wondering about how rafe became your baby daddy, when you never even wanted to have kids right now, let alone with someone who was supposed to be nothing more than your best friend.
you kept staring at yourself in the mirror, turning side to side to make sure you liked the way this maroon dress hugged your body. “no, we have to go” rafe says as he watches you almost convince yourself it’s not the right dress. “but i feel like it’s-” he cuts you off. “y/n nah, you look great, let’s go.” he says in passing, like he’s trying to encourage you enough to go, but not really even paying attention.
your friendship with rafe had always kinda been like that. easy, in the way that you felt like it could be too easy. you’d been best friends for years at this point. you knew him better than most, saw past the stories, the girls, the reputation he had. and because of that, you never once looked at him like that. never questioned the way his eyes lingered a second too long, or the way his voice softened when it was just the two of you. to you, that was just rafe keeping up his flirt and unserious persona. it was a friendship were you felt like you didn’t need any boundaries, and maybe that was the start of all of your problems to come.
but everyone else saw it differently. especially topper and kelce, they never let him forget it, always throwing comments his way when you weren’t looking. little smirks, quiet jokes about how obvious it was, how he’d been stuck on you longer than he’d ever admit. rafe always brushed it off, played it cool, acted like it wasn’t real. but they knew, the way his attention always found you, the way he always cared more than necessary, oh they knew.
so when you showed up to sarah and john b’s wedding together, no one thought twice about it. you weren’t exactly his ‘date’ but you might as well have been. you arrived together, stood together, laughed together. it was normal, the way it had always been. just dressed up, a little more polished than usual, but still the same you and rafe everyone knew, always side by side without reason.
the night passed on, music loud with everyone dancing and laughing, drinks being chugged as conversations flowed, and sarah and john b looked like such a perfect couple. in the way that anyway with eyes could tell. you stuck close to rafe without realizing it, your arm brushing his, your laughter leaning into him, your conversations always circling back to each other. every time you looked over, he was already looking at you. every time someone pulled you away, he found his way back. like habit.
and somewhere along the way, the drinks caught up to both of you. everything felt amplified, your thoughts, your reactions, the space between you. what once felt normal started to feel different, so different.
you ended up stepping away from the reception for a moment, needing air, the noise too much, your head too light. and of course, he followed you. “you good?” rafe asks. you nod, leaning lightly against the railing, a small laugh slipping out. “yeah. just needed a second.”
he stood beside you, close enough that you can feel the heat off him. neither of you say anything at first, the air filling with a sort of feeling you weren’t use to feeling.
then outta nowhere, “you ever think about us?” he asks. your brows knit instantly, a soft laugh leaving you, thinking he must be so ridiculously drunk. “rafe, be serious.”
but he doesn’t laugh, and that’s what makes your head almost snap, to look at him properly. because there’s something there you’ve never let yourself notice before. something that’s been sitting between the lines for a long time. “i am,” he says quietly,“you’re drunk.” you quickly try to blow him off.
“yeah well, so are you,” he replies. and there it is again, that heavy tension, only getting thicker. and it doesn’t help that it feels like he just got closer, or that his gaze constantly drops to your lips, and lazily glances back up, or maybe that you’re alone away from everyone else.
“this is a bad idea,” you say, turning to face him, knowing what you both are burning to do in this moment. he nods. “fuckin’ terrible idea.” he responds only leaning closer, and neither of you move away.
his agreement barely settles between you before it clicks. your eyes flicker to his lips, just for a second, and that’s all it takes. his hand comes up first, brushing against your jaw like he’s giving you time to pull away, like he’s waiting for you to stop it, because only god know’s how bad he’s been waiting for this to happen.
