. “try again. this shit is 95% vodka by the way.”
you snatched it from his hands, “don’t drink my shit. don’t wanna talk about it.”
“alright,” he held up his hands in mock surrender, “dance with me then?”
“no.”
“pleaseee,” he begged, jutting out his bottom lip in a ridiculous pout, “c’mon.
despite your best efforts to stay frustrated, his infectious energy made you crack a smile. "fine, but just one song maybank."
jj whooped, “atta girl.”
he grabbed your hand with a mischievous grin and pulled you onto the crowded dance floor. you laughed as he twirled you around, his movements were surprisingly graceful. one time he made you faceplant the floor, so this was an improvement.
his energy has always been infectious, jj was a literal golden retriever in human from and soon enough you found yourself letting go of all the worries that had been weighing you down. you moved in sync with him, your hips swaying, and your arms following the flow of the music. jj’s playful antics kept you entertained—he'd throw in a spin or a sudden dip, making you laugh even harder.
but then, he leaned in close, his voice barely audible over the music.
“guess who's watching?"
you raised an eyebrow, trying to catch your breath between giggles.
"who?"
jj nodded towards the edge of the dance floor, where rafe stood with a group of his friends. “my number one fan. been eyeing us since we started."
“uh,” you glanced in his direction, catching rafe’s gaze briefly before he looked away, “that’s weird.”
“i know you two fucked.”
your hand instantly reached out to shove jj’s shoulder, “shut up.”
“i'm serious. you’re gonna let him watch or show him what he's missing?"
on one hand, you were furious at rafe for bringing another girl to the party so soon after whatever had happened between you two. after telling you he was in love with you. sure you were a bitch after, but that didn’t mean you didn’t care for him. on the other hand, jj’s always made you go off the rails, in a way that stoked your pride.
“fine,” you said with a defiant grin, “let’s give him a show.”
jj’s smirk widened, and without missing a beat, he spun you around and pulled you in closer, moving with even more enthusiasm than before. the music pounded around you, you couldn’t even tell the lyrics apart. every twirl, every dip, every sway of your hips was a message to rafe—whether he was watching or not—that you were done feeling sorry for yourself. as the song reached its peak, jj dipped you low, and you laughed breathlessly. you glanced towards where rafe had been standing, but he was gone.
then, without warning, from the corner of your eye, you saw a commotion erupting nearby. before you could react, the crowd around you began to murmur and part, revealing rafe. what the hell? what was this? a coming-of-age movie?
his usually friendly composed demeanor was gone, the glare in him was enough to scare anyone in his way. he stormed towards you, his eyes locked on jj. and then it clicked.
“oh for fuck's sake,” you groaned under your breath, knowing that nothing good would come out of it.
"hey, what the—" jj started, but before he could finish, rafe swung a punch at him.
yep, there it was.
the blow caught jj off guard, knocking him back a step. the music seemed to stop, or at least fade into the background as chaos erupted around you. people gasped and shouted, some pulling rafe away while others checked on jj.
you pinched the bridge of your nose in annoyance as you watched jj touch his jaw gingerly.
“what the fuck, cameron?” jj groaned, “watch the pretty face.”
rafe’s chest was heaving as he glared at the other blonde, fists typically clenched by his side, looking as if he was ready to pounce on him again. before he could take another step, you placed yourself in front of him, blocking jj’s figure sitting on the ground.
“upstairs. right now,” rafe opened his mouth to spit something, but you cut him off, “now.”
he moved silently, following you up a flight of stairs to a quieter area. you could hear his breathing from miles away, he was still worked up. you found an empty room and stepped inside, slamming the door shut behind you.
“what the hell was that?” you demanded, turning to face him.
rafe ran a hand through his face, frustration evident in his every movement. “i don’t know, okay? i just—i saw you with him, and i lost it.”
“oh, so you’re a caveman now?”
"god, you can be so fucking infuriating," rafe exploded, throwing his jacket into a corner of the room, "i saw you. touching him like... like none of this matters!"
"none of what matters?" you shot back, incredulous. "you show up with another girl after telling me you love me, and now i‘m not supposed to move on? what do you expect?"
"me?!" he jabbed a finger into his chest, his face flushed with anger. "that was my damn tutor! i wasn't trying to—shit. you think i'm trying to move on? i told you i loved you. that shit doesn’t just disappear because you don't feel the same way."
now you just felt stupid.
"your tutor?" you repeated, trying to wrap your head around the new information.
“we weren’t exactly on speaking terms and i needed help with calculus,” he muttered, “didn’t think you’d want to speak to me. and i was still sad.”
rafe shifted uncomfortably in his place, his expression now softer. you felt the sudden urge to hug him, but you didn’t.
“you said you were supposed to move on,” he says carefully eyeing you.
“i did?” you lied, suddenly feeling like the room was closing in on you, “i don’t think so.”
“you did,” he said firmly, taking a step closer to you. "i meant what i said that night. did you?”
you looked away for a moment, “rafe—“
“i don’t care if you don’t love me, you don’t have to, not right now. i just need to know if you think you can, one day.”
this wasn’t the rafe who punched jj, or the rafe who stormed through the crowd in a fit of jealousy. this was the rafe you were used to.
your ears were ringing as he closed the distance between you. his eyes searching yours, desperate for an answer. the anger had melted away, replaced by a raw, aching need. fuck, he was good.
“listen—” you started again, but this time your voice was softer, trembling. he was so close now that you could feel the heat radiating off his body, his breath mingling with yours, “can you back up? jesus. can’t think properly with you close.”
“don’t want to back up,” he whispered, his voice low and rough. he didn’t move, instead leaning in even closer, his lips brushing your ear, “yes or no?”
“cameron,” you breathed, trying to maintain some semblance of control.
but he wasn’t having it.
his hand cupped your cheek, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. “tell me you don’t feel this,” he murmured, his thumb tracing your lower lip. “tell me you don’t want me too.”
he held your face by the jaw before leaning forward on instinct to kiss you but stopped himself right before he did. eyes on his lips now, completely entranced, you leaned forward to finish what he started but he was stopping you with his thumb. you stayed close though, gaze still fixated on his bottom lip and when his eyes flicker up to yours again, they’re wild and dark.
“you gonna make me fuck it out of you?”
you couldn’t deny the way your body reacted to him, the way your pulse quickened every time he was near, “and if i do?”
he didn't answer immediately, instead closing the gap between you in a heartbeat. his lips crashed against yours, his hand sliding from your jaw to your neck, wrapping his fingers around it as he squeezed you deliciously.
all of a sudden, you were pressed against a wall, his body firm against yours, pinning you with his weight. he got a groan out of you, tilting your head as his grip tightened on your hips to keep you there, secured to him.
“this isn’t fair,” you pushed at his shoulder with your palm so that he pulled away to look at you, “you’re playing dirty.”
“so what?” he breathes out, jaw relaxed as his hips start to grind against yours.
your hand reached out to grab his shoulder for purchase when your hips started to move on their own, “oh fuck.”
rafe arched his hips sharply, teasing your clit, eliciting a gasp as you leaned your head against the wall, your chin tilting towards the ceiling. he kissed your neck, where sweat-dampened hair started to cling at your nape.
when did it get so hot in the stupid room?
“you’re—oh, gonna f-fuck me in a stranger’s room? real romantic,” you tried to sound casual, but it came out all wrong when his fingers pressed into the plush of your ass.
he laughed against your skin, the sound making you tighten your legs around him. you were glad his hands were currently busy because a single touch between your thighs would expose how wet you were.
“you can say it.”
your arms slided past his shoulders and loosely locked behind his neck, “no.”
rafe shook his head, “you asked for it.”
“rafe.”
he was poking his tongue to the inside of his cheek looking at you as if he was ready do destroy you whole, “told you i was gonna get it out of you.”
you blinked slowly, savoring the sight of his face, then your wrists, still crossed behind his neck, tugged gently, drawing him closer, craving his threat, “you’re gonna fuck me until i confess?
he lowered his head until his forehead met yours, your fingers could sense the rapid throb of his pulse beneath his jaw, his eyes tender, holding an adoration you never knew was possible. no one had ever looked at you that way.
you pulled him by the fabric of his shirt, hard enough to make him understand he needed to do something. you moaned against his lips, fingers threading through his hair as he trailed kisses down your neck, sucking and biting gently at the sensitive skin.
your skirt rode up as he rutted into you, and his hand slipped under the fabric, fingers grazing the edge of your panties, teasingly close to where you ached for him most. you gasped, arching into his touch, silently begging for more.
