could you write a one shot of like Rafe treating reader really bad during their relationship. And he catches her crying about it and he ask ‘what is wrong’ and she just breaks down and tells him how she feels and how he’s treating her isn’t fair and Rafe doesn’t know what to say and he doesn’t want to lose her and begs her to stay but reader ultimately leaves anyway. But through all of that Rafe try’s really hard to get reader back
thankss love your writing!!
the first time rafe makes you cry, he doesn’t notice.
that’s the worst part. how oblivious he is.
you stand there in the kitchen with burning eyes while he tears through cabinets looking for his keys, frustration rolling off him in waves. “where the fuck did you put them?”
you blink. “i didn’t touch your keys.”
“they don’t just disappear.”
his tone is sharp, impatient — like you’re another problem he has to deal with instead of someone he loves. you swallow hard. “i said i didn’t touch them.”
rafe scoffs under his breath, already moving on, already over it. five minutes later he finds them in his jacket pocket and doesn’t apologize. you tell yourself it’s fine. everyone has bad days, right? except eventually the bad days become most days.
it happens slowly enough that you almost don’t realize how unhappy you are until it’s already swallowed you whole. rafe gets colder, shorter with you. everything irritates him lately — the way you ask if he’s eaten, the way you wait up for him, the way you get quiet when he snaps at you. sometimes he ignores your texts for hours and then acts annoyed when you ask where he’s been.
sometimes he leaves in the middle of arguments. sometimes he starts them for no reason at all and somehow you always end up apologizing.
you miss the version of him that used to pull you into his lap just because he could. the one who kissed your forehead absentmindedly. the one who looked at you like you were something soft in a world that had only ever been hard on him.
now it feels like loving him means walking on broken glass barefoot and you keep doing it anyway.
it’s raining the night he finally notices. you’re curled up on the bathroom floor, knees against your chest, trying so hard to stay quiet. the fight had been stupid.
you barely even remember what started it. something about him canceling on you again. something about you asking why he never wants to spend time with you anymore.
he’d laughed — actually laughed. “you’re so fucking needy sometimes.”
the words keep replaying in your head. needy like wanting to be loved by your boyfriend is too much. your hand presses against your mouth to smother the sound of your crying, shoulders shaking violently.
outside the bathroom, the house is quiet. then footsteps. “baby?”
your eyes squeeze shut. gods, not now.
the doorknob rattles once before he pushes it open. when rafe sees you sitting on the floor, his entire expression changes.
“hey —” confusion flashes across his face immediately. “what happened?”
you let out a breath that sounds broken. he crouches in front of you slowly now, like approaching a wounded animal. “what’s wrong?”
for a second you just stare at him because he genuinely doesn’t know. that hurts almost more than everything else. your laugh comes out shaky and wet. “seriously?”
his brows pull together. “what?”
you wipe furiously at your face. “you don’t know why i’m crying?”
“baby, i —”
“it’s you.”
the words hang there and rafe stills completely. your chest caves in after finally saying it out loud. “it’s you,” you repeat, voice cracking harder this time. “you’re what’s wrong.”
his face shifts instantly. confusion turning into disbelief. then guilt. then something panicked underneath both. “what are you talking about?”
you stare at him like maybe he can’t really be asking that. “you treat me like shit, rafe.” you say flatly, so flatly you havw to push the words through your mouth.
silence. actual silence. he opens his mouth, then closes it again but you keep going before you lose the courage. “everything i do annoys you now. you barely look at me anymore unless you’re criticizing me or snapping at me or acting like i’m bothering you just for existing.”
“that’s not true —”
“yes it is.”
your voice breaks loudly enough that he flinches. tears stream faster now, months worth of hurt finally spilling over. “i feel stupid all the time,” you whisper. “i feel like i have to earn being loved by you.”
“baby —”
“and i keep trying.” your breathing turns uneven. “i keep trying to be good enough for you and easy enough and quiet enough so you won’t get irritated with me but nothing works.”
rafe looks like he’s been hit. “that’s not what i want.”
“then why do you make me feel like this?”
he has no answer. none. because every memory hits him all at once now — every ignored text, every harsh tone, every time he watched your face fall and did nothing about it. his voice comes out quieter. “i didn’t realize it got this bad.”
that makes you cry harder. because of course he didn’t. you mattered enough to hurt but somehow not enough to notice hurting.
“please don’t cry,” he says immediately, moving toward you.
you pull back: the movement is small but it destroys him. rafe freezes.
“don’t,” you whisper.
his face crumples a little around the edges. “baby…”
“i can’t do this anymore.”
the second the words leave your mouth, panic floods his expression so fast it’s almost hard to look at. “no.” you shut your eyes. “don’t say that.”
“rafe—”
“no.” he shakes his head hard, moving closer again. “we can fix this.”
you look exhausted. “i’ve been trying to fix this alone for months.”
“i’ll do better.”
“you said that last time.”
his mouth shuts. because you’re right.
you stand slowly, wiping your face again. your legs feel weak underneath you. rafe stands too immediately. “where are you going?”
“home.”
“this is your home.”
another painful laugh leaves you. “it doesn’t feel like it anymore.”
“don’t do this.” his voice cracks suddenly, real fear bleeding through now. “please.”
you’ve never seen him like this before. not angry. not defensive, just scared. his eyes are red already, breathing uneven as he watches you walk past him into the bedroom.
“baby, come on,” he follows after you desperately. “talk to me.”
you grab your bag with shaking hands. “i am talking to you.”
“then yell at me. scream at me, whatever — just don’t leave.”
your chest hurts so badly you can barely breathe through it because part of you wants to stay. that’s the horrible thing. you still love him, even now. especially now. but love has started hurting more than leaving would.
rafe sees your hand trembling as you zip your bag and reaches for you instinctively. “please.”
you finally look at him. his eyes are glassy now. terrified. like he’s realizing too late that he pushed the one person who stayed too far.
“i love you,” he says brokenly.
tears fill your eyes again. “i know.”
“then stay.”
you shake your head. “love isn’t supposed to feel like this.”
“i’ll change,” he says immediately. desperately. “i swear to god, i’ll change. i’ll do anything.”
you believe he means it but you also know some damage doesn’t disappear just because someone suddenly notices it. “i hope you do,” you whisper. then you walk away.
the first night without you feels like hell and the second feels worse. rafe calls until your number goes to voicemail. he texts paragraphs at 3am.
i’m sorry
please talk to me
i know i fucked up
i love you
please don’t do this
he shows up at your apartment twice before you stop answering the door entirely and for the first time in his life, rafe realizes love means absolutely nothing if you don’t know how to take care of it. weeks pass. then months.
and somehow he still reaches for you in bed half asleep. still turns when he hears laughter that sounds like yours. still checks his phone hoping for your name.
he starts changing slowly after that. not because it’ll get you back. but because losing you finally forced him to look at himself honestly. the anger, the cruelty, the way he loved like possession instead of tenderness.
and maybe that’s the tragedy of it all. he becomes the version of himself you begged for only after you’re gone.