“tell me to stop, tell me i shouldn’t” he whispers, almost strained, his forehead nearly brushing yours now. but you don’t, and you should, you know damn well you should. but the alcohol in your system, with the way he’s looking at you, the way everything suddenly feels so euphorically different, drowns out every bit of logic you have left.
his lips meet yours, slow at first, but then something changes in him, hungry and impatient, it’s like something he’s been holding back for way too long finally snapping loose. your breath catches instantly, your hand gripping at the front of his shirt without even thinking, pulling him closer like you need him there, like there’s no space left between you that feels right anymore.
and he moves with that. one hand sliding from your jaw to the back of your neck, the other settling firm at your waist, keeping you still against him as the kiss deepens, like he’s trying to memorize you all at once.
it’s overwhelming, because the way he’s kissing you isn’t casual, or careless, it’s so intentional for him. not just a drunk mistake, it never was gonna be. you feel that, in the way he tilts his head, in the way his grip tightens just slightly when you respond, in the quiet breath he lets out against your lips when you lean into him instead of away. and that’s the worst part, you’re not pulling back at all, but instead matching him, and fuck is this everything he needs.
your fingers slide up into his hair, holding him there, your body pressing closer without even realizing it, like something in you has been waiting for this too, you just never let yourself see it.
the world around you fades out completely, the music and voices, none of it exists anymore. it’s just you, rafe, and this moment, and how completely weird it should feel, kissing your best friend, but it feel so right at the same time.
you pull away so suddenly it almost knocks the air out of both of you. your chest is rising and falling too fast, your head spinning, not just from the alcohol anymore, but from this. from what just happened. from what you just let happen.
“come on,” you say breathlessly, not even giving him time to respond before your hand grabs his. he doesn’t even question it, just follows. you’re already moving, slipping back inside, weaving through people like nothing’s wrong, like you’re not seconds away from possibly running your friendship.
your grip on him is tight, pulling him along behind you as you head toward the stairs. you don’t look back once, like your body just took over. and you don’t notice the way kelce’s eyes catch the whole thing from across the room, how his brows lift slightly, a knowing look settling on his face almost immediately.
by the time you reach the bridesmaids’ room upstairs, your heart is pounding. you push the door open quickly, pulling him inside with you before shutting it just as fast, the click of the lock loud in the quiet room.
for a second you both just stand there, like reality is finally catching up to you, but it doesn’t. because the second he looks at you again, with those needy eyes, whatever restraint you had left, whatever restraint was barely holding on, snaps completely. “you sure about this?” he asks, but there’s barely any space between the words and him stepping closer.
you don’t even answer, already pulling him back in, taking a few steps back, so you both fall onto the bed, and any last bit of objection leaves as the kiss hits harder, as faster. your hands find him immediately, gripping at his shirt, pulling him closer like you can’t get enough, like space between you suddenly feels unbearable.
his hands are on you just as quick, deepening the kiss. it’s so messy and heated, like you’re horny teenagers and not thinking adults.
you began unbuttoning his shirt, while he unzipped your dress. his eyes darkened seeing your exposed body. you tossed the dress onto the chair by the door, reaching to undo the belt on his pants, he helped you, none of you wanted to break the kiss.
it was like a switch had flicked, his grip on you growing tight. his lips moved down, kissing your jaw, your neck, your shoulder, and then biting gently into the crook of your neck right where he knows you like it, and you gasped softly, but quickly tried to recover, trying not to give away how badly he affects you. it was like he was trying to memorize every inch of you, like he was scared to forget. his hand slid down, gripping your thigh, pulling you tighter against him.
he could feel the way your chest pressed against his, how your breathing grew more shallow against his skin, and it drove him crazy, wanting to make you lose that control you were holding onto so desperately. his fingers dug into the skin on your thigh, his lips moving along your collarbone hungrily, like this was the only thing he’s ever wanted. he loved the way your body responded to his touch, the soft gasps that escaped your lips with every move he made.