“rafeee,” you whimpered, “please."
he pulled back slightly, his breath ragged, eyes dark with lust. “say it,” he demanded, his fingers tracing patterns on your inner thigh, driving you crazy with anticipation.
“no.” you managed to choke out, feeling a flush of heat spread through your body.
he raised a brow, “no?”
his fingers slipped beneath the thin fabric of your panties, finding you wet and ready. he groaned at the feel of you, his thumb circling your clit with just the right amount of pressure to make you moan his name. you clung to him, hips bucking against his hand, chasing the pleasure he was giving you.
“you sure?” he murmured against your skin, his voice husky and full of promise.
you barely had time to think about changing your answer before he plunged two thick fingers inside you, curling them just right to hit that spot that made your vision blur. your back arched off the wall, your head falling back as waves of pleasure crashed over you. he pumped his fingers in and out of you, his thumb never leaving your clit, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.
“rafe, i'm—” you couldn’t even finish the sentence, your body trembling as you felt the orgasm build, ready to spill over.
but then he was pulling back just as you were about to fall over the edge. it was maddening, the way he seemed to know exactly how to bring you right to the cusp of pleasure and then deny it. you’d only fucked once before, and it felt like he’d memorize every single thing you liked. every spot that made your toes curl.
“please, let me—”
“you said no, baby” he interrupted, a mocking smile curling on his lips. “you’re not ready.”
his fingers moved with practiced precision, slow and deliberate, stoking the flames of your desire without allowing you any release. every time you felt the pleasure building to its peak, he’d ease off, bringing you back down, only to start all over again.
you clawed at his shoulders, trying to pull him closer, but he held you firm against the wall, his body a solid, unyielding barrier. “please,” you begged again, “i can’t take it.”
“oh, you can,” he scolded, lips brushing against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “and you will.”
his thumb pressed against your clit, rubbing slow, torturous circles, while his fingers thrust inside you, curling just right to hit that spot that made you see stars. you bucked against his hand, your body pleading for release, but he kept you balanced on that knife’s edge, never letting you tip over. motherfucker.
“I need to come,” you admitted, your voice cracking with desperation. “please, baby. i need to come.”
rafe’s pretty blue eyes darkened with satisfaction at your words, but he still didn’t relent.
instead, he slowed his movements even more, drawing out the pleasure until it was almost unbearable. you writhed against him, your body trembling, every nerve ending on fire.
“you want to come?” he asked, his voice a seductive purr, “that bad, huh?”
“t-this isn’t f-fair.”
“awww, sorry baby."
“fuck, fucking—"
“that’s my girl,” he murmured, his voice filled with approval. “just a lil more, yeah?”
he increased the pace of his fingers, his thumb rubbing faster against your clit, and you felt the pleasure building again, higher and higher, until you were sure you couldn’t take it anymore. but this time, he didn’t stop. this time, he pushed you right to the edge and then, finally, let you fall.
your orgasm crashed over like a train wreck, your body convulsing with the intensity of it. you screamed his name, your nails digging into his shoulders as you clung to him, riding out the waves of pleasure that seemed to go on forever. rafe held you through it, his fingers never stopping, drawing out every last bit of your release until you were a boneless, panting mess in his arms.
“good girl,” he murmured, his voice soft and filled with affection.
he kissed you tenderly, his lips a gentle contrast to the intensity of what you’d just experienced. as you came down from your high, he held you close, his fingers still inside you, his thumb gently stroking your clit, sending aftershocks of pleasure through your body.
you couldn’t find the words to answer, your mind too foggy with pleasure. instead, you just held onto him, your arms wrapped around his neck, your face buried in the crook of his shoulder.
rafe’s fingers slowly withdrew from you, leaving you feeling empty and aching for more. he lifted you gently, carrying you to the bed and laying you down with his casual tenderness. he climbed in beside you, pulling you into his arms, his body warm and solid against yours.
“i love you,” his voice was a soft caress against your ear. “i meant it.”
you looked up at him, “i know,” you whispered, leaning in to kiss him, “i think i love you too.”
pairings: ex!sweethearts; rafe x thornton!reader; rafe x sofia.
chapter warnings: mentions of pregnancy; abortion.
MASTERLIST
Topper prided himself in keeping out of people’s business.
He hadn’t noticed anything was off with you on his own, he wouldn’t have; he didn’t do the whole “emotional radar” thing.
But Rafe had practically cornered him, demanding he figure out what was going on with you.
You were his cousin, after all.
That didn’t stop the way his stomach twisted from thinking about lying to you, or how every part of him had always silently rooted for you and Rafe. He’d loved seeing you two together. You were a mess most days, for years, sure, but it was the kind of mess that made sense in a way, and Topper couldn’t help but admire it.
You were like fire and gasoline.
But that was before the break-up, before everything got fucked.
Now, you were just… distant. He never knew how to approach you without feeling like he was crossing a line, but the way you’d passed out on Rafe at the beach had him worrying in a way that was more personal than he wanted to admit.
He wasn’t a thinker, not really, he liked simple things: good waves, cold beer, and not getting roped into drama.
But there he was, standing outside your door with Korean fried chicken. He didn’t do feelings, and he didn’t do heavy conversations. Rafe owed him big for this. The conversation had been good, even when you started talking about Sarah and Ruthie.
Topper was all in—laughing along, throwing in a dumb joke here and there, the usual. It felt nice, like when you were kids, sneaking your dad’s beers and pretending you weren’t gonna get caught.
But then he had to go and ruin it by asking if you were okay.
You went all stiff, then weirdly far away, laughing it off like he’d just asked you to explain calculus or something. You mumbled something about being fine and then bolted to the bathroom before he could even follow up with his usual Topper-brand wisdom.
He sat there, feeling uncomfortable, which wasn’t a thing he usually did. You were acting off, and it was messing with him more than he wanted to admit.
Finally, he decided he needed to move, so he got up to grab some water. Except, as he walked past the counter, his hip caught a pile of your mail, and an envelope went sliding to the floor.
“Crap,” he muttered, crouching to grab it. It was just some random envelope, but there was a phone number written on the front in messy blue ink.
Topper didn’t think about it—because thinking wasn’t really his strong suit—he just whipped out his phone and typed it in. Curiosity, man. It got him every time.
He hit call. He wasn’t trying to snoop or anything. It was just one of those things you do on autopilot, right? Call a number just to see who answers? Except this time, someone did answer.
The phone rang. Once. Twice. Then:
“Women’s Health Center, how can I help you?”
His brain short-circuited, full-on panic mode. He stared at the phone like it had grown a second screen, then frantically hit the hang-up button just as the bathroom door creaked open.
You were back.
Topper, sweating for no reason, slapped the envelope back on the counter like it was about to explode and turned to you with a smile that definitely didn’t match his pounding heart.
He got out of there as soon as possible, as he drove to meet Rafe, the whole thing was still playing on a loop in his head. That phone number, the voice on the other end of the line, the way you’d acted when he’d asked if you were okay—he couldn’t stop trying to force the pieces into place.
Something was going on, he wasn't sure what, and he wasn’t exactly the guy you went to for deep insights, but he felt something was up.
When he pulled into Tanyhill, he spotted Rafe leaning against his truck, scrolling through his phone with that permanent scowl he seemed to have these days. He barely had the car in park before Rafe was pushing off the truck and heading his way.
He climbed out, doing his best to act normal—which, for him, meant cracking the same goofy grin he always did. His mind was still spinning with a dozen half-formed thoughts about that phone call, that clinic, and how the the fuck he might fit into all of it.
The only thing he knew for sure was that Rafe knowing could be catastrophic. Like, meteor-hits-earth catastrophic.
“You gotta chill,” Topper said, slamming his car door shut and giving Rafe a once-over. “Why do you look like you’re about to punch somebody?”
Rafe just glared, shoving his phone in his pocket. “What’d you find out?”
He blinked, thrown by how fast he cut to the point. “Nice to see you, too. Second, what makes you think I found out anything?”
