Dad!Rafe Cameron x Mom!Fem!Reader [ more rafe content ]
SYNOPSIS & WCââąâ„ [1.9k] Marrying a man whose known to have a temper wasn't for the weak, but with your newborn daughter in the picture, you're especially determined to make sure he knows that the cycle won't continue.
WARNING(S) & A/Nââąâ„ part of @zyafics MRGA campaign, based on Towards The Sun by Rihanna, swearing, mild violence, yelling, mentions of substance/alcohol abuse, mentions of rehab/therapy, mentions of relapsing, their baby is named Eve
YOU KNEW WHAT you were in for when you got involved with Rafe Cameron. Or so you thought.
You were no stranger to his drug addiction, his temper, or the pressing family issues that seemed to trigger it all. And you weren't there to be his savior by any means. But you loved him, and it was clear he needed help.
You saw a light within him that no one else seemed to, and although it wasn't your job to bring it to the surface, you made it your mission anyway.
You spent the majority of your relationship teaching Rafe that everything didn't need to be a battle, that the world wasn't against him. After six months together, you'd helped him get clean and sober. After a year, you'd encouraged him to start therapy for his anger, him being hesitant until you told him you were pregnant and that it was non-negotiable.
And now, a year into your marriage, you had an eight-month-old daughter you both loved very much. Your number one priority was fostering a safe and stable environment for her.
But like all progress, it has the potential to go backward.
You were sitting on the couch in the living room of your and Rafe's home, your daughter sound asleep beside you, laid out on the hand-knitted blanket your mother had made for her. The TV was on, playing one of your favorite movies, when the slam of the front door echoed through the quiet house, rattling the framed photos on the hallway table.
You flinched, a hand instinctively going to your heart. It wasn't the usual gentle click of Rafe coming home, the one that meant he'd had a good day, that he was still fighting his demons and winning. This was different. This was the sound of a storm brewing, a beast coming out of hiding.
You pushed yourself up from the sofa, glancing at your restful child. "Rafe?" you called out, your voice tentative.
He was in the kitchen now, his back to you, shoulders hunched. He was silent, but his breathing was so heavy you could hear it across the room.
At his silence, you sighed, gently scooping up your daughter, careful not to wake her as you stood, cradling her against your chest. Walking over to him slowly, you spoke once again. "Rafe," you started, standing next to him as he took deep breaths. "What's wrong-"
"What isn't?" he snapped, pushing himself up from the counter. He shot you a glance as he turned away, one you recognized. And one you didn't like. "Apparently, my father's trying to collaborate our development with another business. I mean, does he know how stupid that is?" Rafe ranted, hands moving wildly as you stood in place, dangerously still. "Not only is it fucking stupid, it means I'm moving down in the ranks. Again. After he promised meâ" He slammed his fist on the counter, a force so large the ground underneath your feet shook.
"Rafeâ"
"After he promised me I was next in line!" he shouted, face turning a dangerous shade of red.
You hadn't seen this side of Rafe in so long that it was hard to digest, but you weren't going to let it spiral. He'd worked so hard to get where he was now; you weren't going to let one mishap upend it all.
As he heaved in the kitchen, you quietly exited the room. You rocked your baby, trying to keep her asleep amid the chaos brewing in your family home, as you walked down the hall and to her nursery. You gently laid her down in her crib, turning on her mobile before silently leaving and softly shutting the door.
You could still hear Rafe talking to himself, the clanking of dishes in the kitchen ringing out as you took a deep breath, making your way back into the kitchen.
"He's such a piece of shitâ"
"You need to calm down," you said bluntly, rounding the corner and standing before your husband with your arms crossed, eyebrows set into a firm line.
"C-Calm down?" Rafe said incredulously, his wild gaze now on you. It was the middle of the night, the only light being the flash of colors coming from the TV.
"Yes, that's what I said," you assured him, walking closer to Rafe as he shook his head, scoffing as he opened the cabinet where you kept your glasses. "You're losing control. Don't let go of everything you worked so hard to fix, Rafeâ"
"Yeah, 'cause that's all you fucking care about," he snapped, slamming the cabinet shut and letting the glass clank against the countertop. "I get screwed over by my dad, again, and you're worried about my temperâ"
"Don't talk to me like that," you snarled, your face twisting in mild anger. "And don't act like you had no part in this. I told you to stop working for your dad a long time agoâ"
"And go where, huh? With what money? If I don't work for him, he'll take everything," he argued, opening the liquor cabinet and pulling out an unopened bottle of whiskey you'd forgotten about.
You tried not to keep alcohol in the house, but it was an old engagement gift you'd overlooked.
Rafe wasted no time unscrewing the cap, moving to pour it into the waiting glass before you snatched it from underneath the tilted bottle.
"What're youâ"
"If you drink that," you motioned to the whiskey bottle, "that's it." You informed him, jaw clenched.
Rafe squinted in your direction, bottle still in hand. "...What're you saying? That...that if I drink this, you're going to leave me? What you think one glass is gonna make me relapse or somethin'-"
"That's exactly what I'm saying," you told him. Your heart was pounding in your chest, but you needed to stand your ground. "You're letting one bad day send you back to where you were before. And I love you, Rafe. But I'm not your guardian angel. I did my part, I helped. But I won't go through that again." You said, all in one breath. "We... we have a daughter now. I won't let you turn this house into a war zone."
Your breath hitched. It had been years. So many hard-fought months and years. So many late-night talks, so many tears, so many meetings he'd dragged himself to, even when every fiber of his being screamed to just give up. And he'd done it. He'd been doing so well.
And as much as you wanted to make sure he'd stay that way, you wouldn't force it. You wouldn't prolong what might be the inevitable, because if that was who he was, then you needed to know now so you could get out before it was too late. Rafe had to make his own choices. To prove, by himself, that he could be the husband and father he vowed he would be.
And he could see it in your eyes â the looming possibility of heartbreak standing next to the motherly instinct to protect your daughter. He could see the battle in your mind in the reflection of your eyes.
And he hated that he was the reason for it.
On the drive home, all he could see was red â his father's indecisiveness and unwillingness to give Rafe the recognition within the company that he deserved, sending him down a path he'd abandoned long ago.
But as he stood, staring at you, his wife, the mother of his only child, in the eyes â he recognized just how badly he was hurting those who actually cared about him.
Your hand held out in front of him is what pulled him from his thoughts, pulled him from his rage. "...Either give me the bottle and go calm down, or me and Eve will be gone by morning, and you'll be left to clean up the pieces, by yourself this time." The words pained you to say, but they were necessary.
Rafe needed to be pulled back to reality, to be reminded that his actions had consequences, that he wasn't just an individual anymore â he was part of a whole. He was a husband, a father, a part of a family. Your family.
And if he wanted to keep it together, then he needed to act like it.
One drink wasn't worth losing either of you, he realized. And with that realization and a deep breath, he lowered his arm, handing you the open bottle.
A weight was lifted off your chest at the possibility of having to tear apart the family you wished upon stars for, that you cherished so much.
Taking the bottle from Rafe's grasp, you wasted no time in pouring it down the drain â watching the amber liquid flow, your heart just a little bit lighter.
"...I'm sorry," you heard Rafe mumble from beside you, turning to find him standing with a forlorn look on his face.
You sighed, placing the empty bottle beside the sink, leaning your back on the edge of it. "I won't lie to you and say it's fine. Because it's not, Rafe," you started, looking your husband in the eyes. "I understand you're upset. We all get upset. And I know you want to scream and break something and lash out at everyone, but you can't. Because it's not just about you anymore." You explained, throwing a hand out in the direction of your daughter's nursery. "I'm exhausted enough as is. I can't mother you, too. I won't."
Rafe nodded, dragging a hand down his face. "No, I get it. I get it..." His voice lowered as his eyes grew glossy. "I just feel like, every time I do something right, something goes wrong and sends me back so far, and I can'tâ" He cut himself off, a tear rolling down his face as he turned away from you.
"...Hey," you stepped closer, a hand on his shoulder. "I'm here. I'm always going to be here, Rafe. As long as you're there for yourself, too. I love you, and I married you because I love you for who I know you are. So, I'll always help you. But I just don't want you to throw yourself off a cliff and expect me to go with you. That's not what this family is." You comforted, hugging him from the back.
The sound of your daughter's soft cries broke through the light tension in the room, Rafe's neck snapping towards the sound. "Shit. I didn't wake her, did I? I'm sorry, I know it probably took forever to put her downâ"
"It's okay," you squeezed your husband from behind, ducking under his arms to stand in front of him as his own hands went to your waist. "She was actually asleep for most of the day, she's probably hungry." You reassured Rafe. "Do you want to feed her? I think she missed her dad..." You spoke softly, running a hand down his chest as the other wiped his face free of tears.
"Yeah," he nodded. "I missed her, too. Both of you." He smiled faintly, kissing the top of your forehead. "I'm still learning, but I'll get it right one day, okay? I promise." Rafe told you, ducking down to peck you on the lips.
"I appreciate that," you whispered, lips just barely touching his as he pulled away. "And I appreciate you. Let me go and get her," you told Rafe, pulling away and going to get Eve from her room, returning to the kitchen with her in tow.
Rafe's eyes immediately lit up at the sight of his daughter, a genuine smile forming on his face. "Hi, Princess," he cooed, arms outstretched as he took her from you. "I missed you all day..." He spoke softly to her. "C'mon, let's get some food in you."