“oh rafe” you moaned. his lips curved against your skin at the sound of his name on your lips so broken and desperate. his voice was darkly amused, as he dragged his teeth over your pulse point. "yeah? that all you got?" his hand slid higher, squeezing, as if he wanted to pull every damn sound from you. and the worst part? you’d let him.
his smirk was downright sinful as he watched you unravel beneath him. "fuck, that’s pretty," he growled, his breath hot against your ear. his free hand tangled in your hair, tilting your head back just enough to catch the way your lips parted, the way your chest rose and fell too fast.
his mouth crashed back onto yours, swallowing your next moan whole. like nothing else existed, just him, his hands, and the reckless way he was tearing down every last shred of your control. and neither of you cared.
you barely register anything after that, just small flashes of the night, the way everything blurs together too fast to hold onto. the heat of him, the way your hands can’t seem to stay still, the quiet, breathless moans that fill the room between deep thrusts that never seemed to stop. it’s all rushed and reckless, like neither of you wants to think long enough to second guess it. like if you slow down even for a second, reality might catch up and ruin it.
and then it all fades, as if it was a dream you were waking up from. your last clear memory is the way his hand finds your body, after you both reach your high, pulling you into his embrace, like he can’t let go. he places a kiss to your forehead as yours eyes flutter asleep.
—
the weeks after the wedding didn’t feel real.
everything felt off. not just with rafe, though that alone was enough to throw you, but with yourself. your body felt different in ways you couldn’t even explain. you brushed it off at first. blamed it on the alcohol from that night, or the lack of sleep, the way your thoughts kept circling back to something you weren’t even remotely close to unpacking. because thinking about it, about him, and about the way you let yourself fall into that moment made your chest tighten in a way you didn’t like.
you hadn’t really talked to him since. though he texted the morning after, something simple.
rafe: hey rafe: you okay y/n?
and you answered just as casually.
you: yeah, i’m fine. but after that? every time he tried to see you, you found a reason not to. you: sorry, busy you: can’t tonight you: rain check? you kept it light, like nothing had changed, while also avoiding him completely. and of course, he noticed. but for once, he didn’t push the way he usually would. just let the distance grow, even if it was clearly eating at him. you tried not to think about that either.
“okay, but be honest,” katherine says, shifting on the couch beside you, her legs tucked under her as she eyes you over the rim of her glass. “do you regret it?” you hesitate before answering.
the tv plays quietly in the background, a dramatic scene from the pitt, but neither of you are paying attention anymore. your fingers trace mindless patterns along the side of your cup, your water long forgotten.
“i don’t know,” you admit finally, your voice quieter than before. “like, in the moment? no. not at all.” you shake your head slightly, like you’re trying to make sense of it yourself. “but now? everything’s just so weird. i don’t even know how to look at him anymore.”
katherine hums, tilting her head. “well, yeah. i mean, you slept with your best friend.” you groan, dropping your head back against the couch. “please, don’t say it like that.” you plead. “how am i supposed to say it?” she laughs lightly. “you guys have been attached at the hip for years and then just, boom.”
“okay, shut up,” you say to her, but there’s no real bite to it. it seems like she actually did stop talking, but you lift your head to look at her, she looks like she’s thinking hard about it, then without avail, “what if you’re pregnant?” your face drops almost immediately.
“katherine.” you say so sternly, with a blank face. she blinks, then slowly starts to grin. “i’m just saying-”
“no,” you cut her off immediately, a nervous laugh slipping out. “no, that’s so not funny.” but she doesn’t drop it. “okay, but think about it,” she continues, sitting up straighter now, eyes narrowing slightly as she looks at you. “you’ve been saying you feel weird for like, what a week now?” your stomach twists in a way that makes you feel like you can instantly vomit.
“that doesn’t mean anything,” you say quickly. “but doesn’t it?” she presses. “did you miss your-” your lips form a tight line, as you go quiet. fuck, you thought. “…oh my god,” she breathes. “no way,” you shake your head, but it’s weaker sounding this time. “no, i’ve just been stressed-”
“y/n.” your chest tighetns, knowing there is some type of validity to what she’s saying, but you're trying to think of every single possible outcome for it not to be true. but now that she’s said it, you can’t unthink it. all the times you’ve felt the exhaustion. the random waves of nausea you brushed off. the way your body hasn’t felt like yours lately. the dates you didn’t bother keeping track of because you were too busy avoiding everything else. “oh my god,” you whisper, the words barely leaving your lips.