“Don’t fuck with me, Top. Did you figure it out or not?”
“Yeah, I figured it out,” Topper shot back, crossing his arms. “But why the hell did you make me go through all this work if you already know what’s going on?”
Rafe shrugged, leaning back against the truck like this was all just some casual conversation. “Didn’t think you’d actually get it, to be honest.”
“Bro, I’m not that stupid. How did you get to the bottom of this shit? I’m still confused as fuck over here.”
Rafe’s mouth twitched like he was deciding whether to smirk or yell, hesettled on neither. “She passed out on me, remember?”
“So?” Topper shot back, frowning. “I’ve seen you pass out for, like, way less.”
“It wasn’t the same. It wasn’t a hangover or heat stroke, it was different. And she’s been weird lately, avoiding everyone.” Rafe leaned back against his truck, arms crossed, talking fast. “The hospital did blood work.”
Topper, who’d been zoning out halfway through his little doctor act, suddenly perked up.
“Wow,” he mused, dragging the word out. “Okay. So, how’d you take the news? I mean, shit, you look pretty calm for once. Didn’t think that was in your wheelhouse."
Rafe frowned, his sharp blue eyes narrowing, the crease between his brows deepening like it always did when he thought someone was wasting his time.
"The fuck are you talking about?”
Topper shrugged like this was totally normal. “I just expected you to, like…freak out or somethin'. Throw a punch, maybe.”
“Throw a punch about what?” Rafe snapped.
“About—” Topper paused, squinting at Rafe like he was trying to solve a puzzle. “Wait. What are you supposed to do?”
Rafe’s hand twitched toward his jaw, fingers brushing over the stubble there, a telltale sign that he was gearing up to lose patience. He didn’t wait for Topper to answer before shaking his head, the movement quick and irritated.
“Don’t do that, man,” he added, pointing a finger “I’ll help her figure it out. What else can I do?”
Topper tilted his head, genuinely impressed. “Damn. You really matured, huh? I mean, good for you.”
“Top, what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Rafe demanded, his tone sharp now like he was finally catching on to the fact that they weren’t on the same page.
Topper blinked, “I’m just saying you’re handling it better than I thought. Especially since she’s not—uh, showing yet.”
“Not showing what?”
“…The bump?”
He immediately realized he’d said the wrong thing, or maybe the right thing, but in the wrong tone, with the wrong level of context, and—okay, maybe he should just stop talking.
Abort mission, abort mission. Topper immediately wanted to crawl into a hole. Dude, shut up, shut up, shut up.
“What the fuck?” Rafe’s voice cracked; his eyes blazing as he stepped closer. “What bump?!”
His laugh fizzled out under Rafe’s glare, it was starting to feel less like “concerned ex-boyfriend” and more like “interrogating cop.” He felt a bead of sweat slide down the back of his neck.
Cool. Stay cool.
“Wait,” Topper held his hands up, trying to physically stop the situation from spiraling. “What do you think is wrong with her?”
His brain was spinning in a way it wasn’t built for. He was a simple guy—he liked clear problems and easy fixes. But this? This was a category-five disaster, and he was stuck right in the middle of it.
Rafe let out a sharp breath through his nose, dragging a hand through his hair, the small strands sticking up in every direction.
“I think she’s got a fucking infection! Why the hell would I think she’s pregnant?”
Topper hesitated, glancing toward the house like maybe Sarah or Wheezie might miraculously appear to save him. No such luck.
“Well fucking shit,” Topper blurted, the words tumbling out in a rush. His heart was pounding, and he was pretty sure he’d just signed his death warrant. “I—I didn’t say she’s pregnant, okay? I found this number, and it was for a women’s health center, and—fuck, man, I’m dead. I’m so dead.”
Rafe grabbed him by the collar, yanking him close. “Start talking. Now.”
“I wasn’t snooping, okay? It just—happened. I wasn’t trying to get in her business, but—”
“But what?” Rafe barked. His other hand twitched at his side, curling into a fist before flexing out again, a warning of how close Topper was to eating pavement, but Rafe wasn’t the one he feared right now.
You were going to kill him.
He could already picture the look on your face when you found out—those cold, furious eyes, the way your voice would drop, he was officially dead meat. He gulped, his mouth dry as his brain scrambled for something—anything—that wouldn’t get him killed or disowned.
“You better explain what the fuck you mean by ‘happened,’” Rafe growled, his grip tightening, giving Topper’s collar a shake, just enough to make his point clear.
Topper was done, leaving nothing but pure panic and the faint, distant sound of his voice saying things he definitely shouldn’t.
“I called the number!” Topper yelped. “I didn’t even mean to, it was—dude, she’s gonna kill me, and I mean that literally. She will.”
“Not if I kill you first,” Rafe shoved him back, his grip finally loosening, his face unreadable now, which was somehow worse than when he’d looked ready to punch him. “You’re telling me you think she’s pregnant? And you didn’t remember to tell me sooner?”
“I didn’t!” Topper said quickly, panic bubbling over. “It’s not like she’s gonna tell me this kind of stuff.”
“Did she say anything to you? Anything about seeing a doctor or being sick?”
Topper shook his head so fast it made him dizzy. “I asked if she was okay, but she just brushed it off and changed the subject.”
The silence that followed was thick and suffocating, both of them staring each other down.
“No, no way. She’s probably… I don’t fucking know, changing her pill or something.”
Topper raised an eyebrow. “Changing her pill?”
“Yeah,” Rafe said quickly, “Or—what else do they do there? Those check-up things. Maybe she’s getting one of those.”
“Uh-huh,” Topper replied, not convinced but also not dumb enough to call him out on it outright. “Sure. Just a… routine check-up?”
“Exactly,” Rafe agreed a little too loud, his tone almost defensive as he started circling again, his hands gesturing wildly. “They don’t just deal with… y'know. They do all kinds of shit. Tests, prescriptions, all that stuff. It doesn’t mean anything.”
Topper scratched the back of his neck, his expression caught between agreement and unease. “I mean, yeah, they do other stuff… but don’t you think—”
“I don’t think anything, there’s nothing to think about. She’s fine. She’s—she’s fine.” He stopped pacing, standing rigid with his hands on his hips, glaring at the ground like it had personally offended him.
“Okay,” Topper started, his tone cautious. “I get that you don’t want to jump to conclusions, but—”
“I’m not jumping to conclusions!” Rafe barked, spinning around “You’re the one making it into something it’s not! She’s not—she wouldn’t—she hasn’t told me anything,” He muttered finally, “And if she’s hiding this… from me…”
He’d never seen Rafe like this—angry, yeah, but there was something else there, either way, it wasn’t good. His glare burned into him, but for the first time, there was hesitation behind it. He wasn’t just mad—he was scared. Topper couldn’t decide if that made him feel better or worse.
“Holy shit,” Rafe muttered, gripping the side of his truck for balance. His vision going fuzzy as his heart raced like he’d just sprinted a mile. “Holy shit, what if—what if she is?”
“Dude, breathe,” Topper said, stepping closer cautiously like Rafe was a live grenade. “You don’t even—”
“Even if—if—she was, how the hell would that even—” He cut himself off, his face twisting like he couldn’t decide whether to finish the thought or abandon it entirely.
Topper didn’t need him to finish, he understood exactly what Rafe was thinking. The timeline, the breakup, the way everything had gone down between you.
Rafe’s breath hitched as he let go of the truck and paced a few steps, his hands on his hips, muttering under his breath. “No. No way. It’s not—she’d tell me, right? She’d fucking tell me.”
Images started flashing through his mind in rapid succession, each one more ridiculous and unhinged than the last. You, standing in some clinic, staring at a test with a blank expression. You, trying to figure out how to tell Rafe.
You, holding a baby—Rafe’s baby—in your arms.
“This doesn’t make any sense. We were careful. She’s just stressed, girls go through shit. Hormones or whatever. Right?”
“You’re asking me? I barely passed bio. I’m not exactly a walking textbook on—” He stopped himself, seeing the look on Rafe’s face. “I don’t know what’s going on with her, okay? But if this is what I think it is, you gotta handle it right. Don’t screw it up more than it already is.”
“And if I don’t handle it right?”