You smiled at the sight of your small family, something you'd always dreamed of. It wasn't perfect, quite far from it, but it was safe, stable, and most importantly, it was yours.
Summary: Yn Ln and Rafe Cameron have been best friends since literal birth. They grew up celebrating every birthday, holiday, and occasion together. Their families had always joked about them growing up and getting married someday⊠but they never needed more from eachother than a friendship. This Summer tensions are running high in many ways⊠Will their friendship survive? Or might they discover that they have been needing something more?
Summary: Yn Ln and Rafe Cameron have been best friends since literal birth. They grew up celebrating every birthday, holiday, and occasion together. Their families had always joked about them growing up and getting married someday⊠but they never needed more from eachother than a friendship. This Summer tensions are running high in many ways⊠Will their friendship survive? Or might they discover that they have been needing something more?
How would bsf!Rafe react if someone called themselves readerâs best friend?
She Already Has One, Thanks
bsf!Rafe x bsf!Reader
someone calls themselves your best friend. rafe does not take it well.
âž»
Youâre mid-laugh when it happens.
Some guyâsomeone you barely know but had one class with freshman yearâleans a little too close at the bonfire and says, âMan, I forgot how funny you are. We should hang out more. Best friend vibes for sure.â
Youâre still smiling when you feel it: the tension shift, like the air changes. A beat later, Rafe materializes at your side like he was summoned, hand gripping your shoulder, voice low and pointed.
âBest friend?â
The guy blinks, confused. âYeah?â
Rafe raises a brow. âOf hers?â
You try not to laugh. âRafeââ
âNo, no. Iâm just wondering,â he cuts you off, arms now folded across his chest like heâs interrogating someone. âYou got, like, a form you filled out for that? Was there a tryout? Or did you just decide that?â
The guy looks completely lost now. âIt was a joke, dude.â
âRight,â Rafe says, deadpan. âHilarious.â
You elbow him. âJesus.â
He ignores you and tugs you back a step, placing himself fully between you and the guy like youâre suddenly in danger of being recruited into a new friendship cult.
Once youâre out of earshot, you finally burst out laughing. âYou good?â
He scowls. âNo. What kind of random calls you their best friend??â
âIt was a joke.â
âHe said it twice.â
Youâre still laughing when he turns to face you, arms now looping around your waist like heâs trying to calm himself down through physical proximity.
âI just think itâs wild that people throw that word around like it means nothing,â he mumbles. âWeâve known each other forever. I know how you take your coffee, I know your favorite movie and your least favorite scene, I know you fake laugh when youâre uncomfortable, and I know you get real quiet when youâre overwhelmed.â
You blink, a little breathless now. âYou do.â
He nods, a little too proud. âYeah. So no offense, but unless that dude knows about the year you had an actual obsession with Harry Potter fanfictionââ
âRAFE.â
ââhe doesnât get to call you his best friend.â
Youâre red in the face now, but grinning. âYouâre ridiculous.â
âIâm correct.â
You loop your arms around his neck, nose brushing his. âFine. You win. Youâre my best friend.â
âDamn right I am.â He presses a kiss to your cheek, then adds, smug, âDonât forget it.â
You roll your eyes, but donât pull away.
Best friend. Certified. No substitutes accepted.
a/n: lmaooo i just know rafe does not play when it comes to you. someone says âbest friendâ and heâs stepping in like âactually that titleâs taken, thanks.â no one is more competitive and petty than a best friend in love. also so sorry this took me so long to get to, thank you for the request angel!! đ«¶đ»
Summary: Yn Ln and Rafe Cameron have been best friends since literal birth. They grew up celebrating every birthday, holiday, and occasion together. Their families had always joked about them growing up and getting married someday⊠but they never needed more from eachother than a friendship. This Summer tensions are running high in many ways⊠Will their friendship survive? Or might they discover that they have been needing something more?
Summary: Yn Ln and Rafe Cameron have been best friends since literal birth. They grew up celebrating every birthday, holiday, and occasion together. Their families had always joked about them growing up and getting married someday⊠but they never needed more from eachother than a friendship. This Summer tensions are running high in many ways⊠Will their friendship survive? Or might they discover that they have been needing something more?
Series Masterlist
authorâs note: lmk if you want to be added to the taglist
summary: Struggling to keep her and JJâs home afloat, Y/N turns to the only option that guarantees fast cash- stripping at a club on the Cut. But when Rafe Cameron catches her in the act, he sees the perfect opportunity to tighten his grip around her life.
a/n: Whelp- after 2 months of waiting here's what everyone's been longing for.... Jeez Louise, I did re-write and re-read this a few times cause it's pretty intense so I hope you all feel the same heart shattering feeling I did when I re-read this for the last time.
warnings: angst angst angst, extremely violent behaviour, abuse, broken bottles, bleeding, implication of drug abuse, alcohol, injuries, abusive father, domestic abuse, mentions of past trauma, sad!rafe, sad!bunny, soft!rafe.
The silence clung to the walls like thick and choking smoke and the heels sat perfectly placed on the coffee table like some cruel centre piece. Her eyes couldnât leave them. Her chest was so tight she felt like her throat was constricted as she stood frozen. It was quiet except for the low buzz of the lamp beside Luke, shadows flickering on the walls and across his face. She could hear the faint hum of the fridge in the kitchen but every mundane noise around her felt too loud- like the whole house was holding its breath just like she was. Luke shifted, just slightly, a lazy movement of him casually leaning back into the couch, his eyes flicked up to her with a sick kind of amusement,
âDidnât think Iâd find out, huh?â
His voice was gravelly, thick with liquor and something else that she'd become much too familiar with- something clearly much stronger and it clung to every word. She didnât answer right away, her mouth was too dry and her fingers were twitching at her sides, but she forced herself not to flinch. Her heart thudded against her ribs like it wanted to escape.
Run.
Hide.
She felt⊠small.
Small in the way she hadnât felt in years, small like a little girl caught with something behind her back waiting for the consequence. But she vowed to herself years ago that she wasnât a little girl anymore, so she straightened. Her spine stiff, shoulders squaring as much as she could manage under the weight pressing down on her. She made her voice as steady as she could, dragging the words up from somewhere deep inside her chest as she took a few steps away from the front the door into the house.
âI donât know what youâre talking about...â
She hated how it sounded, too light, too rehearsed and much too defensive. Luke didnât move- he didnât need to. His presence was already a vice around her lungs. Instead he just gave a low, bitter laugh, shaking his head like she was the one being ridiculous.
âNo?â he rasped, âThen maybe these just walked in all on their own...?â
He nodded toward the shoes with a mocking jerk of his chin and she swallowed thickly, jaw tightening,
âYou went through my stuff-â
â-I live here, donât I?â
He slurred, as if that made his actions justified. As if being under this roof gave him permission to dig into pieces of her that didnât belong to him- that she'd worked so incredibly hard to keep a secret.
âYou have no rightââ
â-I have every right to know what my daughterâs doing for money.â He leaned forward now moving his elbows on his knees and even in the dim light she could see the bloodshot gleam in his eyes.
âSo tell me sweetheart, how much do they pay you to walk around like a whore?â
The word hit like a slap and her whole body went stiff. There it was. No more dancing around the subject. No more fake passive tone- heâd said it out loud, and it sounded ugly. Her nails dug into her palms and the heat behind her eyes built fast, but she blinked it back.
âDonât call me that.â
She said, voice low and he smirked like it was funny. Like she was amusing him, then he took a sip from his glass the melting ice clinking lazily around the small amount of liquid left.
âWhy not? That's what you do, right? You dance for men- let âem stuff their dirty little bills wherever they want. Bet you like that, huh?â
She wanted to scream, to throw something at him and run. But she didnât, she stood her ground, even though every part of her felt like it was going to collapse in on itself. She whispered out bitterly,
âYou donât know anything about meâ
âOh- I know enough.â
His words slurred at the edges a cold silence fell between them again. She looked at him- really looked at him. The man sitting on the couch wasnât a father. Not the kind sheâd spent her childhood wishing would show up to school plays or bandage her scraped knees. This was just a shell, hollowed out and rotting from the inside out, drenched and drowning in whiskey and maybe it had always been this way. She took a breath, the weight of it cutting sharp through her lungs.
âNo you don'tâ
"Someoneâs feeling brave tonight.â
Lukeâs mouth twitched into something mean but she didnât flinch- she refused to give him the satisfaction her cowering. Even when he stood up, her eyes didnât leave the shoes on the coffee table. He stumbled slightly as he rose, and the half-empty glass heâd abandoned wobbled on the edge of the table where he'd placed it down. She took a breath, deep and slow and the floorboard beneath her creaked quietly in the otherwise suffocating silence around them.
âWhere did you get those?â
She asked, voice low but clear whilst her eyes flicked up from the heels to his face, searching for confirmation of what she already knew. Luke was already pushing himself further away from the couch, movements sluggish, as he uncoordinatedly dragged his shoes against the floor. He swayed toward her, close enough now that she could smell it, cheap whiskey that clung to him.
âNone of your damn business.â
Her jaw tightened, âThey were under my bed,â she said slower this time, âwhy were you in my room....â He didnât answer right away, just sneered. The lampâs light hit the sharp planes of his face, deepening the shadows under his eyes, casting an eerie glow along his jaw.