“okay,” katherine says immediately, already standing and grabbing her keys. “we’re going to the store. right now.” the drive feels like it lasts five minutes and five hours at the same time.
you barely remember walking through the aisles, grabbing not one, but three tests, just in case you thought, because there’s no way one is enough for something like this. your hands are shaking by the time you get back to her apartment, your thoughts loud and messy and spiraling in every direction you don’t want them to go.
“hey,” katherine says softly, placing a hand on your arm before you disappear into the bathroom, already knowing the thoughts flying through your head. “we don’t know anything yet. okay?” you nod, appreciative of her comforting you at a time like this, but at this point you think nothing can help.
the next few minutes feel like pure torture. sitting on the edge of the tub, staring at nothing, your heart pounding so hard it feels like it might burst out of your chest. katherine’s pacing just outside the door, giving you space but staying close enough that you’re not alone.
and then the timer on your phone finally goes off, and you feel your mouth dry, and eyes wide. you slowly reach for the first one, and check. then you check the second, and then the third. and tears start to well up, “kat..” you call out, your voice breaking slightly. she’s in the doorway instantly. “what? what happened?” you try to speak but can’t, handing her the sticks.
her face falls instantly, three tests and they all came out positive. the room feels like it’s closing in on you. your hands start to shake, as your vision blurs before you even realize you’re crying. it hits you all at once, the weight of it, the reality of it, the fact that this isn’t just some abstract fear anymore. “i can’t-” your voice cracks, and you shake your head, tears spilling over faster now. “i can’t do this, kat. i’m only twenty five bro, i’m not old enough, this wasn’t-”
she’s beside you immediately, pulling you into her arms as you break down. “i’m not even with him,” you sob out. “we’re not together, we’re not anything, this was a mistake, it was one night-” your chest heaves as the words tumble out, panic setting in deeper with every second. “and it’s rafe,” you whisper, like saying his name makes it more real. “out of everyone, it had to be him-”
it’s not rafe the person that makes you doubt this, its more so the baggage that he brings with him. you know him through and through, know his anger issues, how any small thing ticks him off to oblivion. you know how impulsive, and deranged he could be sometimes, how he’ll drink himself to death, with you having to be the one he drunk calls to pick him up, and it doesn’t stop you from being his friends, because you’ve always be in his corner, but raising a child? that’s a whole different ball park.
katherine holds you tighter, her hand rubbing soothing circles on your back as you cry into her shoulder. “we’ll figure it out,” she says softly against your hair. “okay? you’re not alone in this.”
but all you can think about is rafe, and how everything just changed in a way neither one of you can take back.
-
the knock throws you off completely. you hadn’t really been expecting to see anyone these past two days. you’ve barely moved from the couch, the same blanket wrapped around you, with your phone face down on the table because you can’t even bring yourself to look at it.
another knock, makes you frown slightly, pushing yourself up, your body heavy as you make your way to the door. when you peek through the peephole, your stomach drops. “shit,” you mutter under your breath.
rafe. just the person you couldn’t bring yourself to speak to. you hesitate for a second, your hand hovering over the handle, debating if you should even open it. but he knocks again, a little more urgent this time, and you know he’s not leaving. so you opened the door. “what are you-”
“i’m so fuckin’ sorry.” he cuts you off immediately, the words tumbling out of him fast and messy, like he’s been thinking about it for weeks. “i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have- i didn’t mean to, i mean i did, but not like that, not if it was gonna-” he exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair, pacing once like he doesn’t even know where to stand. “i don’t wanna mess this up with you, alright? i don’t wanna ruin us. we can just-” he gestures vaguely between you, almost desperate, “we can just forget about that night. pretend it didn’t happen.”
your lips form a tight line. “i don’t think-” you try to speak, but rafe continues, “because i’d rather have you like this than not at all, i swear,” he keeps going, not even noticing how quiet you’ve gotten. “we don’t have to make it weird, we don’t have to-”
“we can’t rafe.” you say louder, trying to take him out of this rambling state he’s got himself in, and he finally stops. “what?” he asks, brows pulling together like he didn’t hear you right. you swallow, your throat dry. “we can’t,” you repeat, quieter this time. he lets out a short breath, shaking his head slightly, already dismissing it. “yeah, we can. it’s not that big of a-”
“i’m pregnant.”
that hits him so much he freezes. he just stands there, completely still. his mouth parts slightly, like he’s about to say something, but nothing comes out. then it closes, and opens again.