Topper forced a shaky grin, even as his stomach twisted in knots.
“Then I guess I’ll see you in hell, man. Because she’s gonna kill us both.”
Rafe’s hands went to his hips, his thumb brushing the edge of his pocket as he stared past Topper, he was trying to work out an equation that wasn’t adding up.
“She hasn’t said a word to me,” Rafe muttered, “Not at the hospital, not since. And you think…” He trailed off, dragging a hand over his face.
Topper shifted on his feet, resisting the urge to bolt to the other side of the world.
“I guess, but I swear, it wasn’t on purpose.”
Rafe shot him a look, his brows knitting together, and Topper felt like he was under a microscope. “You called a random number. How does that ‘just happen’?”
He huffed, throwing his hands up. “I was grabbing some water, and her mail fell, and there was this number—I didn’t think! I just… acted.” He groaned, his head falling back as he stared at the sky. “I didn’t mean to put two and two together, but what was I supposed to do? You’re the one who made me go digging in the first place!”
“You said she’s acting weird, and then there was that number, and…” He trailed off, scratching the back of his neck.
“Do you even understand what this means? If she’s—if there’s a—” He broke off, “I’d have to—Jesus Christ, what would I even do? I’m not—God.”
His hands gripped the edge of the truck bed so hard his knuckles turned white, the veins in his arms standing out as he glared at the ground like it had personally offended him.
“If she didn’t tell me—” His voice was low, quiet in a way that made Topper wince because he knew what came next.
“Maybe just... ask her?”
“Ask her?” he repeated, his voice disbelieving.
“Yeah, you know,” Topper said, gesturing vaguely. “Talk to her? Maybe find out what’s going on instead of losing your shit over worst-case scenarios?”
Rafe shook his head, “No. If she wanted me to know, she’d tell me. She’s... she’s dealing with her own stuff. It’s not my place to push.”
“Since when do you not push?”
“Since now,” Rafe snapped, though even he didn’t sound convinced.
“Rafe—”
“No, seriously,” Rafe interrupted, his voice rising now, the tight restraint unraveling with every word. “If she’s—if she’s going through this, if she’s pregnant, and she didn’t tell me?” He let out a bitter chuckle, “What the fuck does that say? About me.”
Topper opened his mouth, hesitated, then closed it again. This felt like a minefield, and if anyone was good at stepping on the wrong spot, it was him.
Rafe pushed off the truck, he couldn’t physically stay still. His eyes were burning as he raked a hand through his buzzed hair.
“I was—fuck. She thinks what? That I wouldn’t show up for this. She didn’t tell me because she doesn’t think I deserve to know.”
“That’s not true,” Topper said quickly, stepping closer, but Rafe’s empty laugh stopped him.
“Isn’t it?” Rafe’s voice was hollow now, all the fire drained out of him, turning his head slightly, just enough for Topper to see his throat working as he swallowed hard. “What the hell have I ever done to make her think I’d be there? That I’d—” He broke off. “Shit. I wouldn’t blame her. I can't even fucking blame her.”
“You still care about her, right?” Topper pressed, knowing he didn’t have to ask to know the answer.
Rafe’s head snapped up, “She’s the only thing I’ve ever cared about.”
He nodded slowly, “Then prove it.”
The envelope sat exactly where you’d left it, the faintest corner of folded. You froze for a second, your pulse quickening.
No. No way.
It was fine. Fine.
The number wasn’t even labeled—just digits scrawled hastily, you hadn’t touched it in days. Still, you couldn’t stop the tiny seed of panic attaching itself to your chest. There was absolutely no way Topper could’ve seen it, let alone put two and two together.
You exhaled slowly, placing it back on the counter.
He didn’t see it. He couldn’t have seen it.
Then why had he acted so… off? The pale face, the sudden excuse, the jittery energy—it was all so unlike him.
You shook your head, trying to push the thought away, a million things could’ve set him off.
Maybe Ruthie had texted him something awful, or maybe he’d remembered he had to pick up his dry cleaning before the shop closed. Knowing Topper, it was probably something stupid and unrelated to you entirely.
Still, the nagging lingered as you cleaned up the counter and threw away the napkins. You glanced at the envelope one last time, then slid it into a drawer and shut it firmly. Whatever was going on with your cousin, it couldn’t have anything to do with that. It was impossible. And yet…
You sighed, rubbing your temples.
“Pregnancy brain,” you muttered to yourself. “Making me paranoid over nothing.”
Of course that didn’t stop your heart from jumping every time the drawer creaked, or when you saw anything even remotely similar to that envelope’s color lying around the house for the entire night. Not that he’d ask, of course—Topper wasn’t the confrontational type, especially not with you. But he noticed things. And when he noticed, he worried.
The next morning you sank onto the couch, hugging a pillow to your chest. Topper was close, but he wasn’t like Sarah. She had been able to look you in the eye and say, You know I’m here, right? and mean it without any strings attached. Topper, though…
Your fingers itched toward your phone, even though it was stupid to call her so early over this. Still, you needed someone to remind you that you weren’t losing it, that Topper’s weirdness had nothing to do with anything serious.
Before you could talk yourself out of it, you found Sarah’s number, pressing the call button. She picked up on the second ring, “Hey, what’s wrong?”
You could picture her, sitting in her car or probably stretched out somewhere in Poguelandia with her feet propped up on a table, looking concerned.
“Nothing’s wrong. I just…” You trailed off, fiddling with the edge of a pillow.
“Topper’s been acting strange. And I think I’m just overthinking it, but it’s making me crazy.”
She made a sound between a hum and a laugh. “So the Topper panic spiral. That’s what we’re dealing with?”
“Basically,” you muttered, trying to keep your tone light. “But this time… He was here last night, and I thought he saw this random piece of paper I had with, you know. A number on it.” You took a shaky breath, embarrassed for how paranoid you sounded. “But he couldn’t have, right? I mean, it was buried under five other things.”
“Okay,” Sarah said slowly, clearly choosing her words. “First, let’s just say that if he did see anything, which he probably didn’t, he wouldn’t assume the worst. He’s your cousin; he knows you don’t tell him everything, and he respects that. Right?”
“Yeah… I guess.” You chewed your lip, feeling a little stupid for even calling her. “But what if he does put it together, Sarah? I don’t know if I’m ready for that.”
“He won’t,” she reassured, like she could see right through your anxiety. “And you don’t need to feel bad for wanting to keep this private. You’re allowed to handle it however you need to. You’re not doing anything wrong.”
You exhaled, the knot in your chest loosening a little. She always knew how to talk you down, "Okay,” you murmured, and a shaky laugh slipped out. “Maybe I'm being paranoid.”
“Pregnancy brain,” she teased, and you couldn’t help but smile.
You hung up feeling marginally better.
Sarah had a way of calming you down, but the uneasiness stayed with you, the way it always did when you couldn’t fully explain something.
But the relief was fleeting, by lunchtime, the nagging voice in your head was back. Topper wasn’t malicious, but he did have a habit of talking without thinking, and the last thing you needed was for this to get out before you were ready. Not only was this a huge scandal, but it was your business.
You busied yourself with small tasks—folding laundry, wiping down the counters, pretending that everything was fine. It wasn’t until almost noon that your phone rang. The hospital’s number flashed on the screen, and your stomach dropped.
“Hello?”
“Hi, is this Miss Thornton?” the voice on the other end asked politely, too polite for comfort.
“This is she."
“This is Linda from the hospital. I’m calling about your recent bloodwork. We had a bit of an issue with our system, and unfortunately, there was a delay in getting back to you. We also lost some patient information temporarily—”
“Wait, what?” you interrupted, not liking where this was going, “What do you mean you lost information?”
“Oh, nothing to worry about,” Linda said quickly, as if that would make you feel better. “We managed to recover most of it, but in the meantime, we had to rely on emergency contact information to reach out. Dr. Harris called yours last night.”
Your breath caught. “Called... my emergency contact?”
“Yes.”
“Sarah Cameron? She didn’t tell me someone called.”
“She’s not listed as your emergency contact in our system, Rafe Cameron is. It might be an older record?”
Fuck.
Your heart was in your throat. “What... what did he tell him?”
“He only left a generic message asking for you to follow up about your bloodwork. Nothing specific.”