"Were you looking for mone-"
â-I said,â he repeated, his voice dropping into a slurred mockery, ânone of your goddamn business.â
She didnât flinch, but she felt her pulse hammer in her throat. Her skin prickled with cold, even as heat burned in her chest. She said stiffly, crossing her arms, though her fingers trembled, âThey arenât mineâ He laughed then, an ugly sound that rattled in his chest and echoed around the living room. Not amused but spiteful. âOh, right,â he said, teeth bared in something that was definitely not a smile.
âRight. Some other girlâs little hooker heels live under your bed.â
Before she could say anything back, before the breath could even reach her lungs- he picked the heels up with one unsteady hand and hurled them. The sound was sharper than she expected, a hard clatter of plastic striking the floorboards, the left heel bouncing once before skidding to a stop at her feet. She didnât move- stood completely still- arms at her sides, fingers trembling faintly like static was moving beneath her skin. The heels lay crooked at her feet, their rhinestones catching the warm light and glinting like they were mocking her. The other rested just beside it, half-twisted, the clear strap folded in on itself like it was ashamed. Lukeâs breathing was ragged now, heavy in the quiet room. She could feel him watching her, could feel the pressure of his gaze, like it was trying to crawl under her skin, tear into whatever defences she had left. âGo on,â he muttered,
âPick âem up, you need âem for your shift tonight.â
Y/N's vision sharpened, then blurred around the edges as she kept her eyes on the shoes. She wanted to scream, wanted to cry, but instead she swallowed hard and she said nothing because if she opened her mouth now, she wasnât sure what would come out. Not even as her father narrowed his bloodshot eyes at her, studying her with the kind of loathing that seeps deeper than a blade. Her spine stayed stiff and she slowly meets his stare. She refuses to drop her gaze. Luke lets out a rough exhale, then turns, staggering back toward the couch. She watches every movement like a hawk, the weight of her heartbeat thunderous in her ears. He reaches for a bottle on the table, half-balanced between ashtrays and pill bottles. His fingers curl around the neck of it and he tips it back. Nothing. The bottleâs empty. He stares at it, eyes vacant and lips curling in disgust and thenâ
He turns and throws the glass bottle across the room.
The sound is sudden. It hits the wall just behind her and shatters, exploding into glittering shards like fireworks. She gasps- a small, strangled sound- and her hands instinctively fly up to shield herself as fragments rain down and clink against the floor. One shard bounces and skims across her arm, leaving a stinging trail of red. Sheâs still frozen, chest rising and falling too fast, breath catching in her throat. Lukeâs voice cuts through the moment, âYouâre just like your mother,â he spits, tone low and cruel.
âWhoring yourself out to the whole damn island.â
Her stomach drops, âStop,â she breathes,âStop it.â She tries to keep her voice even, but it quivers as she glances toward the hallway- toward the small, cracked door at the end... JJâs room. She canât- he canât hear this. Her voice sharpens, panicked.
âPlease. Justâ keep your voice down or you'll wake him up.â
Luke ignores her- he smirks, âWhat?â he taunts. âYouâre embarrassed now?â He throws his head back and laughs amused,
âYouâre embarrassed aren't you-â
â-stop raising your voice!â
She snaps, quieter than before but more desperate, her words shaking, âPlease stop.â He steps toward her again. Too fast. She doesnât even have time to move as he grabs her chin- fingers digging in hard, rough- yanking her face up to meet his. The pressure sends a bolt of pain through her jaw and she lets out a quiet gasp.
âShut the fuck upâ
He growls, his breath is hot and too close flooding her senses smothering her. Her eyes sting, and her heart is thudding against her ribs so loud it might claw its way through her skin. Her breath is barely there now, shallow and trembling. She doesnât dare look toward JJâs door again. For a moment- just a breath- thereâs stillness and Lukeâs hand drops from her chin, fingers uncurling like a slow release of pressure. She exhales shakily, chest tight with dread. Her face throbs where his grip had been but he let go and maybe that means heâs donâ
His arm swings.
The slap comes without warning- a violent CRACK echoing through the small living room like a gunshot. Her head whips to the side from the impact and a choked sound leaves her throat, barely a cry. Her vision goes white for a second as the sting blooms across her cheekbone. She stumbles backward- legs buckling- and she crashes down hard onto the floor. Her hip hits the edge of a chair, knocking it sideways. Wood scrapes across the floor, loud and jarring and she lands on her ass with a thud, palms hitting the ground to catch herself. Sheâs dazed her ears ringing and the room sways slightly.
From down the hall, thereâs the creak of a door opening.
â...What the hell?â
JJâs voice, groggy, still thick with sleep as he mumbles more to himself than anyone else. His figure rounds the corner, rubbing his eyes with the bottom of his t-shirt which is rumpled from sleep. But then he stops- freezes mid-step. His eyes drop to the scene, Y/N on the floor dazed one hand holding the side of her face, a toppled chair beside her. They hadnât spoken since their argument and even though it cut them deep and left them both angry and raw, it didnât matter now. Whatever was said, whatever tension hung between them, he wasnât about to stand there and watch their father raise a hand to her. Not after all the times sheâd stood up for him- shielded him, defended him when no one else would. Luke staggered forward again with his hand raised like heâs about to strike again and JJâs whole body snaps into motion.
âHey-!â
He grabs Lukeâs wrist mid-air just before it can strike and shoves him back hard. Luke stumbles, nearly tripping over the coffee table but steadies himself with a growl, face flushed with rage and drunkenness. His eyes burn with fury as he shoves JJ right back, sending him a step back toward the wall, feet barely avoiding the broken glass on the floor by his feet. JJ doesnât stumble far- heâs too steady for that and the second he finds his footing again, he attempts to put himself between Y/N and their father. His arm automatically moves in front of her like a shield but Lukeâs chest is heaving his voice slurring with venom as he spits over JJ's shoulder to the girl on the floor,
âGet out of this house.â
The words cut through the space harshly. Y/Nâs ears are still ringing, but she hears it and it's like a slap all over again. Her head lifts slowly, lips parted. â...What?â Her voice is weak, barely a whisper whilst JJâs eyes flash with confusion,
âWhat?â
He echoes incredulous but Luke isnât listening. He pushes past JJ, snarling like a wild dog. And before either of them can react, he grabs Y/N by the hair- fist twisted tight as he yanks her up from the floor like a rag doll. She lets out a sharp cry, her hands flying up to grab at his arm, fingers scrabbling and nails digging into his skin. JJâs shout in protest breaks like thunder, hands already reaching to wrench her free, but Luke holds steadily, dragging her upward until sheâs on her knees, her neck straining under the pull. The pain is blinding and her scalp screams at the pressure- vision going spotty and through it all her heart pounds. âStop.â JJâs voice comes low and firm, no longer confused, no longer groggy and his hands are on Luke again, trying to pry him off her.
âDad get off of herâ
Heâs practically wrestling Luke now, arms locked around his to break his grip. Y/Nâs face is tight with pain quiet whimpers escaping her lips involuntarily, her knees barely finding balance on the hardwood, her scalp still burning from the pull.
âJJ stop-â
She gasps out, voice cracking, because although she doesn't want to admit it she knows this can get worse. Luke snarls and shoves JJ back, catching him off balance. The blonde boy stumbles, trying to recover, but Luke follows fast and grabs him by the collar of his T-shirt, jerking him forward like he weighs nothing. Then he shoves JJ back so violently, he knocks his shin on the coffee table and flies into the couch. The cushions buckle under his weight, and he hits the backrest hard, a grunt punched out of him as the wind is knocked from his lungs. He curls forward slightly, hand on his ribs, trying to catch his breath.
âJayââ
Y/N calls out as she pushes herself up and takes a step toward him, reaching out instinctively- but Luke catches her by the back of her top. He wrenches her to a stop like he owns her and her breath catches in her throat as she feels the fabric of her shirt pull tight around her collarbones, choking her slightly. Voice like acid Luke speaks out;
âI wonât have a prostitute in my house.â
Itâs not shouted, itâs spat, full of filth and shame.
Her entire body goes still, not just frozen- but paralysed, like her soul stepped out of her skin. JJ looks up at them, finally catching enough air to sit upright again and for the first time since he appeared, he hears what this argument is even about. Every nerve in the room goes electric and the silence that follows is louder than the violence. Y/Nâs face pales and her jaw tightens- but her eyes⊠theyâre glassy. Because in that moment, her worst fear is real- JJ's looking at her eyes wide and unmoving
He's still sitting on the couch his chest rising and falling, watching. Watching frozen as Luke picks up the heels from the floor and hurls them across the room. They bounce off Y/Nâs thigh with a sharp thud, then clatter uselessly to the floor by her feet again. She flinches, her lip trembling, tears gathering like stormwater.
âDad... pleaseâ
She whispers, her voice wrecked, her hands up now palms half-raised like sheâs pleading, not sure whether to defend herself or beg. Luke turns, sneering like a madman, he points at her but addresses JJ,
âYour sister hereâs been slutting herself out to the whole islandâ His head tips mockingly, his tone acidic.
âHavenât you sweetheart?â
She breaks- just completely breaks. âPlease,â she cries, her voice ragged, barely recognizable.
"Working as a fucking stripper thinking we wouldn't find out?