“what?” you don’t answer right away. you just step back, leaving the door open as you walk back into your apartment. you sink back onto the couch like your body can’t hold you up anymore.
he subconsciously follows you in, shutting the door behind him, still processing. “what?.” he repeats, quieter this time, like maybe the word will make more sense the second time around. “i’m pregnant,” you say again, staring straight ahead. “i um, i took three tests. they were all positive.”
he runs a hand over his face, then the back of his neck, pacing once like his brain is trying to catch up to what you just said. “okay..” he mutters under his breath. “okay, shit, wait, okay.” the shock doesn’t fully leave his face, but you never thought you’d see him react in that way. like a sort of smile?
“you’re pregnant,” he repeats, this time like he’s trying to convince himself. you’re pregnant, with his kid, your kid, y’alls kid. you watch it click in him, and before he can even think to try and hide it, there’s a flicker of excitement in his expression. a breath leaves him, shaky but not in the way you feel. “holy shit..” he says.
and you feel even worse, because this? isn’t how you’re feeling in the slightest. rafe finally looks up at you, and everything in him, the prior excitement, the smile, the realization drops, instantly. because you look nothing like he does. your eyes are puffy, and red from crying. your face drained, like you haven’t slept. you look small on that couch, wrapped up in yourself like you’re trying to disappear from it all. like this is the worst thing that’s ever happened to you.
“hey,” he says, softer now,, like he’s stepping into something fragile. “hey-” you shake your head slightly, tears already building again. “i can’t do this, rafe,” you whisper.
and just like that, whatever excitement started to bloom in him gets replaced, because now he gets it. this isn’t the same for you. rafe moves closer to comfort you, engulfing you in his chest. even when you quiet down, and the room isn’t filled with your crying anymore, his thumb keeps brushing over your knuckles. “i’m gonna fix my shit.” he says after a moment of silence. you blink, caught off guard. “what?”
“my shit,” he repeats, sitting back a little but still holding onto you. “the drinking, the whatever the hell you’ve seen me do that made you think i couldn’t handle this? i’m done with it.” you stare at him, trying to read if this is just rafe talking or if he actually means it, and he notices that. “i’m serious,” he says, sharper this time. “i’m not bringin’ a kid into that. i’m not-” he cuts himself off, exhaling. “i’m not gonna be that guy.”
“that doesn’t happen overnight,” you say quietly, like you don’t even know what to do with that. “i know but, you don’t have to worry about anything,” he continues, leaning forward a little. “money, a place, whatever it is, you don’t have to stress about that. i got you. i’ve always had you.” your brows pull together slightly. “that’s a lot to just say, you know.”
“i know it is,” he nods. “i’m still sayin’ it.” but his next sentence surprises you, like it’s the most obvious solution in the world, “move in with me.” your head tilts back a little. “you’re actually insane.”
“i’m not insane,” he scoffs lightly. “i’m thinkin’ ahead.”
“rafe, that’s- no, that’s a huge step,” you shake your head, overwhelmed again. “we’re not even-”
“i know what we are,” he cuts in, a little firmer. “and i know what we’re not. but we got a kid on the way now, y/n. i’m not gonna have you sittin’ here alone, stressin’ yourself out in this apartment while i’m somewhere else, i wanna be near my kid, so that’s not how this is gonna go.” you swallow, your emotions creeping back up again. “you’re just saying that because you feel like you have to.”
his expression hardens slightly, like he’s irritated you’d even think that, especially about him, knowing him how you do. “no, i’m not.”