“Nothing specific,” you repeated, more to yourself than to her. Relief and panic warred within you. If Rafe knew, he’d already be there, the night before, demanding answers. Right?
“We need you to come back in. It’s possible you may have an infection, and we need to run a few more tests.”
You didn’t even hear the rest of her explanation.
Your fingers felt numb as you mumbled something that vaguely resembled agreement and hung up.
Infection, that was what she’d said. That was all it was. Not… not anything else. If it were anything else, they wouldn’t have just called—they’d have told Rafe.
“Stop,” you muttered aloud, shaking your head. “Stop spiraling.”
But your brain wouldn’t listen.
“Generic message,” Linda had said, but did it sound generic? What did he think when he got it? Had he laughed it off, or was he running his stupid pristine bedroom, piecing together clues you hadn’t even realized you’d left?
You didn’t want to text Sarah again.
You could imagine her smirking, “I told you, he’s not going to magically grow psychic overnight.” Yeah, sure, but this was Rafe.
He didn’t need magic. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to focus on Sarah’s voice in your head. “You’re not doing anything wrong.”
Except it didn’t feel like that. You hadn’t thought about Rafe as your emergency contact in months, hadn’t needed to.
You sank into the couch, hugging your knees to your chest.
“This is so stupid,” you muttered, but your voice didn’t make it feel any less real. You weren’t even sure what you were spiraling over anymore. The envelope? The hospital? The baby?
“Okay,” you said out loud. “Okay, it’s fine. Everything’s fine.”
The sound of your voice didn’t even convince you. Your brain wouldn’t stop jumping from one thing to the next, spinning every scenario you didn’t want to think about.
What if he did know? If that was enough to set him off, to make him call someone, pull some strings...Shit, what if he did show up, and you had to explain why you were dodging everyone and keeping things from him and—stop.
Stop.
You were doing it again. The spiraling. The pregnancy brain Sarah teased you about like it was some sort of cute quirk, but wasn’t cute.
You sat up straight, squeezing the couch pillow so hard you thought it might burst. Breathe. Just breathe, you’d made it this far without imploding.
You glanced toward the drawer again, the one with the envelope. You should’ve burned it, shredded it first. No, you had to keep it—just in case. But just in case of what? Just in case you needed more reasons to feel like a lunatic.
Oh my god. What if Topper saw the stupid number, and then Rafe got the hospital call, and then—bam—suddenly, they had the whole damn thing figured out?
You could feel it already—the panic. You liked to think they were both too stupid for their own good, but they were also observant. Rafe, that bastard always knew how to put things together faster than anyone.
What if—what if it’s that simple for them? What if they both saw it, and then they were just sitting there, having some stupid-ass conversation, connecting dots you didn’t even realize were dots?
No. Stop. Stop thinking like that.
You were getting carried away, jumping to conclusions like some manic soap opera character. You weren’t that girl. Not really. But the thought of them talking—Topper with his concern and Rafe with his overbearing intensity.
Your fingers tapped a frantic rhythm against the pillow. The idea of him figuring it out? Oh, that made your skin crawl. Not because he’d be cruel—no, that wasn’t his style. He’d just be so… himself.
Overwhelming, determined to “fix” things for you, even when you didn’t ask for it.
You groaned, dropping the pillow and standing abruptly, like the movement might kill the growing dread. No, you told yourself firmly.
You weren’t spiraling over things that hadn’t even happened yet.
But the voice in your head, the one that always sounded a little too much like Rafe, had other plans: What if it’s already too late?
You paced the living room, arms crossed tightly over your chest. This was ridiculous, you were ridiculous. Nothing had happened, nothing was going to happen. The number wasn’t even that suspicious, it could’ve been anything.
You groaned again, flopping onto the couch like the dramatic mess you were currently embodying. Rafe had probably gotten the hospital call, rolled his eyes without a second thought, too busy with his new precious life.
Your stomach churned, and you pressed your hands against it instinctively. It wasn’t showing yet—thank god—but you couldn’t help the way your mind spiraled back to it, to all the ways this could go wrong.
You grabbed your car keys without thinking, maybe it would clear your head. A drive—that’s what you needed. Get out of the house, and put some distance between you and the stupid envelope, the phone calls, all of it. You turned the knob, yanked the door open—
—and froze.
Rafe’s hand was raised mid-air, clearly about to knock. You didn’t even try to hide the way your breath hitched.
Oh, no. No, no, no.
Standing there on the porch like he hadn’t just derailed your entire plan. As if it was still perfectly normal for him to show up unannounced, one hand shoved into his pocket and the other gripping his phone, his head tilted in a maddeningly familiar way.
His hand hovered uncertainly on the doorframe as you stepped back, your arms folding protectively over your chest. He didn’t push past you, didn’t move his weight forward—just stood there.
He glanced down at the spare key still in his hand, turning it over like he was considering whether he even had the right to use it. “They called me last night.”
Okay, he was just here because of the hospital, a coincidence, that’s all it was.
“And? You could’ve ignored it.”
His hand flexed at his side like he didn’t know what to do with it. “I thought something might be wrong.”
“It’s not.” Your voice was clipped, cold. “They called the wrong number. End of story.”
He didn’t rise to the bait.
“I thought—” He cut himself off, exhaling sharply. “I thought you were sick.”
“Like I said, it was a mix-up.”
His jaw ticked. That tiny muscle in his cheek twitched, the one that always flared when he was suspicious.
“Funny, they didn’t sound mixed up when they said your name,” he drawled, his tone probing. “Wanna try again?”
“Mind your fucking business,” Your voice was defensive, and you hated the crackle of guilt in your chest when he flinched. “I don’t need you to pretend to care. Why are you even here?” you snapped, taking a step back. The space between you felt vulnerable. “Don’t you have someone else to worry about?"
You felt cornered with every second he stood there.
“We need to talk.”
Maybe if you acted calm, like nothing was wrong, he’d stop looking at you like that. Vulnerability wasn’t something you were good at, he’d already taken too much. He always took too much.
“I don’t owe you shit. Not explanations, not answers, nothing. Leave.”
He didn’t. Of course, he didn’t.
Rafe didn’t know how to let shit go, not when it came to you, he didn’t back away.
“You’re right,” he said, surprising you. “You don’t, but I’m not leaving until we talk.”
The way he said, it wasn’t even a threat. It was worse than that. It was calm, resolute, like he’d already decided, and nothing you said or did could change it.
That scared you more than anything.
“There’s nothing to talk about,” you hissed, “Whatever you think you know, you don’t.”
He arched an eyebrow, his eyes flicking to the edge of the couch where your phone still sat, “You sure about that?”
“God, you’re always like this. Always overstepping, always assuming—”
“I know."
All the noise in your head—your spiraling thoughts, your excuses, your endless denials—went silent, except for the way your heart thudded in your chest, so fast, it hurt. He hadn’t raised his voice, but those two words hit you like a kick to your chest.
No, he couldn’t—he didn’t, he was bluffing, he had to be. Air caught in your throat, and for a moment, you thought you might choke on it. He didn’t move, didn’t repeat himself. He couldn’t know.
Your tongue went dry.
“What are you talking about?” You couldn’t breathe. It felt like someone was squeezing your chest. You shook your head again, more violently this time, stepping back, “You don’t know shit.”
“I think I do.” His voice was quiet, and that made it worse, it wasn’t cold or angry; it wasn’t even accusing. He didn’t sound like he wanted to be right, he just sounded tired.
You prayed to come up with something—anything—to deflect, to deny, to keep the truth buried where it belonged.
“You’re delusional,” you took another step back, putting more space between you and the man who had always known you too well.
He just shook his head, “You don’t have to lie to me, you’re scared, you’re not even trying to hide it.”
It was the way he stared with those stupid blue eyes, he was peeling back your layers. He always did that, made you feel like he could see something in you that you weren’t ready to acknowledge.
“Oh, fuck off.” You threw your hands up. “You don’t know shit about what I’m feeling. You’ve got no right to—I’m not lying.”
It still hurt how much you missed him, hurt to even look at him.
“Don’t pull this cryptic bullshit with me, if you’ve got something to say, say it.”
“You’re pregnant, aren’t you?”