âPlease stopââ
âGET OUT OF MY HOUSE!â
He bellows and Y/N snaps back, trembling from head to toe. Her face is wet with tears, her eyes red and wide with disbelief.
âI pay for this house,â she chokes out, âI pay for everything-â
Lukeâs arm lashes out toward the table. His hand grabs a beer bottle, half-full, sticky, and hurls it at her CRASH. It explodes on the wall next to her and JJ flinches from his spot on the couch as the glass rains down scattering near her feet the warm alcohol landing in warm splatters over her skin.
âGET OUT!â
Luke roars out again, the veins in his neck pulsing. Sheâs sobbing now- deep, guttural, humiliating sobs sheâs never let out before, not in public, not even alone- never like this. Her gaze flicks to JJ, still slumped slightly forward on the couch. His face is blank and she can tell he's still stunned, still trying to process. Not just the violence but the truth behind his fathers words because surely this cant be true... Heâs never seen his father like this. Not this bad. âJJ,â she gasps out through her sobs.
âPlease I can explainâŠâ
But he doesnât move- he canât. His father is standing right in front of him, tall and wild and swaying like a storm with legs, casting a shadow over JJ like heâs eight years old again hiding defensively in his bedroom whilst he listens to his sister taking the blows of his fathers anger through the cracked wooden door.
âWe donât want your dirty fucking moneyâ
Luke snarls, he spits the words out each syllable laced with years of resentment and JJ finally starts to rise, hands bracing against the cushions but Luke is already on her. He storms over to her like a force of nature, grabbing her by the arm, yanking her toward the front door.
âGet off meâ
She sobs through her tears, but itâs useless. âY/N!?â JJ calls out, but heâs caught between the couch and Luke as the older man throws open the door like itâs nothing, pushing her onto the porch. Her feet stumble, scraping over the wood as she tries to gain footing but Luke is relentless.
JJ pushes through the doorway now protests falling from his mouth, but Luke has momentum. He manhandles her through the porch, down the steps, and shoves her hard- her knees hit the grass outside the house. She lands with a choked sob, both palms and knees scraping against the dirt, her breath punched from her lungs as she crumples in the dark yard. The porch light flickers above her like itâs ashamed and JJ follows after her, heart pounding, reaching out but Luke twists back and-
Slams a palm into JJâs face.
âNO!â
Y/N cries out from the ground as JJ stumbles back hand flying to his cheek, eyes narrowed in pain as the sting sets in. Blood flushes to the surface, his tanned skin blooming with the red shape of a palm. Luke turns his head back towards her slowly, locking eyes with her again. His lip curling with disgust,
âDonât fucking come back,â he growls, low and final. âYou hear me?â
He turns to JJ grunting out, âGet inâ
Luke mutters his voice sour, then he shoves the blonde boy one firm hand in the centre of JJâs chest pushing him hard enough that he stumbles backward into the house, nearly tripping over the edge of the carpet. JJ barely catches himself, breath hitching in his throat. Luke doesnât look at him again, instead, he turns back to the porch, to the night, to her. Y/N is still on her knees in the grass, chest heaving with desperate sobs, her arms limp now at her sides. The tears streak her cheeks like messy rivers and Luke sneers at the sight of her like sheâs filth he stepped in and then he lifts his arm again.
Whip
The heels sail through the air- those stupid plastic heels. They hit the ground a few feet away from her with a soft thud, not nearly dramatic enough for how much they meant meerly a few moments ago. One lands upside down, the other on its side.
Pitiful.
Y/N stares at them.
Settled awkwardly in the grass like discarded trash, like theyâre a symbol of everything she tried to hide, everything she gave up to survive. Luke stands there in the doorway just second longer, long enough to let the insult settle into the silence between them.
SLAM
The door crashes shut behind him, the frame trembling and Y/N is left outside alone in the dark. On her knees surrounded by the pieces of her life now scattered in the grass. She doesnât know how long sheâs been sitting there, couldâve been five minutes, couldâve been twenty. Time stopped making sense the moment the door slammed behind her, the moment the grass kissed her knees and refused to let go. Her legs are numb now, tingling from the way she's been sat in this kneeling position. Stiff from how sheâs been folded on them like a prayer left unanswered. Her breath still hitches every so often broken, shivering sobs leaving her in empty exhales.
Eventually, with a soft whimper of effort, she drags herself forward. The grass is dry beneath her palms, dust rough against her skin as she reaches for the shoes- the stupid fucking heels. She picks them up, fingers curling around the plastic, the weight of them suddenly so heavy it makes her stomach twist and then she stands on shaky legs.
She doesn't even look back at the house.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Y/N sits in her car the engine off, the world around her still. Sheâs in the parking lot tucked-away in their spot. Hidden from the rest of the world. Her arms rest heavy in her lap and the heels sit beside her on the passenger seat, one of the straps dangling limply. Her fingers twitch, the pads of them an angry red. Her hands sting with every shift- scraped and bruised from the way she'd hit the ground. Her knees burn too, and her cheek is swollen and hot, the imprint of Lukeâs hand still burning on her skin like a brand. Her head feels like it might split open from the ache thumping behind her eyes.
It all hurts.
Inside and out
Her hands weakly fumble into her back pocket, digging through the fabric until she finds it- her phone. When she pulls it out, the screen is cracked, not enough to kill it but spiderwebbed across the top corner. It mustâve been crushed when she fell- when Luke slapped her and her whole body crumpled like it wasnât hers. The screen lights up:
1:37 AM.
The numbers blur as her vision wavers, her thumb hovers for a second and then moves before she can stop herself. Before she can think and before she can remember all the reasons she shouldnât. She dials the number at the top of her call-list, it rings once then twice and her breath snags in her throat.
âY/N?â
Rafeâs voice rings out rough and confused, it can be heard the way his tone changes over the phone, like he feels her discomforting silence crawling through the line.
âWhatâs wrong?â
Her lips part but nothing comes out just air and pain and then- she breaks. The sob rips out of her so fast, so hard, it nearly chokes her up in the process. She curls over herself in the driverâs seat, her forehead pressing to the steering wheel, phone clutched so tight to her ear it might snap âY/N- hey, hey,â Rafe says, instantly alert now, voice taut,
âAre you okay? What's wrong? Talk to me- speak to me please...â
She canât get words out, just more sobs start to wrack her body, more gasps for breath as fat tears start to drip down onto her thighs as she sits hunched over.
âWhere are you, baby?â he asks, voice cracking with worry. âWhere are youââ
â-our spot...â
She whispers, itâs the only thing she can manage, a broken little breath between sobs. He doesnât hesitate after her voice slips through his phone speaker.
âOkay. Okay- stay there, yeah? Stay right thereâ
He says already moving. You can hear it in the background through the scraping of a chair against hard wood floor followed by the shuffle of keys and a door opening and closing.
âIâm coming- Iâm coming right now just hold on for me okay?â
She nods even though he canât see it, phone still pressed against her cheek, tears spilling faster now. He doesn't put the phone down - instead keeps their call going- his hearing straining for her every little breath to have some kind of sign she's still there- she's still okay. As Rafe slid into his car, his mind flickered back to just hours before, to the words that had rooted themselves in his skull, echoing on a brutal loop no matter how hard he tried to shut them out.
âI canât do this with you, Rafe.â
Sheâd said it with tears in her eyes, voice breaking as she backed away like he was something that disgusted her- something dangerous. And maybe he was. But he hadnât expected the rejection to feel like this, like something ripping open inside him. His grip tightened around the wheel as he remembered how heâd just stood there in the lot of the country club after she drove off, his eyes fixed on the empty space her car had occupied like she might somehow reappear if he stared long enough. He didnât even remember the drive back to Tannyhill, just the heaviness pressing in on him.
Heâd gone straight into his fatherâs office and sat in the leather chair like a ghost. Motionless and numb. The desk drawer had remained closed, but his thoughts had locked on it all the same, on the small plastic baggie inside that he hadnât touched in months. The urge was there gnawing at him from the inside, whispering to him.
But he never reached for it.
Because then the call came.
And now, as he pulled out of Tannyhillâs tall gates, headlights cutting through the dark, her voice still echoed in his ear, this time not distant and cold but raw and trembling. Even after everything sheâd said to him, after heâd laid his heart bare and sheâd begged him not to make her feel something she wasnât ready for- he didnât hesitate.
Not for a single second.
Sheâd shut him down, left him standing there with his love hanging heavy between them but this? Her voice breaking on the other end of the line- scared, small and needing him?
Thereâs no version of the world where he won't run to her.
Time doesnât move the way it used to, instead it feels like it stretches, she can't even tell how much time has passed since she first dialled his number. Her phoneâs still pressed against her cheek the sound of the cars's repetitive turn signal filling the phone speaker.
Sheâs shifted now, her feet hanging out the open door of her car, her side pressed into the back of the seat. Her knees are drawn up a little, arm which isn't holding the phone is wrapped around herself, fingers gripping onto the material of her once white work polo. Her body aches in every direction, sharp stings in her hands and knees, the throb in her cheek- it's almost unbearable, and her head?
It aches so badly.
From all the crying.