“yes, you are,” you push, your voice wavering. “you feel responsible, and now you’re trying to fix everything at once-”
“i am responsible,” he snaps, half angry, but halfly trying to take accountability. “that’s the point. but don’t sit there and act like this is some obligation to me. like i’m just, steppin’ up because i have no other choice.”
you go quiet, because there’s this sense of honesty in his voice that doesn’t sound forced or fake. “then why?” you ask, softer now. “why are you acting like this?” he lets out a bitter laugh, dragging his hand over his face before looking back at you, something frustrated and vulnerable sitting right under the surface. “you really don’t see it, do you?”
your brows knit. “see what?” he lets out a disbelieving sigh. “jesus, you’re killin’ me right now.” he says. “rafe, what are you-”
“i’m in love with you.”
it comes out blunt, in a way he never though he’d admit it, especially not today, and especially not after finding out he was gonna be a father. you freeze completely, as he shakes his head slightly, like he’s almost annoyed it even got to this point. “i’ve been in love with you,” he continues, “for years. and you’re sittin’ here actin’ like this is just some random shit to me, like i don’t care who it is, like i’d be doin’ this for just anyone.” your lips part, but nothing comes out.
“everyone else saw it,” he goes on, running a hand through his hair. “kelce wouldn’t shut the fuck up about it, topper used to give me shit every time you walked into a room-” he lets out a breath, shaking his head. “you’re the only one who didn’t notice.”
“i don’t even know if you’re being serious” you whisper, your heart racing now for a completely different reason. “i’m very fuckin’ serious,” he says, his eyes locked on yours. “this isn’t just about the baby for me. it’s you too. it’s always been you.”
your chest rises and falls slowly as you try to process it. because now that he’s saying it, you can see it. all of it, from the longing gazes, to the way he always got softer with you, how close he used to stay near you whenever you were together. how annoyed he’d get when anyone would try and flirt with you, always saying “he’s a piece of shit, pick a better one” not knowing the ‘better one’ was always him. “i thought you were just,” you trail off, letting out a small, shaky breath. “being you.”
“yeah,” he huffs lightly. “well, that’s the problem. i was being me, but not like that. not with you.” you look down for a second at your hands you didn’t realize were intertwined this whole time, your fingers tightening slightly around his.
“i didn’t let myself think about it,” you admit quietly. he stills. “really?” you shake your head a little, like you’re trying to find the right words. “because if i did, it would’ve changed everything. and i didn’t wanna lose what we had.” he softens, “so you just ignored it?” he asks. you nod faintly. “yeah.”
“there were moments,” you admit, your voice quieter now. “where it didn’t feel like just friendship. where it felt like more.” you swallow, your eyes flicking back up to his. “i just never let myself think twice of it.” rafe stares at you like that just knocked the air out of him.
“you’re serious?” he asks, softer now. you nod slightly. “i didn’t know what to do with it.” a breath leaves him, almost like relief mixed with disbelief. “jesus fuck” he mutters under his breath, a small, almost incredulous smile pulling at his lips. “all this time” you let out a weak, emotional laugh, shaking your head. “yeah.”
rafe’s hand tightens around yours again, his expression grounding back into something more serious. “then let me do this right,” he says, his voice steady now. “let me be there for you. for real. not just halfway, or how we used to but, actually there. i want to be your problem solver”
you look at him, your eyes still a little glassy, “i really don’t wanna screw this up,” he adds, quieter. “i don’t wanna be like my dad. i don’t want our kid growin’ up in some messed up broken home where shit’s always unstable.”
“i don’t want that either, you admit. “so don’t run from me, please,” he says, in pleading honesty. “don’t shut me out like you been doin’.” he finishes. “i was just scared,” you say. “i know,” he nods. “but you don’t gotta be scared of me.” your eyes search his face. “this is a lot, rafe.”
“i know it is,” he says again. “we’ll take it slow if that’s what you need. but you’re not doin’ this alone, alright? i’m right here.” your fingers squeeze his a little tighter. “you’re not leaving if things get hard,” you ask, vulnerable.
“not a fuckin’ chance.”
prequel to babydaddy!rafe