The thing you’d been running from, denying, hiding, you simply stared at him, trying to decide if there was any way to lie your way out of this.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” You tried to laugh, but it came out strangled, desperate. “T-That’s insane. You’ve lost your mind.”
Rafe wasn’t gloating or triumphant—he just looked… resigned, he’d pieced it together before he showed up.
“Don’t do that. Don’t lie to me, not about this.”
You wanted to scream, to shove him, to do anything that would make him stop looking at you like he cared. Like he knew you. Because if you stopped long enough to think about it, you knew it was over.
He’d already seen it.
“I mean it, Rafe.” Your hand tightened on the door, nails digging into the wood. “Get the fuck out of my house.”
God, this was so fucked. You wanted him gone, but wanted him here, needed him to leave you alone, but at the same time, you hated that he could just leave.
“Tell me I’m wrong.”
You thought about what he’d do if he knew—really knew. Not just the vague sense he had now, but the details. Would he try to stop you?
Your lip quivered, and you hated yourself for it. “You’re wrong.”
You stared at him, at the way his shoulders hunched slightly, his usual confidence worn down. You hated him for being calm for once in his fucking life, for being here, for not letting this slide when it was none of his fucking business.
“Am I?”
Your hands clenched tighter, nails biting into your palms. “Why? Why do you even care? It’s not like you—”
“Because it’s mine.”
Your breath hitched again, and this time, you couldn’t hide it. You wanted to deny it, to throw something—hell, anything—back at him to make him shut the fuck up. But your throat felt like it had shut off entirely, and your mind had gone blank.
“I—” you stammered, shaking your head violently, “No. You don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re—”
“Hey, hey, just—just stop,” he said, his voice careful, as if he was trying not to spook you. “I’m not—Jesus, I’m not here to fight with you, okay? I’m not here to make this harder.”
Your chest heaved, a bitter laugh escaping before you could stop it. He was too late—late to care, late to help, late to fix anything. Five days, that’s all you had to get through.
Five days until you didn’t have to think about it anymore.
This is the right choice, you told yourself for the hundredth time. You couldn’t bring a baby into this mess.
“You’re doing a hell of a job at that.”
“I just want to help. If you let me—”
“No,” you interrupted, grabbing the edge of the door. “I’m fixing it.”
“Fixing—?” Rafe’s brow furrowed, his confusion almost comical He started to step forward, but you stopped him with a resentful glare that made him stop. “What does that even mean?”
“It means you can take your fake concern and shove it up your ass.”
His brow furrowed. “It’s not fake—” His face twisted in confusion, mouth opening like he was about to argue, but you didn’t give him the chance, slamming the door in his face, so hard the frame rattled.
“Of course. Of course, it’s mine,” you muttered to yourself, mocking his stupid, self-righteous tone.
You leaned back against the door, sliding to the floor, arms crossed over your knees as your brain whirred like it was trying to kill you.
It wasn’t like you had a choice.
Technically, you did, but what were you supposed to do? Keep it and become a tragic sob story? The words almost felt like you’d ripped them out of someone else’s mouth, right or wrong didn’t even matter anymore. There wasn’t space in your life for this—for him, for a baby, for any of it.
A muffled knock sounded from the front door—tentative, like he was giving you a moment.
“Go away,” you yelled, your voice hoarse.
“Open the door.”
Your thoughts taunted you with memories and possibilities you didn’t want to entertain. The way Rafe had looked at you—like he knew—it was unbearable.
How had he put it together? Maybe you'd slip up in tiny ways, leaving a trail of breadcrumbs for him to follow. You hated yourself for being so careless, despised him even more for being so fucking relentless.
You wiped your cheeks roughly, not realizing you’d started crying until your sleeve came back damp.
“Please, just open the door. We can talk—just talk, okay?
“No,” you muttered to the empty room. “No, I’m not doing this.”
You squeezed your eyes shut, leaning your head back against the door and pressing your hands over your ears to block him out.
“Don’t shut me out like this,” he begged. “I can’t—fuck, I can’t stand it when you do this. Just open the door. Five minutes, that’s all I’m asking.”
He had a key. If he wanted to, he could let himself in at any moment, but he didn’t, that wasn’t the Rafe you were used to.
Before, he'd have barged right in, shouted until your ears bled, and demanded answers. He would’ve tried to fix it or destroy it, maybe both.
You hated that he still acted like he cared, that he was trying to be so fucking reasonable now, when just a few months ago, he would’ve lost it, broken through any barrier to get what he wanted.
This was worse, this Rafe was wearing you down.
Another hushed plea made it through the door, but all you could think was how thin the wood felt, how it barely drowned the sound of his voice. A new door might be better, something heavier, more solid, that could drown out everything—the desperation, the crack in his voice.
Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, and you bit hard on the inside of your cheek to keep them from falling.
“I know you’re scared,” he continued, “And I know you think I’ll screw this up—God knows I probably will. But please don’t keep me in the dark. Just tell me what’s going on.”
You pictured flipping through hardware store catalogs, weighing your options: oak? steel? soundproofing foam?
“Please,” Rafe whispered, and the rawness in his voice scraped against you like nails on a chalkboard. You tilted your head back against the door, willing yourself not to cry again.
Steel doors don’t warp as easily as wood.
You swallowed hard, your body aching as you fought the sob threatening to escape. He didn’t deserve this—didn’t deserve to sound so wrecked over you. He'd done this to himself.
Your fingers twitched against the door handle, the temptation to open it curling around you, but instead, you thought about bolts.
Deadbolts, a second lock could work, something he couldn’t get through even if he had the key.
His voice wavered again, you thought he might start crying, too, yet all you did was glance at the base of the door. A better seal would muffle the noise more. Maybe weatherstripping? That could help.
You pressed your hands tighter over your ears, as though it would help. It didn’t. Nothing would—not until you replaced the lock, the door, the memory of him standing there and breaking himself open for you.
God, you really needed a new door—and a new heart.
One that didn’t twist at the sound of his voice, that didn’t flinch every time he called your name like it was a prayer. A heart that didn’t feel for him, you told yourself, over and over, like a mantra. If you could just stop the way your chest tightened at his pleas, stop the ache in your ribs when he said he couldn’t let this go.
You wanted steel walls, that could keep everything out—his voice, his touch, the memories of all the good parts of him that had kept you hanging on for so long. Because of this heart? It was useless, too soft, too easily swayed, still willing to believe him, even when you knew better.
“Please, just talk to me,” Rafe begged. You bit your lip hard enough to taste blood.
You couldn’t help but wonder if this calmness came from Sofia.
Perhaps she was the reason he’d changed, maybe she had somehow made him different, had softened the sharp edges of the guy you used to know. She was calm, collected—nothing like you. It hurt like a bitch, the thought that someone else could make him this patient. You wondered if she’d taught him how to handle his emotions, how to be this way—he’d learned some secret he never bothered to share with you.
You couldn't let yourself go there, couldn't let the bitterness of that thought settle in your mind for too long.
summary: a birthday without drew is effecting you more than it should.
warnings: birthday blues, angst, fluff, etc.
a/n: for my baby lou on her birthday <3
wc: 1.2k
Holidays – webster defines them as important events – events that mark passage and religion and somehow that equates to being seamlessly surrounded by the people you hold nearest to your heart. As long as you could remember, holidays and special events had been your driving factor; you – the epitome of golden, gift-giving to those around you in an attempt to make them feel as loved as you did just by being in their lives. It was one of the first things Drew took note of as you got to know each other on set, other than the fact that you shared a birthday. You weren’t sure what the zodiac’s said about two scorpios being together, but you couldn’t find the energy to care when it felt so good. The long hours on set quickly turned into talking and friendship and a whirlwind summer romance blossomed as the chemistry between your character’s left the pages of the scripts in your hands and bled into your everyday life. He made things easy and effortless and it had been that way as long as you could remember, even dating back to the night of your very first date. He had taken you to a bar in South Carolina in the midst of filming the second season and though you knew he was vast in his contrast to Rafe, it still made you giggle when showed up in a pair of jeans and a graphic t-shirt that his alter ego would never be caught dead in. You went for dinner and drinks which turned into a three hour long conversation about your lives and how you got to be who you were. You knew that night that he’d own your heart forever. You were pulled out of your thoughts as his ringtone sounded off, signaling he was on the other end of the phone, waiting to hear your voice.