She didnât know it was possible to cry this much, didnât know there could still be more left to spill. She sniffles softly, wiping at her eyes, but it does nothing. The tears keep coming. Slow and silent. Her throat is raw, her breathing shallow and sheâs so tired it feels like her bones are humming. She's broken out of her trance when headlights sweep across the lot and her eyes flicker up. The familiar sleek black Range Rover rolls in slow, pulling up a few yards away from her car. It cuts its engine, and for the smallest second, the world is quiet until the driverâs door flings open. Rafe is out of the car before it fully settles, rounding it quickly, shoes hitting against the cement and he doesnât hesitate as he jogs over to her. He doesnât say anything at first just sees her- really sees her- and his whole face drops.
Her smeared makeup.
The swelling on her cheek.
The trembling in her hands.
The way her eyes, red and puffy, meet his with so much hurt it nearly floors him.
âItâs okay.â
He exhales softly, stepping up to her and thatâs all it takes because she's breaking again, crumpling forward with a soft wrecked sob, her body tipping forward her head falling against him right into his stomach as he stands in front of her. He stiffens for the briefest second, startled by the sudden contact, her body curling so small against him. But then, without a word, one of his hands comes up to her head- fingers gently running over her hair, stroking carefully, tenderly. The other hand rubs slow circles into her back. He doesnât flinch at the sound of her sobs soaking into his t-shirt. He doesnât push her away- doesn't dare- he just holds her, anchors her the best he can. Itâs quiet, just the sound of waves in the distance and her breathing uneven against him. Eventually, he gently guides her back to lean against the car seat, crouching down to her level. One hand lifts to her face. His thumb traces over the edge of her cheekbone, featherlight over the angry red skin, his touch is heartbreakingly soft. "Talk to me hmm?â he murmurs, voice low, eyes searching hers.
âWhat happened?â
Her lips part and her throat works but no sound comes out- not at first. Her eyes blink slow and heavy, glassy with exhaustion and then her voice finally breaks.
âI donât have anywhere to go.â
The words come out small and fuck- he feels it in his chest like a punch, something fierce and ugly rising in his throat. His jaw clenches, heart physically aching at the way she says it- like sheâs apologising for even existing. He kneels properly now, closer, palms on either side of her arms, grounding her.
"I don't know what to do I- I- dont know-"
âItâs okay- just breathe Y/N. You look like you're about to pass out just breathe baby.â
He says it again, quieter this time. As he kneels fully in front of her, his eyes flicker over her, taking in the brunt of her injuries, and for a second, everything slows. Her hands are both scraped raw, skin irritated and dirt-smeared, little pieces of gravel stuck to her palms. Her knees are red and scuffed, theres a cut on her arm, a thin slash still weeping slightly with red. Her cheek- god her cheek? Itâs red and swollen, blooming with a bruised hue, the shape of a handprint faint but unmistakable. Her eyes are watery, lashes stuck together and mascara smudged from the crying. Her hairâs a mess looking like it's been tugged viciously out of place, and her whole body looks like itâs fighting just to stay upright. âCâmon,â he says, his voice quiet but urgent now, thumb brushing lightly against her arm to get her to look at him.
âWe need to get you to a doctor-â
â-no.â
It comes out before he even finishes. She shakes her head hard, panicked, her body tensing.
âNo Rafe. No doctors... please.â
He exhales sharply, biting down on the inside of his cheek as he runs a hand over his buzzed hair. Heâs not mad at her- not at her. Heâs mad at this. At everything that got her to this point. At the fact that sheâs more scared of being helped than staying hurt. âY/N,â he says, voice lower now, gentler in fear of scaring her.
âYouâre hurtââ
âPlease.â Her voice cracks. âNo doctors Rafe- please donât make me, they'll ask questions and I can't-.â
Her voice cracks at the end of the sentence and it makes his jaw tick, chest rising and falling in a sigh, but finally he just nods, forcing the tension out of his shoulders as he drops his hand to her knee. âOkay,â he says softly. âOkay. No doctors.â He stares at her for another moment, quiet, then says,
â...but youâre coming back with me to Tannyhill. Youâre not staying out here by yourself.â She doesnât answer right away, she looks unsure- frightened, even. âI know itâs not ideal,â he says quickly noticing her shift in expression, âbut youâll be safe- Iâll take care of you. I wonât let anything happen to you, alright?â
She bites her lip, staring down at the floor by the car, her hands clenching and unclenching slowly which makes her skin burn. Sheâs weighing it all, but sheâs so drainedâmentally, physically. Sheâs got nothing left in her so she nods, just once, barely there.
âOkayâ
She whispers out and relief floods him. It doesnât show on his face much, but he breathes it out, slow and quiet. He pushes himself up and gently helps her out of the car. She leans on him more than she realises, and he doesn't mind- he holds her steady, supporting her like sheâs made of glass. She asks weakly as they near his Range Rover.
âWhat about my car?â
âIâll come back and get it later don't worry 'bout thatâ
He says softly and she starts to open her mouth to argue, but nothing comes out- she just lets her eyes drop. Thereâs no fight left in her, certainly no energy to insist. He opens the passenger door for her and helps her in, mindful of every flinch, every wince she lets out subconsiously. Once sheâs seated, her head drops slightly against the headrest, eyes glazed.
âJust one second...â
He murmurs reaching across her. Rafe's fingers find the seatbelt and he buckles her in, she doesnât move really just stares at him silently. Rafe closes the door and rounds the front of the car, jaw clenched, hand in a tight fist as he moves because if he ever sees Luke Maybankâ
He doesnât even let himself finish the thought as he gets behind the wheel, and looks over at her again noting her eyes closed peacefully as she rests against her head against the seat.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The house is quiet for a place so big, just the faint creak of the old leather couch as Y/N shifts a little, pulling the blanket tighter around her shoulders, her knees drawn up to her chest. A glass of whiskey sits in her hands which had been sipped at with shaky breaths like it was the only thing tethering her to the room. Rafe is sitting on the couch across from her, leaned forward slightly, forearms resting on his knees, a drink in his hand too- but the liquid in his glass hasnât moved since he poured it. Itâs more for her sake really, just so she wouldnât feel alone in whatever comfort she was trying to pull from it.
Heâd cleaned her up the moment they got in, didnât even give her the space to protest against him. He'd brought out the first aid kit he roughly knew how to use from times when his words did nothing but cause harm, and he wiped at the scrapes on her hands and knees with disinfectant, quiet apologies falling from his mouth every time she flinched. He wrapped her knees in a thin gauze, not too tight but enough to provide some pressure. An old bag of frozen vegetables came out of the freezer next, and he pressed it gently to her cheek before he handed it off to her to hold for herself. If sheâd asked, he wouldâve stayed right there beside her, holding it to her cheek himself all night until his arm ached and went numb from how long heâd been doing it.
But she didn't ask.
So instead they'd just⊠sat.
An hour passed, then another, and another and neither of them said a word. She hadnât looked at him- but he never took his eyes off her.
Not once.
Now, the bag of vegetables was melted and her thumb was brushing slowly along the rim of her glass her eyes distant, stuck somewhere far away from the safety of his home. Thereâs still dirt under her nails and a small piece of bandaid is peeling at the edge from where she's been picking at it unconsciously. Her voice is so soft he almost doesnât catch it.
âYou shouldâve seen the way he looked at me...â
Her eyes donât lift as she speaks out, she just keeps staring down at the floor like it might open up and swallow her whole. Rafeâs whole body stills at her voice, his fingers tightening slightly around his untouched drink.
"Who...?"
Her voice is more breath than sound as she adds but doesn't answer his question,
âHe was disgusted by me.â
He wants to ask, but something in his chest already knows.
Thereâs only one person sheâd care enough about for it to hurt this much. Only one person whose opinion could shatter her like this and it makes his jaw tense as he looks up to her, her shoulders are hunched in on themselves like sheâs trying to disappear. He swallows hard and purses his lips together.
He hates that he's right.
Rafe sets his drink down on the side table with a quiet clink of glass, the only sound in the room besides the crackling of the fire. She downs the rest of the whiskey in one breath- tilts the glass back and lets it burn its way down her throat, but it's still somehow not enough to dull the sharp edges of whatâs pressing down on her chest. When she places the empty glass on the table, it clinks gently the sound little in the big room.
âI should go to sleepâ
She mumbles, barely above a whisper. Rafe nods from where heâs been watching her, wordless, careful not to crowd her. He stands slowly, smooth and steady, then waits for her to move. She rises on stiff legs, blanket still clutched around her shoulders, and she follows him without a word. The hallways of Tannyhill are dim, lit only by the warm lights spaced along the walls and her footsteps are quiet behind his as he ascends the stairs.
He pushes open a bedroom door, stepping aside for her. The room is something out of a magazine, the walls are soft coloured, a large four-poster bed dressed in white sheets and a comforter that looks as soft as clouds. Thereâs a matching dresser and wardrobe, polished and antique. A wide window is curtained off with thick drapes which pool slightly on the floor preventing any light from coming in, and to the right a door sits cracked open, leading into a private en-suite bathroom. On the foot of the bed, a neatly folded pile of clothes waits for her- his clothes. A black t-shirt and a pair of grey sweatpants accompanied by a soft-looking towel. Rafe lingers by the door not wanting to push her boundaries as he speaks out,
âIâm a few doors down...â
He says, voice soft, hand gripping the edge of the door frame like he doesnât want to leave her alone but knows he needs to give her space,âIf you need anything just tell me. Iâm not gonna close my door so you can find meâ
âOkayâ
She nods slowly, barely moving and he holds her gaze for a second longer, his expression unreadable, then closes her door with a quiet click. Sheâs left alone with the silence, her eyes flick down to the clothes. Her fingers curl around the fabric of the t-shirt first, soft from too many washes. It smells like him. Like fresh detergent and musk, it makes her chest twist. She slips out of her clothes and into the t-shirt, then pulls the sweatpants on. She looks toward the en-suite for a second and she knows she should go in to wash her face and brush her teeth. But she also knows thereâs a mirror in there, and she canât look at herself.
So, she leaves the towel on the end of the bed and climbs underneath the comforter, and exhales slowly as her aching body sinks into the mattress. The pillows are insanely soft, moulding perfectly around her head and shoulders. The sheets are crisp and cool, freshly laundered, and they feel soothing against her sore, bruised skin. Every inch of the bed smells like luxury, like money and warmth, like a place she doesnât belong in but can finally let herself collapse inside of.
She doesnât cry this time.
Instead she simply lies there, curled on her side and buried in the bed, inhaling the scent of his t-shirt and the linen sheets whilst trying to remember how to breathe right.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The dirt bike skids to a stop outside the Chateau, its roar cutting through the dead hush of 2AM. JJ doesn't bother to park it properly- just lets it tip over and crash onto the ground as he hops off, boots hitting the dirt hard. Heâs at the door in seconds, flinging it open with a bang that echoes through the thin walls. Inside, itâs dark and still- until John B stumbles out of his room half-asleep, hair a mess, baseball bat gripped in his hands like he's ready to swing. âJJ ?â he blurts out, blinking in confusion.
âWhat the fuck, man? Itâs-â he checks the clock behind him, â-two in the goddamn morning.â
"Where is she?"
JJ doesnât even acknowledge the bat, his chest is heaving as his eyes dart around the dark house. John B lowers the bat a little, frowning,
âSarahâs sleeping, man. Whatâre youââ
âNo. Y/N."
JJâs voice cracks around the name as he asks again, "Where is she?â
John B pauses confused, âSheâs not here... ?â
JJ lets out a harsh exhale, running both hands through his hair before suddenly slamming his fist into the nearest thing sitting on the corner of the old table, an open cereal box. It hits the floor, scattering flakes across the dusty floorboards of the house. John B raises his brow,
âDude- can you not trash my house please?â
âSorryâ
JJ mutters, instantly like muscle memory and his hands drop, shoulders sagging. He stumbles backward and drops into the couch, his head falling into his hands. John B hesitates, then sets the bat down by the door and walks over, sinking down onto the old raggedy cushions beside him. He glances sideways.
âYou gonna tell me whatâs going on or do I have to guess?â
JJ doesnât answer just lets out a small groan at first, frustration deeply embedded in the sound. He sits there chest rising and falling a little too fast, like heâs still trying to calm down. Then, finally, he speaks his voice rough,
âMy dad⊠he lost it. Like really lost it tonight with her.â
âWith Y/N?â
JJ nods, jaw tightening. âI didnât know itâd be that bad. Iâve seen him go off before but heâŠâ He swallows hard, âI didnât even do anything- I froze. I just sat there and watched while he shoved her out the door.â
Thereâs a beat of silence and then John B says, softer now,
âWhereâd she go?â
JJâs fingers rake down his face, âI donât know. I thought maybe here. But- sheâs not picking up. She just kept repeating my name andâŠâ He shakes his head, â-and she was crying, man." John B exhales, sits back into the couch with a furrowed brow and JJ repeats himself,
"Like really crying.â
âShit.â
âYeahâ
"Why did he kick her out?"
John B leans forward, elbows to his knees, hair falling into his eyes as he rubs his hands over his face. JJ doesn't answer at first. Heâs biting at the skin of his thumb, anxious and raw, his leg bouncing like itâs the only thing keeping him upright. Then like something inside of him just snaps, he lets out a sharp breath and tells him everything. John Bâs brows pull together as he listens to his best friend, sympathy coursing through his veins.
From the dark of the bedroom, the thin crack of light from the hallway spills across Sarahâs face as she shifts in bed. Her hand reaches out groggily for John Bâs side of the mattress but itâs cold, the blanket already slipped down. She frowns, eyes cracking open. The room is empty. She sits up slowly, bare feet brushing against the wooden floor as she hears something, voices, muffled and low. She moves toward the door, careful and quiet, pressing her fingers against the edge to ease it open a little more. JJâs voice filters through, tense and tight.
"She was pregnant⊠and she went to him?"
Sarah freezes as JJ's voice drifts through the house once more,
"My sister went to Rafe fucking Cameron...?"
The words hit her like a gut punch- Pregnant? Y/N? And...- Rafe? Her blood runs cold as the pieces start to click together, her brain scrambling to make sense of what sheâs just heard. Her cheek stays pressed firmly into the door frame in attempt to hear the rest of the story spilling past the blonde boy's lips.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The sheets are soft, the pillows even softer, but sleep still wonât come. Itâs been two and a half hours and Y/N's been tossing and turning, her body sore in all the wrong places her chest heavy with that familiar awful ache that wonât go away no matter how tightly she pulls the sheets around her.
Eventually, she gives up and sits up slowly, pushing the comforter off her legs, the cotton whispering against the mattress smoothly. Her feet touch the floor which is cold against her skin and she stands- wobbly for a second- then steadier. The guest room door looms quietly ahead and she pauses fingers brushing over the handle. Then, with a shallow breath, she opens it. The hallway outside is dark, but not completely. Thereâs a bluish tint filtering in from the tall windows at the end of the hall, early morning light just beginning to rise casting long shadows across the wooden floors.
She pads down the hallway barefoot, arms wrapped tightly around her own middle. Her steps falter when she sees a photo on the wall- framed in gold and hung just opposite the railing of the stairs. Itâs of Rafe, much younger, standing with Sarah and Wheezie, arms slung around them, all three of them caught in time. She stares at it for a long second her lips parting just slightly. Thereâs something in her chest that clenches and she swallows it down before continuing on.
Rafeâs door is slightly cracked- just like he said itâd be. She stands in front of it for a moment and peers in, watching the rise and fall of his breath from across the room. Heâs asleep, facing away from the door, lying on his side with one arm tucked under the pillow. Her hand brushes the door open a little wider and she slips inside moving quietly like a ghost. She stops at the edge of the bed and for a moment she doesnât move.
Just stares at the empty space beside him.
Then- almost without thinking- she climbs under the covers. The sheets are warm where his body had heated them prior and she tucks herself into the bed, it feels so- natural. She hesitates again one breath, two... and then-
she shifts closer
Her body curls gently around his back, and her arm shakily slides over his waist, face tucking into the space between his shoulder blades. She closes her eyes and exhales against the fabric of his t-shirt clinging to the feeling of the rise and fall of his chest, like itâs the only thing keeping her tethered. His breathing is steady- peaceful.
He doesnât stir.
And for the first time all night, she feels something close to calm. Not happy but⊠safe. Like maybe the pieces of her wonât completely shatter if she stays like this just a little longer. Her fingers clutch gently at the hem of the bottom of his t-shirt, her eyes fluttering closed. And then so soft itâs almost not there at all, her lips brush against the fabric at his back as she whispers- like a confession, like a secret only the night should hear.
Summary: Yn Ln and Rafe Cameron have been best friends since literal birth. They grew up celebrating every birthday, holiday, and occasion together. Their families had always joked about them growing up and getting married someday⊠but they never needed more from eachother than a friendship. This Summer tensions are running high in many ways⊠Will their friendship survive? Or might they discover that they have been needing something more?
Summary: Yn Ln and Rafe Cameron have been best friends since literal birth. They grew up celebrating every birthday, holiday, and occasion together. Their families had always joked about them growing up and getting married someday⊠but they never needed more from eachother than a friendship. This Summer tensions are running high in many ways⊠Will their friendship survive? Or might they discover that they have been needing something more?
summary: Rafeâs been gone for a month, and youâve been missing your golden retriever of a best friend like crazy. You donât know heâs back until he shows up at a party, all smiles and soft eyesâand even with every girl in the room trying to talk to him, he only wants you.
âž»
You knew it was dumb to be mopey at a party, but Rafe was supposed to be back last weekend.
A whole month without your best friend had been hellânot just because you missed him, but because everything felt weird without him around. Your bed felt too big. Your texts felt too dry. No one else let you shove your freezing feet under their thighs during movie night without a single complaint.
And now here you were, at one of those end-of-summer parties that everyone insisted on going to, smiling politely while someone retold a story you didnât care about. Rafe was still in Georgia. Or maybe Virginia. Somewhere far. You hadnât heard from him in a couple days.
You were mid-sip of your drink, about to fake-laugh again, when the energy shifted.
You felt it before you saw itâsome weird little pulse in your chest like turn around.
So you did.
And standing by the back gate, in a hoodie and backwards hat and the most boyish grin youâd ever seen, was Rafe Cameron.
Your cup almost slipped right out of your hand.
âWhat theââ you started, but he was already moving.
You took a few quick steps toward him, heart hammering. âYou didnât tell me you were back!â
âI wanted to surprise you,â he said, arms open wide.
You walked straight into them.
He squeezed you so tight you actually squeaked, and he just laughed into your hair, the happiest sound youâd heard all month.
âI missed you so much bug,â he mumbled. âLike, painfully. I was about to start printing out your selfies and putting them on my motel nightstand.â
You smacked his chest but didnât let go.