“Hello?”
You answered, sliding your finger across the screen, accepting the call and placing the speaker up to your ear.
“Well hey there, pretty girl.”
You could hear him grin as he greeted you.
“Hi, handsome. How was your day?”
You questioned, smiling back at the nickname he reserved only for you.
“Long and boring – missed you. Still do.”
He responded.
“Miss you more, silly boy.”
You replied and he laughed.
“What’s so funny?”
You teased, laughing in return as you questioned him and he snorted.
“Not possible that you miss me more, baby.”
You rolled your eyes.
“Don’t start, Joseph. I’m already sad enough you won’t be here when I wake up.”
Your bottom lip trembled as you remembered why you were wallowing in bed to begin with – your shared birthday with your boyfriend and the fact that for the first time in three years, you wouldn’t be together for it. This year, you wouldn’t be sleeping soundly with his long locks and beads of sweat against your bare chest as the clock struck midnight and turned the two of you another year older. No – instead, the two of you were on opposite sides of the country, unable to celebrate and because of this, you deemed it appropriate not to celebrate at all. What was a birthday without him, anyway? You couldn’t bring yourself to remember.
“I know, sweetheart. I’m sorry.”
He was sincere. He always was.
“S’okay.”
You muttered, but he knew it wasn’t.
“What’s this I hear about you not celebrating, huh? Mads said you wouldn’t even go out to dinner with the gang, baby. What’s that about?”
You knew he wasn’t questioning you in accusation, but, instead in care and you softened under the boom of his worried tone.
“I’m just not in a celebrating mood, Drew.”
You muttered.
“Please, baby. Just go for me, I promise it’ll be worth it, I have presents that’ll be waiting for you and it’ll totally ruin the vibe if they are just sitting there wrapped with no pretty girl to open them. Come on – please go.”
He begged beautifully, like a puppy with its sights on a treat.
“Fine, Starkey. I’ll go, but you owe me.”
You replied, rolling your eyes.
“Anything you want, mama – it's yours, just name your price.”
You giggled, able to visibly picture his hands up in surrender.
-
He asked you to go and that’s exactly what you did – you went, hoping that the present was him deep down to your core, though you know his filming schedule and his new director wouldn’t allow that to happen. You still hoped and that’s exactly how you found yourself in his favorite dress, a baby blue number with rhinestone straps and satin fabric. You had dolled yourself up, in a few hours it would be your birthday after all and what better excuse than that? You made your way into the bar, pushing through the crowd of people in an attempt to get your hands on a drink, but not just any drink. The birthday girl craved pineapple and malibu and that’s exactly what she was going to get. You stumbled bumping shoulders with a blonde who you immediately recognized as Madelyn as you made your way to the wooden stools in front of the bar. You got up and onto them quickly, hugging into her side and greeting her as you did so.
“Hey, birthday girl!!”
she said, as she stumbled, already seemingly drunker than you were.
“Hey, mads.”
You replied, chuckling. You waited for a moment more as you were served your drinks and sipped on them.
“How are you holding up, party girl?”
You laughed into your question, watching as she slurped her drink down and almost fell off the stool she sat on.
“I’m fine, babe. I should be asking you that.”
She yelled into your face, the music drowning out her tiny voice.
“I’m okay, just miss him. I feel bad, you know?”
“Yeah — wait, what do you mean you feel bad?”
“I don’t know, I feel like a drama queen. It shouldn’t be a big deal, it’s just a birthday. It’s not even worth celebrating. I just hope that he wants to be with me on these days, you know? I hope he cares that it’s my birthday and that he wants to be with me as badly as I want to be with him.”
You muttered, tears lining your eyes and she smiled mischievously back at you. Your brow knitted in confusion, but it quickly dissipated as you felt a large shadow looming over you.
“Sweet girl, if you don’t know how I feel by now, I’ve got some making up to do, huh?”
The hair on the back of your neck stood as Drew’s lips spoke into your ear. You turned around quickly, falling off the bar stool you sat on.
“Easy, tiger. You’re precious cargo.”
He smiled, steadying you and you threw your arms around his middle violently. He only wrapped his strong arms around you laying his chin on top of your head as he rubbed your back. You leaned back on your heels and looked up at him as he leaned his neck down bringing you into a deep kiss.
“Joseph — what are you trying to do to me?”
You asked, tears leaking from your eyes.
“Pretty girl, come on, you know better. I’m not gonna miss your birthday, baby — not ever.”
You kissed him again, running your thumb across his chiseled cheek. You knew you shouldn’t have doubted him, as he had many times before, he had proved yet again just how well he loved you.
It is so fucking perfekt I love it so much and I love you so much! Best birthday present ever 🥺❤️
You are amazing I got all warm and tingly in my whole body reading this, you are so damn talented sweet girl and I am so blessed to have you as a friend 🫶🏽❤️😭
Reminiscing because today is the best day of the year aka mine and Drew’s birthdays 🥺 and last year my bestie and baby gave me the best present ever this beautiful story, if you have not read it you should it slaps ❤️🥰 baby t I love you with all my heart ✨ @lovelornanonymity
Once again it is mine and Drews birthday 😍 and I am rereading this masterpiece that my dear Tanner wrote for me in 2022 🥹 ily baby you are such an amazing writer and person ❤️ @torturedtypewritersdept
warnings: angst, fluff, breakup, mention of infidelity, sexual themes, mental health issues, mention of pregnancy, mention of infertility. most of them don't happen but they're mentioned. smut [it has a warning for everyone who doesn't like or doesn't want reading it and a warning on where it ends and the smut ends.]
summary: she's an actress and a singer, he's an actor. coworkers that fell in love until it fell apart. now everything is gone but how did it disappear?
a/n: odessa a'zion is made the antagonist in this story. hateful comments aren't allowed, it's just for the plot. it's probably the only chapter with descriptive sexual content because i'm not used to write it and i only felt it was needed now.
[the face and hair color of reader changes depending on the picture i need for the instagram posts! anyone can imagine how their reader looks, it isn't a designated actress or singer for this fic]
moodboard
series masterlist
neither drew or y/n knew if they were ready to see one another, even after six months both of them still found themselves longing for their lost half.
y/n wanted for the earth to absorve her when on her uber while going to chase's, madelyn sent her a text.
text
maddie "did you see this?"
maddie [instagram post]
maddie "drew sent it to me asking if i knew anything about it."
y/n "i don't want to face him."
y/n "he has nothing to do or ask about it. the articles about one of us having dinner with 'friends' while we were together weren't about me, they were about him."
y/n "what if i fake sickeness and i don't go?"
maddie "chase will literally kill you and you know it, he's been tallking about how much he misses you non stop on set."
y/n "i miss y'all too and being on set."
maddie "i know hon. see u there."
the bottle of wine on her hand almost drops to the floor when the door is wide open and a happy chase throws himself at her in a big hug.
"oh i missed you so much." she giggled at his words.
"i missed you too big bro." she kisses his cheek. "even tho i saw you last month with kelsea i new york last month."
"yeah but it's been way too long." he smiles at her while guiding her in. "everyone's already here."
"god i hate being the last one."
"look who the wind brought in!" jd exclaims when he sees her come in chase's dinning room, getting up to greet her.
"miss little big rockstar!" elaine says rushing to envolve her in a tight hug.
"thank you, thank you." she makes a reverence laughing while before her friends arms get all around her.
"i missed your ugly face." rudy laughs picking her up and spins her around.
"always so sweet." y/n says messing with his hair. "nick and austin ain't coming?" she says scanning the room.
"nick is filming in san diego and austin had a wedding." drew spoke up. "hey."
"hi." she walks up to him and gaves him a hug that's quickly reciprocated.
"we're never on the same place as nick." bailey said.
"yeah it's weird." madelyn agreed. "and well it's hard for all of us to get our calenders to coincide even more now that bubble isn't on the show." bubble, their nickname for y/n, born from her always being distracted on her own little bubble.
as the night settled in and with drinks in hand, she took a moment to appreciate everything. her friends laughing, the feeling of being at home even with drew there. his presence made her nervous? of course it did, he was the love of her life and he was no longer her's to be.
"hey, you alright?" carlacia whispered to her.