âYouâre such an asshole,â you whispered. âI thought you werenât coming back till next week.â
âThat was the plan. But then I remembered you existed and couldnât stay away.â
You pulled back to look at him. âRafeââ
âI missed you,â he said again, like it wasnât obvious, like it hadnât been radiating off him since the moment you locked eyes. âDid you miss me?â
âNo,â you said, and he made a dramatic wounded face.
âRude.â
You finally smiled. âObviously I missed you, dummy.â
He beamed so big your chest actually hurt a little.
âž»
Ten minutes later, Rafe was swarmed.
He was leaning against a table near the drinks, catching up with the guys while you nursed your drink nearbyâbut now the girls had started to hover.
You watched it happen from a distance: light touches on his arm, giggly comments, someone twirling her hair and saying something flirty enough that you had to look away.
Still, you felt his eyes on you.
Every couple minutes, heâd glance over like he was making sure you were still there. Like if you left, heâd bolt after you.
You made the mistake of talking to someoneâsome guy who asked what you were drinking and leaned a little too closeâand it took less than thirty seconds for Rafe to appear at your side.
âEverything good over here?â he asked, slipping an arm around your shoulders like it was second nature.
You leaned into him without thinking. âPeachy.â
The guy nodded and made a quick exit.
Rafe grinned. âWeird. Wonder why he ran off.â
You raised a brow. âYou scared him off on purpose.â
âNooo,â he said, way too innocent.
You poked his ribs. âYouâve been home for thirty minutes and youâre already claiming me like a dog with a bone.â
âI missed my person,â he said, unapologetically.
Your breath caught.
He meant it. Like, really meant it.
âž»
You ended up on a patio loveseat, tucked into Rafeâs side while he ran his fingers up and down your arm like it calmed him down.
Maybe it did. You knew it calmed you.
âSeriously,â he said, voice soft now. âI thought I was gonna lose it without you.â
âYou couldâve texted.â
âI did.â
âNot enough.â
He pulled back to look at you, brows knit together.
âYou mad at me?â he asked, quiet.
âNo,â you said, too fast. âJust⊠pouty.â
He smiled, but it was small. âI really did want to tell you I was coming.â
âThen why didnât you?â
He bit his lip. âBecause I wanted to see your face when I showed up. And it was totally worth it, by the way.â
You tried not to melt. You failed.
âYouâre lucky I love you,â you mumbled.
His whole face lit up. âI am lucky. I know that.â
You rolled your eyes but stayed right where you were, tucked under his arm like you belonged there.
âž»
As the party wound down, Rafe stuck to you like glue.
Even when people tried to pull him back inâmore catch-ups, more drinks, more flirtatious smilesâhe never left your side for more than a minute. If he wasnât touching you, he was looking at you. If he wasnât talking to you, he was listening for you.
You eventually grabbed a blanket from inside and dragged him down to the dock.
The water was calm. The stars were out. It felt quiet for the first time all night.
You sat down and sighed. âI forgot how much more fun everything is with you.â
He flopped down beside you. âIâm literally the party.â
You laughed. âShut up.â
âIâm serious. What did you even do while I was gone?â
âPined,â you said dramatically. âStared out the window like a sailorâs wife.â
He laughed so hard he nearly tipped backward.
âI knew it,â he said. âI knew you missed me.â
You bumped his knee. âYou missed me more.â
He looked at you, smile fading into something softer.
âI did,â he said. âLike⊠so much it was actually stupid.â
You didnât look at him when you whispered, âIt feels weird when youâre not here.â
âIâm here now,â he said. âAnd Iâm not going anywhere.â
You finally looked at him.
He was already looking at you.
And suddenly, it didnât matter that he hadnât told you he was coming back. Or that he let girls fawn over him. Or that he couldâve just called.
Because he was here. And he was yours. Even if no one had said it out loud yet.
a/n: heâs finally back after a month and of course he makes a beeline straight for you đ„ș this is peak clingy bsf!rafe energyâsoft touches, puppy dog eyes, canât be away from you for more than five seconds. i loved this request smâsoft clingy rafe is literally my weakness!!
âż his phone is always on 2%, but your contact is pinned, favorited, and set with a custom alert that overrides do not disturb
âż when you get too drunk at parties, he doesnât roll his eyes or ditch youâhe holds your hair back, makes you drink water, and lets you wear his flannel like a cape while you eat Taco Bell in the passenger seat with your eyes half closed.
âż he calls you dude and baby in the same breath. âdude. baby. you cannot wear that in front of me.â
âż he once tackled you into a pool and then held you after to âmake sure you didnât hit your headâ (you didnât)
âż whenever you paint your nails, he immediately holds his hand out and lets you paint his pinky to match
âż his bedroom is your safe place. even when heâs not home. sometimes you just show up, let yourself in, and crawl into his bed like itâs yoursâand when he gets back, he doesnât ask questions. he just climbs in behind you and pulls the covers over both of you.
a/n: yay!! this is one of three headcanon sets i put together for my 1k celebration đ„č thank you for being here and letting me scream about my delusions with you đ«¶đ»
synopsis: y/n is sarahâs roommate and the embodiment of sunshine. rafe, on the other hand, is her complete opposite. when the boys place a bet that he can't win her over, rafe takes the challenge without hesitation. after all, he never backs down from a dare. the closer rafe gets to y/n, he finds himself drawn to her warmth in a way he never expected, and for the first time, he wants to be more than just the guy with a bad reputation.
but secrets donât stay hidden for long, and when y/n finds out the truth, rafe is left to face the consequences. now, he has to prove that somewhere along the way, the bet stopped mattering, because losing her was never part of the plan.
masterlist
cw: language, alcohol
the party was in full swing, the house covered head to toe in decorations and people all out in costumes.
you and the girls walked in arms linked, but your eyes scanned the room casually. as if you weren't immediately looking for rafe.
you spotted topper first, wearing a half arsed firefighter costume and a beer in hand. kelce was nearby, laughing with some zeta girls, dressed in a vampire outfit.
and then, by the kitchen, rafe.
wearing a ghostface costume, you almost couldn't contain yourself. he looked good. too good.
your stomach twisted.
he hadnât seen you yet. maybe it was better that way.
you turned back toward your friends, trying to melt into the crowd, but then-
"y/n?"
his voice, behind you.
you froze, then turned slowly.
and there he was, standing a few feet away from the dance floor, tongue wetting his lips as his eyes swept over you.
"holy shit," rafe muttered. "you lookâŠ"
you raised an eyebrow, "careful. your wife might get jealous."
he didnât laugh. not really. just took a slow step closer.
"sheâs not my-" he cut himself off, shaking his head. "you look amazing."
"and you're ghostface. how original." you teased him.
"what, you don't like it?" he clutched his chest in fake offence, but you only rolled your eyes.
a relaxed silence fell between you two, in which you noticed the rest of the girls had left you alone with rafe. bitches you thought to yourself.
"can i get you a drink?" he asked sincerely.
"depends what you're going to get me."
"whatever you want sunshine."
"a rum and coke please mr ghostface." you replied, a small blush rising on your cheeks.
"coming right up.' he gave your shoulder a small squeeze as if to say 'stay right here' and disappeared further into the kitchen to make your drink.
as you pulled out a bar stall, a topless policeman came up behind you.
"looking good y/n."
you turned to face him, "jj?" you blinked, doing a double take.
he grinned, running a hand through his messy blond hair, fake badge glittering under the led lights. "what do you think? hot cop or not enough commitment?"
you laughed despite yourself, shaking your head. "youâre missing literally every part of the uniform except the handcuffs."
he smirked. "they're in my back pocket. you know, just in case."
"why am i not surprised." you laughed with him.
"you waiting on someone?" he asked, leaning on the counter beside you.
before you could answer, rafe came back into the room holding your drink and one for himself.
"ah, i see." jj spoke, slowly standing to leave you two it.
"can i help you jj?" rafe spoke with a possessive tone.
"nah bro i was just leaving. talk to ya soon y/n." jj gave you an awkward side hug before walking out.
you raised an eyebrow at rafe as he handed you the rum and coke.
"jealous?"
"no." rafe muttered, jaw clenched.
you sipped slowly as you studied him. "you sure? because that felt pretty territorial."
"just didnât like the way he was looking at you," he said, stepping a little closer.
"weâre just friends," you said softly, reaching out to grab his hand before quickly pulling away. rafe noticed and swiftly pulled your hand back, tracing small circles on your wrist.
"i really like your outfit," he whispered, nudging your cat ears.
"i like yours too," you mumbled, his intense stare making you feel nervous. "except i'd like it better if you kept the mask on."
"wow. you really hate looking at my face that much?" rafe laughed, eyes never leaving yours.
you tilted your head, giving him a sweet, slow smile. "itâs not that," you teased. "itâs just⊠youâre less distracting when your face is covered." a surge of confidence taking over.
rafe raised an eyebrow, lips twitching. "you find me distracting?"
you took another sip of your drink, ignoring the flutter in your chest.