"yeah, i just missed this so much, you know?" y/n smiles at her.
"we're your found family and you lost everything within a month." carlacia hand held her's. "it's okay to be overwhelmed."
"thank car, it's nice to hear it. everyone just expects us to bounce back after our lives fell apart."
lost in her conversation, she wasn't aware of drew watching her every move from across the room. the complicity with bailey and her girlfriend to her walking to the patio dissapearing from the group. only to follow her five minutes later.
she knew it was him the one to open and close the french door without seeing him.
"don't ask, just sit down." she tilted her head to look at him. he chuckles and sits next to her leaving a space between the two. "just please don't smoke next to me."
"i quitted a few motnhs ago."
"i'm glad, it was going to kill you." she take a sip of her drink. "how are you?"
"been good, how are you?" he fidgetes with his ring.
"preparing for the first leg of the tour. starts in two months."
"where are you going this time?" he looks at her and remebers how mad he's at himself for still being in love with her after what he put her through. he doesn't deserve the privilege that is loving her, he had it and lost it.
"seven countries in south america,australia, three in asia, ten in europe, canada and the states but we're leaving outside the one's we did last year. i have like two or three shows in each city's. it's almost a year of tour but i'll be taking breaks in between."
"wow it's big this time." he smiles. "i'm proud of you."
"thank you." she smiles back. "it's the biggest i've done."
"i know, we used to talk about this. you've made it."
"it's insane to hear that outloud." they both laugh. "you were there for almost all the way."
they stay silent for a minute until y/n breaks it.
"ask what you want to ask drew." she lets her head fall back resting in the sofa and looks at him.
"are you with someone?" he takes a deep breath in.
"i wouldn't call it being with someone."
"and what would you call it?" his brows snapped together.
"hooking up, just not with zayn. he's become a really good friend." she sighs.
he stays silent.
"what's in your mind?" her forehead creases.
"didn't expect you to move own so fast. that's all." he shrugges his shoulds trying to appear indiferent.
"it's been six months drew. i couldn't stay frozen forever." she closes her eyes for a moment before getting up. "i'm going inside." she squeezes his shoulder with affection and goes back to their friends, a while later drew does the same.
camera's pointing in all directions, capturing one more an infinite of their memories and at three am bailey said they should get going, the rest of them aggreing.
"i can take you home if you want, rudy mentioned you didn't came with your car." drew said standing in front of her and she nooded yes.
"that'd be nice, thank you."
"bubble are you coming with us?" elaine asked while everyone said their goodbyes.
"drew's taking me home, don't worry." she smiled and kissed her's and rudy's cheek. "love you both."
"love you more." the blonde said.
"they're so sleeping together tonight." chase said once the former couple had driven away making the rest of the group which stayed in the driveway laugh.
"that's out of the question." jd chuckled.
"god i love this song." y/n said turning up the volume to bad omens by 5sos.
"saw them last month in california with kelsea and chase." he looks at her before redirecting his sight to the road.
"no way. i wanted to go to the new york one's but scheduals weren't on my side." the black gates of her house came to view. "the code is the same we had at ours." she says.
"piggy's birthday." he chuckles.
"i've to pick her up from my sister's tomorrow." y/n says as his truck parks in front of her door hidden by the now closed gates. "the past two weeks were filled with work."
"i can take her sometimes if you have to travel and i'm not filming somewhere else. i've missed her."
"i'm sure we can do it sometime." she opens the door. "thank you for the ride." she's about to get off when drew's hand on her's stops her.
"wait." he releases her hand and moves it to the back of her neck.
"drew... we shouldn't." y/n wishpers noticing the closenes between them.
"just once. i can't remeber the last time we kissed." it comes out as a plead.
her eyes move from his eyes to his lips and back to his eyes before smashing her mouth against him, moving a hand to grip his shirt and the other to his face. when it breaks, both trying to find the air taken but drew's fast to kiss her again.
with eyes still closed y/n puts distance between them again and procedes to get off the truck. they look at eachother for a second before she speaks.
"are you coming?" shock floods through his body. "well?"
"yeah i'm coming." he turns the ignition off before following her inside her house.
[sexual content]
when the door closed, drew's arm was immediately around her waist picking her up forcing her to wrap around his middle the fight for dominance in the kiss would never change for them and him winning each time wouldn't either.
"where's your" he said panting, stealing kisses while she tried to form a sentence.
"the hall uh third door to the right." her hand went to choke his neck, kisses descending to his jaw as her back touched the bed and he settled in between her legs rutting through their clothes her intentions went to unbotton his pants and touch one of the things she missed. no one could compare to what she lived with him nor outside or inside the bed. "want these off." she tugs on his underware.
"impatiente aren't we?" he chuckles getting off her to follow what she said, his t-shirt gone first and pants then.
"god." she whispers. she hadn't forgotten how hot he is, using her memories to get off more than once. alone or with someone else, he was most of the times in her mind.
he nips at her inner thigh when he bends down to take off her shorts and thong. she wasn't perfectly shaved and neither was he exposing the spontaneity of the moment, the luck he had gotten at her agreeing at him taking her home, at him asking to kiss her.
"take off that shirt, i'm starting to hate it." he says making her chuckle.
"come and take it off if you want it off." she would never stop driving him into a spiral of craziness.
he straddled her hips, caging her under him while taking her shirt discovering nothing underneath and y/n took it as a chance to take him in her hand.
"let me on top." she tries to sit up making him roll to his back.
"for fucks sake." he moans when without a warning she takes it in her mouth, doing everything in the way she knows he likes.
he becomes a moaning mess and grips her hair, just how she likes.
"i'm gonna cum, stop." he tugs on the makeshift ponytail and pulls her off of him.
"but."
"i don't care what you have to say i want to cum somewhere else." he turns her to her back in a quick move. the way he talks to her making her breathing stop, he was sweet and at the same time so controlling in bed. the kisses and bites he was leaving on her chest and lower stomach would leave a mark, she was sure of it and she didn't care.
"drew i-" her words freeze in her throat, a loud moan escapes from her when his tongue starts doing what it does best. bringing the stars to her.
the dizzy feeling clouding her mind, her hand went to grip his hair only to remind her in wasn't there anymore. "fuck why would you shave it." he chuckled, not stopping his task instead adding more to her pleassure when his fingers surprise her.
she chants his name, the electricity of her orgasm rushing though her body. it doesn't stop her from gripping his arms intending to bring him up to her.
"i want you." she kisses him biting his lip. "now please please please."
"say it again." his hand pushing her hair out of her face, kissing all around it to end in her mouth pecking on it a few times.
"please." y/n whines. "are you clean?" he knew what she wanted, what they always did in a careless way some would say but after so much time together they didn't use to care if she fell pregnant anymore.
"yeah." he didn't need to ask her, he knew she was clean. a freak of using a condom with anyone, even with him until their second annivesary. guiding himself inside her, he took a moment before pushing all the way.
the kiss matching the pace of their hips clashing with one another. one of her legs hicked up his waist while the other wraped around his leg, her nails marking his back.
"baby." he moans into her neck, making a mark there too.
"i know. i know." she whimpers. "cum please inside me. cum" her words triggering him to unload inside her walls, the overstimulation when his fingers start tracing figures on her sensitive and swollen clit shattering her's too.
the only noise being their heavy breathing and their mouths finding the other's again.
"stay like this for a bit." she says caressing his back gets him slowly nodding.
"i love you." he says while pecking her lips. he didn't care anymore if he fucked up the moment but y/n's eyes softening and the small smile she gave him followed by a kiss let him know he didn't.
"i love you." she kissed him back.
[end of sexual content]
they laid in her bed, looking at one another. his fingers tracing patterns in her arm.
"should i get going?" he asks, wishing to the stars for her no say no.
"leave in the morning, it's late and i'd hate you if you make me sleep alone." she let her head fall into the pillow and he chuckled doing the same.
drew wrapped his arm around her, bringing her back to his chest and placing a kiss to her shoulder.
"it's not that i've moved on, but i couldn't stay where we left. i had already checked out mentally when we broke up." she says softly.
"i'm sorry." he says.
"i know." she entwine her hand when the one he laid in her stomach.
the night drifting both into sleep, leaving them to resolve the unsaid and the news out tomorrow.