"youâre in a stupid outfit and still manage to be annoying. thatâs a talent."
he leaned closer, close enough now that you had to tilt your head to look at him. "you calling me annoying, sunshine, or are you trying to admit you like looking at me?"
you rolled your eyes. "donât flatter yourself." but your voice was lighter than you wanted it to be.
the music shifted, pulsing louder from the other room, the familiar beat of 'come as you are' started playing. âi love this song!â you turned to rafe, finishing the drink in your hand and pulling him up.
he didnât stop you, just fell into step beside you as you pushed through the crowd back toward the living room where everyone was dancing. the soft lights glowed across his face as he followed, his jaw tight, eyes unreadable.
"you gonna dance?" you asked, tossing a look over your shoulder.
âonly if itâs with you.â he pulled you in.
you laughed, letting your hands rest on his shoulders as his slid to your waist. hips starting to move a little with the rhythm. the warmth from the alcohol was finally catching up to you, softening the edge of your nerves.
your heart was racing. the way his fingers gripped you tighter, the way his gaze kept dropping to your lips like he was fighting something. he pulled you in closer, skin touching and bodies pressing.
you tried to keep your eyes anywhere but his mouth, but it was impossible. especially when he leaned in, voice just above the music. "you always dance like this? or just with me?"
you tilted your head, smirking. "if i say just with you, is your ego gonna inflate?"
"already has," he murmured, turning you around so you were pulled flushed against his chest. you could feel the heat radiating off him, his hands gripping your body like he couldnât help it.
his fingers slid under the hem of your top, just barely. warm and confident and like he belonged there.
you shouldâve pulled away. made a joke. changed the subject.
but you didnât.
"i can feel you staring," you whispered, turning your neck to look at him.
"i know." his voice was low, rougher now.
you turned fully to look up at him. neither of you looked away. your faces were inches apart, breath mixing in the tiny space between. his hand was still on your waist. yours curled in the fabric of his shirt.
"fuck this," he muttered suddenly.
you blinked. "what?"
"come with me." he pulled back slightly, already lacing his fingers with yours. "just for a minute."
you hesitated, but allowed him to drag you through the heavy crowd of people.
he led you out the back door into the cool night air, no one else around but you two.
the noise dulled the second the door shut behind you. it was quieter out here, besides the heavy breathing of the two of you.
rafe stopped by one of the trees, letting your hands drop, reluctantly, you noticed, and looked at you for a second like he wasnât sure where to start.
"needed needed some fresh air?" you asked, worry rising.
he laughed under his breath, shaking his head. "no. needed to stop pretending like i wasnât gonna kiss you."
your breath caught.
"so dramatic," you whispered, but your heart was thudding so loud you were sure he could hear it.
"maybe." he stepped in again, slower this time. deliberate.
his hands found your waist like heâd been there before, like he knew every curve of it.
his voice was barely a whisper now. his eyes locked on yours. "you want me to back off?"
you didnât say anything. you just leaned in.
it started of gentle, testing the waters. but as soon as a small gasp left your lips and your hand curled around the back of his neck, that was it.
his lips pressed harder against yours, all hesitation gone. he tasted like alcohol and something darker. he tasted like him.
your back hit the tree behind you before you even registered that he'd stepped forward again, chest flush against yours, hand slipping to your jaw.
you werenât sure who made the sound, him or you, but your lips parted again, deeper this time, more desperate. like neither of you wanted to come up for air. like this had been building for too long and it was finally breaking.
his thumb brushed your cheek, and his other hand gripped your hip. "fuck," he muttered against your mouth, pulling back just enough to look at you. "been wanting to do that since the second i saw you tonight."
you blinked up at him, breathless, lips still tingling. "just tonight?"
his grin was lazy. dangerous. "donât push it, sunshine. you know the answer already." he kept his forehead pressed to yours. "i've been losing my mind over you," he murmured.
you looked up at him, lips swollen, eyes searching. "so have i."
and rafe smiled, really smiled, before pulling you in again. slower this time, savouring your taste, hands sliding over your body.
the party felt a million miles away. it was just the two of you, hearts racing, lips colliding, unsaid sentences lost in the small space between your lips.
a/n: holllyyyy shit i am back!!! and with a bang if i do say so myself...
anyway notice the queer reference in here hehehe
hope you enjoyed reading this as much as i did writing it!!! thank u for always waiting for me and being so supportive. love u guys
single mom!readers first night alone with the baby and she frantically calls rafe bc the babyâs medicine keeps making the baby spit up and not eat :(
(combined this with a few other reqs of baby only being calm in rafeâs arms and another one from @darlingshecried about getting reassurance from rafe)
for at least two hours now you had been trying to put aurora to sleep, bouncing her in your arms and doing the stimulating taps and rubs the midwives mentioned as well.
none of it was working.
sheâd been diagnosed with sleep apnea, her breathing getting caught in her sleep due to development issues. having been bombarded with information on how to care for her, it all got muddled in your brain and now she wasnât sleeping. if she did sleep, it wasnât safe, sheâd be snoring or sheâd wake up by the sudden lack of breath.
now, she was crying. bawling her little eyes out from restlessness because nothing was working. you tried to give her milk, but she spit it all up, a side effect of the medication they gave her to prevent her apnoeic episodes.
you had only taken her from the hospital six hours ago. in that time, you managed to not feed her, not get her to sleep, and the pressure to not fail as a mother was currently causing you to crumble.
suppressing your tears, you carefully picked your daughter up, into the car and drove to the hospital.
you were desperate.
at two am, the maternity ward was luckily quiet, nurses attending to their own work and women sitting in rooms with full bellies. that had been you a week ago, blissfully unaware of the oncoming problems and now you were struggling in the light of them.
âhi, iâm so sorry to bother you, but my daughter has sleep apnea, and she wonât go to sleep- her medicationâs making her restless, and she wonât even eat- or drink- babies drink donât they?â you stumble with a trembling voice and a tired mind.
the receptionist, at least, was nice as she called over a midwife, telling her the problem so you didnât have to worriedly repeat it.
between midwives entering the small room they put you in, and leaving, none of them had been able to put her to sleep. this would have been reassuring, that maybe you werenât so bad as a mother, but your slowly red eyes and increasingly aching head couldnât focus on that.
you just wanted her to sleep.
chaos had eventually ensued in the room, midwives rushing in and out, unsure over whether she needed more or less medicine, auroraâs wails and your stressed tears.
then rafe walked in, ushering the midwives away and the picture of calm in the midst of a storm when he approached you.
ârafe! oh my god, she wonât sleep! i donât know what to do, and even the midwives donât know what to do!â you ramble, just relieved that heâs at least here.
âi know,â he murmurs, soft as he cradles aurora in his arms, trying to shush her wailings and put her in the cot.
âand her medicineâs making her spit up, she wonât drink anything, and none of the techniques work, she just keepsââ your rant is cut off by the sudden silence in the room, only rafeâs gentle âi knowâs between your words.
sheâs stopped crying. no snoring and sheâs sleeping.
sheâs actually sleeping.
âhow did you do that?â you whisper, stunned, tears drying on your cheeks as you watch him rub her arms up and down while sheâs sleeping in the cot.
âwhoever you had that day was ridiculous, they gave her too much medicine, itâs making her restless, it is why sheâs not drinking, and they didnât even tell you how to put her to sleep properly. come here,â he nods, wrapping his fingers around your wrist and pulling you towards him and the cot.
âsee? if you lay her on her side, and then do the taps, rubs whatever, itâll be easier. the position helps to clear her airways, yeah?â he tells you, voice feather-light as he tilts his head down to you.
stuck staring at her sleeping form, how peaceful she looks after crying her little heart out, you manage a nod, âright.â
he dips his head lower to catch sight of the remaining tears, trickling down your cheek, stopping them with his thumb before they can fall all the way down. âhey, itâs fine, sheâs fine, sheâs healthy and this is more common than you think. but you did the right thing coming in, or else you could have still been stuck tryinâ to get her to sleep. i wouldnât have expected you to do it with the information they gave you,â he reassures you, hand dropped to your arm while you swallow, nodding again.
âdâyou want me to help you to the car?â he offers, carefully swapping her out of her cot and into the carrier basket. you accept his offer, letting him walk you out of the building, holding aurora by the handle of the carrier in one arm. he helps you all the way to the car, situating her in the passenger seat and hovering by the open door for a moment.
âyou gonna be okay?â he asks, while you get into the drivers seat, closing the door.
âyeah, iâll be fine,â a grateful spreads across your face, and rafe nods, drumming his fingers against the outer edge of the door.
âwell you can come in if you need any help, alright? donât hesitate.â he tells you, before you exchange goodbyes and he shuts the door, quietly so as not to wake aurora up. out the window, you watch him walk back inside, sparing a glance over his shoulder at you.
the car journey home is silent, as is the apartment when you get inside. you donât bother with your shoes or hair, or clothes, simply curling into the chair beside auroraâs cot once you put her in, and twirling her thick hair around your finger while she sleeps, until you eventually drift off too.
summary: You and Rafe were the couple that no one saw coming. The kook king and the pogue princess falling in love was a shock to the whole island. The pogues questioned your relationship, the kooks despised it, and Ward took extreme measures to tear you two apart every chance he got. It was only a matter of time before the pressure caused the relationship to break. The constant arguing, the yelling, it all became too much. Rafe turned to drugs and you isolated yourself from everyone until there was too much damage to repair. But life has a funny way of bringing two souls back together. In this instance, in the form of a three year old little boy.
Notes: so at the point they havenât told anyone besides her mom obviously! but itâs coming! very soon! these next couple of chapters will be flashbacks đ«¶đ»
